8. I still dream about the skull.

Even with the sun hidden behind gray clouds, the ocean shone like an enormous dark sapphire. The blue-gray water of the Pacific would have reflected his face if it hadn't been in constant motion. Every once in a while, a wave would crest just enough to create an edge of foam. Scott counted the whitecaps from his position in the bow of the boat.

Their launch rose and fell as they plowed through the water toward Ozette Island. Of all the new places he had gone in the last five years, this was strangely enough his first time being on the ocean. For a moment earlier that morning, Scott had worried he might get seasick, but he had quickly gotten used to the movement. It was a small blessing; he didn't want to arrive at this meeting with a green complexion.

Ethan steered the small flatboat that they had rented in Hoquiam; unlike Scott, he had been sailing before. The boat looked far too small and fragile to be out on the open ocean, but Ethan had assured him it would be safe enough for this trip. It wouldn't draw attention; people used boats just like it to fish all the time.

The morning wasn't chilly, though the overcast weather was still cool for Memorial Day Weekend. Scott decided he might try to come back here to the Flattery Rocks National Wildlife Preserve in the future, so he could focus on enjoying it. No matter how breathtaking the scenery was, today wouldn't be much fun. Ethan and he were here on business.

Ethan steered the boat towards a shallow rocky cove. "Isn't there a dock somewhere on the island?" "Yeah. We won't need it."

True enough, the boat glided up to the shore with no problem. Scott and Ethan jumped out and then pulled it up onto the sandy beach. Sea birds squawked at them, angry at the intrusion, before taking wing. As they scattered, he identified plovers, oystercatchers and sandpipers.

If he had still been in high school, he probably would have quizzed Ethan on why this particular alpha would want to meet him on an island off the coast where no one lived and which was so difficult to get to. But he was no longer young and inexperienced; now he understood the benefits of meeting somewhere where it would be difficult to arrange a successful ambush while also being a place where the meeting was unlikely to get interrupted.

Scott looked around the beach. "Where to now?" "I've got their scent."

Of all the werewolves he had met, Ethan was by far the best tracker. Without hesitation, the beta headed off into the underbrush, and Scott followed along dutifully. It didn't take long to reach their destination; the island wasn't that big. An observation deck had been built to allow people some comfort while watching the sea birds and the Washington coastline.

Four members of the Carter Pack waited for them there. Silas Carter, the alpha, moved to stand in front of the other three. With his long white hair and full beard, he looked like he had stepped out of a Hollywood Western. Behind him and to the left was someone who could have easily been the

early-twenties version of the alpha; it was probably Jacob Carter, his son and heir. The other two were a tall, thin black man whose face turned immediately hostile when Scott and Ethan stepped from the bushes, and a very slight woman, probably of mixed indigenous and Caucasian ancestry, whose scent went very sour.

"You must be Scott McCall." Silas Carter's voice was as rough as a log cut by a stone axe.

"Thanks for meeting us." Scott would err on the side of politeness for this; a lot was riding on it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ethan swallow as the only concession to his anxiety.

"I didn't have much choice, did I?"

Scott blinked. "I hope I didn't give you that impression. It seemed wiser to give you the chance to meet in person and talk these things out peacefully."

"You're expecting this to be peaceful?"

That wasn't a good sign, though Carter hadn't delivered it as a threat but more as an observation.

"I don't want any violence, because I don't think it's necessary, which is why I'm a little concerned that you brought so many betas with you."

Silas glanced over his shoulder. "This is a problem?"

"My Emissary told me that you agreed that we'd have equal numbers for this."

"Ah, the agreement, as I understood it, was for equal forces."

Scott looked pointedly at the three werewolves backing Silas Carter up.

The alpha laughed in disbelief. "These are my betas, but Jacob here has never been a real fight in his life. Ellie and Trajan, on the other hand, have only been in one. Ethan can tell you all about it."

The last sentence was delivered with a certain bitterness. Scott grew more and more uncomfortable. He purposefully stretched his fingers so he wouldn't clench his fist in disappointment. "I suppose it's okay. Though if you were worried about being over-matched, maybe you should have brought someone more experienced."

The alpha scowled at him. "Do you think I have someone like that? Do you think that I get involved in things like this every month? I don't face situations like this once a decade. Kid, the Hales really did a number on you."

Looking around in disbelief, Scott didn't know what to make of that statement. He didn't understand.

"You really think that the lives of werewolves are always filled with violence and terror?" Jacob shook his head slightly. "Stable packs rarely have anywhere near the amount of trouble that you've experienced. Omegas aren't common, and they're the ones who cause half the problems for the packs, because they don't have anyone to look out after them. Overzealous hunters who ignore their Code, like your Monroe, cause the other half of the problems. By the way, no matter the outcome of what happens today, I want you to know I appreciate the work you've been doing trying to stop her."

"Uh, thank you." Scott rolled his shoulders, feeling out-maneuvered. "That's the very reason Ethan and I asked you to come here today. He wants to move back to Beacon Hills with his partner,

Jackson Whittemore, in order to help me stabilize things. However, he also wanted to put some things from the past to rest first."

Trajan, one of the betas, growled, his eyes flashing yellow angrily. Silas didn't do anything but turn his head in Trajan's direction and the beta subsided.

"I just bet he does." Alpha Carter replied archly.

Stiles had told him it would be too much to hope for that this could be resolved without dragging everything into the air.

Ethan had remained stoic about the possibilities since he had first discussed this with Scott. Worse, he had been confident that this entire meeting would be a waste of time, but he had insisted that Scott arrange it anyway. Scott had been hopeful; he still was. Anger was to be expected, but that didn't preclude reasoning things out.

"He's told me what the Alpha Pack did to the pack that used to live near here. They were your allies."

The alpha crossed his arms. "Allies. You make it sound like a political arrangement. Her name was Phoebe. Ellen and Trajan could tell you she was a pretty good alpha, if they have to."

Scott looked sharply at Ethan, but it was obvious that he had already recognized them.

"To me, Phoebe was a friend. She played a mean game of pool, she ruined a joke telling it, and her barbecue was literally the best I ever tasted. I'm the godfather of her son, did you know that?"

"You don't have to do this," Ethan said quietly. "I'm not denying what I helped do. I'm not denying who she was."

"I didn't bring them to prove to Mr. McCall what you did. I brought them here because they deserve to be here. I may have given them a new pack, but that can't really replace what they lost. What you took from them. No one can."

Silas words weren't helping the situation in any way. Scott didn't need to scent the chemo signals; he could see the rage in their eyes.

"Maybe ... we should sit down."

Ellie spoke up and the venom in her voice was palpable. "No one wants to sit down with him."

"Look. Silas ... can I call you Silas?"

"If you're claiming this man as part of your pack, I think we should remain on more formal terms, Alpha McCall."

Scott blew air out through his lips. "Look, Alpha Carter. You said that no one can replace what the Alpha Pack took from them. You are absolutely right. Nothing can undo what was done. Deucalion's madness hurt you. It hurt Trajan and Ellie. You may not believe and you may not care, but Deucalion's madness hurt Ethan as well."

"And yet you allied with the Demon Wolf. More than once." Jacob Carter snapped. "And yet you try to pretend that no one should hold that against you."

"I did not ally with the Demon Wolf for power. I gave Deucalion a second chance because it was

the right thing to do at the time. Hurting him more than he already had been hurt wouldn't fix what he had done. And I worked with him to stop a monstrous serial killer and that killer's accomplices but only because he was targeted by my enemies. I asked him to help me fight Monroe, and he refused because he was trying to become something better that what he had been. When I asked him to teach me how to fight without vision, he only agreed because it didn't require him to hurt anyone, and he still died for it. People are alive today because he changed. People are alive today because Ethan changed. I'm not the slightest bit ashamed I gave them the chance to do that."

"So, we're supposed to forget what he did?" Trajan's voice was so loud it echoed.

"No." Scott sighed. "Why do you think we came? We want to find a way to mend what happened."

"Alpha McCall, since I doubt you brought Ethan here to allow us to do as we wish, perhaps you should suggest what we could do instead."

"I didn't bring Ethan here; he brought me here. I came to make sure that we find a way to secure justice, not vengeance. What do you want the future to look like?"

He waited to see if they would answer. Silas Carter forehead wrinkled in confusion as he studied Scott. Jacob Carter studied the ground beneath his feet. Trajan and Ellie were fixed on Ethan, who endured their focus with as much composure as he could manage. Moments stretched into minutes. No one was willing to break it until Silas addressed Scott directly.

"The problem as I see it is that you're so young."

Scott frowned at that. "First you say that I've been exposed to violence too much and now you explain that I don't understand how violence affects people. Which is it?"

"Those aren't mutually exclusive. It's entirely possible that you've experienced so much bloodshed at such a young age that you can't possibly understand how other people normally react to it. I may not be as old as Satomi Ito was, but I have more than four decades on you. Young people often think the future is all that matters. While that belief can be powerful, they'll learn — everyone learns — that there is no future without a past to build it on. So what happened before matters."

"I'm not saying it doesn't—"

"But you are. Ethan helped Deucalion kill Phoebe. Hurting him won't bring her back, but she's still gone. Actions need to have consequences. People need to believe that's true in order to make the best decisions."

"How good can your decisions be if they're based on whether you are going to get punished or not?" Scott rubbed at his face. "Look, no one here is saying that Ethan didn't do anything wrong."

"Especially me," interrupted Ethan. "I know what I did."

"We're here to find a reasonable way to address what happened. No one expects a blanket amnesty."

Alpha Carter looked away wryly. "What?"

"I think, Alpha McCall, that's exactly what you expect. I've asked around, and you've never punished a single enemy in your entire life as a werewolf."

"I sent Peter Hale to Eichen House."

"No, you didn't. Eichen House may have been a nightmarish shit hole, but it was still somehow licensed by the state. You were seventeen years old and unrelated to Hale. The only people who could have done that were a relative or an officer of the peace. So who really did it? Derek Hale or Noah Stilinski?"

Scott felt trapped. "It was Derek, but ..."

Silas Carter shook his head. "You already know what you have to do, but you were looking for another solution. When people came for you and your friends, there was another solution, but that solution doesn't exist for Trajan and Ellie. I told you that I brought these two here because they were her betas, so they could tell you what she meant to them. Did you listen?"

Scott closed his eyes. "I did." "Then you know how this ends."

"Of course." Scott opened his eyes, and they glowed red. "Ethan is under my protection, Alpha Carter. Any action taken against him will be considered action taken against my pack and responded to accordingly."

"Scott!" Ethan protested.

The other alpha didn't protest. In fact, he looked solemn. "We understand, Alpha McCall. You have a good trip back."

"Scott!" Ethan said again.

"Come on, Ethan." Scott turned and walked away.

Ethan looked between them and then followed, frustrated. Scott could sense it all the way back to the cover and the boat.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"It was the only way. Silas wanted me to take responsibility for what you've done."

Reaching out, Ethan snagged his arm. "I get that, and you shouldn't have done it. You didn't have anything to do with what happened. We did those things. I did those things. I should bear the consequences for it."

"You have. You fought for me. You suffered loss for that, just as they did. You've been tortured — you're dating Jackson, aren't you?"

"Stop trying to distract me with humor. You aren't Stilinski."

Scott licked his lips. "Okay. Then let me be honest. I agree with Alpha Carter. You can't change what you did. You can't get rid of it. It's going to be a part of you forever and nothing you ever do will make it up to the people you hurt unless they let you do it, and I don't think that many of them will want to do that."

"Then why'd you come here with me?"

"Because I don't think it has to be as important as he makes it out to be. We've all been tainted by something, and we all have to live with that. If trying to make amends is how you live with it, then

I'll be right beside you every time. Even if that means taking a risk."

Ethan studied him and smiled. "Some of us seem to have overcome that taint."

Scott opened his mouth to dispel the illusion, because it was obvious the blue-eyed werewolf was trying to imply that Scott was special. Stronger. Purer. He wanted to share with him that sometimes he dreamed of the skull Kate Argent had shoved over his head in Mexico. No one knew how much he sometimes relished the feeling he remembered; the utter peace of the spirit suppressing all the worry, all the pain, all the restraint.

But he stopped himself. This wasn't the time to smash Ethan's dream of leaving what he had done behind. He had overcome a terrible monstrous alpha plus servitude to Deucalion and then the death of his own twin to try to be a better person. Scott couldn't comprehend that last one; he shuddered to think of what would have happened if he had lost Stiles as Ethan had lost Aiden. All telling him now would do is discourage his quest.

"We'll see. Now let's go home."