The next day, Trevor put his plan into motion by waking earlier than usual and heading back to the trail, this time carrying 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, and as he drew closer, something different caught his attention: an overturned car that, judging by the rust and the weeds growing around it, had been there for years, so Trevor paused for a few seconds, observing in silence, until he felt it — eyes, a pair of eyes watching him from behind a tree. He didn't look away, instead meeting the coyote's gaze directly, and slowly he raised one hand in a gesture of peace before crouching to open his backpack with calm, deliberate movements.
The growl came immediately, low and threatening, but without showing fear, Trevor pulled out the container of meat and opened it, letting the scent drift through the air, and the growling stopped because the smell of cooked meat was something that creature hadn't sensed — much less tasted — in a very long time, though 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 stepped back, giving her space, and silence stretched between them until the coyote stepped partially out from behind the tree, approached cautiously, and then ate, tearing through the pieces with almost supernatural speed, and 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, and Trevor exhaled slowly without following because coyotes were territorial, and if he pushed too far into her space now, he'd destroy whatever fragile trust he was beginning to build, so for now, this was all he could do: earn her trust, knowing that 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, and she asked, "Did something happen? I texted you and you didn't reply," to which he answered, "Yeah… I lost my phone on a trail. I'll buy another one tomorrow," making her frown slightly with concern as she said, "I'm just glad it wasn't something worse," and not long after, they arrived at school, where 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," and Scott gave an almost imperceptible nod, so 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, which she agreed to, and in the locker room, only Scott and Stiles were waiting.
The moment Trevor walked in, Stiles spread his arms theatrically and asked, "So, are we starting this super-secret paranormal meeting now?" and Trevor let out a soft chuckle before replying, "Yeah. Like I said, I need your help to find the alpha." Scott rubbed the back of his neck and admitted, "Not to disappoint you… but I can't even control the transformation," and Trevor answered, "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." He slipped his backpack off his shoulder, cracked his neck, and continued, "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 began, "And how exactly are you planning to trigger the transforma—" before Trevor stepped forward and drove a punch straight into Scott's stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs all at once. "What the hell!" Stiles shouted, but Trevor just ordered, "Focus! Control your instincts. Master them." Scott was doubled over, struggling to breathe, and if Trevor could have seen his eyes at that moment, he would have seen the golden glow emerging, but without giving him time to recover, Trevor attacked again, and this time Scott lifted his head and tried to counter — only for Trevor to dodge, then strike again, then dodge again, the clash continuing for several minutes with controlled blows and relentless pressure, instinct against discipline, until just as Scott was about to attack again… he stopped, inhaling deeply once, twice, and the golden glow faded, making him step back.
Trevor crossed his arms and said, "About time. You've still got work to do, but it's a start," and Scott pressed a hand to his stomach, asking, "Did you have to hit me?" to which Trevor replied, "It's the fastest method. And you heal fast. Relax." Stiles, still leaning against the wall, shook his head and muttered, "You two almost killed each other," but Trevor ignored him and continued, "I want you to tell Derek Hale I'll be visiting. I want to talk." Scott hesitated, saying, "I don't know if that's a good idea. When he heard your name, he told us to stay away," and Trevor countered, "Tell him I'm not like the other hunters. And that it's better to have me as an ally than an enemy," which made Scott nod as Trevor gathered his things and added, "You've got my number. If it's an emergency, call me. I'll let you know when the next session is," before he left.
Scott and Stiles stood in silence for a few seconds before Stiles asked, "You sure this is a good idea?" and Scott thought for a moment before answering, "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, and Scott continued, "We don't have to trust him completely, 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." Stiles scratched his head and said, "Maybe. Now let's clean this place up before someone sees the mess."
Later, at the Hale house, Stiles's Jeep pulled up out front, and before they even knocked, Derek appeared in the doorway, demanding, "What are you doing here, Scott?" Scott answered, "I need to talk to you. Trevor found out about me," and Derek's expression darkened as he said, "Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?" Scott explained, "I lost control at practice. He followed me into the locker room," and Derek asked, "What did he do?" Scott replied, "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 before asking, "Did he do anything else?" and Scott shook his head. "No. He's been helping me." Derek pressed, "After everything I showed you, you still trust them?" and Scott said, "He's not like the Argent family. I didn't feel any hatred from him." Derek took a slow breath before asking, "Do you know who the Belmonts are?" and Stiles, who had been quiet until then, spoke up: "I looked them up. His family inspired the Dracula legend." Derek stared at him and replied, "What the internet didn't tell you is that Dracula was real. And if not for his family, Europe would have been devastated," making Stiles's eyes widen as he blurted, "Wait. Dracula was real? So Frankenstein, the mummy, and—" but Scott cut him off, saying, "So one of his ancestors killed Dracula. From what you're saying, that was a good thing." Derek answered, "That's not the point. 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 until Scott finally spoke: "He wants to talk to you. He'll come by in a few days." Derek remained still as Scott added, "He said he just wants to talk. Maybe… maybe he's different," and Derek didn't respond for several seconds before finally saying, "That's what we're going to find out. Now leave," going back inside without another glance while Scott had to physically pull Stiles into the Jeep, because his brain was still trying to process the full implications of that conversation.