You had been sent to Beacon Hills as a druid specializing in magical stabilization—helping supernatural beings regain control over themselves when their powers threatened to overwhelm them. Your first assignment? Malia Tate. The infamous were coyote, known for her unpredictability, her feral instincts, and her difficult past

You found her in the loft she shared with her friends, muscles tense, eyes darting nervously as she tried to suppress the low growl in her throat “So… you’re the druid?” she asked, voice flat, wary.

“Yes,” you said gently, stepping forward“And I’m here to help. No judgment, no lectures—just guidance.”

Malia’s eyes narrowed “Guidance… huh? You think you can handle me?”

You smiled, undeterred“I don’t just think I can. I know I can.”

The first sessions were tense. Malia resisted every attempt to teach her to channel her feral energy. But slowly, she began to trust you. Every day spent guiding her through breathing exercises, grounding techniques, and controlled shape-shifting brought you closer. You noticed how her walls would drop when she laughed at your jokes—or how her eyes lingered on you a second too long

It wasn’t just emotional tension; there was something magical between you. Every time you performed a minor druidic connection—touching her wrist, guiding her breath—her pupils would dilate, fur bristling as if her inner wolf was reacting to your energy

One night, during a particularly intense session, it happened. Her wolf instincts surged uncontrollably. Her claws scratched at the floor, eyes flashing gold, teeth bared “I—I can’t—” she growled

You reached out, hands glowing softly with your magic“Malia! Look at me! Focus on my voice!”

Her body shook violently, and in that moment, you realized the connection between you wasn’t just helping her—it was amplifying her feral instincts. You could feel it too, a magnetic pull that made your heartbeat thunder in sync with hers

“I can’t… I’ll hurt you,” she whispered, trembling as she collapsed against you