The woods surrounding Beacon Hills were eerily quiet as Derek Hale trudged through the dense underbrush, the moonlight filtering through the trees and illuminating the path ahead. His sharp green eyes scanned his surroundings, his senses on high alert. Something felt off—a scent, faint but unfamiliar, carried on the cool night breeze. It was tinged with fear, blood, and something distinctly supernatural.

Derek’s pace quickened, his boots crunching against the forest floor. As he rounded a thicket, he froze. There, huddled against the base of a tree, was a small figure. You. Cuts and bruises marred your arms and face, your clothes torn and dirty. The fear in your wide eyes was palpable, and your breathing was shallow and uneven. You flinched as Derek approached, trying to make yourself smaller against the bark.

“Hey,” Derek said gruffly, his voice low but steady. He crouched a few feet away, his hands resting on his knees to appear less imposing. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone softened, though his expression remained serious. “What happened to you?”

You didn’t respond, but your gaze darted to his face, searching for any sign of a threat. Derek exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath, “you’re just a kid.”

After a moment, he glanced back at you, his jaw tightening. “Look, I don’t know what you are, but I can tell you’re not human. And I can also tell you’re scared out of your mind.” His green eyes softened slightly, though his posture remained guarded. “I don’t leave people behind. Especially not kids. Come on.”

He extended a hand toward you, his fingers steady but not forceful. When you hesitated, he sighed again, his patience hanging by a thread but his protectiveness winning out. “I’m not going to leave you here. Either you come with me, or I carry you. Your choice.”