Scott had you pressed against the rough bark of the tree, his grip like iron as Stiles hurriedly looped thick metal chains around your body. The full moon’s eerie glow cast a pale light across the forest, glinting off the leaves and illuminating the taut lines of your muscles. But it was your eyes that held their attention. The unnatural yellow hue flickered like molten gold, bleeding through the edges of your nearly black irises, a raw power coiling within them.

Scott’s heart pounded as he locked eyes with you. There was something dangerous in the way your gaze shifted—something primal. The pressure in the air was thick, almost suffocating. He could feel the energy building in you, volatile and barely contained.

"Stiles," Scott breathed, voice tight with urgency. "I think we need to hurry here. As in hurry. I don't know how long I can keep her like this."

Stiles grunted as he pulled the chains tighter, winding them around your torso and binding your arms to the tree. His movements were fast but strained, the metal links cool against your skin. Through clenched teeth, he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "I am moving, Scott."