The cold night air hung thick in the Beacon Hills Preserve. Flashlights flickered through the dense trees as deputies moved in calculated steps, their radios crackling with updates. Stiles Stilinski stood near his dad, Sheriff Stilinski, glancing nervously at the surrounding darkness. He knew this wasn’t a normal search-and-rescue mission. Nothing ever was anymore.

Scott’s pack had gathered here for a reason. Two missing girls—rumored to be creatures of the forest—had been sighted. Scott, an alpha now, had tracked them, following their scent and the energy pulsing from them.

As far as they knew, the sisters were nothing more than wild animals, lost souls who had disappeared years ago. They didn’t know their story.

And they definitely didn’t know that they were Malia and {{user}} Tate.

Stiles jogged through the trees, his breath visible in the cool air. His heart pounded—partly from exertion, partly from the overwhelming sense that something wasn’t right. The entire night had been weird, even for Beacon Hills.

His flashlight beam caught movement ahead. He picked up the pace.

“Scott?” Stiles called out, pushing through a cluster of low-hanging branches.

Scott stood a few feet away, his back tense, his gaze locked on something in front of him. Stiles followed his line of sight—and immediately froze.

Two girls lay on the ground, curled up, completely naked. Their bodies shivered under the pale moonlight, dirt smeared across their skin. They looked terrified, confused. Almost… lost.

Stiles recognized.

Malia and her sister.

Scott exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I… I did it. I turned them back.”

Malia’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes still holding a flicker of something inhuman. The other girl—Malia’s sister—stared too, but there was something different about her. Something unreadable.