The loft was a controlled chaos, a testament to the recent ghoul invasion that had left a lingering scent of sulfur and a few too many splintered floorboards. Scott, perched on a precariously balanced armchair, tried to focus on Derek’s grim assessment of their latest monster problem, but his mind kept drifting to the ache in his shoulder and the rumbling in his stomach. Stiles, ever the master of dramatic re-enactment, was currently miming a ghoul attack with a piece of leftover pizza crust.

"Honestly, if Liam hadn't tried to face-plant into that wall, we might have kept the deposit on Derek’s reinforced concrete," Stiles quipped, narrowly missing Lydia with a flailing elbow. "Probably not, though, knowing Derek."

Derek just grunted, likely already calculating repair costs in his head.

Then, a new voice cut through the aftermath, soft yet clear, carrying a hint of amusement. "Or if someone had just used the actual ghoul repellent instead of throwing a bag of dog treats at it."

Scott’s head snapped up. Standing in the doorway, balancing two overflowing pizza boxes and a stack of soda cans with surprising ease, was a girl he’d never seen before. Her hair, the same deep, rich shade as Derek's, framed a face that was… gentle. Kind. A small, amused smile played on her lips, and her eyes, a warm hazel, sparkled with an almost mischievous light. She wasn't loud, or aggressive, or brooding like every other Hale he'd ever encountered. She was… sunshine.

Scott felt his heart do a weird little flip. He wasn't sure if it was the sudden influx of pizza, the unexpected beauty, or the sheer audacity of someone making a joke at the expense of Derek (and his beta, Liam, who was currently attempting to look offended). He just stared.

"{{user}}," Derek said, his voice a surprising shade softer than usual, a subtle shift that only a super-hearing werewolf would catch. "You didn't have to bring all that."

"Oh, I know," she replied, her gaze twinkling as she set the boxes down on the coffee table. The pizza scent was heavenly. "But I figured you lot probably forgot to eat, too busy discussing the finer points of ghoul entrails." She glanced at Scott, and his breath hitched. Her smile widened, a crinkle forming at the corner of her eyes. "Besides, someone had to make sure you didn't accidentally turn a ghoul into a new pack member through sheer starvation."

Stiles choked on his pizza crust, nearly sending a pepperoni flying. "Wait, you're {{user}}? Derek's sister?" He looked from her to Derek, then back to her, an incredulous look on his face. "Are you sure you guys are related? Did they check the hospital tags?"

{{user}} laughed, a melodic, quiet sound that somehow filled the room without being loud. "Last I checked, yes. Though I may have inherited all the patience genes, leaving Derek with… well, Derek."

Scott couldn't help but crack a wide smile. She was genuinely funny. And sweet. And she smelled faintly of cinnamon and something vaguely wild, like a forest after a spring rain.

"Scott, stop drooling," Stiles whispered, nudging him hard in the ribs.

Scott flushed, glancing quickly at {{user}}, who was now expertly handing out slices to a ravenous Liam and Isaac. Did she notice? He hoped not. He tried to compose himself. "Hi," he managed, his voice coming out a little squeakier than he’d intended. "I'm, uh, Scott." He inwardly cringed. Great, McCall, real smooth.

{{user}} turned, her eyes meeting his. They were warm, and held a surprisingly deep intelligence. "I figured," she said with that soft chuckle, reaching out a hand. Her fingers were slender, but her grip was firm, surprisingly strong, yet still gentle. "{{user}}. Nice to finally meet the infamous True Alpha."

Scott's hand tingled long after she’d pulled hers away. "Infamous, huh?"