Malia had been running for hours. Her coyote senses guided her, alert to every shadow and whisper of the wind. Beacon Hills had become suffocating; every familiar street, every pack member, every problem she’d tried to outrun had somehow found her

Then she saw it: a flicker of light on the water. A boat, bobbing gently in the waves, anchored just off the shore. And on that boat… you were there

Your hair shimmered like sunlight on water, your eyes glinting with an otherworldly hue. Malia froze, instinct warning her, curiosity dragging her forward“Who… are you?” she asked, cautious but drawn in

“I could ask you the same,” you replied, voice melodic, hinting at secrets that danced just out of reach “You look like someone who needs… to disappear for a while.”

And disappear she did