Hello my lovelies! I am so sorry for my lateness. College is a crazy busy place. I have returned, though with a new chapter for you great readers.

This chapter has extreme Mature content ;) I don't have a lot of this but this chapter contains it.

So, without further adieu...

Chapter 30

Melanie rubbed the back of her neck as mental images of the activities from earlier today flitted over the nerves in her mind. She blinked tiredly and her mouth felt stuffed with cotton that tasted like spicy garbage. She'd puked twice when she got home. It wasn't Drake's fault, not really. He was good and sweet in all the right ways a guy should be when a determined, horny girl jumps him in the midst of a heat wave. she was the problem. Something was wrong.

It's just some weird flu bug from the heat, she thought. A shower made her feel a little better, but not by much. Sweat quickly replaced the cool beads of water that had coated her clean skin. The heat didn't bother her. It was the unpleasant thoughts and desperate need it provoked out of her. Poor Drake. He'd called twice already. It went straight to voicemail. She didn't have the heart to tell him that it meant nothing, that it had been a pointless screw.

Sweat tickled down along her spine through the black lace of her tank top that clung to her back. She hoped the heat wave would end soon. Her mind, body, and surroundings; they all buzzed and hummed pleasantly and unpleasantly alike. Leaning against the counter, she rubbed an ice cube across her chest and neck, cool droplets mixing with the sweat that rolled over her. The coolness was only momentary since the droplets sunk into her hot skin that thrummed, the werewolf effect she called it. The front door opened and closed with a slight slam. Her heartbeat picked up instantly. Her roommate was home.

She was regretting letting him move in now more than ever even though it was a smart, yet inevitable move since she couldn't take care of this place all on her own. It was Derek and Scott who had insisted upon it. So much had changed since he had moved into the house, the air was different between them, indescribable even. Around everyone, she could ignore the tension. Alone, there was no hope. The tension was thick of late, like the humidity.

She valued his friendship. He was always there when she couldn't bear to be alone with her thoughts. And yeah, they fought a lot lately, but if she were to go to anybody for serious help it would be him.

He stared at her differently recently. He'd taken advantage of her, and she stopped him, but when it was a little too late. That look that he gave way too often anymore, it was territorial kind of. Primal. It was wrong and unnerving. He needed to be looking at Allison like that, not her. Never her even though it provoked certain thoughts of her own.

Melanie couldn't deny that she liked being looked at that way. It sent her into a frenzy causing a deep hunger, if it could be called that. It left knots over her being that felt so tight they'd never come undone, leaving her in a strange place. A place of 'what if'.

If Allison wasn't with him…maybe she would be. That single thought always sent a delicious, inviting chill, and her imagination would get carried away picturing every way she would be with him and him with her as companions, or even lovers. She regretted the thought instantly with how she could make all of the pain she knew was there inside of him go away. Somehow all of these thoughts and…emotions were all his fault, Isaac's. That's what Peter had said. Isaac was a good actor in front of everyone else, but it was vividly clear to Melanie. It was all there on his sleeve, his wretched turmoil.

Melanie would never be with him, the tortured one. How could she fix him anyway when she herself was still so destroyed?

His frame was rigid when he came into the kitchen. He avoided looking directly at her or paying much attention to her presence. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink. Melanie's eyebrows quirked curiously, watching him gulp it all in one long breath. He was covered in as much sweat as she was. It seeped through his white t-shirt. Finishing the bottle, he tossed it in the sink. The plastic echoed as it clanged against the metal. The ice cube in Melanie's hand had completely melted. Only a few drops dripped from her fingertips. Her feverish hair stuck to the nape of her neck, shoulders and her arms.

He stared at her, his eyes lingering over her sweat sheened legs in her faded denim cutoff short shorts, the little bit of skin showing at her midriff, her breasts of which a single bead slid between, and how heavily she was breathing in and out from the humidity as well as because of him. Definitely because of him.

It was ridiculous not to think it was partially because of him. He couldn't deny it any more, not after the long ass explanation Deaton gave him. He could hear her heart thrumming in his ears like the blood in his veins and it only intensified his sex drive. She stared at him, but not in the way he wanted her to. She wasn't terrified, but she wasn't welcoming either.

"What's up?" she asked, looking away and at the sink. His jaw tightened. Just look at me, he thought aggressively.

Her voice was light, quivering only the slightest that he caught it, making his fingers twitch.

"I don't want to talk," he said coldly.

Melanie's eyes narrowed, confused by the sudden aggressiveness in his words, but it was quickly washed away. He crossed the little space between them and grabbed her around the waist. He yanked her against him while pushing her against the counter so she couldn't move and kissed her in unrelenting force, his teeth gnashing against hers for a second. He could already envision her saying his name upon those sweet lips, and they did taste sweet. Even as they mixed with the salty sweat in the air they were sweet.

Melanie tried to push him away, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, but it was no use. He was stronger than her. His werewolf half was intervening. She stopped fighting and caved in, kissing him back. In turn, her imagination took off into reality as she shivered beneath his blazing hold. Her heart raced faster and faster against his.

This is wrong, she thought, I can't do this.

His hand moved up along her back, his fingers spreading and digging into her skin, sending sparks from the touch throughout her body. He pressed her harder against the counter causing the wood to pinch her skin at her lower back. A growling from deep within his chest so demanding reverberated through her ears. She bit his lower lip in response, not willing to be submissive to such a force. Her insides twisted with a yearning that burned like red coals. This was new, aggressiveness like this. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, pulling it as this lip lock grew rougher.

She felt his hands move downward over her buttocks, his thumbs pressing into them underneath her shorts as he slumped to meet her height. She gasped as he lifted her from the floor and placed her on the countertop, her hands remaining at the nape of his neck and hair. Isaac moved down to her throat kissing and nipping at every part while his hands had found new places to skim and touch beneath her top. His fingers dug into her and she arched into every touch, relishing the feeling he imprinted on her. There would be plenty of bruises to hide later.

"Damn it, I need you," he breathed heavily.

She moaned at the sound of his voice and then gasped for more of his life. She needed him too. She didn't completely understand why, but she did and she wanted him right now. She kissed him, maneuvering his tongue with hers in a delicious tangle. She pulled at his shirt by the fistfuls wanting it gone. Parting for only a second, she pulled it off and tossed it aside. Isaac picked her up from the counter then, his bare chest pressed firmly against her. He only made it a few steps before setting her on the dining room table gently like she was snowflake that would melt from the heat.

Melanie laid flat on her back looking up at him out of breath; her hair fanned off to one side. Leaning over her, he pressed between her legs again knowing full well she wanted him there. She clenched his waist tightly with her thighs. He pushed her tank top up, kissing her skin as it was gradually exposed to him then removed it. Her breasts moved up and down fast underneath the black lace bra. That had to go too. He couldn't have every part of her if she was covered in damp fabric that was so easy to rip.

He grinded against her. Her mouth formed a small 'o' and her back arched up into him from the thrilling jolt. He did it again and unbuttoned her shorts. His hand slid inside of them and settled at her clit. She moaned the most heavenly sound he'd ever heard.

Her head felt hazy, and her body swam with delight from his burning touch.

He moved his fingers into her quickly and she cried out airily, reaching up over head to grab the edge of the table. She bit her lower lip. Every inch of her skin hummed. He moved them in and out relishing the pleasure on her face and her body's contortions. He felt made for this, to please her, to make her like this, all riled up and burning for him. He moved them again. She came over his fingers, her body tensing.

"Ah!" she breathed. Her head tipped back, staring at the ceiling.

He grabbed her slippery form around the waist and yanked her up the table some. Her eyes glazed over and her body trembled. She hadn't yet come down from the orgasm he'd given so easily. She touched his cheek then dropped her hand to his shoulder.

She didn't look away from him as he carried her upstairs to his room where she belonged, not across the hall. She knew that she could still walk away from this, say no and something might be salvageable, but she said nothing and kissed him instead.

Screw salvageable.

It was pitch black when they entered his bedroom. He set her on the bed. Coldness engulfed her with his sudden absence.

I should leave, she thought, looking around for anything recognizable or even visible. This is bad…I can't…I need him, she thought unable to compose a full sentence. Even her thoughts betrayed her.

Isaac closed the door. He could make out her silhouette as she sat there in the middle of his bed, her legs propped up as she leaned back on her arms, frozen, unsure of herself. He slid between her sleek, killer legs and pulled down her shorts along with her panties without a fight. She breathed out, stuttering as the hot air breached her bundled nerves. Where is he, she wondered.

Melanie jerked at the ethereal tough to her shoulders. Isaac was behind her now and unclasping her bra, seeking out every bare inch of her to explore her as if he had to know everything that made her tick, made her flush, made her sigh, moan, and scream. He kissed her shoulder.

"Isaac…" she breathed, her head throbbing as she felt his skin against hers.

Just like he thought. His name sounded heavenly on those lips. Her back pressing to his chest, he kissed her neck. Her head fell back onto his shoulder. He brushed her hair to one shoulder and turned her head to reach her lips, his hand on her throat and moving up along her jawline. His fingers tangled in her damp hair as he lowered her down onto the end of the bed carefully, not parting from her lips.

He settled over her, grasping her thigh suddenly, his muscles tightening in his arms and legs. Then she realized his lack of clothes, leaving nothing between them. This was happening. Here, in his room, he was going to ravage her completely.

"Oh god," she breathed, holding the back of his neck.

He hadn't entered her yet, but she could feel that he was very much in need of her, throbbing against her center. She met his glowing eyes – a sharp, intimidating yellow. Her hand slid lower and grabbed him at full length. Biting her lower lip, she encouraged him to her entrance.

He glided over her breasts, taking one into his hand, manipulating it and making her moan. Her knees rose as he thrusted into her suddenly while in the midst of the attention to her breasts, too impatient to wait to inch in slowly.

"Uhn.." she moaned loudly, "Isaac…don't.."

He paused. Don't.

"Don't stop…"

He thrust into her again, sending more jolts through her.

"More…." Her moans grew more high pitched and breathy.

He moved faster and harder forgetting that she wasn't like him, but she met him thrust for thrust.

She shoved him to the side suddenly, making her the dominant above him. She placed her hands on his chest where she could feel his erratic heartbeat and grinded into him. He held her hips as she moved against him bringing him to the brink of blissful destruction, the kind only the harbinger herself could bring. Her back arched as she flung her hair back and moved harder into him. The heat surrounding them whipped her making everything throb painfully, yet deliciously, making her fingers curl inward, piercing his skin.

Isaac watched her in control, her hair down her back with tendrils sticking to her wet skin and her eyes closed in the lustful endeavor. She was like a goddess, his goddess.

Seeing her bite her lower lip yet again, and then speak his name once more, he couldn't take it. He sat up, thrusting hard and took her face into his hands and kissed her, biting that lip hard. His mouth devoured hers causing more pangs to surge downward. His hands moved over her, not staying in one place for long.

Isaac's groans melded with hers.

"Ahh!" she gasped aloud, her nails leaving more moon marks in his skin.

She tossed her head back in the carnal thrall. He kissed her the hollow of her throat then fell back onto the bed exhausted, pulling her with him. She lay on top of him trying to regain her breath.

"Wow," he said, staring up at the ceiling as he ran his fingers through Melanie's hair.

Melanie closed her eyes fighting the sudden tears that watered and stuck to her lower lashes. As right as this had felt, feeling like he knew everything inside and out perfectly…it was wrong. Regret swam through Melanie instantly, making her stomach twist disgusted.

Having left early this morning to get breakfast with Cora, Melanie showed up at school as people shuffled to class. Cora said nothing, but the expression of worry and sympathy was enough.

"I feel ashamed. I don't even know how it happened-well I know how it happened, but…I'm so wretched and confused," Melanie said hoarsely.

Cora shook her head and shrugged. Nothing could reverse last night. Isaac's scent was strong on Melanie, mixed with the overwhelming smell of Tahitian body wash and Jasmine body spray.

"I don't know. I knew it was wrong, but it was as if I wanted nothing more. I had to because I needed it and—I don't know. I couldn't bear it, not touching him. Something is seriously wrong with me."

The one-sided conversation remained fresh in Melanie's mind. She had never heard of anything like this. She'd never felt this powerless over her emotions.

Melanie clutched the strap of her book bag as she walked toward Chemistry. Isaac stood at the end of the hall, his arm perch against the lockers as he leaned over Allison, his other hand tucked in his pocket. He grinned happily as Allison twirled one of her black curls around her finger. HE caressed her cheek andthen leaned in, kissing her. There was no sign of the animal from last night in him. Melanie turned, deciding to take the long way to class with him or maybe skip all together.

Isaac saw her disappear through the student rush as the bell rang. Kissing Allison deeply, she stared at him confused with her lips reddened and her cheeks flushing. He caressed her cheek, memorizing every feature as he had done dozens of times before.

"Are you okay?" she asked, clutching her books a little tighter.

"I'm fine. Didn't sleep well last night is all," Isaac replied.

Allison nodded, looking down at the floor.

"The nightmares aren't as bad. I'm okay."

"You say that, but I see the distant looks," she replied.

He kissed her one more time, but wasn't sure if he was assuring her or himself. After a sigh, they went separate ways. He hurried after Melanie. She wasn't too far ahead. The closer he got the more heady he felt, recalling last night's events.

"Mel!" he called.

She didn't stop or even falter in her step. His brows furrowed.

"Hey." He grabbed her by the shoulder, but she spun and shoved him, glaring hatefully. He winced, not from the blow to his chest, but the stare.

"Don't!" she spat darkly and thrust up her hands, saying or rather stuttering, "God—I am going to do you a huge favor. I am going to act like last night never happened, ever, just like I've done with everything else. I can't believe what we did and to Allison."

She turned to storm away. He stepped in her path quickly. His mouth hung agape as if to speak, but there was no sound, not even a squeak. She huffed and rolled her eyes, clenching her fists.

"No." It was harsh, as if he'd been stabbed.

The hurt look on his face changed instantly to anger, his cheeks flaring red. He grabbed her by the arms firmly, ignoring the kid who walked past them late for class.

"No," she repeated. "You can't have us both Isaac. It doesn't work that way."

She ripped free of his arms, nearly stumbling to the scuffed up floor. She looked away from him.

"I'm staying at Danny's tonight."

With that, she walked away, gulping to hide away the agony. Though it was faint, she sniffled.

She skipped out on the second half of the school day.

"This heat wave is driving everybody mad," Allison said as they all settled at the lunch table.

Nobody spoke. Isaac stared out the window. Stiles didn't look up from his tray. His knee bounced relentlessly beneath the table. Scott let out a long sigh. Mad. Mad didn't seem like the right word to use for this heat wave. Crazy seemed good though. Or insane possibly, or that it was making people schitzo. Mad was too easy of a word to describe this heat wave.

"Are you guys okay," she asked.

"Where's Lydia," Stiles asked, realizing that the strawberry blonde had yet to make a sadistic comment..

"Not sure," she replied.

Lydia stared up at the ceiling as Aiden kissed her neck. His hands remained at her waist. Lydia rolled her eyes. Was he really choosing now to be honorable. She pulled back from him.

"What?" he said with a blank look.

"Am I a nun?" she asked sharply with a frown.

"No," he replied.

"Then why are your hands on my waist?"

A cocky smirk spread across his lips and he lifted her and placed her on Coach's desk. He kissed her again; this kiss was more intense, making her squeal and giggle as they continued to make-out. They weren't hungry for lunch anyway.

They were late for their next classes, but didn't care. The heat wave hadn't broken yet. Lydia glanced around the room. Nobody was paying attention. Melanie wasn't even here and Isaac stared down at his desk angrily. Others doodled in their notebooks and stared off into space. Lydia set down her, letting gout a long sigh. She sat erect as she looked down at her notebook. She'd drawn that tree again.

She turned the page. The tree was on that page too. A same exact drawing. There were more on the next several pages, all the same. She slammed the notebook shut.

Danny pulled into the drive and saw Melanie sitting on the porch steps. Her hood was up and her hair shielded the majority of her features. Everything was hidden actually, like she'd sunk back into the old habit from when she'd first arrived in town.

"Hey," he said, meeting her at the steps.

She looked up at him. Her cheeks were red. She'd been crying.

"Everything alright," he asked.

"Would you care if I stayed here for a while," she asked.

"No, it's okay. You know how my parents feel about you."

Melanie let out a breath of relief, the hair in front of her floating. She stared at the spider web cracks in the sidewalk. Small sprigs of grass came up here and there.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"I don't know. Something's wrong though. I don't understand and nobody will tell me," she trailed off in small sobs. "But, I think I know somebody who will tell me if I 'push' him a little."

Melanie jumped up and made her way down the sidewalk to her car. The sky had greyed over.

"I'll go with," he said.

Melanie waved her hand.

"No, I'll be back soon."

"There's supposed to be an ugly storm tonight," he said.

"Yeah, right." she rolled her eyes. Storms didn't scare her. There were a lot of things in the world that were a lot scarier than a little rain.

Danny stood and watched her go, gravel spitting up behind her as she sped off in her Camaro. The sky grew darker and darker, but night wouldn't fall until about seven. The clouds were gearing up for heavy rain and lightning. It was going to get ugly.

Wind was whipping around, making the trees bend at unbelievable angles. Leaves came free of their branches and flew everywhere. The sky had turned a dark navy color. Melanie skidded to a stop outside the vet clinic, not caring that she occupied two parking spaces.

She got out. Her hair flew backward with rushing the wind, some of it clinging around her neck. She went inside. The lights flickered. Nobody was at the front desk. She walked to the back and found Deaton checking on a silver terrier. It looked at her, its nub of a tail wagging with excitement.

"Good evening, Melanie. I didn't expect you to come through that door," he said, not looking up from his patient.

"The others know something. Something you're not telling me. Derek knows, Peter knows, and so does Isaac and Cora. What is wrong with me," she asked.

"Wrong with you," he asked. He peered up at her.

The terrier whined, wanting her to give him attention. Deaton held him.

"You know!" she exclaimed.

"Melanie, there's nothing wrong with you. You're in perfect health. I think the heat is getting to you," he said.

He's good, she thought. Acting all calm and oblivious. His negligence was the tip off though. He was avoiding looking at her or acknowledge her physical presence.

"Fine. I'll go look for myself," she grounded out.

Spinning on her heel, she stormed out of the room and towards his main office. He called after her, but she didn't stop. Several papers were laid out on his desk. Books lined a shelf that lined the wall above it. The majority of them were medical textbooks. Three in the center, black with gold, faded butterflies. Melanie snatched them from the shelves. Turning to leave, Deaton stood in the doorway. His usual calm self hadn't been fazed. His arms were crossed over his chest.

"Melanie," he said. She ignored the effect he was trying to have on her. "Don't do this. Talk to Derek."

"Derek," she scoffed. "Derek."

She couldn't come up with the words that she wanted to with Derek. Thinking about him made her so mad. He'd been hiding whatever this was too. He'd been meaner than usual.

"I think all I need to know," she looked down at the books, "are in here."

She tucked them under her arm and left. Deaton sighed, not moving an inch to stop her. The bell tied to the front door rang from her exit. She was going to find out. If she accepted this fate with Isaac and decided to be his, they could extremely powerful together, but dangerous. She's human therefore fragile and easy to harm. It's just as dangerous if they're apart though. It was all up to her.

Melanie got back to Danny's. It was pouring outside. The rain felt good on her overheated skin. Her shoulders had a tint of red. Danny answered the door and the two of them retreated upstairs.

"What are those," he asked.

"Answers," she replied, plopping down on his bed. Her flip flops slid off and she crossed her legs.

"Answers to what?"

"I don't know yet."

She stared at the books. They was no author to any of them. Taking one, she opened it. It's title was long faded from the green cover and its pages had yellowed. Some were marked and had small notes in the margins. Stopping at the first marked page, she gasped, her voice quivering scared.

"This isn't real, is it?" She looked at Danny utterly petrified.

So there is the brand new chapter.