Chapter 20: Evil Unmasked

Hey young blood,

Does it feel like our time is running out?

I'm going to change you like a remix

And then I'll raise you like a phoenix

You're wearing our vintage misery

No, I think it looked better on me.

I'm gonna change you like a remix

And then I'll raise you like a phoenix.

The Phoenix, by Fall Out Boy

"You're not going to try to fight, are you, love?" Liam's voice was silky, and the razor-sharp edge hadn't left his eyes.

There was a sense of peace in me that I hadn't felt in years. My fingers were wrapped around the human girl's throat, and my eyes were trained on my master. He reminded me of a panther-all slinking grace and danger and beauty. "Why would I fight?" I laughed. The question was absurd. I had no reason to fight against Liam. He was the one who had given the ability to control my powers. He had made me strong. Now all I had to do was snap the neck of the whiny human. It was simple, and excitement buzzed through me at the thought of killing her. She was the second to last sacrifice. One more after her, and Liam and I would be unstoppable. Beacon Hills would be the first to witness our power, and then the rest of the world.

I let my claws dig into the soft flesh of the human's throat, drawing blood. She whimpered around the curses she was biting out. She was terrified-I could taste the sweet discord. Inhaling deeply, I looked over to my master. "Can I kill her now?" I asked, and it almost sounded like I was begging. But I didn't beg. Begging was for the weak.

Liam sauntered over to the girl, brushing against me as he passed. His fingers lingered on the human's forehead, then trailed down her cheek, all the way down to where my fingers were squeezing off the girl's air supply. He pried them off, and I felt disappointment rush through me. If I couldn't torture the human or kill her, what was the point of having her here? Liam smirked as I pretended to pout, crossing my arms over my chest. "She's not going anywhere, Seraphina. Patience is a virtue, love." He pulled his hand away from the human girl's skin, and I longed for him to touch me.

The human sent a spray of blood and saliva from her mouth, and I eyed her with distaste. Humans were such disgusting creatures. Liam tsked and wiped his hands on his jeans, blue eyes locking on me. "If you promise to be good, I'll explain everything to you, Seraphina. From the beginning, if you would like." Liam spoke to me as though I was a child, and that upset me, though I didn't show it. My master expected my best behavior, so that was exactly what I would give him.

I sneered. "I'll be a perfect angel. Cross my heart."

Liam put his hands behind his head and stretched, turning his back on me. "Of course you will, love. The story is bloody well over-due, isn't it?" Liam grinned at me over his shoulder. "Take a seat, Seraphina."

I did as he commanded, sinking down to knees on the floor. The human girl watched me quietly, her breathing ragged. Blood dribbled from the cuts on her body, and I watched it with fascination. "You were so very oblivious to what was happening," Liam mused. "You're not the only one who can use Masking charms, you know. It was so easy to make you see what you wanted. To make you see someone who was willing to help a pitiful, broken girl." Liam chuckled.

I stayed frozen on the ground, watching him intently. There was nothing in me that wanted to strike out against him, though his words were scathing. I simply watched Liam as he continued to pace. "I'm much more powerful than you gave me credit for, Seraphina. Much more intelligent than ever imagined. I worked my own magic right under your nose."

Liam leaned against one of the paint-chipped walls, turquoise eyes gleaming in the darkness. "My mother was a Charm-Caster, you see." Liam's lip curled in disgust. "No one knew except for my father. Because their unity would have been cursed from the start. Charm-Casters have a special loathing for werewolves, and vice versa. The druids were the ones that were neutral on the subject, and they were fools for that. People should stay with their own kind." Liam's eyes met mine. "My brothers and I were abominations, the result of a tainted, forbidden relationship. Half Charmers, half werewolves, we could shift forms like our father and energy-wield like our mother. The ultimate breed; the ultimate curse."

Liam pushed off the wall and crept toward me, something dark and lethal in his expression. It thrilled me. "Lane, Lyric, and I-we had no idea what we were. We assumed, like everyone else, that our mother was a human. Lane and Lyric were useless with their magic." Liam looked up at the ceiling with a smirk. "Then again, they were useless with everything. I was the strongest, the most adept with my powers. My mother was wary of me finding out what I was, afraid that I would tell someone." Liam sneered, drawing closer still. "As if I would be that ignorant. I knew what people would do to me they found out what I was."

Liam held out his hand to me, and I took it eagerly, not even flinching when the human let out a high pitched scream of defiance. Liam merely raised his hand, and the sound choked off instantly. There. That was better. Liam toyed with a few dark strands of my hair, lowering his voice as he continued. "My mother, the bitch that she was, felt guilty for not telling the pack of her heritage. She told my brothers and I what we were, and then told us that she had to right the wrongs she had committed." Liam glared. "Well, that was obviously out of the question. If the others in our pack would have found out about us...they would have murdered us on the spot. And I couldn't allow that. I tried to talk to my brothers, telling them we had to get rid of Mother for the greater good."

The Devereaux boy shook his head slowly. "They didn't want to kill her, of course. They claimed that I was crazy." Liam's eyes shined angrily. "I was trying to protect them, but when they told our father of my plan, I had to take action."

I blinked. "Of course," I told Liam, my voice soothing. "They forced you to. If they would have just agreed to kill your mother, it would have been fine." Liam smiled at me, touching my lips with mock tenderness.

"Exactly, love. They never listened to me. So I contacted Deucalion-he was still angry with my father over some petty matter- and I requested that he kill my father. He had no idea what I intended for my mother and brothers." Liam examined the cuticles of his fingers, pulling his fingers away from my face. I sighed discontendedly. "We killed them at the same time. Deucalion promised me protection and a spot in the alpha pack." The beta chuckled. "Save killing one. Of course, Lyric was always quicker than me-he made it to the field behind our house before I sliced his throat to ribbons." I nodded, as if murdering your sibling was an every day topic. I felt nothing. No sympathy, no anger-nothing that my master didn't want me to feel. "But of course, Seraphina, forgive me-you can see memories like they're your own. Why don't I just show you?"

The twisted smile on Liam's lips should have scared me. But the nothingness in my chest expanded, and I found myself holding my hand out to Liam eagerly. The human girl who sat a few feet away was still gagging on the Silencing charm Liam had placed on her, and tears streamed down her face. She looked like she was on the verge of unconciousness. Something about that should have bothered me, but...it didn't. Nothing. I felt nothing for the human. I gave my head a slight shake, confusion rising in me. Why would I be worried for that filth, anyway?

Liam grasped my hand tightly in his own, and I gasped in pain and pleasure as images started pouring into my mind. Three little blonde boys, only a few years apart each, laughing and playing in a flowery meadow somewhere in England. The middle boy, Liam, I could see, looked no older than four. Years passed, and I got a glimpse of Liam starting to play by himself, digging up ant hills, torturing animals...Then he moved on to his brothers. Liam placed little cuts on them when he could, smiling that brilliant white smile of his, and then pinched them where no one would look for bruises. By the time he was ten, Liam's brothers were terrified of him. They hated him. I saw how Lyric, the youngest, would cringe when the middle brother was around, and how Lane would glare. There was always fear in their eyes, though, and Liam fed off of that fear.

No one ever believed that Liam was capable of such awful things. The Devereaux boys' mother chatised her sons for lying, and their father sternly told them that Liam just enjoyed playing rough. Liam had smirked behind his hand, blue eyes glittering maliciously in the fading sunlight. It wasn't long after that incident that Liam found out that he could manipulate energy. He kept it to himself at first, creating objects out of thin air and then touching animals to pull energy from them into himself. He had no idea what he was or why he had the abilities that he did, but he didn't really care. Soon, he began to siphon energy from his youngest brother, and Lyric was left sickly. Liam's father was displeased. He was a tall, thin man with a mop of fair hair and dark eyes, and none of his sons resembled him expect for the sharp cheekbones that they possessed. The Devereaux boys took after their mother-she looked like an angel with long golden curls, bright blue eyes, and a willowy form that was stronger than it looked.

Liam wasn't anything like his family, though. He was far better. He was more powerful than even his father, and he knew his father knew that for a fact. Liam saw the way his father glanced at him nervously out of the corner of his eye, and he took pride in that. His mother was the only one that didn't fear him. She was sweet and kind to a fault, and she didn't want to believe that she had given birth to a monster. Liam wasn't afraid to call himself a monster. Monsters were feared, monsters were respected. Monsters had power. And Liam longed for power.

Years flashed by again, and Liam looked like he was around fifteen now. He was arguing with Lane and Lyric, telling them they should use their powers to take down their mother. The manic look in his eyes terrified the other Devereaux boys. "Dad will never allow you to hurt Mum, Liam," Lane growled out, his eyes flashing golden. Lyric watched his older brothers get chest to chest, trying to control his breathing. He was the one that was most prone to have outbursts of energy if his emotions got too high.

"How could you even think about killing Mum, Lee?" the youngest Devereaux asked, his voice warbling. "She just wants to tell the pack what we are."

"She's going to get us killed!" Liam seethed, shoving his younger brother to the ground. Lane let out a snarl and tried to shift, but with one touch, Liam drained him of the energy it required. He sneered as Lane fell to his knees on the ground. Lane's eyes kept flickering between blue and gold, and Liam landed a kick in Lane's stomach. "I was trying to protect both of you, you ungrateful bastards," Liam snarled. "Don't get in my way, or I'll see to it that Mum isn't the only one that dies."

Lyric trembled on the ground, crawling over to help Lane sit up. "You're nothing but a selfish prick!" Lane yelled weakly, struggling to stand. "The pack will rip you to shreds, Liam! Because you never really cared about anything but yourself. You're mad!" Lane screamed, face going red. "You're mad if you think we'll let you hurt Mum!"

Liam gave a disgusted snort and walked around his brothers, shaking his head. "As if you could stop me. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

The scene faded and then rebuilt itself. Now it was a different day in late autumn. I could hear the scuffle going on inside the tiny Devereaux cottage, the screaming and crying. I knew what today was. I watched as Deucalion and his own brother fought, and Mrs. Devereaux screamed for them to stop, begged them. While she was distracted, Liam crept out of his shadows, looking like an avenging angel with anger in his eyes and a cold look of fury on his face. He raised a hand against his mother, but then Lane wrecked into his back. The two fell to the floor, rolling and snarling, and then Liam started to choke his older brother. Lane gagged, his eyes rolling back into his head. Liam extended his claws and stabbed them straight into Lane's chest. The older Devereaux boy gurgled on his own blood, and Liam's mother screamed as Deucalion snapped her husband's neck and Liam began to drink in Lane's energy.

Mrs. Dervereaux looked horrified as her middle son advanced toward her, his eyes going from gold to a cold electric blue. They matched his normal eye color startlingly well. She sobbed as she backed away from her son on her hands, but Liam was quicker than she was. His mother was dead before he hit the floor. Deucalion tilted his head to the side, blindly looking to where Liam stood over the corspes of his family. "Liam, what are you doing?"

Liam wiped his bloody fingers on his jeans absently. "Tying up loose ends, of course. You didn't really think that I could join the alpha pack without killing the rest of them, did you?" A few different emotions warred on Deucalion's face, but he finally gave a slow nod, a smile settling on his lips.

"Very wise of you. I'll be out front while you finish the job."

Liam turned to see Lyric trying to slip out the back door, frantically sprinting away from the cottage. Liam shook his head. His younger brother was always the most dense of the group. He thought he could outrun Liam...Liam chuckled and moved to follow Lyric. Lyric was wounded, of course. Liam had snapped his brother's leg before he even went after their mother. Now Lyric ran/hobbled as fast as he could, but Liam was faster. He was better in almost every way, actually.

He grabbed Lyric by his shirt front and pushed him to the ground with a cold look on his face. Lyric yelped as he landed on his bad leg. The werewolf blood in him should have mended the leg, but his Charm-Caster side was going haywire, sending his energy spilling out of him in fear. Liam triumphantly grinned. Lyric had always been the weakest one. This would be simple. Lyric tried to to crawl away, but Liam pressed his boot into the younger boy's back. Liam flipped Lyric over and tsked. "Sorry, little brother. It's nothing personal."

"You've been cursed, Liam."

The words were said through trembling lips, and Liam narrowed his eyes at the other boy. Lyric gasped in another shaky breath. "You're not-the only one who could do-research," he wheezed. "I know that you'll look for that girl with Deucalion. The scepter. I know y-you will." Lyric swallowed. "She's the reincarnation of the scepter. She'll be the-most powerful. And you-you're the reincarnation of the-the Wolf Prince." Liam sneered down at Lyric. But Lyric met his eyes with startling intensity. "It was-inevitable that you-became this. Y-you didn't have a choice. So I'll-I'll forgive you, Liam."

"Quiet!" Liam hissed. He extended his claws, and leaned down over the youngest Devereaux boy. "I will be the most powerful creature in the supernatural world. The only curse that I have is being plagued with such a weak pack," Liam spat.

He raised his claws, and Lyric squeezed his eyes shut more tightly. Liam sliced his younger brother's throat, and Lyric's eyes shot open at the last second. He choked on his own blood. Liam stood up as the blood puddled into the bright green grass of the meadow, seeping into the dirt. Liam watched as the light left Lyric's eyes and the boy's energy pooled into Liam's veins. He felt the exhilerating rush of new energy in him. He knew why the humans called the stuff magic-there was something intriguing and foreign about it as it filled him to the brim. Liam stood up and left Lyric's corpse in the field, going to go meet Deucalion at the front of the cottage.

Even the Demon Wolf himself didn't know what Liam was. He had no idea that Liam was only using him to find the scepter, and then he would betray his uncle. He never had any true alliance to the man-Deucalion was hated by many, and for good reason. Deucalion claimed he only killed when it suited him, but Liam knew that somewhere in the older werewolf was a desire to spill blood. At least Liam was honest about being a monster. Deucalion was simply a coward. But soon, Liam wouldn't have to worry about that...

I pulled myself out of Liam's past with a gasp, slowly letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of the basement again. Liam released my hand, crossing his arms over his well-defined chest.

Something bubbled up in me, but it barely brushed the nothingness in my chest. I swatted it away like an annoying fly and trained all my attention on my master. "Now you understand, Seraphina." Liam paced around me in a circle. "I'm nearly as strong as you now. And all it took were some false feelings projected at you." I stared at him uncomprehendingly. Liam chuckled. "Your other self would understand. But she's not here right now. And if we're lucky, she'll be gone for good." Liam smiled that beautiful, enrapturing smile at me. "You see, what you're fuctioning as now-in psychology, they call it the Id. The primal part of your mind, working on only the most basic of instincts. Yours is dark than most because of your wolf gene, the blood of the scepter in your veins, and of course, my own influence."

I tried to think. I had been someone else? Someone other than this? My memories were hazy at best, and when I tried to grasp for them, I slammed into something almost solid. I shook my head slowly. It didn't matter now. I had a master now, and he was offering me undeniable power. What had happened before didn't matter. I was only interested in killing anyone who stood in the way of me and my abilities.

But Liam wasn't done gloating. He clasped his hands behind his back, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Do you remember what I asked you during our first time together?"

A memory floated out of nowhere, taunting me. 'Sacrifice is a lovely thing. It's amazing what people will do for the ones that they love.' 'Do you speak Latin, little werewolf?'

Liam laughed when he saw my puzzled expression. "You tried so hard to piece together all the clues, Seraphina, but you were far too late. Drawing you in, making you trust me..." Liam inhaled deeply. His golden hair caught the light, casting a shadow on his face. "It was lovely how oblivious you were. I started to worm my way into your mind when you to the Glen Capri-that steamy snogging session between you and your little human boy was beacause of me. All of those wonderful, vivid hallucinations that everyone was having?" Liam grinned. "All me." He wandered back over to the human girl tied to the chair. She was still struggling to free herself, still bleeding, and still as pathetic as ever. I averted my eyes, focusing solely on my master.

"My favorite part is that you never suspected anything was wrong with your necklace after Morrell gave it back to you. Of course, I've had her under my thumb since she first became the alpha pack's guardian." Liam looked up at the dim bulb above his head. "She doesn't remember giving me the necklace so I could hex it. Doesn't remember at all. But before that? It was easy to kill that Danae girl before I came inside the school that night. I actually let her suffer a bit-your friend Lydia still found her alive. And what was the boy's name-Kyle, was it?-he was much easier." Liam continued to pace. "I didn't evven have to touch him to make his heart stop. So much energy flowing through him..." Liam licked his lips. "Well, with Danae, it was harder. She wanted to make it messy." The Devereaux boy sighed. "Unfortunate, really. She wasn't bad to look at. And you, love, you killed Boyd. Did the dirty work for me, just like I instructed my packmates to make you." His aquamarine eyes gleamed. "Their minds were like putty in my hands. Too simple."

Liam met my eyes, and I knew that I should have felt something then, anything at all, at the mention of the beta that had been killed. But I didn't. I couldn't. I fidgeted uncomfortably. My master...what was he talking about? I didn't remember...I couldn't...I clutched my head in my hands, gritting my teeth. "Now, now, love," he purred. "Don't try too hard. You'll hurt yourself."

"And your friend Lydia? Her energy is wonderful. I planned to suck the banshee dry from my place in the auditorium with you, love. I had another weak-willed person to do the dirty work of knocking Lydia unconcious, of course. Your filthy Charm-Caster sister, Viviane. When I 'saved' her from the other alphas, I placed a mark on her that would make her come at my beck and call. No one every expected that she would be the culprit there. But she was just so lovely...I couldn't miss an opportunity to make her responsible for something." Liam sighed. "Yet she doesn't remember what she did. A shame, really. Guilty energy is intoxicating."

I sucked in a deep breath and stumbled a bit. Liam looked back to the tied-up human girl with distaste curling his lip. "Of course, this one decided she wanted to put up a fight. Her knowledge of werewolves made her a little harder to take, but she was weak enough that a simple spell caused her to go unconcious." Liam tutted cockily, leaning down in the girl's...Gia's...face. Her name sent a spike into my heart. She was a human. She didn't mean anything. I didn't know her, and she was supposed to be a sacrifice. I tried to keep my sneer in place, but it was faltering.

She bared her teeth at Liam. They were caked with dried blood, and though her eyes were still watering, but she almost looked-fierce, all of a sudden. I shook my head. Where were these ridiculous thoughts coming from?

"So now, Seraphina, love, it is your time to shine. Your time to prove your worth to me." Liam motioned to...Gia. "I want you to use all the training that I've given you and perform the ritual that the scepter was created for. The only reason why you exist." Liam's eyes glimmered hungrily in the dull lighting. "I want you to change the girl into a werewolf."

I gaped at my master. I had no knowledge of how to do such a thing. I would sooner rip the human's throat out. "I don't know how I would do that," I told him truthfully.

Liam shook his head. "It's not about knowing, love. Feel it. You have unlimited power, unlimited energy at your finger tips." The Devereaux boy's voice boomed. "You are the scepter that the Wolf King wielded in battle, the same scepter that fell victim to the Wolf Prince himself. You don't need instructions. As soon as you want something to be, it is." Liam beckoned me forward, and my feet scraped against the concrete floor as I drew closer. "All you have to do is put your hands on her, make physical contact, and then do as I taught you. You'll know what to do from there."

I gazed down at Gia. Her eyes were wide and pleading, but emptiness consumed me. It didn't matter if the human girl didn't want to be a werewolf. I was doing her an honor by turning her. Turning her when I was just a beta, with just a simple touch. I reached out my fingers and splayed them on Gia's cheek, huffing as she shook her head back and forth vigorously. She wasn't going to go easily. She was crying again, and behind me, I heard the snap of fingers. Gia's whimpers immediately were heard again, and her voice, croaking brokenly. "Sera. Sera, please."

I looked back at Liam imploringly. "Let's make this interesting," he told me with a grin.

Gritting my teeth, I turned back to face Gia. She was shaking pitifully. I closed my eyes and tried to tune out her feeble pleas. I pushed deep inside myself to find my center, and when I did, my whole body was filled with searing heat. I nearly gasped, and Gia did. I focused on siphoning her human side away from her, piece by piece, and replacing it with some of myself-my beta energy. The heat expanded, flowing into my palms and seeping into Gia's flesh. She screamed, and my eyes flew open. Her eyes were wide open, even the swollen one, and they were...they were flickering between their normal steel gray...to a brilliant gold. Gia was begging me to stop, panting and crying and screaming. I stared at her with sudden recognition. With sudden understanding of what was going on.

Suddenly, voices were in my head. Each of them belonged to a different member of my pack, pleading with me and laughing with me and anchoring me to my humanity. The burning in my palm was lessening, and the flickering in Gia's eyes was fading as well. Her eyes were almost completely golden now. I needed to find my center...I needed to stop what I was doing. I couldn't turn Gia into something that she didn't want to be, to force her into wolfhood. I couldn't. I had to grasp on to something solid. And then the words of my friends, my family...they ceased. There was just one voice speaking to me, and years no longer separated us. My father. "When you think the world is collapsing, it isn't. When you think that you have failed, you haven't. When you feel like there is no power left in you to fight back...there is. You just have to reach out your hand and grab it."

I took a deep breath and disconnected Gia's energy from mine as carefully as I could. The girl fell back in her seat, eyes nearly rolling back up in her head. But they were still the same gray that I knew. Not golden. I heard Liam demand what I was doing from behind him, but he was no longer in control of me. And there was only one sure way to make sure that he didn't have power to hold over my head. I ripped off the necklace that Amelia had given me and dropped it to the ground, crushing it under my shoe. There were much more important things at stake right now than a necklace. Liam gave an outraged shout, and I whirled around to face him. I flung out my arms, summoning as much residual energy as I could muster, and projected it forward. It flung Liam back and pinned him to the nearest wall. "You can't keep me here," he snarled. "You know you're not strong enough to do that, Seraphina!"

I shook my head, arms still out in front of me, holding him firmly in place. "I don't need to keep you here for long," I hissed. Liam struggled, giving me a feral smile that showed his teeth.

"It doesn't matter if you destroyed the necklace, Seraphina," Liam taunted. "I've influenced you so much that your mind instantly responds to me as your master. The scepter knows the Wolf Prince's commands."

With one hand still holding Liam, I used the other to cut the bonds that held Gia with my claws. Gia almost fell forward, but she managed to rouse herself enough to climb shakily to her feet. It looked like she would pass out at any second. Liam was shaking his head as though I was the most amusing thing he had ever seen. I dropped my other hand, and instead of Liam falling straight to the ground, he remained suspended in the air. That wiped the smirk right from his face.

I had been working on my abilities without him. And he didn't like that one bit. I half carried, half dragged Gia to the corner of the room as Liam snarled obscenities at me. I grimaced and pulled the Greenberg girl along with me, and when we reached our destination, Gia let out a ragged breath. "You need to get out of here-to warn the others, Sera," Gia wheezed. "Leave me. I'll be fine. He doesn't-" Gia gulped, shaking, and closed her eyes. "He's not going to kill me until tonight. But you need to leave right now. Once you get the others...you can get Scott's mom back, and Stiles' dad..." Gia looked at me through all the pain.

"I'm not leaving you here!" I exclaimed. "Not after-what he did to you. What I almost did to you..."

Gia gave me a hard look. "If you don't leave right now, Sera, everyone will die. Everyone. Leave me. I'll be fine." Gia didn't sound convinced, but I knew what she said was the truth. If I took her with me, she would slow me down and I wouldn't be able to save anyone. I gave her a destroyed look. She had been through so much already; I didn't know if I could bear to leave her here alone again. I pursed my lips. But I was going to have to.

"Stay in the corner," I whispered out. "And I'll be back for you soon, okay?"

Gia gave a tired nod and pushed her back against the wall. Her bruised face looked ten times worse in the shadows.

I swallowed hard and turned my back on Gia. Climbing the stairs that lead away from the Greenberg girl was one of the hardest things that I had ever done. At the last moment, I turned to face Liam, who was still snarling and fighting against the energy restraints. I gave him and icy look and held out one of my hands, fingers outstretched to the ceiling above Liam only. "You are no Prince," I growled to him. I closed my hand into a fist using the last remaining strength that I had, making the ceiling just above Liam collapse down onto him. "And the scepter will not be wielded."

Then I ran. I ran out of the diner, down the street, until my lungs were aching...aching. And all the while I was thinking about what I had almost done in that dark basement. I had almost forcefully turned Gia into a werewolf, only to let her be sacrificed afterward. Under Liam's control, I was a mindless killer with no regard to human safety. I didn't know where I was going other than away from the diner...away from Liam Devereaux, the killer. My feet pounded the sidewalk rhythmatically, and I poured on as much speed as my muscles would allow. Before I knew it, I was outside of Beacon Hills High, breathing raggedly. I managed to slip into the school as someone pushed open a door carelessly. For a town that had several different murders that had occured in the past year, the security was really lax.

I was still panicking on the inside, though my exterior was calm. I wondered if anyone noticed my uneven breathing, the blood smeared on my clothes, or the wild look in my eyes. If they did, no one commented or even gave me a second glance. My eyes scoured the hallways for the only two of my pack that had actually came to school today. They were standing a few feet from the boys' locker room. Lydia had her head ducked, and worry creased her face as she leaned in toward Stiles. From where I stood, I could see Stiles' hands trembling as he slowly tucked his cell phone into his pocket. His breathing was shallow, and I saw the panic in his eyes, the sheer and utter terror that was in him. I was running again and before I could fully grasp what was going on, Stiles was stumbling into the locker room. He was fighting for air on the concrete floor, fingers grasping at the dirty ground.

My own residual fear mingled with Stiles' terror. Lydia was kneeling down next to Stiles, and she was trying to keep calm as she shrilly instructed him to think of something else, anything else. I was still shaken after what had happened in the old restaurant, but right now, Stiles was my top priority. He was having a panic attack, something that I could relate to. I quickly fell to my knees beside Lydia, who had her eyes squeezed shut and was murmuring to herself. Stiles continued to hyperventilate, and I grasped his forearms, staring into his caramel eyes. "Hey, hey," I rasped, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I was beginning to go into a similiar state to Stiles. After everything that I had just gone through, and now seeing Stiles have a severe panic attack while I watched helpessly-I was gasping in air, too. "You stay with me," I told Stiles breathily, hands going up to cup his face. There were tears in his eyes as he watched me. "Focus on m-me, Stiles. You stay with me. I'm here. I'm h-here."

Then, in sheer desperation, I pressed my lips against his fiercely. Lydia watched us, eyes darting back and forth. Stiles eyes were wide open. Images flooded my mind-Stiles as a child, running on chubbby legs; Stiles in his mother's arms; Stiles wearing his dad's uniform one year for Halloween; Stiles in the hospital, standing at an empty bedside; Stiles growing up before my eyes, living and breathing and crying and laughing and EXISTING in a way that I had never seen before. In the emotional state that I was in, it seemed like I had stripped away the natural barrier in Stiles' mind and had left mine exposed as well. Because when pulled back from Stiles, I could tell that he knew everything. That he had seen everything, or at least everything that was important. He knew about Liam now, about how I had almost turned Gia under Liam's commands. He knew that Liam could somehow find a way to control me again.

And I knew what Stiles' panic attack had been about in the first place: Argent had been taken, which meant that all of the parents were gone. Somehow, while I had been with Liam, Argent had disappeared. And Stiles had started to panic because the full moon was tonight. The lunar eclipse. Which most likely that the parents would serve as sacrifices even though they weren't apart of the original ritual.

"You knew that stopping his breathing would stop the panic attack, too?" Lydia demanded, her voice still shaky. She seemed almost impressed by me.

I gave an embarrassed shake of my head. "Not really," I whispered. "I wasn't really thinking-I just kind of acted.

Stiles was still staring at me in awe, trying to breathe through his nose. "You-how did you-?"

I shot him a look. What had happened between us was hard to explain even to myself. It had honestly been one of the most intimate moments I'd had with another person. Stiles' had unintentionally opened his mind to me in his time of need, and I had done the same. I didn't want to talk about what had just happened with Lydia in the same room. Stiles seemed to understand that, because after another deep, cleansing breath, he climbed to his feet, gripping the lockers behind him for support. His legs were still quaking under him, and I could still hear the erratic thumping of his heart, but I knew that the panic attack had passed.

I let a relieved sigh fall from my lips. I was still on my knees next to Lydia, who was looking beween Stiles and I with wide, questioning eyes. I placed one hand on her shoulder, and she blinked and climbed to her feet, brushing off her dress absently. I was slower to stand; pain was lancing through my head, and I gritted my teeth and pressed my fingers against my temples. There was a tugging in my stomach as well, burning my insides like churning acid. The pull was undeniable, and I knew what it meant-Liam was still trying to control me. He wasn't dead. He was still very much alive, and he had Gia and Scott, Stiles, and Allison's parents in his clutches. Stiles saw the pain in my expression, and- with his own panic momentarily forgotten-he met my gaze.

"Is he trying to get to you?" he asked me seriously, and in that moment, I didn't even think to lie to protect Stiles. The boy had been through so much already; it was time I started trusting him completely and stopped trying things from him in order to protect him. It just ended up hurting everyone in the long run, anyway.

"Yes," I told him, swallowing hard.

Lydia was looking between us with an uncomprehending look on her face. She gave a shake of her strawberry blonde head and held up a hand. "What exactly are you two talking about?" Her voice was still shaky, and I instantly felt bad. Lydia had almost died yesterday. If it wouldn't have been for Derek's selflessness, she would be gone. She had only wanted to come to school today to find some normalcy. Over the phone, she had told me quietly, in a very un-Lydia-like voice, that she felt like she was stuck in a limbo between danger and pain constantly. There was no escape. I hated that for her. I wished she could go back to being the queen bee of the school that had no idea about the supernatural.

"Liam," I told her quietly. "Deucalion's nephew, the one who was training me. He's the one, Lydia. The one that killed Kyle and the others." Lydia tilted up her chin, pain briefly flashing in her eyes at the mention of Kyle's name. But then she pushed it back. Her hands were still trembling when I explained the rest of the story to her, starting with what happened at the restaurant and ending with how I escaped, having to leave Gia. Even saying Gia's name was hard. I didn't even know if she was alive. If Liam would spare her until nightfall after my daring escape...

"He'll move her somewhere else." I blinked at Lydia's matter-of-fact words. Even Stiles looked at her in surprise.

Lydia adjusted her hair, one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows cocked. "What? You don't expect the psycho to leave her in the same spot, do you? He's obviously smarter than everyone gave him credit for, and he's using that to his advantage. He definitely moved Greenberg somewhere else."

Stiles shook his head, brows furrowed. "Where? Greenberg's been missing for over a week. Everyone is looking for her. I doubt he could go waltzing down the street with a bloody girl in tow."

Lydia pursed her full lips and crossed her arms over her chest, stalking out of the boys' locker room, heels clicking loudly. Stiles and I followed her, and as she continued down the hallway, Lydia turned her head to talk to us. "He's killed people in public places. He's stolen people away from right under everyone's noses, Stiles. I doubt he would have a problem with moving Greenberg in broad daylight."

Stiles ran his hands through his hair restlessly, grimacing. Lydia had a perfectly good point. Daylight wasn't going to stop Liam. Stiles' gaze snapped over to me all of a sudden. "You said that none of the parents were there with Greenberg?" he asked.

I nodded. "She was all alone."

Stiles let out a curse. "He's moving her to the same place as all of the parents, then. He'll want to keep them all together now since he knows we know who he is." Stiles' expression was dark. For a moment, seeing that look on his face scared me. It reminded me too much of my time under Liam's control, and I couldn't handle that. We all came to a halt in front of the gym. Bells were ringing, but we didn't care. Going to class wasn't anywhere near one of my biggest concerns. "Liam was with you when my dad was taken, Sera. That means he was using someone else to take him. And with Morrell and your sister under his control, too, without even knowing it..."

My stomach plummeted. If Viviane was involved in this, more involved than being the one to knock Lydia unconcious...She would be devastated. I had never wanted the Sinclairs to get mixed up into this mess, but it was too late to keep them away now. "Well," said Lydia. "We need to start with Ms. Morrell, then. If she's here, she needs to know what's going on. She might know how to stop Liam." Lydia smoothed her cornflower blue dress, looking over at Stiles. Stiles nodded several times, eyes on the ground. I knew he was still trying to process what was going on. It was all happening so fast. We knew who the killer was. We had answers now, and we needed to act as soon as possible.

With Scott still with Deucalion, Allison and Isaac searching for the parents, and Derek and Peter guarding the Sinclairs and Jennifer, I felt discouraged. It was just Stiles, Lydia, and I at the moment. And though the two were brilliant, I still felt vulnerable without the rest of my pack.

Stiles was the first one to move. Lydia and I followed him as he walked down the hallway to Ms. Morrell's office. He was anxiously fidgeting the whole way there. The door, which was normally wide open, was closed. I frowned, my fingers lingering on the knob. Stiles was breathing on my neck, and the feeling made goosebumps rise on my flesh. Lydia peered over Stiles' shoulder and impatiently motioned for me to open the door. I knew she was just as nervous as I was, but with Lydia, nervousness tended to be displayed as aggravation.

I checked to make sure the hallway behind me was clear, and then I twisted the knob and pushed the door open. We all spilled into the room, blinking in the darkness. I flipped on one of the lights and Stiles and Lydia immediately squinted. The room, as I figured it to be, was completely empty. The panic settled in my throat again. Wherever Morrell was, she wasn't in the school, and that immediately looked bad for her. Though I didn't like the woman, I wouldn't wish anyone to go what I had to with Liam. I shivered at the thought. Stiles let out a groan and massaged his forehead with the heels of his hands, frustrated that we had ran into yet another dead end. Lydia, like me, however, seemed to be expecting the office to be empty. She was examining the book shelves and the filing cabinets, looking for any signs as to where Morrell could have gone.

I wandered over to Morrell's desk, pushing around meticulously stacked papers. The cleanliness of the room was almost unnatural. Most of the papers were bland, just observations of students, so I skimmed through them quickly. But then halfway through the stack, something caught my eyes. There was a picture wedged between the other papers. I held it up to the light, my eyebrows furrowing. It was a drawing of a tree, and it made with precise strokes and elegant angles.

"I drew that," Lydia said from behind me. I looked back at Lydia, who was frowning at the picture in my hands.

Stiles walked over to us, dark gray jacket haphazardly slung over only one shoulder. "Why would Morrell have one of your drawings, Lydia?"

It was a good question. Morrell had so many other things to take care of. Why would she keep student artwork? Suddenly, Stiles moved to stand behind me as well, eyes raking over the picture thoroughly. "What does that say, right there?" he inquired, pointing to Morrell's swirling hand-writting in the bottom of the left corner of the paper.

Lydia's frown deepened. "It says "roots" in Latin."

I shook my head. Something just wasn't adding up. I ran my fingers over the roots of the tree drawing, and with a gasp, I became submerged in memories. There was laughter, children's feet pounding the ground; teenagers pulling each other through the woods, their forms hidden in the shadows of the night; and then there was a clear image of a boy holding a girl in his arms, whimpered pitifully. His face turned toward me, and I saw my brother as a sixteen year old boy again. In his arms was Paige, and she was dying, coughing up black blood. Her eyes were rolling back in her head, and she was begging Derek to kill her, kill her. And with a broken cry, he did. In the darkness of the root cellar that we had used as a fort when we were children, Derek's eyes glowed brilliant blue as he murdered his first love.

Root cellar.

More images poured through my mind: ancient pictures, the tree of power standing tall in Beacon Hills, cut down in an effort to eradicate the supernatural population. I had ran around that stump hundreds of times as a kid, fingers tracing the rings inside as I giggled. The tree of power...The Nemeton, a voice whispered to me from the depths of a time unknown.

Suddenly, the bombardment of images of the past, memories that did not belong to me-they stopped. There was only one clear scene in front of me, and it nearly sent me into relieved tears. There were all the parents, tied up tightly, but very much alive. Argent was struggling against his bonds in anger, and Ms. McCall gave him a tight smile and told him that she and the sheriff had tried nearly everything. Suddenly, the door to the root cellar was thrown open with bone-jarring force, and polished boots came down the creaking wooden steps. Liam. He was holding Gia by the hair, a snarl on his lips. My heart panged in my chest when I saw the look of agony on Gia's face as she cried silent tears. Liam looked virtually unharmed, save a long gash on his forehead, but Gia-she looked worse than when I had seen had last seen her. He had definitely taken his anger out on her.

Liam tossed Gia to the ground with disgust, and with her arms tied behind her back, she had no way to catch herself. Her face collided with dirt ground, and the crunching noise I heard seemed to be Gia's nose breaking. The parents were in an uproar, all of them fighting against their restraints now to protect Gia. Gia rolled over onto her back, nose streaming blood, and aimed for Liam's shiny boots as she spit a spray of blood in saliva in his direction. The Devereaux boy shook his head smugly, climbing the stairs and slamming the doors to the root cellar shut, casting all of the potential sacrifices into darkness.

When I resurfaced from the vision, I was gasping on the ground. Stiles and Lydia were crouched beside me, hands on my back. They both looked worried. Stiles was almost shaking. "Sera? What was that? Did you-did you see something?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was full of cotton. I had seen something. A lot of something. Far too much of it. "I saw...the past," I told him hoarsely. "And I saw what is happening right now, somewhere else." I looked up and met Stiles' gaze. "I know where they are. All of them. There's a root cellar in the woods on the Preserve, the place where Derek had to kill Paige. The blood on the roots of the tree above woke it back up." Lydia inhaled a shaky breath. "Liam wants to use the power from the tree, the Nemeton, to increase his own power. That's all he really cares about. He wants to use me against everyone as a tool after he kills Gia. There was one more sacrifice to be made after Gia-the thread that connects it all. That could be anyone." I slowly climbed to my feet. Stiles' helped me, hand on my back protectively.

"So...the root cellar," Stiles said. There was hope in his caramel eyes, shining brightly. It made my heart swell. Stiles had a goal now-we were going to go save his dad and the others. We finally had a plan that would work.

"The root cellar," I agreed. My legs were still unsteady, but Stiles guided me to the door by my elbow, keeping me on my feet. Lydia was right behind us, fingers absently adjusting her fishtail braid. We had to slip out of the school unnoticed, and though classes were going on, I wasn't convinced that leaving the school unnoticed would be easy. There was one door that lead to the patio out back that was always unlocked. Many students used it if they were wanting to skip a few classes. Lydia seemed to be thinking the same thing, because as soon as we exited Morrell's room, she walked quickly toward the cafeteria. Our feet echoed against the tile floors, especially Lydia's, thanks to her obnoxiously loud heels, and I was half tempted to tell her to take the damn things off. Stealthy, she wasn't...

Lydia had already passed by the office when Stiles and I rounded the corner. Stiles had taken my hand so I could keep up since I was still feeling woozy. The feeling of my hand curled in his warm, bigger one was so intensely comforting that I let out a little sigh as we followed Lydia. But while Lydia was lucky enough to make it past the office unnoticed, Stiles and I didn't have the same luck.

Agent McCall was standing at the office window, talking to the receptionist with a dazzling, fake smile. He was dressed to perfection just like he had been when I had first met him, suit and shoes looking like they costed more than a month's rent for my old apartment. Agent Asshole couldn't have just ignored us as we tried to sneak by. Of course not. His eyes locked on Stiles and I like laser beams, narrowing. I stopped, feeling like a deer in the headlights, and Stiles jerked to a halt, too. Lydia looked back to see what was keeping us, but she was already out of the Agent Asshat's line of vision. She was safe and free to go. Since Scott's father was mostly focused on Stiles, I subltly motioned for Lydia to keep going. Go to Derek, I mouthed. She opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but then she nodded and turned away, disappearing throught the cafeteria doors.

Agent Asshole walked toward Stiles and I slowly, hands tucked in his pockets. Stiles didn't release my hand, and for that, I was thankful. Scott's father made me livid. The last thing I needed was to have two hands that were free to sock the guy in the face. "Stiles. I was just about to go find you." Agent Asshole tilted his head. "Where were you two going? There's not a break right now."

"Bathroom," Stiles blurted before I could make up a better lie. He cringed as soon as he said it, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. This boy, I thought in fond exasperation.

"I'm not feeling well," I told Scott's father. I was still shaking a bit, so I hoped that helped my cause. Agent Asshole turned his eyes on me, briefly and then looked back at Stiles.

"Uh huh. Well, then, Stiles, if you and your girlfriend are done lying to my face, care to answer some questions?"

Stiles tensed. "Like what?"

"Do you know that your father is missing? He didn't come in to work this morning, and no one saw him last night after the storm." Agent McCall eyed the two of us like we had kidnapped the sheriff for kicks. I glared back at him, once again glad that Scott was nothing like the jerk in front of us.

"I don't know," Stiles replied easily. "I thought he had to go in to the station early this morning. I came to school like I do everyday, and he was already gone." Stiles arched his eyebrows. "Why do you think he's missing?"

Agent McCall grimaced. "They found his cruiser outside the hospital, Stiles." He leaned forward. "You know nothing about this?"

Stiles shook his head, but I could tell he was getting annoyed. "No. If I knew my dad was missing, I would have called the station. Any more stupid questions for me, Agent?"

Agent McCall pursed his lips. "Just a statement. You can't stay alone without a guardian, and since there seems to be a lack of guardians..." Agent McCall looked between Stiles and I. "You'll have to come into protective custody unless someone would be willing to look after you until your father shows back up."

Stiles and I both opened our mouth to protest at the same time. But our voices weren't the one that was heard.

"I'll watch after Stiles."

Agent McCall turned around slowly, confusion etched on his face. I blinked in surprise. Deaton stood in the doorway, dressed from head to toe in dark clothes. He nodded to both Stiles and I, looking perfectly calm. Like this was one of his plans. And knowing Deaton, it probably was.

"I'll drive Seraphina home, Agent McCall. She doesn't look well. And then, of course, Stiles will say with me." Deaton's dark eyes watched Scott's father expectantly.

Agent Asshole was trying to regain his bearings, but I could still tell he was bewildered by Deaton's entrance. Deaton, the man who had been more of a father figure to Scott than Agent Asshole ever would. Deaton had a certain effect on people, though-he was rarely ever questioned. He always seemed so sure of himself that most people ended up questioning themselves before they questioned him. Agent McCall finally gave a rubbery nod and gruffly mumbled, "We'll be in touch."

Deaton gave a pleasant smile and held open the door so Stiles and I could slip by him. Stiles had dropped my hand by this point, and the lack of warmth sent a shiver skittering up my spine. The sky was overcast-there seemed to be another storm brewing. I knew now that the odd weather was most likely being caused by Liam. He was powerful, more powerful than anyone I had ever encountered before. He knew that. But he also had to know that if I could control my abilities and make them work altogether, I could defeat him. He had been furious when I destroyed Amelia's necklace.

Thinking of Liam sent the same sickening pull through me. He was still trying to worm his way into my mind. And the only way to get rid of him was to push him out of my mind completely.

I wrapped my arms around my torso as a cold wind whipped against me. Stiles had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the violent wind. He looked back at Deaton, who came up behind us with a grim expression on his face. Deaton motioned us to his eco-friendly car, and as soon as we were inside, he murmured: "I'm very sorry, Seraphina."

Stiles had let me take the passenger seat, so I had no problem looking over at Deaton in confusion. "For what?" I questioned.

Deaton tightened his grip on the steering wheel, eyes trained on something outside the tiny car. "I was assigned to watch over the Hale family. And while I've tried to help you, I normally can't provided much assistance. I should have known that the legend of the scepter would play a bigger part in this. Liam has the same spirit as Conall Devereaux, the original Wolf Prince. And you are much the same as Rhian Hale, Seraphina. She was the first scepter, the Wolf Prince's peasant girl. History tends to repeat itself if cycles are not broken. And this one is still whole."

It was so odd to hear the scepter and her Wolf Prince be given names. Deaton had been researching them intensely, but I couldn't blame him for not suspecting Liam. The boy had seemed harmless, and he had made himself seem that way. He was far more cunning than anyone had given him credit for.

"We were all blinded from who he really is," I told Deaton firmly. "He tricked me time and time again. He planted false clues and made me think he was on our side." I closed my eyes. "He made me trust him, and it's my fault, if anyone's, that he got close to the people I care about. That he came to Beacon Hills in the first place." I looked out my window. "But I'm going to set this right any way that I can."

Deaton nodded slowly and put the car into drive. Stiles was quiet in the back. His emotions churned in the air, anxiety and fear dominating. I knew he was afraid for his father. And for me. But if I could find my way back to the Nemeton, I could save everyone and kill Liam where he stood.

We arrived at the clinic in record time. At least, it felt like it. One moment we were sitting in the school parking lot and the next we were pulling into the clinic. I shook my head a bit and unbuckled my seat belt. Stiles' silence was starting to alarm me as we slipped out of the tiny car. "You okay?" I asked quietly, and though I knew the answer was going to be no, I wanted Stiles to know that I cared.

He gave me a half-hearted smile that didn't meet his eyes. "Just stay close to me...okay?" There was so much feeling in that one sentence that my heart constricted painfully. I held out my hand to Stiles, and he took it without hesitation.

"Of course," I told him in a whisper. It was just us, right now. I needed Stiles just as much as he needed me in that moment. I noticed that he had only answered my question with one of his own, but I didn't care. We would stay together. Stiles and I had gravitated toward each other from the beginning, even though at the time, I had tried to deny the pull. But now-now, there was no way I would leave him alone unless he asked it of me.

We walked hand and hand to the door of the clinic, Deaton close behind us. Stiles pulled open the door and slipped inside, tugging me along behind him. My vision started to swim when we entered the waiting room. I blinked several times, trying to clear my sight. But then the white-hot agony of a vision ripped through my skull, and I felt my knees hit the ground. Stiles was yelling, panicked, but I could longer hear his words. I wasn't with him. I was standing in the woods, watching as Morrell crashed through underbrush and jumped over fallen logs. She was just as graceful and precise on her feet as she was in the counselor's office.

There were people following her...the alpha twins and Kali. And then-another blurry image later, and I saw Deucalion with Scott at his side. Scott looked okay, which relieved me. But as Deucalion stalked toward Morrell, that relief disappated. Morrell had cast a circle of mountain ash around herself, which was smart on her part, but Deucalion still looked lethal. His sunglasses caught the light and reflected Morrell's panting form. Her eyes darted from Deucalion to the other alphas, then to Scott. I couldn't hear her as she talked-there was too much disburbance from my side. Stiles was still talking quickly, and I knew that if I didn't return to him soon, he could very well start to have another panic attack.

I heard Morrell mention something about a girl named Braeden, the same girl that had saved Isaac. The sound kept wavering in and out like a radio with bad recpetion. "Marin, my dear," I heard Deucalion tsk. "You have fallen prey to Liam's little tricks. He wants the scepter for himself, and you know as well as I do that I cannot let him retrieve her." Deucalion narrowed his sightless eyes behind his glasses. Kali and the twins watched on smugly. There were a few more sentences exchanged between him and Scott, and then Morrell spoke. But I could no longer hear what anyone was saying. There was only white noise buzzing in my ears. I watched as Deucalion pulled his walking stick apart, revealing a gleaming spear, and launched it at Morrell.

I felt myself gasp, but no actual noise left me. Scott was wide-eyed, yelling at Deucalion. He ran to Morrell's side since she broken the circle of mountain ash. She was breathing heavily, and I was getting impatient that I couldn't hear what she was telling Scott. Scott squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, and I was thrown back into my body.

Stiles had me pressed against his chest, and his fingers lingered against my jugular. My eyelids fluttered open. Stiles was only a couple inches away from my face, and Deaton had his hand on Stiles' shoulder and was peering down at me. "I'm fine," I told Stiles, trying to sit up. The Stilinski boy wasn't about to let me try to stand, though.

"You collapsed again, Sera," he pointed out quietly. Worry was still eating at him. "You've seen things that happened, things that are going to happen-more than once today." Stiles looked up at Deaton. "It's getting worse."

Deaton pursed his lips. "Tonight is the full moon, and not only that, but it's a lunar eclipse. The scepter isn't affected tonight. Seraphina's powers will remain intact, and be strengthened even, because the veil is thin tonight."

The veil was just one of the many names for what separated the mortal world from all the "magic" and on the other side. The veil also separated the alive from the dead. It was an odd thing that Ophelia had tried to explain on more than one occasion, but I still couldn't really grasp the concept. Stiles gripped my hands tightly in his. "I'm okay, really." My eyes trailed up to Deaton's. "I saw your sister. Deucalion...he hurt her. Scott was there, and he wanted to stop it, but..." I closed my eyes. "He couldn't. And then I was forced back here."

"Wait..." Stiles brows furrowed. "You saw something that was-happening right now?"

"Sera can see into the past, present, or future, depending on which poses the most importance at the time," Deaton informed us. Stiles helped me to my feet when I tried to stand again. Deaton motioned for us to come to the back room. The world was tilting, but I managed to follow the vet with Stiles' hand on the small of my back. The back room was a little bit more busy than I had expected. Lydia, Allison and Isaac were sitting on the plastic chairs, talking quietly under their breath.

They apparently hadn't heard the commotion from the waiting room, which I was very grateful for. The last thing I wanted was to cause another big scene in which everyone had to worry about me. There were more important matters at hand. Allison looked upset-dark circles rimmed her doe eyes, and her lips were trembling. Lydia met my gaze as soon as I walked in, and she climbed to her feet. "I went to Derek," she told me. "He said he and Peter are going to try to track down the alphas."

I gave short bob of my head and walked over to Allison. "I'm sorry about your dad," I told her quietly. "But we're going to get them back. We're going to save all of them." Allison gave me a watery smile and squeezed my hands.

"Thank you," she whispered. My eyes went over to Isaac. The Lahey boy was leaning forward, his hands steepled in front of him. His blue eyes were tired. Incredibly tired.

"Liam has blocked the only way I could trace the Nemeton," Deaton said gravely. All of our eyes went to him. "I assumed that he would do so. Seraphina, even you won't be able to break through the Masking charm he's placed around the Nemeton. The Preserve goes on for miles, and without that link, there is no way to find Stiles' father and Allison's father, Ms. McCall, or Gianna Greenberg before nightfall."

"How is this supposed to be good news?" Isaac asked, eyebrows rising incredulously.

Stiles pressed his arm against mine as we both watched Deaton sort through medicines and antiseptics in his cabinets. His expression was still grim. "It's not. There is a solution, however. A way for Sera to break through in order to find the Nemeton. But it will be risky, and first, we will need to locate Scott."

"He's not with the alphas anymore," I blurted. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I did. Something told me so. "He's on the outskirts of the Preserve."

Deaton looked back at me, examined my face, and then nodded, closing the cabinets. "Stiles and I will go to Scott, then. Seraphina, you and the others need to gather items of meaning. Allison, something of your father's." Allison shook her head in agreement. Deaton's dark eyes were still on me. "Sera, if you could go to Scott's home and pick up something of his mother's. It would be an item with a high level of energy, linked to Melissa's energy directly." I nodded.

Stiles didn't look like he wanted to leave me. "I'll be alright," I assured him. "You're the one who needs to be careful. Nothing reckless, okay?"

Stiles' mouth twisted to one side in a brief, lovely smile. "Me? I'm always careful. Never reckless. My best friend and my girlfriend aren't werewolves or anything...No recklessness in my life."

I rolled my eyes and pressed my lips to Stiles' in a chaste kiss. There was a warm feeling that spread through me when Stiles called me his girlfriend. I would never get used to it. "Whatever, liar. Hurry back."

Stiles' caramel brown eyes were bright for a moment, and I saw that hope in them that I loved so much. He was so full of it sometimes that it eased my fears. Stiles followed Deaton out of the room, and when I turned back around, smiling slightly, Allison and Lydia were giving me knowing looks. If it would have been any other situation, they probably would have started gushing about how cute Stiles and I were. Isaac looked semi-grossed out, and I knew part of that was because he and Stiles didn't get along very well, and I was like a sister to him.

"Come on," I told everyone, solemnity returning to my voice. "Let's go get what we need."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took longer than expected.

We had stopped at Allison's house first, and she'd grabbed something in a little velvet pouch that belonged to her dad. She had held it close to her chest as we drove the Argent's car to the McCall house. I had stood in the center of Melissa's room for several moments, trying to reach out with my mind and find the link that Deaton was talking about. Ten minutes passed and I had barely felt a flux. Aggravation had caused me to pace, and when I drew closer to the dresser, I had stopped. There had been a little pull toward the drawers. I had pulled open the top drawer and lifted a watch out of the depths, bringing it close to my face to examine it. The energy inside had called out to me, and in that moment, I knew that this was what I was supposed to grab.

We all had left the McCall house in a hurry, with Allison and Isaac taking the front seats and Lydia and I climbing into the back of the car. I had watched as Allison drove us back to the clinic with shaky hands, and my own anxiety had reached its peak.

Whatever Deaton was planning...it wasn't going to be simple.

When we walked back through the front doors of the clinic, Scott was leaning against the reception desk, Stiles at his side. They were talking to Deaton and surprisingly, Ophelia. Ophelia offered me a tight smile when she caught sight of me, and I tried to smile back, but the gesture probably looked wrong on my lips. Scott looked over at me with those dark chocolate brown eyes of his, and I felt a sob building in my chest. When I had seen him walk away the night before, disappearing into the dark with Deucalion...I hadn't thought I would see Scott like he had been before ever again. But here he was. The puppy dog of a boy who had a heart too big for his own good.

I had my arms around Scott's neck before he could react, and I squeezed him tightly, with all of my strength. I always had to be gentle with humans, but I didn't have to worry about that with Scott. Scott let out a surprised laugh and hugged me back. The kid...the kid was as good as my alpha, now. My brother had given up his power, and Scott was on his way to being a true alpha. I just knew that I would follow the kid to hell and back. I pulled away from him and tried to clear my throat. "You scared us," I told him hoarsely. His eyes were soft as he looked down at me.

"I would say I won't do it again, but that would be..."

I nodded and opened the hand with the watch in it, offering it to the McCall boy. Scott took the watch slowly. "My dad got my mom this watch when she first got hired on at the hospital." Scott gave a small, sad smile. "She used to say that it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."

Deaton led us into the back room again. Three tubs of water and ice were stationed in the middle of the room. I looked over my shoulder at the doctor, eyebrows furrowing. Scott and Stiles seemed like they knew what was going on, and they were eerily calm. "What's-the plan?" I asked Deaton. Fear made my voice tremble. I didn't like the look of this.

"Essentially, Scott, Allison, and Stiles will be surrogate sacrifices for their parents." Deaton gave me an even look.

"They die for them?" My voice climbed an octave.

Deaton winced, and Scott stepped forward. "But he can bring us back, Sera. He needs us to give up a part of ourselves for our parents, and when we do, the energy we give off will be able to lead you to the Nemeton."

My hand went up to press against the side of my face. Bile climbed up my throat. "You can...you can bring them back, right?"

Deaton ran his hands along the edge of one of the tubs of water, looking at Scott out of the corner of his eye. "You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?" Scott nodded solemnly, and Deaton looked back to me. "If it goes right, Sera, they should only be dead for a few seconds, just long enough for their energy and their parents' energy to link to yours." Deaton stepped back and adressed Stiles, Allison, and Scott now: "But there is something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing for more reasons than 'll be giving power back to the Nemeton, a place that hasn't had power in a long time." Deaton gestured with his hands. "This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural, the kinds of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a beastiary with."

Opehlia stepped forward, taking her place at Deaton's side. Her white-blonde hair was French braided out of her eyes, and her silver eyes were grave. "It will draw them here, like a beacon."

"Is that it?" Scott asked.

Deaton shook his head. "No. It will also have an effect on the three of you. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It'll be a kind of darkness around your heart, and permanent, like a scar." Deaton met all of our eyes, one by one.

"Like a tattoo," Scott whispered.

Something in me was panicking like never before. They were going to die. Scott, Allison, and Stiles. They were going to die so I could use their energy, the energy linked to their parents, to trace the path to the Nemeton. Deaton said it was the only way. But was it? What if we were making a mistake?

Stiles had his dad's badge which he had found in the abandoned police cruiser, Allison had a silver bullet her father had made for her, and of course, Scott had his mom's watch. A piece of their parents to seal the link.

"Now what?" Allison asked. Her voice trembled traitorously. She was terrified.

Deaton motioned to the tubs. "The three of you will get in, with Sera at the center behind you. Each of us will hold you down until you're essentially..." The vet trailed off. "Well, dead." My heart pounded hard at those words. Temporary, temporary, I tried to remind myself.

"But it's not just someone to hold you under," Ophelia added. "It needs to be someone who can pull you back, someone that has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether."

"Lydia, you'll be with Allison," Deaton murmured quietly. "I'll hold Scott. And Sera, you will hold Stiles as you go with them. Ophelia will be watching you to make sure nothing wrong."

I looked into Stiles' eyes. This was my worst nightmare come true. I was supposed to kill him. Even though Stiles would come back, and we could save the parents and Gia...I had an awful feeling that something would go wrong. If Stiles didn't wake back up, and I was the one to drown him, to take his life...I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. I didn't know if I could do this. I tried so hard to be strong, to be a Hale, fearless and powerful. But killing Stiles, no matter if he would be dead for only a few seconds or not-I didn't know if I could do it.

Allison and Scott were already climbing into the tubs, gasping as the icy water soaked into their clothing, rushed against their skin. Stiles was a little slower. He placed his hands on either side of the tub, slowly lowering himself into the water. He gritted his teeth as he sank down. I moved to stand behind him, tears sliding down my cheeks as I placed my hands on his shoulders. Stiles looked up at me, taking one shuddering breath after another. "I'm coming back for you," he told me, teeth chattering. "I trust you, Sera. I know you can do this." I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my lips against Stiles' in one last desperate kiss. It only lasted a second, but it eased some of the worry in me. Some, but not much.

I pulled away, and Ophelia came to stand behind me, hand resting in the crook of my elbow. "Non deficiet," she whispered in my ear.

Stiles looked over at Scott, shaking beneath my hands. "By the way," he breathed. "If I don't make it back and you do, you should probably know something." Stiles gulped in another breath. "Your dad's in town."

Scott stared at his best friend with wide eyes, barely having time to process the information before Deaton began to push him under water. Beside me, Lydia was doing to the same to Allison. Isaac was watching all of us, wide-eyed, as I slowly began to push Stiles under as well. My heart was breaking as Stiles slid beneath the water, bubbles coming out of his nose in one huge burst. Ophelia gripped my elbow as I continued to cry, opening my mind to all of the energy swimming around me. The world faded in and out, white splotches gradually taking over my vision. I'm sorry, Stiles. I'm sorry. You have to come back to me. You have to.

Legs quaking under me, I let my energy mingle with the others' competely, submerging myself in the darkness that they had fallen into.

The last thing I saw was the brilliant glow of Scott's golden eyes as they opened from under the water, seeing the world for the last time.

Hi! Thank you all for the amazing reviews and responses on the last few chapters. You're lovely, lovelies! This is one of the last chapters, and though I'm sad that Ignite is almost over, it has been an amazing journey. Plus, everyone can have the sequel to look forward to. Ooh, and don't forget-the 200th reviewer will either get to have a questionnaire session with me or a sneak peek snippet of the sequel. Please review! I'd really love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

-Harley