Epilogue

The wind whispered softly through the trees as Camila stood atop the hill overlooking Beacon Hills. The town below was quiet, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun. From this vantage point, she could see the familiar places that had been the backdrop to so many of her memories—the high school, the lacrosse field, the animal clinic, and even the distant ruins of the Hale property. Each carried a story, a piece of the journey that had brought her to this moment.

One Year Later

The anniversary of the final battle had come and gone, and life in Beacon Hills had begun to settle into a fragile normalcy. The pack still stayed close, their bond as unbreakable as ever, but the constant looming threat of darkness had finally given way to light.

Camila's life had transformed in ways she hadn't imagined. She'd taken over the Argent family's legacy in her own way—not as a hunter, but as someone who worked to protect both humans and supernatural beings alike. She had started helping Deaton at the clinic, learning more about the delicate balance between the two worlds. It felt right, like she was honoring both her sister's memory and her own path.

Scott stepped up beside her on the hill, his warm presence grounding her. He slipped his hand into hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, his voice soft.

Camila smiled, her eyes still on the horizon. "Just thinking about how far we've come. How much we've been through."

Scott nodded, his gaze following hers. "It's been a lot. But we made it. And we'll keep making it."

She turned to him, her chest tightening with affection. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"I do," he said, his eyes filled with quiet certainty. "Because we've got each other. And the pack. We're stronger together."

Camila leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Do you ever think about Allison?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"All the time," Scott admitted. "I think about what she'd say if she saw us now. About how much she'd love the person you've become."

Her throat tightened, but she nodded. "I think she'd be proud of us. Of all of us."

"She would," Scott said, his voice steady. "And I think she'd want you to know it's okay to be happy, Cami. You deserve that."

Camila looked up at him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. "You make me happy, Scott. You really do."

He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "And you make me happy, Cami. More than I ever thought I could be again."

The rest of the pack joined them at the hilltop a short while later. Stiles arrived last, his usual nervous energy tempered by the easy camaraderie that came with time and healing. He stood beside Lydia, who had become his partner in all things, their connection as strong as ever.

The group gathered in a circle, laughing and sharing stories of everything they'd been through. Derek offered his usual stoic commentary, while Lydia chimed in with her sharp wit. Stiles, of course, kept everyone laughing with his endless sarcasm.

As the sun dipped lower, casting the hill in a golden glow, Camila looked around at her family. The pack. They were all still here, still standing, still fighting for the lives they wanted to build. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of peace—a deep, abiding certainty that they would be okay.

That night, Camila and Scott sat together on the porch of his house, wrapped in a blanket as the stars sparkled above them. The quiet was soothing, a reminder of how far they had come.

"What do you think the future looks like?" Camila asked, her head resting on Scott's shoulder.

"Whatever we want it to," Scott said, his voice steady. "We've got time to figure it out. Together."

She smiled, her heart full. "Together."

As the night stretched on, the world seemed to settle around them, the weight of the past giving way to the promise of the future. And for the first time, Camila felt like she wasn't just surviving—she was truly living.

The End.