Jackson's breathing came in ragged pulls, each inhale sharper than the last. Moonlight spilled through the branches above, washing his face in pale silver and making the blood on his shirt look almost black.
Scott was the first to break the silence.
"Can he survive this?"
Derek crouched beside Jackson, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his shoulders said enough. He examined the wound carefully, fingers hovering over the torn flesh before pulling back.
"That depends."
Stiles groaned. "I hate when supernatural people say that."
Derek ignored him.
"The bite doesn't always take."
Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"
Peter stepped up the ridge at an infuriatingly calm pace, hands tucked into his coat as if this were all mildly entertaining.
"It means," he said smoothly, "that Jackson's body either accepts the change… or rejects it."
Stiles blinked. "Rejects it how?"
Peter's grin widened.
"Painfully."
"Wow," Stiles muttered, "you really have a gift for making every situation worse."
Aiden's gaze remained fixed on Jackson, but his mind was already several steps ahead. Kate's scent had been fresh. Too fresh. She hadn't stayed to finish anything because she had already accomplished what she wanted.
Chaos.
Jackson groaned again, his body suddenly jerking.
Scott grabbed his shoulder. "Jackson, hey—stay with us."
His eyes fluttered open for a moment, unfocused and full of fear.
"What… what happened?"
Stiles let out a nervous breath. "Buddy, that's a really long story."
Jackson's eyes shifted, landing first on Scott, then Derek, and finally Aiden.
The fear sharpened.
"You."
Aiden tilted his head slightly.
Jackson swallowed hard, trying to push himself upright despite the pain. "I saw it."
Scott frowned. "Saw what?"
Jackson's breathing hitched. "The thing that attacked us."
Derek's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't Kate?"
Jackson shook his head weakly. "No… there was something else in the woods."
That immediately got Aiden's attention.
"What did it look like?"
Jackson hesitated, like even remembering it hurt.
"Blue eyes," he whispered. "Huge. Fast."
Peter's expression shifted, the amusement fading into something more thoughtful.
Interesting.
Derek stood slowly.
"That wasn't me."
Scott looked between them. "Then what the hell bit him?"
Before anyone could answer, Jackson's body convulsed violently.
He cried out, doubling over as veins darkened beneath his skin.
Scott grabbed him again. "Jackson!"
Derek's jaw tightened. "We need to move him."
"Where?" Stiles asked.
Peter answered this time.
"My place."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Scott looked offended on principle. "Absolutely not."
Peter sighed dramatically. "Then Derek's loft. But unless you'd like the lacrosse captain screaming his transformation through the preserve, I suggest we stop debating."
Aiden looked toward Derek.
"Take him."
Derek held his gaze for a moment, then nodded once.
Scott and Derek lifted Jackson between them, starting down the slope.
Stiles hurried after them, muttering something about how this was definitely above his GPA.
That left Aiden and Allison alone for a moment at the top of the ridge.
She had been quieter than usual since Derek told her the truth.
The moonlight caught the tension in her face.
The conflict.
The hurt.
"My aunt did that," she said softly.
It wasn't a question.
Aiden looked at her, his expression unreadable but not cold.
"Yes."
Allison laughed once, bitterly.
"My family spends years telling me what monsters look like."
Her grip tightened on the bow in her hand.
"And somehow the monster was sitting at our dinner table."
Aiden stepped closer, not crowding her, just enough to pull her focus away from the spiral in her thoughts.
"Family doesn't decide who you are."
Her eyes lifted to his.
For the first time that night, something in her expression softened.
"Easy for you to say."
"No," Aiden said quietly. "It isn't."
That made her pause.
Because there was something in his tone—something heavier than the usual calm confidence.
Something personal.
Before she could ask, he turned toward the forest.
"Kate's not finished."
Allison followed his gaze.
"No."
This time her voice was steadier.
"She's not."
They headed back toward Derek's loft, the night air colder now, the weight of what had happened settling in.
By the time they arrived, Jackson was laid out on Derek's old couch, writhing with pain.
Scott paced nearby, running a hand through his hair every few seconds.
"This is insane."
Stiles, leaning against a table littered with old books and papers, snorted.
"Oh, now it's insane? Not the Alpha attacks, not Peter being basically evil Batman, but this?"
Scott shot him a look.
"Not helping."
Derek stood by the window, looking out over Beacon Hills.
"He'll either survive the night…"
Stiles raised an eyebrow.
"Or?"
Peter smiled faintly from where he stood in the corner.
"Or die."
Scott groaned.
"Can you please stop saying it like that?"
Peter looked genuinely confused.
"Like what?"
"Like you're narrating a horror movie."
Before Peter could reply, Jackson suddenly sat bolt upright with a scream.
His eyes snapped open.
Bright blue.
Everyone froze.
Derek's expression darkened.
"That's not possible."
Scott turned sharply. "What?"
Derek stared at Jackson.
"Blue eyes mean he's already shifted."
Stiles looked horrified. "He speedran being a werewolf?"
Jackson's breathing was wild now.
He looked around the loft in confusion before his gaze locked onto Aiden.
And then something strange happened.
He calmed.
Not completely.
But enough.
His shoulders loosened.
His breathing slowed.
The fear in his eyes remained, but the feral edge dulled.
Scott noticed it immediately.
"Why does he keep reacting like that around you?"
Aiden stepped closer to Jackson, studying him.
Because something about the bite felt wrong.
This wasn't a normal transformation.
The scent on him still carried traces of something unfamiliar.
Something older.
The same energy from the marks and the messenger.
Aiden's eyes narrowed.
"This wasn't a random attack."
Peter's smile faded completely.
"You think someone wanted him turned."
"Yes."
Scott stared. "Why Jackson?"
No one answered immediately.
Then Stiles, of all people, spoke up.
"Because he's close to us."
Everyone looked at him.
He continued, suddenly serious.
"Think about it. Kate attacks students. Jackson gets bitten. The school gets dragged into this harder. Scott gets distracted. Allison gets caught between her family and us."
His voice lowered.
"It's not random."
Aiden looked at him with something close to approval.
"For once, you're correct."
Stiles blinked.
"Did… did hell just freeze over?"
Aiden ignored him.
"Someone is moving pieces."
His gaze shifted toward the city lights beyond the window.
"Kate is only one of them."
Derek stepped away from the window.
"Then we find the others."
Scott looked at Jackson, then at the group around him.
This was no longer just about surviving.
No longer just Peter or the Alpha.
The entire canon flow was pulling tighter now.
Kate.
Jackson's bite.
Derek's revenge.
Allison's family conflict.
Everything was converging.
And right at the center of it—
was Aiden.
Jackson let out another shaky breath, his blue eyes flickering.
Then he looked directly at Aiden.
"What happens to me now?"
The room went silent.
Aiden met his gaze, voice calm and absolute.
"You survive."
Outside, somewhere in the darkness of Beacon Hills, Kate Argent watched the loft from a distance through the scope of a rifle.
A slow smile touched her lips.
Everything was moving exactly as she wanted.
And the war had only just begun.