The sun rose over Beacon Hills, casting a soft golden light over the McCall house. Lila stirred awake on the couch, her head resting on Stiles' shoulder. His arm was draped loosely around her, and the steady rise and fall of his chest was a soothing reminder that he was truly back.

For a moment, everything felt normal. No Ghost Riders, no train stations, no fear of losing him again. Just the quiet peace of a morning that didn't feel rushed or chaotic.

Stiles blinked awake, his gaze immediately landing on her. "Morning," he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

"Morning," Lila replied, her lips curving into a small smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a train. Figuratively and literally," he quipped, earning a soft laugh from her.

"You scared me," she admitted, her voice quieter. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You didn't," he said, squeezing her hand. "You brought me back. I'm here because of you."

The Pack Regroups

Later that morning, the pack gathered at the Stilinski house to debrief and figure out what came next. Sheriff Stilinski had taken the day off to spend time with his son, though he hovered nearby, listening intently as the pack talked.

"We need to figure out if the Ghost Riders are really gone," Scott said, his tone serious. "Just because Stiles is back doesn't mean their threat is over."

"They could still have ties to the Nemeton," Lydia added, flipping through her notebook. "The energy around it hasn't fully settled. We might have stopped them, but that doesn't mean they're gone for good."

Stiles raised a hand, looking pointedly at Scott. "Not to be the guy who states the obvious, but if they do come back, how do we stop them? It's not like we have a magic bullet for Ghost Riders."

"We use what we've learned," Scott said. "We know they rely on fear and memory to erase people. If we can disrupt that, we might be able to fight them more effectively."

Malia crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "Disrupt fear? That's a tall order, even for us."

Lila looked up, her voice quiet but firm. "We have each other. That's how we fight them. That's how we've always fought everything."

The room went silent for a moment, her words sinking in. Stiles reached over, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"She's right," Scott said, nodding. "We're stronger together."

A Quiet Moment

As the pack dispersed to take care of personal tasks, Stiles and Lila found themselves alone in the Stilinski kitchen. Lila leaned against the counter, watching as Stiles rummaged through the fridge.

"Do you ever stop eating?" she teased, crossing her arms.

"Not when I've been starving in limbo for three weeks," he shot back, grabbing a leftover slice of pizza and taking a bite. "Gotta rebuild my strength."

She laughed, shaking her head. But her smile faded as she watched him, the weight of everything they'd been through settling heavily on her.

"Hey," he said softly, setting the pizza down and stepping closer to her. "What's wrong?"

"I just… I can't stop thinking about how close we came to losing you," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I don't know what I'd do if it had been permanent."

Stiles placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze steady. "But it wasn't. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere, Lila. Not ever."

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she let him pull her into a hug. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and for the first time in weeks, she felt truly safe.

A New Threat?

That night, as the pack settled into what they hoped was the beginning of normalcy, Lydia sat at her desk, poring over her notes. Her banshee instincts were quiet for now, but something about the Nemeton's energy still nagged at her. It felt unfinished.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up to see a message from Deaton:

The Nemeton's balance is still unstable. There may be consequences. Be vigilant.

Lydia frowned, her grip tightening on the phone. The Ghost Riders might be gone, but Beacon Hills was never quiet for long.

And whatever was coming next, they'd need to be ready.

The Stilinski house was unusually quiet, but the tension was palpable. Stiles sat at the kitchen table with Lila, the two of them going over Lydia's notes on the Nemeton and the latest supernatural anomalies happening in Beacon Hills. The events of the past few weeks still lingered in the air, and though Stiles was safe, it felt like the calm before another storm.

Scott burst through the front door, his expression urgent. "We've got a problem."

"What now?" Stiles asked, standing up. "Please don't say it's another supernatural limbo. I just got out of the last one."

Scott shook his head, though his tone was no less serious. "It's worse. People are starting to act… strange. Deaton thinks it's connected to the Nemeton."

Lila frowned, standing as well. "Strange how?"

Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They're becoming violent, but it's not random. It's like they're being controlled—or influenced—by something."

"Like the Ghost Riders?" Lila asked, her heart sinking.

"No," Scott said firmly. "This is different. It's older. Deaton thinks it might be the Wild Hunt's magic lingering in the area. The Nemeton's energy hasn't stabilized, and it's messing with people."

Investigation at the School

The pack reconvened at Beacon Hills High, where several students had been reported acting out of character. Fights had broken out, teachers had been injured, and the school's principal had locked himself in his office, refusing to come out.

Lydia met them at the entrance, her face pale but resolute. "I've been trying to sense what's going on, but it's hard to pin down. It's like there's a shadow over the entire school."

"Great," Stiles muttered, holding his bat tightly. "We just fixed the Ghost Rider problem, and now the Nemeton decides to give us a sequel."

Malia sniffed the air, her eyes narrowing. "It smells wrong in there. Like something rotting."

"Then let's figure out what it is," Scott said, leading the way inside.

Chaos in the Hallways

The scene inside the school was worse than they'd expected. Students wandered the halls with vacant expressions, their movements jerky and unnatural. Others huddled in corners, muttering to themselves or staring blankly at the walls.

"It's like they're possessed," Lila whispered, the hum in her head returning faintly.

"Not possessed," Lydia corrected, her voice tight. "But something's definitely influencing them."

As they moved deeper into the building, a group of students suddenly turned toward them, their eyes glowing faintly. Without warning, they charged.

"Here we go!" Stiles shouted, swinging his bat as Scott shifted into his alpha form, his roar echoing through the halls.

Malia and Liam joined the fight, their claws flashing as they tried to subdue the students without seriously hurting them. Lila and Lydia stayed back, using their banshee abilities to sense the source of the disturbance.

"It's coming from the east wing," Lydia said, grabbing Lila's arm. "We have to get there now."

The Nemeton's Influence

In the east wing, they found the source of the chaos: a faint, glowing aura pulsing from a crack in the floor. The hum in Lila's head grew louder as they approached, the energy emanating from the crack making her feel lightheaded.

"It's a fracture in the Nemeton's influence," Lydia said, her voice strained. "The energy is leaking out, and it's amplifying negative emotions. It's driving people mad."

"How do we stop it?" Lila asked, her hands trembling.

"We have to close the fracture," Lydia said. "But it's going to take all of us."

Scott and the others arrived just as Lydia began to hum, her banshee energy resonating through the room. Lila joined her, the hum in her head syncing with Lydia's as they focused on the crack.

"Scott!" Lydia shouted. "We need your alpha power to stabilize it!"

Scott placed his hands on the floor near the crack, his alpha glow intensifying. The energy in the room pulsed wildly, but Scott's roar cut through the chaos, grounding everyone.

The fracture began to shrink, the glow fading as the energy was absorbed back into the Nemeton's connection. When it finally closed, the room fell silent.

Aftermath

The students who had been affected slowly returned to normal, their vacant expressions fading as they looked around in confusion. The pack regrouped in the school's parking lot, exhaustion written across their faces.

"That was too close," Malia said, leaning against the Jeep. "The Nemeton's still unstable. What happens next time?"

"There won't be a next time," Scott said firmly. "We'll figure out how to stabilize it before this happens again."

Lila leaned against Stiles, her head resting on his shoulder. "I can still feel it. The Nemeton isn't done with us."

"We'll deal with it," Stiles said, his arm wrapping around her. "One crazy supernatural problem at a time."

Lydia nodded, her expression determined. "We have to. The Nemeton's not just a beacon—it's a bomb waiting to go off."

As the pack prepared to leave, Lila looked back at the school, her grip tightening on Stiles' hand. Whatever was coming, she knew they'd face it together.

Because that's what they always did.

The Beacon Hills Preserve was unusually quiet as the pack walked toward a secluded cabin hidden deep within the woods. The air was heavy with tension as Scott explained the situation to the group.

"Deaton got word that several supernatural refugees are hiding out here," Scott said, glancing back at the pack. "They're scared, and they don't trust anyone."

"Supernatural refugees?" Lila asked, her brow furrowing. "Where are they coming from?"

"Everywhere," Lydia replied. "With the Ghost Riders gone, there's been a ripple effect. Supernatural creatures are being hunted in other areas, and Beacon Hills has become a safe haven because of the Nemeton."

"So we're babysitting?" Malia asked, her claws flexing instinctively. "What if they don't want our help?"

"They might not," Scott admitted. "But if they're here, it means they don't have anywhere else to go. We have to at least try."

Stiles sighed, holding his bat over his shoulder. "Great. More people to save. Because we don't already have a full plate."

Lila shot him a look, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "You know you'd hate it if things were boring."

"Touché," he muttered, earning a chuckle from her.

The Cabin

The cabin came into view, its windows dark and its door slightly ajar. Scott raised a hand, signaling for everyone to stay alert. The pack moved cautiously, their senses heightened.

Lydia placed a hand on Lila's arm, her banshee instincts on edge. "Can you feel it?"

Lila nodded, the hum in her head faint but present. "There's definitely someone here."

Scott stepped forward, knocking lightly on the door. "We're here to help. My name is Scott McCall. We just want to talk."

For a moment, there was no response. Then, the door creaked open, and a woman with bright yellow eyes stepped out. She was gaunt, her clothes tattered, and her expression wary.

"You're an alpha," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "Why are you here?"

Scott held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "We heard you needed help. We're not here to hurt you."

Behind her, more figures emerged—three in total. A teenage boy with glowing blue eyes, a man with a scar running down his face, and a woman clutching a small child. They all looked exhausted and scared.

"We've been running for weeks," the scarred man said. "Hunters are everywhere. They're more organized than we've ever seen."

"Hunters?" Malia asked, stepping forward. "Like Gerard Argent-type hunters?"

The woman with the child nodded. "Worse. They don't care who they hurt. As long as they think you're supernatural, you're a target."

Inside the Cabin

The pack and the refugees moved inside, the atmosphere tense but calmer now that introductions had been made. Scott listened carefully as the scarred man, who introduced himself as Elias, explained their situation.

"They came for us in the middle of the night," Elias said. "Our pack was small, just trying to survive. But they didn't care. They killed anyone who fought back and burned everything else."

"Why come to Beacon Hills?" Lydia asked. "It's not exactly a safe haven."

"The Nemeton," the teenage boy said, his voice quiet. "It called to us. We didn't know what else to do."

Scott exchanged a glance with Lila. "The Nemeton's energy isn't just attracting supernatural beings—it's drawing them here for safety."

"But it's also a beacon for hunters," Derek said, his tone grim. "If they find out these people are here, they'll come."

"Then we make sure they don't," Scott said firmly. "We protect them."

The Hunters' Arrival

As night fell, the pack took turns keeping watch around the cabin. Lila and Stiles sat together on the porch, their eyes scanning the dark forest for any signs of movement.

"You okay?" Stiles asked, his voice soft.

"Not really," Lila admitted. "These people have been through so much. And now, they're depending on us."

"We've faced worse," Stiles said with a grin. "Remember the Nogitsune? The Beast? The Ghost Riders? We're basically experts at impossible situations."

She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Thanks for that, Stilinski."

Before he could respond, a faint rustling in the woods caught their attention. Lila straightened, her heart racing. "Do you hear that?"

Stiles gripped his bat, his expression serious. "Yeah. We've got company."

Moments later, headlights pierced through the trees, and the sound of boots crunching against the ground echoed in the air. Hunters.

Scott, Malia, and Derek appeared beside them, their eyes glowing in the darkness.

"They found us," Derek growled, his claws extending.

Scott stepped forward, his alpha presence radiating calm authority. "We don't want to fight, but we will if we have to."

The leader of the hunters, a woman with cold, calculating eyes, stepped into the light. "We're not here to negotiate. Hand them over, or we'll take them by force."

"That's not happening," Scott said, his voice firm.

The standoff was tense, the air charged with the promise of violence. Lila felt the hum in her head spike, her banshee instincts warning her of danger.

And then, all hell broke loose.

The Fight

The hunters attacked first, their weapons blazing. Scott and Derek met them head-on, their claws slashing through the chaos. Malia took down two hunters with ease, her ferocity unmatched.

Lila and Lydia stayed close to the refugees, their combined banshee energy creating a shield of sound that disoriented the attackers. Stiles used his bat to fend off anyone who got too close, his movements quick and precise.

"We have to end this!" Scott shouted, his alpha roar echoing through the forest.

Lydia nodded, her voice steady. "Lila, focus on the hum. Use it to find their leader."

Lila closed her eyes, the buzzing in her head sharpening into clarity. She turned toward the hunter leader, who was aiming a crossbow at Scott. Without thinking, Lila let out a piercing banshee scream, the sound hitting the leader like a shockwave and knocking her weapon from her hands.

The remaining hunters hesitated, their confidence wavering.

"Leave," Scott commanded, his voice strong. "And don't come back."

The hunters retreated, dragging their injured with them. The pack watched as they disappeared into the darkness, the tension finally easing.

Aftermath

Back in the cabin, the refugees expressed their gratitude, though their fear hadn't completely faded.

"You're safe now," Scott assured them. "We'll make sure of it."

Lila sat beside Stiles, her body exhausted but her heart steady. "Do you think it's over?"

"For now," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "But we'll be ready for whatever comes next."

As the pack regrouped and made plans to protect the Nemeton, Lila felt a surge of hope. They had faced the odds and won. And as long as they stood together, nothing could break them.