The morning light cast a golden glow over Peter, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the soft curve of his lips. He looked peaceful, almost vulnerable, a stark contrast to the sharp, cunning man he was when awake. My gaze wandered over the planes of his chest and the faint scars that marked his skin, each one a story I hoped he'd tell me someday.

I let my fingers trail down his chest, tracing over the dips and ridges of muscle, marveling at how human he seemed in this quiet moment. How real. It was hard to believe that someone as intense and enigmatic as Peter could have a side like this—unshielded and open.

As if sensing my stare, his eyes fluttered open. The piercing blue that had once unnerved me now felt like home. His lips curled into a lazy, knowing smirk. "Enjoying the view, Little Wolf?" he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

I smiled, unbothered by his teasing. "I am," I admitted softly, letting my hand rest over his heart. "You're different when you sleep."

His brow arched slightly, intrigued. "Different how?"

I shrugged, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. "Softer. Not as guarded. It's... nice."

Peter's smirk softened into something else entirely—something warmer. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You have a way of seeing things others don't, Nova."

I leaned into his touch, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite name. "Maybe that's because I'm not afraid to look."

"You should be," he responded, "I'm terrifying." There was almost a sadness in his words. Subtle but I heard it.

I raised up, hovering over him eyes full of confidence as I straddled his hips, "You're not so scary, Peter."

Peter's hands instinctively moved to my thighs, his grip firm but gentle as his piercing blue eyes searched mine. The smirk he wore so often faltered, replaced by something deeper—something raw.

"You don't know me as well as you think, Little Wolf," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. "You should be afraid. Everyone else is."

I leaned closer, my hair falling around us like a curtain, and cupped his face in my hands. "Maybe they don't see what I see," I whispered, my lips a breath away from his. "You're not just the monster you want everyone to believe you are. I know you, Peter. The real you."

His jaw tightened under my touch, and for a moment, I thought he might argue, might push me away. But instead, he closed his eyes, leaning into my palm as though he couldn't help himself.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, his voice laced with both warning and surrender.

I tilted my head, a small, defiant smile curving my lips. "Maybe. But I'm not scared. Not of you."

"An innocent young woman falling for the villain," he murmured, his lips grazing mine. "What could possibly go wrong?" In one fluid motion, he shifted us, pinning me beneath him.

"And yet, here you are," I teased, my breath hitching as his weight pressed against me. "The villain falling for the innocent young woman."

Peter chuckled, low and dangerous, his lips hovering just above mine. "Who said I'm falling?" he challenged, though the heat in his eyes betrayed him.

I smirked, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Your actions speak louder than your words, Peter."

His lips captured mine, silencing any further teasing with a kiss that was both claiming and possessive. "Careful, Little Wolf," he murmured against my lips, his breath warm and intoxicating.

I smirked, meeting his gaze. "I'm stronger than I look," I shot back confidently.

"Good," he replied with a glint in his eye before pulling away and sliding off the bed. He extended a hand toward me, his voice light yet commanding. "Come on, let's get a shower, and then we can grab some breakfast."

—-

If the sight of Peter in a suit had stirred something in me last night, the sight of him naked this morning as he guided me into his bathroom did something else entirely. It was a new kind of awakening, one that left me breathless and captivated.

I had never given much thought to the concept of clothing before—to what humans chose to hide beneath it. In my world, my former world, there was no need for such concealment. It was natural, instinctive. But here, the act of revealing and being revealed held an intimacy I was only just beginning to understand.

"If you keep looking at me like that, Little Wolf," Peter smirked as he turned on the shower, the sound of water filling the space between us, "we might not make it to breakfast."

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, but I didn't look away. "I'm sorry," I said softly, my gaze unwavering. "I just like looking at you."

His smirk softened into something deeper, something that made my heart race. "You can look at me all you want," he said, stepping closer, the steam from the shower swirling around us. "Though it might just lead to trouble."

I wanted trouble, and Peter seemed to know it as he tugged me under the water with him. The warmth cascaded over us, steam curling around our bodies as if shielding us from the rest of the world.

His hands moved with purpose, lathered in soap, smoothing over my skin in slow, deliberate strokes. His touch wasn't rushed or rough—it was gentle, reverent, as though he were memorizing every curve of me with his fingertips. Each glide of his palms was accompanied by a soft massage, kneading away tension I didn't even realize I carried.

I closed my eyes, letting the sensations take over, the mix of water and Peter's touch grounding me in the moment. The way he cared for me, even in something as simple as this, was unlike anything I had ever known.

I took the soap in my hands, the silky lather slipping between my fingers as I began to move them over his body. My touch was soft, deliberate, each motion unhurried as I mapped the topography of his chest and abs with my fingertips.

The ridges of muscle under his skin felt like stone—solid and unyielding—but warmed beneath my palms. I let my hands roam, tracing every curve and plane, memorizing him the way he had memorized me moments ago.

He groaned softly, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as his body responded to my touch. I felt the subtle shift in his posture, the tension building beneath my fingertips as I continued my slow, deliberate exploration.

"Little Wolf," he said, his voice strained but laced with amusement, "you're making it very hard to focus on anything else right now."

I smirked, emboldened by his reaction, my hands lingering a little longer as I let my fingers trace the sharp lines of his hipbones. "Was there something else you needed to focus on?" I whispered, leaning in closer, letting the water cascade between us like a veil.

Peter's hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him, the heat between us mingling with the steam from the water. "Can't think of a thing," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver through me despite the warmth.

I tilted my head up, meeting his gaze, the intensity in his eyes making my heart race. "Good," I replied, my voice soft but confident, "because I don't plan on letting you."

A slow, wicked smile spread across his lips. "Little Wolf," he said, brushing his nose against mine, "you're going to be the death of me."

"Fortunate for me death doesn't keep you," I teased, my lips hovering just a breath away from his. My hand slid between us feeling his growing response.

His growl rumbled low in his chest, sending a delicious thrill through me. "You're going to be trouble, aren't you?"

I smirked, leaning in until our foreheads touched, the steam swirling around us like a cocoon. "Fortunate for me, trouble seems to be your favorite thing."

He groaned, his voice thick with restrained desire. "I suppose it is," he muttered, his hands gripping my hips, "but that thing you're doing with your hand is quickly moving to the top of the list."

I bit my lip, my fingers continuing their teasing exploration."Good to know," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the water cascading around us.

My hands continued their slow, deliberate movements, determined to give him as much pleasure as he'd given me. I watched his face closely, searching for every flicker of emotion—a tightening of his jaw, the hitch in his breath, the way his eyes darkened with every passing moment. I wanted to know if it was too much or not enough. His head falling back slightly as a low growl escaped his throat. His reaction sent a wave of confidence through me, and I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

His breathing grew ragged, and I could feel the tension building in his body, like a storm on the verge of breaking. His hands roamed my back, grounding himself in my presence, while his lips found mine in a desperate, consuming kiss.

As the kiss grew more heated, I felt him start to lose control. His grip on me tightened, and I could feel his hips pushing against me, urging me to go faster. But I didn't. I wanted him to savor this, to feel every second of it, so I held firm, maintaining the same rhythm that had brought him to the edge.

"Fuck," he growled as he released in white hot spurts over my stomach and hand. The suddenness of it caught me off guard, the heat of him hitting my skin like a brand. I felt a thrill of power and satisfaction at the raw, primal sound he made, the way his entire body tensed and shuddered with the force of his climax.

The warmth of the water began to fade, cooling against my skin, but the heat between us lingered. Peter smirked, his hands still resting possessively on my hips. "Having you around is dangerous, Little Wolf," he murmured, his voice laced with teasing, though his eyes held something deeper.

I tilted my head, matching his smirk. "Danger seems to follow you, Peter. Maybe I'm just keeping things interesting."

He chuckled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my temple. "Interesting might be an understatement."

As the last traces of warmth disappeared from the water, he reached over to turn it off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my shoulders before pulling me close again. "We should get dressed before we start another distraction."

"I know how you hate distractions," I smirked, following him back into the bedroom.

Peter shot me a knowing glance over his shoulder but didn't say a word as he moved toward the closet. I expected to rummage through his drawer for a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt—my usual makeshift attire whenever I stayed over.

But when I glanced toward the bed, I froze. A small bag, filled with my clothes, sat neatly beside it.

"How'd you know I'd stay here with you last night?" I asked, turning to him, curiosity lacing my tone.

Peter pulled on a pair of jeans, the fabric sliding into place effortlessly, then reached for a fresh shirt, tugging it over his head. His lips quirked into a smug smile as he adjusted the hem. "I just had a sneaking suspicion."

I arched an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. "A sneaking suspicion?"

He stepped closer, the teasing smirk still playing on his lips as he tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear. "Call it... experience. I know you better than you think, Little Wolf."

His words sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, but I refused to let him see how easily he affected me. "Cocky much?"

"Always," he said with a wink, brushing past me toward the door. "Now get dressed before I decide distractions aren't so bad after all."

I pulled on a pair of jeans from the bag—the ones Malia always said made my butt look good. Whatever that means. As I zipped them up and adjusted the waistband, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the memory of her unapologetic bluntness.

Reaching for the shirt, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The jeans fit snugly, hugging my curves in all the right places. Maybe Malia had a point. I tugged on the shirt, smoothing it down and taking a moment to study my reflection.

Peter's voice called from the other room, pulling me from my thoughts. "You decent yet, Little Wolf, or should I come back and help?"

I smirked, grabbing a hair tie from the bag and pulling my damp hair into a loose ponytail. "I think I've got it covered, thanks."

He appeared in the doorway anyway, leaning casually against the frame. His eyes swept over me, a slow, appreciative once-over that sent a wave of warmth up my neck.

"Not bad," he said, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. "Malia's got good taste."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at him. He caught it effortlessly, laughing as he straightened up.

"Come on," he said, tossing the pillow back onto the bed. "Let's get you fed before you start glaring at me like a feral wolf again."

I followed him out of the room, shaking my head but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. Peter Hale might be insufferable, but he had a way of making me feel like I belonged—and I wasn't ready to let go of that just yet.

—

I was quiet in the car on the way back into town, my thoughts a whirlwind. Every mile seemed to stretch the silence between us, and the weight of my questions grew heavier with each passing moment.

How would everything that had happened change what I had with him? Was I fooling myself, letting my desires blind me to the truth? Peter had always been intense, but was there something more beneath that? What did he really want from me?

Lydia's words echoed in my mind. "He can get into your head, Nova. He wants power. You've got power."

Was that the reason he'd pursued me so relentlessly? Was it my strength he craved more than me?

I glanced at him, his eyes focused on the road, the usual quiet confidence in his expression. But I could sense the weight of the things he wasn't saying, the things he was hiding. What did he know that I didn't? How deep did this rabbit hole go?

I felt the tug of something darker pulling at the edges of our connection—something that made me hesitate. I had let him in so easily, allowed him to control the pace, the tension between us. But now... now I wasn't sure if I could just give myself over to him without knowing if it was me he wanted, or just the power I held.

The questions clawed at me, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

"Peter," I finally spoke, my voice soft, unsure. "What is it you really want from me?"

His grip on the steering wheel tightened just slightly. The silence between us was palpable as the car sped on, but I wasn't sure if he was avoiding the question or if he simply didn't have an answer.

"I wondered when the doubt would come creeping in, Little Wolf," Peter's eyes stayed fixed on the road, his tone almost amused, though there was something darker beneath it. "I've got a reputation."

I bit my lip, feeling the weight of his words settle in the pit of my stomach. "What kind of reputation?"

He shifted slightly, his hand tightening on the wheel as though he was trying to keep control of something more than just the car. "The kind that makes people question my intentions. The kind that makes them think I'm after something… or someone. But you already know that, don't you?"

My pulse quickened, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the silence between us thick with unspoken truths. I wanted to push him, to ask the questions that burned in my mind, but I wasn't sure I was ready for the answers.

"Do you want me for my power, Peter?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, a mix of fear and curiosity lacing my voice. I turned to face him, watching the tension in his jaw.

He let out a low sigh, almost a growl, and for a moment, I thought he might ignore me. But then he spoke, his voice darker than before, like he was stepping into something more dangerous, something he had been avoiding. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted, the truth spilling from me before I could control it. "I trust you. Completely. But there's a small part that feels off. Like there's something you should be telling me."

The car sped on, but the words seemed to hang between us, heavy and unresolved. His gaze flickered to me briefly, but he didn't say anything. The silence only made my doubts grow louder.

"I didn't mean to make you doubt me," Peter's voice was soft now, almost pained, but there was still a coldness to it. "But I'm not the guy you want me to be, Little Wolf. I'm not… good. I'm not a hero. And maybe that's what scares you."

"I don't need a hero," I responded, "And I may be naive because I'm new to this human thing. But I'm not stupid. I don't need anyone to treat me like I'm going to break. Or that I can't handle things."

Peter's lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile, but his eyes remained cold, distant. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Treating you like glass?"

I didn't answer immediately, instead letting the silence fill the space between us. The weight of his words—the subtle challenge—hung in the air, and my chest tightened as I tried to untangle my feelings.

"Maybe not," I finally said, my voice quieter now, the uncertainty creeping in. "But sometimes it feels like you're holding something back. Like you're afraid to let me in."

Peter's grip tightened on the steering wheel again, his knuckles turning white. He didn't respond right away, and for a moment, I thought maybe he wasn't going to. Then, as if the words had finally broken through the walls he kept up, he spoke.

"I don't want to drag you into my mess, Little Wolf," his voice was low, rough. "I've done things… things I can't undo. And I don't want to risk you getting caught up in it. This is who I am. And I've warned you before, there's a dark side to me that not even you can handle."

My breath caught in my throat as I processed what he said. The weight of it settled over me like a dark cloud. "And you think you can just keep me away from it? Keep me out of your life?"

He glanced at me, his gaze hard. "I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need your protection," I snapped, the edge of frustration creeping into my voice. "What I need is the truth, Peter. I need to know what's going on with you. Who you really are. I can't keep doing this... living in the dark."

He seemed to consider this for a long moment before speaking again. "You really want to know, Little Wolf? All of it?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

He exhaled sharply, like the weight of his next words was too much. "Then get ready. Because once you know, you can't go back."

I watched him closely as he spoke, every word unraveling darker truths. He told me how he manipulated Derek into turning his high school girlfriend, only for her to die because of it. He shared the torment he endured after the fire, how he killed his niece, Laura, and absorbed her Alpha spark. That's when he turned Scott—only to torment him for months, forcing him into his pack for the sole purpose of gaining more power.

The air in the car grew thick with the weight of his words. Each confession seemed to slice through the silence, deepening the chasm between the person I thought Peter was and the truth that now stood before me.

I couldn't look away as he spoke, his voice steady but the rawness behind it undeniable. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He was reliving the pain, the darkness, as he spoke about it—each memory, each sin that weighed on him like a chain. The silence that followed his last words seemed to swallow the space between us, and I could feel the heaviness of the truth pressing in on me, making it hard to breathe.

"You killed your niece?" I whispered, my voice cracking with disbelief. The image of the Peter I knew, the one who had held me in his arms and kissed me like I was everything to him, shattered in that instant. I couldn't reconcile the man I trusted with the one he was describing.

Peter's jaw clenched, and I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin. He didn't seem to want to say more, but the words kept pouring out of him, like a dam had broken.

"I didn't mean to. It wasn't supposed to happen that way," he muttered, his voice raw, but there was no denying the truth in it. "The fire… the power I took, it twisted me. I couldn't control it. Laura was just... there. And I couldn't stop myself. I thought if I had her spark, I'd have enough to fix things. But all it did was make everything worse."

"How could you do that?" The words left my lips before I could stop them, the shock and hurt radiating through my voice.

He didn't answer immediately, and for a moment, I thought he might never respond. But then he spoke, his voice quieter, but the regret was unmistakable. "I wasn't the person I am now. I wasn't... I was a monster, Nova. And I still am, in a lot of ways."

I felt a pang of something sharp and painful twist in my chest, the pull of empathy I had always felt for him now tangled with the raw reality of his actions.

"I don't know who you were back then," I said softly, my voice trembling with uncertainty, "but I know the person I see now is still you. And I... I don't want to believe you're just a monster."

His eyes flicked to me for a moment, and the hurt in them was almost too much to bear. "I don't deserve your trust. Or your forgiveness. I'm broken. And nothing I've done will ever change that."

I swallowed hard, my heart aching for him despite the terror his actions stirred inside me. There was so much darkness inside him, I knew that wasn't all of him. There was so much more to Peter that I didn't fully understand.

"What happens now?" I finally asked, my voice small.

Peter didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, his face a mask of unreadable emotions. But when he spoke, his voice was low and filled with a kind of finality.

"Now you get to decide if you can handle all of me. If you can handle the parts of me that are still that monster... or if you'll walk away."

I sat silent thinking about what he'd said. Was he truly a monster? Did it even matter to me that he was? I didn't know the answers to those questions. But I knew I couldn't walk away.

"I'm here," I softly said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Peter's eyes flickered to mine for a moment, as though he was searching for something in my gaze. He didn't speak, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease just slightly. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was something close—an acknowledgment that I hadn't run. That I wasn't afraid to stand by him, even after all he had revealed. I wasn't sure what would come next, but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't leaving him.

The weight of his words lingered in the car, but the tension between us slowly started to ease. Peter's grip on the wheel relaxed as he turned the corner, heading toward the town. My stomach let out a small growl, reminding me of the morning's forgotten hunger.

Peter glanced at me, a sly grin forming on his lips. "You know, you can't go on like this without eating."

"I used to be able to eat a deer and not have to eat anything else for days," I said.

Peter's eyes glinted with amusement as he continued driving, the light chatter easing the heaviness of the morning. "A deer, huh? I guess that's one way to go about it." He smirked, his focus still on the road, but his voice softening. "You'll find human food isn't as satisfying, but it does the job."

I chuckled, leaning back in my seat. "I'll take whatever works." The familiar rumble of the car and the quiet between us gave me a moment to breathe. After everything Peter had shared, the last thing I wanted was to stay in the tension of it all.

The town was coming into view, and I could almost smell the coffee from here. "So, what's your go-to breakfast spot?" I asked, eager for a change of pace, even if just for a little while.

"Diner in town," he said, "It's quiet. But suited to people like us. The owner is an old wolf."

"Diner in town," he said, his tone casual but pointed. "It's quiet. But suited to people like us. The owner is an old wolf."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "An old wolf? Like...how old are we talking?"

Peter smirked, glancing at me briefly. "Old enough to remember when this town was just a trading post. He's been around for centuries but likes to keep things low-key. His pancakes, though? Legendary."

I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of an ancient werewolf flipping pancakes in a diner. "Now I'm really curious. Do I have to call him something special, like 'Elder Flapjack?'"

Peter chuckled, the sound lighter than I expected after our earlier conversation. "He'd probably get a kick out of that, but no. Just call him Howard. He's not much for formalities."

The car slowed as we approached the small diner tucked along the main road, its neon sign flickering in the morning sunlight. I glanced at Peter as he parked. "Legendary pancakes better live up to the hype," I teased.

Peter grinned, opening his door. "You'll see. Howard's got his secrets too. Just...less deadly than mine."

I'd learned in the months I'd been here that Beacon Hills seemed to be a beacon in every sense of the word—a magnet for the supernatural. It wasn't just wolves; it was coyotes, kanima, and creatures I'd only ever heard of in whispered tales. Every corner of the town held a shadowy secret, and every day, it felt like something new was drawn to the chaos. It was as if the very air here thrummed with energy, pulling the extraordinary and dangerous alike into its orbit.

But there were also ancient beings, like Peter's diner buddy, who had long since carved out a place for themselves here. Creatures that had seen centuries pass, their existence woven into the fabric of this town in ways I was only beginning to understand.

I wondered if, one day, I would do the same—if Beacon Hills would become my home, a place where I could settle among the supernatural currents that ran beneath its surface. Or if, eventually, instinct would take over, pulling me back into the wild, shifting me into the wolf I once was—never to return.

"You're getting quiet again, Little Wolf," Peter took my hand and lead me to through the door. There wasn't any point in hiding the connection we had anymore, not that we hid it very well to begin with.

"Just thinking about things," I responded.

"Careful with that," Peter smirked as he guided me to a booth near the back. "Too much thinking can be dangerous."

I rolled my eyes but let him pull me along. The diner was dimly lit, the kind of place where conversations were kept low, secrets exchanged over coffee and eggs. The scent of bacon and beast filled my nose—humans wouldn't notice the latter, but I could.

I glanced around, noting the few patrons scattered throughout. A couple of older men hunched over their meals, a waitress lazily refilling coffee, and behind the counter, a man who didn't look up but whose presence thrummed with something ancient.

Peter slid into the booth across from me, his expression unreadable. "So, what exactly has you thinking so hard?"

"You…" I nodded as the waitress asked if I wanted coffee, "this place. And where I actually fit in it."

Peter hummed in thought, watching me over the rim of his coffee cup as the waitress poured mine. "Big questions for someone who only just started walking on two legs."

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into my fingers. "I don't think shifting back into a wolf would make the questions go away."

His smirk was small but knowing. "No, but it might make the answers easier to ignore."

I exhaled, stirring my coffee though I didn't really need to. "I don't want to ignore them."

"Good," Peter leaned back in the booth, his piercing gaze settling on me. "Then let's start with the easiest one—where you fit in."

I swallowed, my heart picking up speed. "And where is that?"

His fingers tapped against the table. "Right here, with me."

I quirked a brow, "So are you asking to be my mate? Or what is it humans call it… my boyfriend?" I smiled at the thought. Peter was definitely no boy. It was another human thing I didn't fully understand.

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "Boyfriend sounds so... juvenile." His fingers traced the rim of his coffee cup before his eyes flicked back to mine, sharp and unreadable. "Mate is more fitting, don't you think?"

I tilted my head, considering his words. "Mates are for life."

His smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of something deeper passing over his face. "That they are."

I leaned in, resting my chin on my hand. "And you think you're ready for that?"

He didn't hesitate. "The real question is—are you?"

Was I? I'm not sure but I couldn't imagine being anywhere that Peter wasn't. My thoughts were interrupted by a plate of food set down in front of me. And I couldn't concentrate on anything else but the rumbling in my stomach.

Peter chuckled softly, clearly amused by my sudden focus on the food. "I take it the deer diet is officially retired?" he teased, watching as I picked up a fork and dove into the plate of bacon and eggs.

I glanced up at him between bites, my lips quirking into a small smile. "Let's just say this human metabolism thing has its perks. Like this." I gestured to the plate before me, savoring the salty, savory flavors that grounded me in the moment.

Peter sipped his coffee, his gaze steady and unreadable. "Good. You're going to need your strength."

I paused mid-bite, narrowing my eyes. "Strength for what?"

A mischievous smirk spread across his face. "Life with me, Little Wolf. It's never boring."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my grin. "That's an understatement."

The hair on the back of my neck stood on its end before I saw him standing at my side. He was a big burly wolf, eyes glowing red as he stared down at me.

"That's a sweet little Omega you have there, Hale. Haven't seen her around here before," he spat.

I heard a low growl echoing from the back of Peter's throat. I shook my head. I knew this wasn't the place for a fight.

Peter's fingers twitched around his coffee cup, his body going rigid beside me. "She's not yours to notice," he said coolly, voice edged with warning.

The Alpha chuckled, the sound rough and full of condescension. "Territorial, aren't we? Just making conversation." His gaze flickered back to me, his lips curling. "Omegas don't last long without a pack. You should be careful who you run with."

I met his glowing eyes, unflinching. "I do just fine on my own."

Peter's growl deepened, but I placed a hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. Not here. Not now.

The Alpha's smirk widened, sensing the tension. "We'll see," he said before turning and sauntering off, the air around us still thick with his presence.

Peter exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he tracked the wolf's retreat. "You're attracting the wrong kind of attention, Little Wolf."

I picked up my coffee and took a slow sip. "Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn't know who he's dealing with yet."

I rolled the thought over in my mind, the lingering sensation of his presence still crawling over my skin. When he stood beside me, I felt it—that pressure, the weight of his will trying to sink into me, to make me yield.

But I didn't.

I'd never felt that from Scott. His influence was different, a pull rather than a push. Scott didn't need to impose his dominance; people followed him because they wanted to.

This Alpha, though—he was testing me. Seeing if I'd bow.

I wanted to know just how far I could resist an Alpha's command. How much of my strength was my own.

Because if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that I didn't bow for anyone.

"Can you call Scott?" I asked as we finished our meal. "On your phone. I want to test something."

Peter arched a brow, clearly intrigued but not questioning me—yet. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts before pressing the call button. The line rang a few times before Scott's voice came through the speaker.

"Peter?" Scott sounded immediately suspicious. "What do you want?"

Peter smirked but handed me the phone. "Not me. She wants to talk to you."

I took the phone, ignoring the way Peter's fingers lingered against mine. "Scott, can you do something for me?"

There was a pause. "Uh… depends on what it is."

I wasn't quite sure how to ask him to try and dominate me without sounding off. Would it even work over the phone?

"I want you to use your Alpha voice on me."

Another pause. Longer this time. "What? Why?"

"I just need to know if it works," I said simply.

Scott sighed, clearly reluctant. "Fine. What do you want me to say?"

I glanced at Peter, then back at the phone. "Tell me to stay where I am."

A beat of silence. Then Scott's voice came through the speaker, low and firm.

"Stay where you are."

Nothing, "Are you even trying? Maybe it's this thing." Motioning to the phone.

"Meet me at the high school. Lacrosse field."

I could feel the tension rising in my body as Scott's command rang through the phone. This time, there was more weight to it, more authority. But once again, it didn't take hold of me.

I shook my head, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "Nope. Nothing."

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed but also a little confused. "You really didn't feel that?"

I shrugged, still holding the phone. "Not even a little. It's like he's not even trying."

Scott's voice came back through, more frustrated this time. "Are you messing with me? This isn't funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I wouldn't know how," I responded, "Maybe we should try this in person."

Scott's voice crackled through the phone, confusion and frustration blending together. "In person? Are you serious right now?"

Peter gave me a knowing glance, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. I could feel his eyes on me, his confidence radiating through the air between us.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of challenge. "Let's test it properly. Meet me at the high school, lacrosse field. I'll be there."

There was a pause before Scott muttered, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

I hung up and looked at Peter, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. "Well, guess we'll find out how much Scott's really got to offer."

Peter's grin deepened. "This should be interesting."

With a determined nod, I stood from the table. I didn't know what the test would show, but one thing was for certain—I wasn't about to back down. Not now. Not with this newfound power I didn't fully understand.

—-

It wasn't just Scott who met us at the high school, it was the whole pack. They wanted to see what kind of power I had, or if Scott's True Alpha power would be able to match it.

"So go in and just make her bend to your will," Stiles said to Scott trying to amp him up. I knew even if Scott could push me, he wouldn't try to control me. But I had to know. I had to be able to protect myself. I still couldn't shake the ick the diner Alpha gave me.

The air was thick with anticipation as we stood outside the high school, the moon just beginning to rise behind the trees. The pack had gathered, their eyes trained on me as if I were some kind of test subject. It made my skin prickle, but I wasn't about to back down. This wasn't about proving anything to them. This was for me.

Scott stood in the front, flanked by Stiles and the others, all of them looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and caution. I could feel the weight of their gazes, but my focus was on Scott. The weight of his presence was like a pulse in the air, the subtle command of an Alpha, even if it wasn't the kind that would force me into submission.

"You ready?" Stiles asked, voice carrying a teasing tone, though I knew he was serious.

I nodded. "Let's see what happens."

Scott took a step forward, his eyes locking with mine. He took a deep breath, likely preparing himself to use his True Alpha power on me, the same power that had made him one of the most respected Alphas in Beacon Hills.

"Stay where you are," he commanded, his voice firm.

But I didn't feel it. There was no pull, no pressure against my will. Instead, I crossed my arms, standing my ground, my feet planted firmly on the ground.

"I'm not moving," I said, my voice steady. There was no resistance in my words, no challenge, just simple certainty. I wasn't going to let him push me, not without a fight.

Scott's eyes narrowed slightly, confusion flashing across his face. "What the hell?" he muttered, stepping closer, eyes burning red, trying again. "Stay."

Still nothing.

I held his gaze, my own determination rising as I felt a power deep inside me, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I wasn't some weak Omega to be controlled by anyone, not even by a True Alpha.

Stiles stepped forward, looking from me to Scott. "Uh... that's... not supposed to happen."

I could feel the tension mounting in the air. The pack was watching closely, unsure of what was going on. Peter, who had been standing off to the side, leaned against the car with a smug look on his face, like he already knew the outcome.

"This is what you wanted, right?" I said to Scott, meeting his eyes. "Let's see if your power's enough to bend me."

Scott didn't say anything. He just looked at me, his brows furrowed. He wasn't used to being challenged like this, especially by someone he cared about. But this wasn't about him. This was about me. My power. My ability to stand on my own.

The air between us crackled with unspoken words, and I could feel the pack's unease shifting. Maybe they hadn't expected me to be this strong, to be a force that could stand up to even the most powerful Alpha in the room.

Peter's voice finally cut through the silence, low and smooth. "Told you she was special."

And with that, everything changed.