The days following the confrontation at the pool were a blur. Camila had barely spoken to anyone, her thoughts consumed by the mounting threats in Beacon Hills and her own fractured emotions. The Alpha pack was still out there, and the group's unity felt more tenuous than ever.
It was late afternoon when she finally ventured to the Stilinski house. She hadn't planned it—her feet had simply carried her there, her mind replaying every moment of the past few weeks. The kiss with Stiles. The fight with the Alpha. The way Scott had looked at her, his concern etched so deeply it felt like a weight pressing on her chest.
She stood on the porch, hesitating. Stiles' Jeep was parked in the driveway, a testament to his presence inside, but for a moment, she considered turning back. The conversation she needed to have with him felt too heavy, too complicated. But she couldn't keep running.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked.
Stiles opened the door almost immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious warmth. "Cami," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Hey."
"Hey," she replied softly, slipping past him into the familiar space. The house was quiet, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. She glanced around, her hands fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. "Is your dad home?"
"He's working late," Stiles said, shutting the door behind her. "It's just me."
Camila nodded, her heart pounding. She turned to face him, finding his brown eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern. "I… I wanted to talk."
"Yeah?" he asked, his voice careful. "About what?"
"About us," she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
Stiles froze, his expression flickering. "Oh." He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit she knew all too well. "Okay. Talk to me."
She took a step closer, her arms wrapping around herself as though to shield against the vulnerability threatening to overwhelm her. "Stiles, I… I don't know how to do this. Everything feels so messy right now."
His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, studying her. "Messy how?"
"Messy like… I care about you. So much. But then there's Scott, and everything we've been through, and Allison, and I just…" Her voice broke, and she looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Stiles let out a slow breath, his hands dropping to his sides. "Cami, you're not going to hurt anyone by being honest about how you feel. But you've got to figure it out, because this…" He gestured between them. "I need to know if this is real, or if I'm just the guy you turn to because everything else feels like it's falling apart."
His words stung, but she couldn't deny the truth in them. She met his gaze, tears pricking at her eyes. "It is real, Stiles. I promise you, it is. But I'm scared. I'm scared that if I let myself have this—have us—I'll lose everything else."
"You won't," he said firmly, stepping closer. His hands found hers, his touch grounding her. "You won't lose anything, Cami. Not Scott, not Allison. You're stronger than you think. And whatever's going on with Scott… I get it. He's Scott. He's the hero. But that doesn't mean he's the one you have to turn to."
She looked up at him, her breath catching at the raw emotion in his eyes. "Stiles, I don't deserve you."
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You deserve someone who sees you. All of you. And I think you already know that's me."
Her chest tightened, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm sorry I've been so unfair to you."
"You haven't," he said softly, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "You're just figuring things out. And I'll be here, Cami. As long as you need me."
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket. The sharp sound shattered the moment, and she reluctantly pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
It was Scott.
Scott: Lydia's hearing things again. Meet us at the school. It's urgent.
She let out a shaky breath, showing the message to Stiles. He read it, his expression shifting to one of concern.
"Duty calls," he said, his voice resigned but understanding.
Camila nodded, tucking the phone away. "Yeah."
They stood there for a moment longer, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Then, without thinking, she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Stiles. For everything."
His cheeks flushed, but he nodded. "Go. I'll meet you there."
The school was eerily quiet when Camila arrived, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows in the empty hallways. She found Scott, Allison, and Lydia in the library, their faces tense.
"Lydia's hearing whispers," Scott explained as soon as Camila walked in. "She thinks it's the Alpha pack."
Camila turned to Lydia, her friend's usually sharp eyes now clouded with fear. "What kind of whispers?"
"They're calling my name," Lydia said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Like they're trying to pull me somewhere."
Camila's stomach twisted. "Do you know where?"
Lydia shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "No. But it's close."
Scott clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "Then we need to find out what they want. And stop them before it's too late."
Camila nodded, her determination hardening. Whatever was coming, she knew they had to face it together. But as her gaze flickered to Scott, her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid between them.
And in that moment, she realized just how much was at stake—not just for Lydia, but for all of them.