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Chapter 15

Derek knew they were getting close. The trees blurred as he continued to push himself, cursing himself that he took Danny over her. Melanie and Stiles's scent grew stronger. Isaac screamed and fell over suddenly causing them to stop.

"Isaac!" Derek exclaimed and caught him before he hit the ground.

He lowered the teenager to his knees. Isaac clutched his chest, his eyes flashing those golden irises. His chest burned agonizingly, causing his eyes to water. He struggled to breathe. Any moment it felt like he'd completely obliterate from the inside out and holding himself didn't do anything for the pain.

"What is it?" Derek demanded. He looked up and down the boy, but wasn't finding and trace of blood or wounds.

Isaac groaned. He could barely breathe. Each breath made the pain worse until it suddenly just stopped. It didn't fade away or anything of the sort. It just up and stopped like it had never occurred.

"What the hell was that?" Derek growled angrily.

"I don't know," Isaac replied, standing up. He rubbed his chest. "It felt like a knife was shoved through my chest. I only know what that's like because Melanie stabbed me with a knife in the shoulder. It was terrible, Derek. I can't explain it."

He'd never felt anything like that in his life. It wasn't just some physical pain. Something deep in his chest-his heart hurt, and even broke a little. There wasn't a sane explanation for it. The feeling made his suddenly depresses and ready to give up. His eyes were glistening, threatening tears. He clenched his fists tightly. What do I do, he thought.

At their feet were droplets of blood. Melanie's blood. That's why it was strong. Isaac's heart pounded harder. The thought of her being dead sent his mind reeling.

"Something's wrong," he croaked.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"I don't know. I can just feel it," Isaac said.

They continued to follow Melanie's blood trail to the edge of the cliffs. Cora sat on her butt, her hands splayed behind her. Tears brimmed her eyes, stroking her cheeks raw. Derek looked around. Stiles was leaning over the edge of the cliff, staring down at the waves with a crushed look. Salty air rushed with every crash of the waves. Deucalion stood off to the side, observing their grief. Kali and Ennis eyed them cautiously in crouched positions.

"It seems that our business here is done," Deucalion said.

"Melanie!" Stiles screamed. The single word echoed hauntingly down to the water. A single tear fell over the edge, following his scream.

Deucalion turned and walked to the tree line.

"Don't come back," Derek said low.

He held Isaac back from attacking the alpha. Isaac struggled against the tight gasp. Why wasn't Derek killing them? After all this, they deserved to be torn apart. She's gone because of them. His stomach lurched from the thought. Gone. He couldn't believe that he thought that. It wasn't long ago that they'd been arguing. Maybe it had been the adrenaline, but he enjoyed their argument. Her nostrils flared and her voice had gotten heated. And for a split second everything around them disappeared. The moment was so fast that he wasn't even sure it had happened, until now. He was sure of it. Now she was gone. The sea had taken her from him.

"Derek, I don't think you understand," Deucalion said, stopping.

"If you return I will kill you," Derek said with finality. There had been enough death. If there was a fight tonight, there'd be more.

"You think you can fight me?"

"I will." His voice was strong.

Deucalion pondered those two words then turned on his heel and left with his pack. Like a stone statue, Stiles hadn't moved from his spot. Derek came up beside him and stared over the cliffs, nearly sharing the same grief stricken expression. There was no way she made it. She would've hit the rocks and drown. His jaw clenched and he shut his eyes to stop himself from crying. She fought. That's who she was, who she always was—a fighter.

She saved the others. It was strange that she did. She didn't even really like them. That was what she showed everyone. Every opinion she had was filled with strong annoyance.

"We have to go," Derek said.

"We have to find her!" Isaac exclaimed. His heart beat erratically in his chest.

"She's gone!" Derek yelled at the beta. His breath hitched suddenly, sounding like a hiccup. His eyes widened at his own outburst. The words out loud made it real.

He couldn't think. He couldn't even believe he said it. His vision blurred quickly as tears brimmed his eyes. The soft crashing of the waves below made him shudder. He backed away from the gravelly edge and disappeared into the woods, leaving the people he came to rescue.

Isaac collapsed to his knees. None of them moved for a long time that was possibly hours. There were no words that crossed their lips into anything audible. When they were able to move it was just barely and the sun had begun to paint the sea in various oranges, pinks and purples. The sense of rebirth a sunrise normally portrayed only felt like a symbol of death, leaving its beauty lost on them.

Scott had come back for them. He told them how he'd taken Ethan, Aiden, Danny, Allison and Lydia home. Isaac and Stiles sat in the back and Cora sat up front. He glanced at each of them. They'd grown pale. With the combination of dirt and blood and expressionless looks from the long night they looked dead.

"Where's Melanie? Did she already make it out? Maybe Derek got to her and they're okay. I haven't seen him since he went back into the woods," Scott said, answering his own question. He was nearly smiling, hopeful that they'd beaten the alpha pack.

His bouts of optimism were always rare and usually had good timing. This wasn't good timing. Nobody responded. Cora kept her eyes on the slowly disappearing woods. Among the filtered sun and green, she could picture Melanie running out there, not fearing for her life. She smiled as the wind whipped through her long hair. She was nearly flying as she ran with no shoes. She was fast.

"Cora," Scott pulled her from her daydream. She turned. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Saving my best friend."

"Whatever. I lost mine." She shrugged and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She didn't have a lot of riends and certainly didn't claim any, but Melanie was one. In her heart she knew she should've tried to stop Melanie. Fucking moron, Cora thought enraged.

The water had gone cold on Lydia's ivory skin. The curse of being a ginger—redhead was the light skin that almost always burned under the summer sun. She'd stood under the shower-head's downpour for the last two hours. The dirt that clung to her skin was long gone as were the drip trails of blood, but it didn't feel like it. All that remained were minor cuts from branches having caught on her skin. Aiden knocked on her door often to be sure that she was okay.

She couldn't get the furious look on Danny's face out of her head. He talked the whole ride home. Nobody else spoke. Not even Scott. He focused on the road, a wrinkle set into his forehead.

The twins both had the same looks on their face. Their eyebrows were pulled together and their lips formed a grim line. They'd sealed their fate, deciding to walk away from a psychotic pack. Everyone was uneasy with their shiftiness.

Lydia had taken Aiden's hand. She shook as she did. It was unclear if they'd really left the pack, but in the depth of her gut she felt they deserved a chance. They helped get her and Danny out of the woods. She remembered the whole event clearly.

Scott didn't let go of her wrist. It seared painfully from where the ropes had rubbed into the skin, chaffing it.

"We have to go back. Allison's back there!" Lydia cried.

Neither Derek nor Scott said anything. Dirt flew up around her as she struggled in Scott's grip. Why wasn't he listening? Didn't he care about Allison? She looked at Aiden hopefully. If he really cared for her he'd help. He shared the same frightened look that she had. He'd abandoned everything he knew for them, for her.

"Scott—"

They made it to the car. Derek pushed Danny at the car.

"Get them home then come back to get everyone else. Drive fast," he said monotone.

"Listen asshole, I don't have any idea what's going on. Who says you won't kill us?!" Danny shouted.

"Get in the car!" Derek yelled at him, his eyes glowing threateningly.

Danny just glared and got in the car.

"Tell Melanie that she and I are going to have a serious talk when this is all over," he snapped then shut the car door.

Lydia had never seen Danny angry before. It was terrifying. She wasn't sure if he was going to murder everybody in the car or what. The air was thick with tension and silence, except for Danny's questions.

Scott told them to get some rest each time he dropped them off. Aiden stayed with her. Ethan and Danny split ways when Scott pulled up to Danny's house. Scott suggested that he go to Derek's loft and stay there. His tone grew graver the more he spoke. The realization was hitting him. Someone might get seriously hurt. The denial didn't do any good.

Lydia shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Her fingers were extremely wrinkly. Taking a white, fluffy towel from the rack, she dried the loose water from her hair until it was damp. She hugged her robe around her body and tied it tightly around her waist. The reflection she faced in the mirror was cloudy. That was how life was anymore. Cloudy. She was beginning to forget about what it was like to be a teenager.

"Stiles, you have school in an hour," Sheriff Stilinski said, peering into his son's room.

"Okay," Stiles sighed.

He'd only been lying down for an hour. His eyes felt tired and dry like he'd rubbed them too much. The sun peaked into the room over his the end of his bed. He looked at the floor, thinking about Melanie when she had come over the night/early morning of the attack by her psycho ex and stayed here. It had comforted her just as much as him to have one another in the same room. He wasn't sure if he would've gotten to sleep that night if she hadn't come over. It was the moment he decided they were friends.

The sheriff sat down in the computer chair and rolled up beside his son. Stiles yawned. The heaviness of his eyes increased. Lunch was going to be naptime today. But first, he was going to need a shower before going anywhere. The first thing he did once he made it through the front door was plop down on his bed. Getting up the stairs was a challenge. He tripped on the fifth step.

"Do you want to explain why you were out all night?"

"Not really, Dad."

"I was searching for you everywhere," Stilinski grounded out. "Explain."

"There's nothing to explain," Stiles exasperated, getting up. He stretched out his arms. His muscles ached like from Lacrosse practice when Coach was having a bad day.

"Stiles, you look like roadkill."

"I got kidnapped and ended up running for my life from psychotic werewolves. Is that enough? Can I please get a shower now?" Stiles's voice shook. He didn't want his Dad to ask any more questions. The answers only got worse.

"Yeah," Sheriff breathed speechlessly "Yeah, you can go."

Stiles closed the bathroom door and met himself in the mirror. The blood on the side of his face had dried up; smudges of dirt ran across his skin everywhere. Small holes littered his shoulder from tree branches that grabbed a hold of him. He gripped the edge of the sink tightly. His knuckles turned white. A flash of memory struck him. He flinched, taking in a harsh breath.

"Melanie!"

His eyes shot open and he raised his hands to his hair. How many people had they lost? This was only high school. Wasn't the crazy shit supposed to happen in college?

Isaac stayed with Scott that night. He couldn't go to an empty home. It would only make him feel worse, and he felt sick to his stomach as it was. Allison offered to stay with him, but more than anything he just wanted to be alone. He knew she'd want to talk about the argument. What would he say? My body is going through a change? It does that enough already. There was no good answer for what happened, and he couldn't handle her right now.

The whole gang or pack as Stiles called them met up at lunch. The majority of classes were quiet for them as they each played last night over again in their heads. The event was different for each of them and left them inaudible. Ethan and Aiden didn't even show up.

"She couldn't have given two shits about any of us," Scott spoke up first. "I don't get it."

"Because, she did care. Or at least she knew how much we meant to each other," Danny said low. He stared at the table with a grim look.

"How's Derek?" Stiles asked. "Cora?"

"I haven't heard from them," Scott said.

"If it isn't the alpha pack killing people then the killer is still on the loose," Allison chimed in.

"They're sacrifices," Stiles said.

Every head at the table turned to look at him.

"I've been looking at my Dad's case files over the last few weeks. The blow to the head, strangulation and cut throat; all sacrifice. I was going to say something, but then there was the whole blue moon thing…" he said flat and emotionlessly, trailing off. He stared across the room of chattering teenagers eating their lunches, having no clue of what was going on.

"Why are people being sacrificed?" Danny asked after a few minutes passed.

It was confusing enough to know that his friends weren't his normal friends and they had decided not to share that fact. But sacrifices? His head swirled with information overload.

Sheriff Stilinski didn't leave for the station right away. There were calls that had to be made. Melissa was in the same situation as him. Scott didn't tell her much of anything either. Chris had called him seeking answers. All of them were in the same boat.

What the hell happened that the kids had gotten so shaken up and couldn't tell them? He knew how their lives were and he accepted it, to a point. His next call was to the local veterinarian, Deaton. He worked with Derek on a more personal level. He would know something.

Getting ready to dial, there was a thudding at the door. His lips pursed together. He thought about making them wait. This was more important. The thudding persisted followed by the sound of something sliding across the door, almost like scratching.

Huffing, he shoved his phone in his pocket then brushed his fingers across his gun holster.

"I'm coming," he grumbled, opening the door.

Wet like a drowned cat, Melanie clutched the doorframe, trying to hold herself up. Her hair dripped and clung to her face and arms.

"Melanie, oh my God," Sheriff Stilinski said, frozen by the half-dead sight.

"He-" she hiccupped, her stomach lurching painfully for the umpteenth time. She keeled forward and puked up blood in a mixture of water on the welcome mat, her body arching involuntarily. "Hel-help."

Her eyes half-lidded, she felt the grip of the wooden doorframe under her hand slipping and she fell forward. Her body thudded to the ground and she stared at the Sheriff's shoes with more water pushing up her esophagus. It oozed from her mouth. Sheriff Stilinski was more focused on her back. Two large scale lesions were spread across it with other small ones. Her eyes fluttered shut, the stinging pain surging through her nerves.

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