The next day, Trevor put his plan into motion.
He woke earlier than usual and headed back to the trail. This time, he carried a backpack with the whip inside, along with leftover pieces of meat from dinner and a map marking the spot where the coyote had taken his phone.
As he drew closer, something different caught his attention.
An overturned car.
Judging by the rust and the weeds growing around it, it had been there for years. Trevor paused for a few seconds, observing in silence—until he felt it.
Eyes.
A pair of eyes watched him from behind a tree.
He didn't look away.
Instead, he met the coyote's gaze directly.
Slowly, he raised one hand in a gesture of peace. Then he crouched and opened his backpack with calm, deliberate movements.
The growl came immediately.
Low. Threatening.
Without showing fear, Trevor pulled out the container of meat and opened it, letting the scent drift through the air.
The growling stopped.
The smell of cooked meat was something that creature hadn't sensed—much less tasted—in a very long time.
Even so, it didn't approach.
"I know you can understand me," Trevor said, his voice steady but gentle. "I come in peace. I brought food. There's nothing wrong with it."
To prove his point, he took a piece and ate it in front of her. Then he stepped back, giving her space.
Silence.
The coyote stepped partially out from behind the tree.
She approached cautiously.
Then she ate.
She tore through the pieces with almost supernatural speed.
Trevor allowed himself a small smile.
"See? It's good, right? I'll come back tomorrow and bring more. But you have to promise not to try and rip my throat out."
The coyote let out a low growl—not threatening this time, more like a warning—before darting back into the forest.
Trevor exhaled slowly.
He didn't follow.
Coyotes were territorial. If he pushed too far into her space now, he'd destroy whatever fragile trust he was beginning to build.
For now, this was all he could do: earn her trust.
For any real progress… he would need an alpha to force a reverse transformation.
Later, he got into Allison's car to head to school.
"Did something happen? I texted you and you didn't reply."
"Yeah… I lost my phone on a trail. I'll buy another one tomorrow."
She frowned slightly, concerned.
"I'm just glad it wasn't something worse."
Not long after, they arrived at school.
The day went by seemingly normal—except for the constant glances from Scott and Stiles.
In the middle of class, Trevor murmured quietly without looking at them directly.
"Locker room. After school."
Scott gave an almost imperceptible nod.
When the bell rang, Trevor told Allison he'd be staying a little longer to handle some lacrosse matters and would catch a ride with Stiles.
She agreed.
In the locker room, only Scott and Stiles were waiting.
The moment Trevor walked in, Stiles spread his arms theatrically.
"So, are we starting this super-secret paranormal meeting now?"
Trevor let out a soft chuckle.
"Yeah. Like I said, I need your help to find the alpha."
Scott rubbed the back of his neck.
"Not to disappoint you… but I can't even control the transformation."
"That's why I'm going to help you. Once you can control it, you'll be able to use your connection to the alpha to find him."
"Simple," Trevor added.
He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and cracked his neck.
"I'm going to trigger your transformation. I want you to think of something strong. A happy memory. An anchor. Use that to keep control."
Stiles tilted his head.
"And how exactly are you planning to trigger the transforma—"
Trevor stepped forward and drove a punch straight into Scott's stomach.
The air rushed out of his lungs all at once.
"What the hell!" Stiles shouted.
"Focus!" Trevor ordered. "Control your instincts. Master them."
Scott was doubled over, struggling to breathe. If Trevor could have seen his eyes at that moment, he would have seen the golden glow emerging.
Without giving him time to recover, Trevor attacked again.
This time, Scott lifted his head and tried to counter.
Trevor dodged.
Another strike.
Another dodge.
The clash continued for several minutes. Controlled blows. Relentless pressure. Instinct against discipline.
Until, just as Scott was about to attack again… he stopped.
He inhaled deeply.
Once.
Twice.
The golden glow faded.
He stepped back.
Trevor crossed his arms.
"About time. You've still got work to do, but it's a start."
Scott pressed a hand to his stomach.
"Did you have to hit me?"
"It's the fastest method. And you heal fast. Relax."
Stiles, still leaning against the wall, shook his head.
"You two almost killed each other."
Trevor ignored him.
"I want you to tell Derek Hale I'll be visiting. I want to talk."
Scott hesitated.
"I don't know if that's a good idea. When he heard your name, he told us to stay away."
"Tell him I'm not like the other hunters. And that it's better to have me as an ally than an enemy."
Scott nodded.
Trevor gathered his things.
"You've got my number. If it's an emergency, call me. I'll let you know when the next session is."
He left.
Scott and Stiles stood in silence for a few seconds.
"You sure this is a good idea?" Stiles asked.
"What do you mean?"
"He seems kind of crazy."
Scott thought for a moment.
"I learned more from him today than I did from Derek in days. With Derek, I just… sank into the anger. With Trevor, it was hard, but it felt clearer. Like I had a choice."
Stiles didn't answer right away.
"We don't have to trust him completely," Scott continued. "But we can give him a chance. And… he's the only human who managed to fight me while I was transformed. If I lose control on the field, he can stop me."
"Maybe," Stiles said, scratching his head. "Now let's clean this place up before someone sees the mess."
Later, at the Hale house, Stiles's Jeep pulled up out front.
Before they even knocked, Derek appeared in the doorway.
"What are you doing here, Scott?"
"I need to talk to you. Trevor found out about me."
Derek's expression darkened.
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"
"I lost control at practice. He followed me into the locker room."
"What did he do?"
"He… helped me get it under control. He said he's a hunter. And that Beacon Hills is under his protection."
Derek was silent for a moment.
"Did he do anything else?"
"No. He's been helping me."
"After everything I showed you, you still trust them?"
"He's not like the Argent family. I didn't feel any hatred from him."
Derek took a slow breath.
"Do you know who the Belmonts are?"
Stiles, who had been quiet until then, spoke up.
"I looked them up. His family inspired the Dracula legend."
Derek stared at him.
"What the internet didn't tell you is that Dracula was real. And if not for his family, Europe would have been devastated."
Stiles's eyes widened.
"Wait. Dracula was real? So Frankenstein, the mummy, and—"
Scott cut him off.
"So one of his ancestors killed Dracula. From what you're saying, that was a good thing."
"That's not the point," Derek replied. "The Belmonts are a legend in the supernatural world. Parents warned their children never to cross their path. The presence of a Belmont disrupts any supernatural society."
Silence settled over them.
Scott finally spoke.
"He wants to talk to you. He'll come by in a few days."
Derek remained still.
"He said he just wants to talk. Maybe… maybe he's different."
Derek didn't respond for several seconds.
"That's what we're going to find out. Now leave."
He went back inside without another glance.
Scott had to physically pull Stiles into the Jeep, because his brain was still trying to process the full implications of that conversation.