The Beacon Hills Preserve was dark, the trees casting long shadows under the moonlight. The air was thick with tension as Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Camila moved quietly through the woods, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Derek had sent word of strange activity in the area—a howl that didn't belong to his pack.

Camila stayed close to Stiles, her fingers brushing against his arm every so often. She wasn't sure if it was for his comfort or her own, but his presence was steady, grounding.

"I'm just saying," Stiles whispered, his voice barely audible over the crunch of leaves beneath their feet, "why do the bad guys always hang out in creepy forests? Can't we fight them in, like, a Starbucks or something?"

"Shh," Scott hissed, his amber eyes glowing faintly as he scanned the area.

Lydia stopped suddenly, her hand shooting out to grab Camila's arm. Her eyes widened, unfocused, as if she were listening to something no one else could hear.

"They're close," Lydia murmured, her voice distant. "And they're angry."

Camila felt a chill run down her spine. "Who's angry?"

Before Lydia could answer, a deafening roar echoed through the woods. The group froze, their flashlights darting toward the source of the sound. A figure emerged from the shadows, its red eyes glowing menacingly.

An Alpha.

The fight erupted almost instantly. Scott lunged forward, shifting into his werewolf form as the Alpha charged. Stiles grabbed Camila's arm, pulling her back toward the safety of a nearby tree.

"We are not built for this!" Stiles yelled as he shoved Camila behind him.

"Stiles, what are you doing?!" she exclaimed, panic lacing her voice.

"Being stupid, apparently," he muttered, his eyes darting between the fight and her.

Scott and the Alpha clashed in the clearing, claws slashing and growls filling the air. Lydia stood off to the side, her hands pressed to her temples as she tried to focus through the chaos.

"They're not alone!" Lydia screamed suddenly.

Camila's heart sank as two more Alphas emerged from the shadows, their red eyes locking onto the group.

"We're so dead," Stiles muttered, grabbing a nearby branch as if it would somehow save them.

One of the Alphas lunged toward Camila, its claws glinting in the moonlight. Instinctively, she ducked, narrowly avoiding its attack. She scrambled backward, her heart racing as the Alpha closed in.

"Cami!" Stiles shouted, throwing the branch with surprising accuracy. It smacked the Alpha across the face, momentarily stunning it.

Scott tackled the second Alpha, his growls growing more feral as he fought to protect his friends. Camila scrambled to her feet, her hunter training kicking in as she grabbed a knife from her boot and faced the first Alpha.

"You picked the wrong girl to mess with," she muttered, her voice steadier than she felt.

The Alpha lunged again, but this time, Camila was ready. She sidestepped its attack, slashing at its side with her knife. The creature howled in pain, retreating slightly.

"Nice move!" Stiles called, his voice tinged with both pride and terror.

The battle raged on, the group barely holding their ground against the relentless Alphas. Just as it seemed they were outnumbered, a piercing howl echoed through the woods.

Derek.

The Alphas hesitated, their red eyes flickering with uncertainty as Derek and his pack appeared, flanking Scott. The sight of more werewolves seemed to tip the balance, and the Alphas retreated into the shadows, their growls fading into the night.

The aftermath was quiet, the only sounds coming from the group's heavy breathing. Camila leaned against a tree, her knife still clutched tightly in her hand.

"You okay?" Stiles asked, rushing over to her.

She nodded, though her legs felt like jelly. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

"Don't mention it," he said, his smile small but genuine. "Really. Don't. I don't think my ego can take it."

She let out a shaky laugh, her heart still racing.

Scott approached, his eyes back to their usual brown. "They're testing us," he said, his voice grim. "They're trying to see what we're capable of."

"They already know what you're capable of," Derek said, his tone sharp as he stepped into the clearing. "They're looking for weaknesses in your pack."

Scott's jaw tightened, and he glanced at Camila. "Then we can't give them any."

Later that night, back at the Argent house, Camila sat on the porch steps, the cool air helping to calm her nerves. Stiles joined her, dropping down beside her with a sigh.

"That was fun," he said sarcastically, rubbing the back of his neck. "We should do that more often."

She smiled faintly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Thanks for saving me out there."

He shrugged, though his cheeks flushed slightly. "What else was I going to do? Let some giant werewolf turn you into a chew toy? Not a chance."

Camila turned to him, her expression soft. "You're always there, Stiles. I don't think I tell you enough how much that means to me."

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet. "I'll always be there, Cami. You know that, right?"

She nodded, her chest tightening. "I do."

Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was brief but filled with everything she couldn't put into words.

When they pulled back, Stiles' eyes were wide, his breath hitching. "Wow," he whispered. "Not that I'm complaining, but… wow."

Camila laughed softly, her cheeks warming. "You're kind of my hero, you know."

"Yeah, well," he said, his grin returning. "Don't spread that around. I've got a reputation to maintain."

She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder as they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the night momentarily forgotten.