The city lights of Beacon Hills shimmered below Derek's loft, but inside, the room felt sealed off from the rest of the world.
Jackson sat on the couch, breathing harder than he wanted anyone to notice. The worst of the convulsions had passed, but the tension in his body remained, like every muscle was learning itself all over again. His hands kept flexing unconsciously, fingers curling as if expecting claws to appear.
Scott stood nearby, arms folded, watching him with a mix of concern and disbelief.
"So… are you okay?"
Jackson looked up slowly, annoyance returning in a way that almost felt reassuring. "Do I look okay, McCall?"
Stiles let out a breath. "Honestly? This is the most normal you've looked all night."
Under different circumstances, Jackson would have snapped back harder, but right now he just leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.
Derek stepped away from the window. "He needs rest."
Peter gave a dry smile from the shadows. "And control. Otherwise your favorite lacrosse player is going to rip someone's throat out the first time he gets angry."
Scott shot him an irritated look. "Can you stop saying things like that?"
Peter's smile widened. "No."
Aiden, meanwhile, had gone silent.
He stood near the center of the loft, gaze lowered slightly, thoughts moving faster than anyone else in the room could follow. Jackson's transformation had happened too quickly. Even for a bite, it was wrong.
Someone had accelerated it.
Which meant Kate hadn't been hunting blindly.
She had been planning.
Allison stepped closer to him, lowering her voice. "You're thinking about her."
Aiden looked at her.
"Not just her."
That immediately got her attention.
"What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, a low growl escaped Jackson.
Everyone turned.
His body had gone rigid again.
His eyes flashed blue.
Then yellow.
Then blue once more.
Derek's expression hardened.
"That shouldn't happen."
Scott frowned. "What does that mean?"
Peter's tone lost some of its amusement. "It means something is interfering with the bite."
Aiden's gaze sharpened.
There it was again.
That same strange pressure in the air.
The same feeling he had sensed around the symbol and the messenger.
This wasn't pure werewolf energy.
Something older was touching the transformation.
Jackson suddenly gasped and clutched his chest.
"It burns."
Derek moved toward him, but Aiden got there first.
The moment his hand pressed against Jackson's shoulder, the room stilled.
Jackson's breathing slowed.
His eyes steadied.
Scott stared.
"Okay, I'm definitely asking now. Why does everyone calm down when you touch them?"
Stiles pointed dramatically. "Because he's the main character, Scott."
No one laughed.
Aiden's eyes narrowed slightly as he focused.
For just a moment, beneath the werewolf scent, he felt something else.
Magic.
Ancient.
Hunter-made.
His expression darkened.
"Kate marked the blade."
Allison froze.
"The knife?"
Aiden nodded once.
"She didn't just attack Derek. She wanted the bite corrupted."
Derek's jaw clenched. "Why?"
Peter answered this time, voice quieter than usual.
"To make the new wolf unstable."
Scott looked between them. "You mean turn Jackson into some kind of weapon?"
Aiden's silence was answer enough.
Allison's face tightened.
"She's using people now."
Peter gave her a flat look. "Your aunt burned an entire family alive. Using one arrogant teenager is hardly a step down."
The words hit hard.
Allison looked away.
Scott immediately stepped in. "Peter, enough."
Peter merely shrugged.
Aiden turned toward Derek.
"Where would she go?"
Derek didn't hesitate.
"The old Argent safehouse near the preserve."
Allison's head snapped up.
"There's a safehouse there?"
Derek met her gaze.
"Used during the Hale fire."
The room fell silent.
Even Stiles didn't have a joke for that.
Aiden straightened.
"We move now."
Scott blinked. "Right now?"
"Yes."
Derek was already reaching for his jacket.
Scott looked at Jackson. "We can't just leave him."
Jackson opened his eyes and forced himself upright.
His voice was strained, but there was still pride in it.
"I'm not staying behind."
Stiles looked horrified. "You almost died an hour ago."
Jackson glared at him. "And yet here I am."
Peter let out a low chuckle. "I almost missed his personality."
Aiden looked at Jackson for a long moment.
"You come, you follow orders."
Jackson's jaw tightened at being told what to do, but after a second, he nodded.
That alone told Scott how shaken he really was.
Minutes later, the group moved through the forest under the cover of night.
The preserve felt different now.
More hostile.
Like the darkness itself was watching.
Scott kept pace beside Aiden. "You really think Kate's there?"
"She wants Derek angry," Aiden said calmly. "She wants Allison conflicted. She wants Jackson unstable."
Scott frowned.
"So what does she want from you?"
That made Aiden glance sideways at him.
"She doesn't know yet."
Scott didn't like that answer.
Ahead, Derek raised a hand, signaling everyone to stop.
Through the trees, an old stone structure came into view.
Part hunting cabin.
Part bunker.
Weathered by time but still standing.
Allison stared at it.
"I've never seen this before."
Peter's voice came from behind them.
"That's because some family secrets stay buried."
Derek moved first, slipping toward the building.
Aiden caught his arm.
"Wait."
Derek's blue eyes flashed.
"She's inside."
"Yes," Aiden said. "And she wants you to rush in."
For a moment, Derek looked ready to ignore him.
Then he forced himself still.
Aiden's gaze swept over the structure.
Two windows.
One rear exit.
Fresh tracks.
And another scent.
Not Kate.
A man.
Gun oil.
Silver.
Hunters.
Plural.
A trap.
He looked at Allison.
"How many does your family usually station in a safehouse?"
Her expression shifted.
"Three to five."
Stiles whispered, "Fantastic. I hate all of this."
Aiden's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"Good."
Scott groaned. "Why do you always sound excited right before things go horribly wrong?"
"Because," Aiden said, eyes flickering faintly amber, "this time we're not walking into their trap."
He looked at Derek and Scott.
"Rear entrance."
Then at Allison.
"With me."
Her heartbeat kicked faster, but she nodded.
Peter watched the whole thing with open amusement.
"Well," he murmured, "this is getting interesting."
The group split.
Derek, Scott, and Jackson circled toward the back.
Stiles stayed with Peter, mostly because he trusted the psycho uncle slightly more than the dark forest alone.
Aiden and Allison moved toward the side of the cabin.
She kept close, bow in hand.
Her voice was low.
"Why me?"
Aiden glanced at her.
"Because Kate won't expect you."
That answer sent a chill through her.
Because he was right.
Aunt Kate expected Derek's rage.
Scott's impulsiveness.
Peter's schemes.
But not her.
They reached the side window.
Inside, candlelight flickered.
Kate stood at the center of the room, rifle resting casually against a table.
And she was not alone.
Beside her stood the same older man from before.
The one with the ancient symbol.
The one who had called Aiden the reason Beacon Hills was waking up.
Allison's breath caught.
Aiden's expression went cold.
Now the pieces were finally coming together.
This was bigger than Kate.
Much bigger.
And tonight—
they were finally going to learn who was really pulling the strings.