It was a calm day. The sun shone brightly overhead as Trevor stood on the lacrosse field, wearing the gear the coach had loaned him. The pads still felt a little stiff around his shoulders, but he was used to carrying far heavier burdens than that.
"Listen up, Belmont. This is your stick. Hold onto it like your life depends on it."
The coach placed the stick in Trevor's hands, fixing him with a serious look.
"Look, kid, it's simple. You hold the stick, catch the ball with it, and throw. Got it?"
"Yes, Coach."
"Good."
"Piiiiiii!"
The whistle shrieked, and the coach shouted to the players scattered across the field.
"Get over here!"
Once they gathered, he pointed at Trevor.
"You probably already know him. Belmont's trying out for the team. We're running a scrimmage. If he plays well, he's in."
The players nodded and jogged back to their positions.
"But Coach, I don't know how to play," Trevor said quietly.
The man let out a short laugh.
"Like my grandma used to say, there's no better way to learn than by doing. Now quit whining and get out there."
He gave Trevor two firm pats on the back before heading toward the benches, where Stiles was sitting.
The moment Trevor stepped onto the field, he heard an excited shout from the bleachers.
"Woohoo! Go, Trevor!"
Allison and Lydia were waving enthusiastically. Trevor smiled and waved back.
That was more than enough to irritate Scott.
The problem? Scott was on the opposing team.
Trevor adjusted his helmet and muttered just loud enough for Scott to hear.
"Let's see what you're made of."
The whistle blew again.
The game began.
Trevor pushed through the defense with surprising speed. His body moved naturally, his field awareness flawless. When a teammate raised his stick to pass, Trevor was already in position.
Scott came charging in like a runaway truck, trying to intercept.
His mistake was emotional.
Too consumed by jealousy and anger, his movements became predictable.
At the last second, Trevor spun aside. Scott barreled past him and crashed hard onto the ground.
Trevor caught the ball midair and launched it.
Goal.
The goalie didn't even react.
"That's it!" Allison and Lydia shouted in unison.
Scott clenched his fists.
And the angrier he got, the more obvious he became.
Over the next few minutes, Trevor completely dominated the field. He intercepted passes, dodged with surgical precision, and scored point after point. No one could stop him—and heaven help anyone who tried.
From the sidelines, the coach watched in disbelief.
"What are they feeding these kids these days? Every one of 'em's stronger than the last… Well, whatever it is, there's no way Beacon Hills loses this year."
On the bench, Stiles was anything but calm. His leg bounced nonstop as he chewed on the tip of his glove.
"That's if they both survive…" he muttered.
Jackson, despite being on the same team as Trevor, started getting irritated. He subtly told the others to stop passing Trevor the ball.
It didn't matter.
Trevor intercepted on his own.
Until Scott couldn't take it anymore.
He dropped to his knees on the field, his body tensing as he fought to suppress the transformation.
Stiles shot to his feet immediately.
"Coach, I don't think Scott's feeling so good. I'm gonna take him inside."
The coach barely looked away from Trevor.
"Go ahead."
Trevor noticed Scott's condition.
If he lost control out there… Stiles would be in danger.
Time to act.
He jogged over to the coach.
"Coach, I'm not feeling too great either. I'm gonna hit the locker room."
"Go on, kid. Don't push yourself too hard. If you get injured, I'll kill you."
Trevor grabbed his backpack. Inside it was the Vampire Killer. Ever since the incident in the woods, he had learned it was better to keep the whip close.
Though he had no intention of using it against Scott.
As he approached the locker room, he heard a metallic crash and Stiles's nervous voice.
"Easy, Scott! Easy! Cool off under the shower!"
Trevor opened the door.
Scott was pressed against a locker that had been dented into the shape of a fist. He was breathing heavily, golden-yellow eyes glowing, veins bulging along his neck.
Stiles was standing far too close.
Trevor stepped inside silently. Scott was too consumed by his own fury to notice.
He walked until they were face-to-face.
"A wolf who can't control his anger doesn't live very long, Scott."
It was like pouring gasoline on a fire.
Scott turned slowly.
His golden eyes flared with wild intensity.
He lunged.
Trevor assessed quickly. Not the third stage yet.
He allowed himself a faint smile.
Scott attacked with brute force. Trevor sidestepped at the last instant, using Scott's momentum against him. With a movement he had learned from Mr. Hans, he twisted Scott's arm and slammed him to the floor.
A sharp impact echoed.
"Control yourself, Scott. Don't lose yourself to the anger. Master it."
Scott's breathing was ragged. He trembled.
He pushed himself up and charged again.
This time Trevor didn't throw him down. He simply evaded, redirecting the force, maintaining distance.
"Listen to her heartbeat, Scott. Focus on that."
Scott hesitated for half a second.
It wasn't enough.
Trevor strategically backed toward the showers.
When Scott lunged again, Trevor twisted the valve.
A blast of ice-cold water hit Scott full in the face.
Scott froze.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes returned to normal.
"What… happened?"
"You tried to kill me. You need to control your anger if you want to keep playing."
Scott dragged a wet hand down his face.
"Damn… you know."
"You're not exactly subtle when you're trying to attack me."
Stiles, still pale, finally found his voice.
"Holy crap."
"Sit down, both of you. We need to talk."
They exchanged a look and obeyed. Trevor leaned against a locker, arms crossed.
Silence lingered.
"First, yes. I know you're a werewolf. You don't hide it very well."
Scott swallowed hard.
"How?"
"I did my research. A hostile alpha shows up in a town with hunters. First thing he does is build a pack. Then suddenly a benchwarmer starts playing better than everyone else. Running faster than a car while riding a bike. And your eyes lit up in the middle of the field."
Scott could only mutter:
"Crap…"
He took a deep breath.
"So Allison knows too?"
"No. She doesn't know about the supernatural. And I won't be the one to tell her."
Scott visibly relaxed.
Stiles then asked, "Why would you do that?"
"Scott's a good kid. He just needs to learn control. And Allison is like a sister to me. Besides… I don't believe every supernatural creature is inherently evil."
The tension eased slightly.
Until Stiles blurted out:
"So Derek was right. You're a hunter."
Trevor narrowed his eyes.
"Derek? As in Derek Hale?"
The silence confirmed it.
"Yeah. I come from a very old hunter family. We created the hunting code. We act according to it. Unlike some others."
Stiles perked up immediately.
"I knew it! So that story online about your family inspiring the Dracula legend is true?"
Trevor laughed.
"Most of it is."
Scott blinked, completely lost.
"What are you two talking about?"
"Seriously, man? You've never heard of Dracula?"
Scott shook his head.
"Dracula. Bram Stoker. One of the biggest icons in pop culture? You need to watch more movies."
Trevor cleared his throat, refocusing.
"This town is under my protection now. If you kill anyone, you answer to me. Understood?"
Scott nodded.
"Good. Now… the alpha who bit you. Do you know who it is?"
Scott shook his head.
"I figured. Without an alpha to guide you, losing control is normal. And Derek… is he part of the alpha's pack?"
Scott shook his head again.
Trevor sighed.
"Then this alpha is alone. And he's killing. I need your help to find him."
Scott agreed without hesitation.
"Good. This isn't how I planned it, but I'm glad we talked. I'll head back to the field. I'll contact you tomorrow."
They both nodded, still processing everything.
Trevor left the locker room and made his way toward the bleachers.
Allison spoke first.
"I'm glad you're okay. What happened to Scott?"
"He just needed a little rest."
She sighed in relief.
Lydia then added with a sideways smile, "I don't know how you do it, but you better keep playing like that in the next games."
Trevor gave a confident half-smile.
"With this kind of reinforcement on the team? There's no way we're losing."