The sun shyly peeked over the horizon. Clouds of pink, purple, and red parted as the crystal blue sky awakened. The blades of grass and leaves of trees glittered with morning dew. The first chirpings of birds accompanied the sun as it made its' ascent into the heavens.
Allison stepped onto the back porch and stretched, crossbow slung over her shoulder. Her black hair was pulled back from her face in a messy bun. She breathed deeply for a moment, her chocolate brown eyes sweeping the yard. A small line creased her forehead. She would never be used to having to watch her back everywhere she went, even in her own home.
She marched over the soggy grass, past the back gate, into the depths of the trees. She walked until the canopy above blocked out the majority of the light. The rhythmic crunch of leaves under her feet reminded her of those times as a young girl when things were beautiful, when they were easy. The dawn, which once brought serenity and calm to her, only filled her stomach with dread. Her mother had always told her the sunrise meant more than the new day; it meant second chances, new revelations. She should have known even then as a naïve child it was more; the dawn meant another day to fight to live or a day to die. It was a horrid time caught between night and full day, good and evil. Like her, it had no place.
Allison was not proud of the things she'd done since moving to Beacon Hills. She was not the double crosser, the deceiver…the murderer. She shook the memory of Erica's terrified shrieks from her head. Who had the monster really been that night? It certainly wasn't the teenagers running for their lives. Yet no matter how much she berated herself for what she did, she continually fell into the same trap. Kate had twisted her innocence and confusion to get Derek; Gerard had used her grief and anger to turn her into a coldblooded machine that did his dirty work. It was a sick pattern; she'd always fall prey to her emotions and her family. Unlike the others she didn't have a set future anymore; not since she'd accepted the fact that Scott was hers. Was she a hunter in which case he would eventually die by her hand? Was she to leave her father and become one of them and die by her father's hand? Where did she fit in? The middle had once been safe, neutrality serving to keep her friends and parents with her always. It was no longer an option; it was selfish and had cost far too much. It was time to choose loyalties.
A lone tear slipped down her cheeks and she impatiently batted the rest away. She was tough, not a cry baby. It was time to move forward, to try and correct her mistakes with her actions now. Taking another deep breath, she notched an arrow, aimed, and let it fly. It zipped through the air before snagging the trunk of a Bigcone spruce seventy five meters away. She reloaded, still struggling to comprehend her place in this war between the supernatural and hunters. She remembered her fist day at training weeks ago and Erica's chilling snarl.
"She's not one of us Derek! How could you ally with that two faced bitch? Did you forget how she tried to kill us all, what she did to me and Boyd? She would have killed her own boyfriend if her psycho grandfather hadn't needed him. She's a traitor and I refuse to trust her even for a minute. She's as twisted as her family."
She let the second arrow go, smiling when it splintered the first. What Erica had said was true to an extent. No matter what happened or what anyone wanted she knew she couldn't kill Scott. Allison may have made dire decisions that left a fissure in the relationship, but she still loved him. She would do anything for him, even at the pack's expense. It may have been selfish, but it was how she truly felt. She wasn't going to pretend to like Derek at all, but she had come to realize bitterly that her mother had dug her own grave. She thought of Stiles, sweet and loveable Stiles. He didn't like her much and with good reason. She'd stolen his best friend; kept breaking said friend's heart; and had allowed her grandpa to kidnap and beat him. She would not admit it, but she'd known the plan, excluding Gerard trying to become an alpha obviously. Despite his contempt however, she did care for him. He was too vibrant and expressive a person to simply hate or ignore. Secretly she'd told herself that had she never met Scott he would have been her second choice; but knowing how screwed up she was at the moment she couldn't fathom hurting him like she had Scott.
Sighing she dropped to the forest floor in the kneeling and prone position, letting a few more arrows go. She could at least be sure that she had a future with Scott and Stiles, both of whom were fiercely loyal. Of course she had her father to consider. He was literally the only family she had left and vice versa. Where did his loyalty lie? He'd fought alongside Derek and the pack since Scott had been turned. They'd taken down Peter and Gerard together. Had that changed his philosophy at all? Did he reconsider who were the real dangers in the town? Or would he disregard those instances? Allison let her stomach drop. If it came to it…if her father tried to kill the pack without provocation that could be proved…Allison knew that her father knew she would side with the wolves; she'd willingly fight to kill her own father.
She sprang to her feet and went to collect the used arrows. These few moments of solitude gave her time to think without outside influences. Her mind felt clearer than it had been since her mother had died. It was confusing and sad to think that her life would unravel if one of the pack members were to overstep the shaky treaty they had with the Argents. Yet she knew in the end her father would be proud of her for choosing and sticking with the ones she loved. That was soothing to think about.
A branch snapped to her right and she was immediately on high alert. As quietly as possible she loaded a special flare into the crossbow and began to back towards her yard. She surveyed the surrounding trees as she went, ready to strike at any moment. This was what she was best at; this was why she was strong. Silence rang through the wooded area; the birds had stopped singing. A predator was close by; she was being hunted, and not by friendly parties. Slowly, she dug out her silver cell phone and called the person she knew would rally the pack the fastest. "Lydia it's me Allison. I'm going hunting." She snapped the device closed and tossed it to the ground. They had all chosen codes to use when they were in trouble: hers was "I'm going hunting"; Scott, predictably, used her name; Erica and Boyd agreed to simply howl; Jackson and Lydia both used the date they officially got together; Isaac called his brother's name and Stiles chose his mother's name. Derek and Peter refused to get one at all.
She aimed into the bushes to her left. Her finger skimmed the trigger, her pulse steadied. The seconds ticked by, but she waited. She was patient, letting the leaves fall around her without breaking her position, slipping into the deadly hunter she really was. Something flickered in her peripheral vision and she released the flare without hesitation. It whistled and thwacked against the creature. Bright lights exploded, illuminating the silhouette of a woman. She quickly notched another arrow and sent it into the thigh of the wolf.
"It's rude to sneak up on people. Especially a huntress", she taunted. Allison was not cocky, but this time she couldn't help herself. These alpha's had picked the wrong unstable teen to mess with.
The woman stumbled out of the bushes, eyes as dark as blood. She shook so violently her strawberry curls were dancing. The she wolf bared her fangs and Allison let loose another projectile, turning and making a mad dash for her house. She needed to get her father and get more ammo, her supply running dangerously low. Behind her the alpha roared in displeasure. Allison had been training harder than most to perfect her hunting abilities. It was top priority to know how to effectively take out the alpha wolves without dying in the process. An idea popped into her head, one she'd only ever practiced on Derek himself. She pivoted and ran towards the woman. The alpha snarled and swiped out with serrated claws. Allison rolled to the left before using her momentum to flip over the wolf's head. She pulled a silver blade from her combat boots and plunged it between her shoulder blades. The woman howled as the blade sunk to its' hilt, wolfs bane slipping into her blood stream.
The enraged animal kicked back before Allison had time to react, catching her in the stomach. The wind whooshed out of her, her back colliding with the trunk of a tree. She doubled over, retching in agony. Her survival instincts kicked in and she dodged as another kick came her way, this time aimed for her head. The impact left a fissure in the trunk. She sprinted towards her yard, running through the tips Derek had given her during training. Don't ever give a wolf the chance to grab you, keep moving or you'd die. She had to get back up and fast. Where the hell was the cavalry?
A clawed hand reached out suddenly, yanking her by her hair which had slipped from its bun. Her head snapped back, sending excruciating pains down her spine. The woman spun her around and slammed a fist into her jaw. Stars exploded before her eyes, the coppery blood filling her mouth. The she wolf was wild, her face pasty white, breath reeking of decay and blood, human blood. "You insolent little brat; you think a pathetic girl stood a chance against me? I am the top lieutenant, my husband the second. Did you honestly believe that I would let some stupid human-?"
Allison used every ounce of will power she had and spat in the female's face. The blood and saliva splattered the wild woman's face, droplets shining in her hair. The eyes widened in fury, her nostrils flaring. The woman lifted her off of her feet and tossed her farther into the woods. She heard the sickening crunch of bone before she felt it, saw the unnatural bend to her wrist. She cradled it to her chest, attempting to crawl away from the advancing beast. The alpha pounced, pinning Allison beneath. A sick smile played on her lips, her finger tracing Allison's jaw line before sinking one claw at a time into her cheek.
Allison couldn't hold back the yelp. She writhed beneath the beast's weight as she withdrew one talon at a time. The woman laughed, face lighting up in glee. She skimmed down until her palm lay above her left breast. Red eyes stared down into brown ones and she once again plunged her hand into the tender flesh. Allison's back arched, a blood vessel popping, her scream hitting octaves it never had before. She sobbed when the hand yanked away. They were buried again in her upper thigh. Her heart skipped a beat; the alpha was grinning from ear to ear. "So fun…" she cooed before slicing through her leg. She felt every ounce of burning pain; the tendons ripping, muscles shredding, bone carved by the claws. The alpha leaned in and pressed her blood red lips to her hear. "This was for your alpha. He should have heeded my mistresses' warning; she does not like being bored. Trust me your fate is much better than the others will suffer. I am the gentle one of my pack; my husband is as sadistic as they come. He was promised a much more fun prize when this is over, a trophy of sorts. He enjoys the hunt unlike me. The most valuable prize if the hardest to win."
The teenage girl coughed, vision blurring. She was losing too much blood, she was going to die. Her mind whirred, trying to come up with some plan to at least take the alpha down with her while processing what had been said. A valuable prize… they wouldn't want to toy around with Derek, they'd kill him. Lydia could be the possible prey, her being so rare. Allison coughed again, chest burning. She felt something press against her lower back, something cold and metal. The alpha pulled away and raised a bloody finger to her forehead. She traced something there, too focused to notice Allison grab the object. The alpha froze, but it was too late. She pressed the barrel to the blonde's temple, her mother's prized pistol gleaming in the sun. "Win this bitch." She pumped the trigger twice, splattering herself and the ground with blood. The woman's eyes bulged, her body sagging sideways to the ground.
Allison dragged herself to the nearest tree and hoisted herself unto her good leg. She clutched it for support, her breath rattling, head spinning. She distantly heard the frantic footfalls of her rescuers. Stiles burst through the shrubbery first, a special shotgun she'd loaned him aimed at the dead beast. Lydia and Jackson came next, the newest wolf transformed. Isaac, Derek and Boyd flanked around Stiles, Derek moving slightly in front of him. Isaac was flinching, actually whimpering at the scene before him. She smiled weakly at them, strength waning. Her eyes swept over them all until they found the person she had to see before she passed on. She focused on that wild and curly chestnut brown hair; those sweet brown eyes that sparkled with terrified tears; her angel had finally come. He rushed to her side, scooping her close to him as her leg gave way. She weakly clung to him, his warmth sending shivers through her. She laid her unharmed hand on his cheek and rubbed it soothingly with her thumb. "Scott…"
The alphas had taken things too far. Attacking a werewolf was one thing, a human was another. They'd meant to kill Allison. That much was clear; had they wanted to hold her hostage she would not have been hurt that bad. The dead alpha has tortured her, nearly tore her apart. The only question was why. Why had they targeted her specifically? If they wanted to eliminate an actual hunter, wouldn't Chris be the intended victim? Allison was good, but the girl was a novice at best. It was senseless.
Derek rubbed his eyes tiredly. He wouldn't vote for the girl in a popularity contest, but that didn't mean he didn't care for her. He didn't agree with her recent choices but he couldn't be heartless; she'd had it rough as of late. She was manipulated, confused and hurt; she wasn't exactly in her right mind when she trampled over the people she once called her friends. She was just lost. She was important to Scott and by default important to him and the pack. True, Allison was not allowed in actual meetings, but she'd somehow become pack. The girl was stronger than most teenagers her age. She had lost everyone but her father and was in love with a monster. She didn't deserve this at all, even if she occasionally tried to kill them.
He looked around the reception area until he found Scott. The boy was in a corner, hair sticking at odd angles, eyes bloodshot, clothes covered in blood, an inhaler between his rigid fingers. He reeked of despair; a low whine slipped through his teeth every time his super hearing picked up Allison's heart stutter or she groaned. The boy had relapsed; his body was fighting against him. He'd had two asthma attacks since arriving at the hospital, the second worse than the first. Derek had seen that happen to bitten werewolves before; some died from the excruciating pain of their wolf trying to calm the human emotions that had intensified.
Derek surveyed the rest of his pack. Erica had her head resting on Boyd's shoulder; and though her blonde hair obscured her face, Derek could smell the salt from her tears. She was distraught, caught between hating herself and righteous anger. Erica had to be tracked down, then she adamantly refused to come to Allison's rescue. He was prepared to order her, but they all heard the agonizing shriek and left her fuming. Those minutes they'd spent arguing could have saved Allison much suffering, and Erica knew this. Boyd tried to comfort his girlfriend in his silent monk sort of way.
Lydia sat in a daze. She hadn't spoken since they'd found the mangled girl on the brink of death. Her hair had lost its' luster, her cheeks hollowing out. Derek kept a close eye on her; her hybrid powers were affected more from her emotions than they'd realized. Her grief was toxic. Jackson was hovering protectively. The kid was in shock over what happened, but otherwise his focus was on Lydia. Every time he touched her, her hair would brighten, her eyes sparkle a tad.
Isaac stood guard outside Allison's room while her father sat inside. He was also watching the others, only his stare was possessive. The boy had come from a broken home and now that he had a family he didn't want to lose it. Derek could relate. After the fire he never imagined he could ever have that family bond with anyone ever again. Laura was there, but she was grieving as well, they weren't a family. Isaac had had a brother, mother, and father who had loved him; but the woman had left them in the cold; his brother had died some years later; and the man he'd trusted, the only one he had left had abused him for years until he died. Derek was proud of Isaac for not pushing people away as Derek had done.
Stiles was tucked into his side, their fingers intertwined, completely silent. That worried him. He loved to hear the boy's incessant banter- sometimes- and wasn't used to his muteness. His heart kept skipping as though he were warding off a panic attack. He distantly recalled when the boy had witnessed the jeep crushing the mechanic. Whether Stiles would admit it or not, that experience had scarred him. Now this, seeing the last person any creature with a heart would hurt covered in gashes and blood…it was too much. Derek rubbed his arm affectionately, trying to soothe him.
It occurred to him then that this was his fault. He was the alpha, the protector of his pack. He had been so preoccupied with training them that he'd forgotten that some members were human and therefore required a little extra protection. That was error number one. Waiting had been the second. Hadn't the red head made it clear that is she became bored they'd pay? Their mark on Allison's forehead was evidence enough that she meant business. He'd waited until they attacked first and now one of his pack members were hurt. If Allison didn't pull through…
"It's not your fault Derek." Erica whispered, pulling him from his reverie. He looked into her puffy red eyes. The others were watching him too, all except Scott who remained mute. He huffed and glared out the window until he felt a slight squeeze. He looked down patiently at Stiles.
"She's right Derek. It's nobody's fault. Not this time." He murmured. His eyes were wide and sincere, innocent almost. He heard an irritated growl and looked incredulously at Lydia. She stood, looking normal and deadly.
"Listen to them stupid. Instead of us sitting here like she's dead we should be preparing to go to war. They've gone too far. Now we have to play the offensive." She spoke calmly, but in all reality she looked lethal now. She was progressing at an unprecedented rate. He growled in frustration. Didn't they understand how dangerous that was? He was trying to keep them alive, not rush into a fight they couldn't win. He couldn't fathom losing any of the annoying teens, not at the hands of those monsters. His blood ran cold as the images of their broken, lifeless bodies flitted past. He would not lose his family, not again. Before he could tell them as much a bell twinkled over head and the others tensed. Derek reacted instinctively. His arms wound around Stiles waist and he stuffed the startled boy behind his back, as far from the door as possible. He stopped then, cursing himself and whoever else he could think of. He knew staying in the hospital was a bad idea, but he had to be with his pack. These were things he couldn't explain to the sheriff who was eyeballing him disgustedly. Things just got complicated.
Author's notes:
Sorry it took so long, but this chapter took awhile to shape just right…and I had to see breaking dawn part2! Anyway, rate or pm me anytime. I really hope you guys enjoy this.