Trevor was on his way to the Hale house—or rather, what was left of it.
Only the burned-out frame remained, a blackened carcass in the middle of the forest.
Strangely, he felt calm.
Scott had called earlier to say Derek had refused any kind of agreement. It didn't change anything. Trevor hadn't expected him to accept easily.
And he knew Derek would be there.
He didn't have many other places to go.
As Trevor drew closer, he felt the familiar reaction of the Vampire Killer. A subtle vibration—almost imperceptible to anyone else, but unmistakable to him.
A supernatural creature was nearby.
That only confirmed what he already knew.
He walked until the house stood fully in view.
The silence was heavy.
No birds. No noticeable wind. Just the distant creak of old wood giving way under its own weight.
Trevor stopped a few yards from the entrance. He didn't step any farther.
He raised his voice, steady and firm.
"I'm here to see you, Derek. And I'm not leaving until we talk."
The silence stretched for several seconds.
Then, from inside the house, came the reply.
"What do you want?"
"To talk. About the alpha."
"I don't know anything about him."
"It's not about what you know. It's about what you can do."
A pause.
"Why would I trust a hunter like you?"
"I'm not like the others. I come in peace."
The door creaked open.
"Then come in."
Trevor hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
Then he stepped inside.
It was worse than he'd imagined. Charred wood. Walls stained with soot. The old scent of fire still clung stubbornly to the structure.
"It was hunters who did this."
The voice came from the left.
Derek stood where the living room had probably once been.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Arms crossed. His eyes glowed an intense blue.
Alpha blue.
"Your heartbeat's too calm for someone who just walked into a werewolf's home," Derek observed.
Trevor held his gaze.
They studied each other like predators.
Measuring posture. Breathing. Muscle tension.
"Like I said, I came to talk."
"Scott told me. The more I tell him to stay away from you, the more he gets involved."
"That sounds like him."
Derek didn't react.
"What do you want from me?"
"I'm hunting the alpha. He crossed the line. He's killing. And now Beacon Hills is under my protection."
One of Derek's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"It's arrogant to declare yourself a protector when you haven't done anything to prove it."
"You'll see."
The air felt heavier.
"But that's not the only reason I came," Trevor continued. "Don't get involved with the alpha. Anyone who sides with him ends up in my sights."
Derek's blue eyes flared brighter.
"You're not in a position to give orders here."
"I am. And if you don't like it… we can settle that right now."
The silence that followed was almost tangible.
Neither of them moved.
Neither blinked.
But neither attacked.
Trevor knew a fight there would gain him nothing.
He turned.
Started toward the door.
Derek watched his back carefully. Still calm. Still steady.
Just before Trevor stepped outside, Derek asked one last question.
"Do the other hunters know about Scott?"
Trevor stopped.
He glanced over his shoulder.
"No."
"Why?"
"They don't need to."
Without another word, he left.
As he walked away from the house, Trevor cast one last look at the burned structure.
A thought crossed his mind.
What am I going to do with you, Kate?
The question lingered in the air.
Farther down the trail, moving through the forest, Trevor heard a rustle among the trees.
He immediately went on alert.
His body shifted instinctively, his hand nearly reaching for his backpack.
For a second, he imagined Derek coming at him from behind.
But what emerged from the shadows wasn't a werewolf.
It was a coyote.
The same one.
Trevor relaxed slightly.
"Well, look at that… You came back. Miss me? I figured you wouldn't care if I skipped a day."
The animal didn't growl.
It simply watched him.
That alone was enormous progress.
In the days that followed, Trevor began visiting the coyote's den almost daily. He brought food. He brought water. He sat a few yards away and simply talked.
About school.
About lacrosse.
About trivial things.
He never mentioned Derek.
And, surprisingly, the coyote seemed to wait for him.
Each day she came a little closer. She no longer growled when Trevor reduced the distance between them.
That afternoon, Trevor made an impulsive decision.
"Come on. Let's go to my place. I'll get you something better to eat."
The coyote hesitated.
But followed.
They walked through the forest together, Trevor speaking casually as if he were accompanied by an old friend.
When they reached his house, Trevor set out food and water in the backyard, leaving enough space so she wouldn't feel pressured.
The coyote ate.
Then she stayed.
Watching.
Present.
And for the first time, she didn't look ready to bolt.
When night fell, Trevor went inside to sleep.
A few minutes later, the coyote returned to her den.
But before disappearing into the trees… she looked back at the house one last time.