Chapter 11: The Night Before
The preserve feels different today. Heavy. Like the air itself knows what's coming.
Derek is already waiting when we arrive—standing in the shadow of the burned Hale house, arms crossed. Scott parks Stiles' Jeep, and we climb out into the fading afternoon light.
"You're late," Derek says.
"Traffic," Stiles lies.
"There's no traffic in Beacon Hills."
"Emotional traffic. Internal traffic. The traffic of the soul—"
"Stiles," I say.
"Right. Shutting up."
Derek doesn't waste time. "The full moon is tonight. We need a plan."
Scott's hands are shaking. He shoves them in his pockets. "What kind of plan?"
"Containment. You're going to transform whether you want to or not. The question is where, and who gets hurt when it happens."
"I can control it—"
"No, you can't." Derek's voice is flat. Final. "Your anchor will help. But the first full moon is the worst. The wolf will take over, and you won't remember anything you do."
Scott goes pale. "What if I hurt someone?"
"That's why we're doing this." Derek gestures to the house. "The basement is reinforced. Stone walls. No windows. I've set up chains—steel, thick enough to hold you."
"You want to chain me up?"
"Unless you have a better idea."
Silence. Scott looks at Stiles, then me. His Haki signature is chaos—fear, shame, desperation.
"I'll be here," I say.
Everyone turns to stare at me.
"What?" Derek says.
"I'll be in the basement with him. My Haki can sense when he's about to break free. I can warn you before it happens."
"That's insane," Stiles says. "He could kill you."
"He won't."
"You don't know that."
"I'll be fine."
Derek studies me. "If he breaks the chains, you'll die."
"I heal fast."
His eyes narrow. "How fast?"
I don't answer. Instead, I meet his gaze and hold it.
Derek's expression shifts. Realization. "You're not human either."
"I'm human enough."
Stiles throws up his hands. "Is EVERYONE supernatural except me? Because I'm starting to feel left out."
"You're the normal one," Scott says quietly. "That's actually a good thing."
"Debatable."
Derek is still watching me. "What are you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"We can discuss my existential crisis after we survive tonight."
He doesn't look happy, but he lets it drop. "Fine. You're in the basement with Scott. Stiles monitors remotely with cameras. I'll patrol the perimeter."
"Why?" Scott asks.
"Because the Alpha is coming."
The words hang in the air like a guillotine blade.
"You're sure?" I ask.
"The full moon makes new wolves vulnerable. Unpredictable. If the Alpha wants to force Scott into his pack, tonight is the perfect time." Derek's jaw tightens. "He'll come. And we need to be ready."
The lacrosse game is packed.
Stands full. Parents cheering. The energy is electric—Friday night lights, small-town glory, all the things that feel impossibly normal when you know what's coming.
Scott is on the field, moving like he was born for this. Every pass connects. Every dodge is perfect. He's not just good—he's dominant.
Allison is in the stands, beaming. Every time Scott scores, he looks at her. Grounds himself in her smile.
The anchor.
My Haki tracks him from the bench. His emotional signature is stable—barely. Fear underneath, but Allison's presence keeps the wolf quiet.
Then Jackson decides to be Jackson.
He slams into Scott during a play—hard, deliberate, way past the line of legal contact. Scott stumbles, and Jackson grins.
"What's wrong, McCall? Can't handle the pressure?"
Scott's hands curl into fists. My Haki spikes—anger rising fast.
Too fast.
I'm on my feet before I think about it, catching Stiles' attention. He's sitting with Lydia three rows up. I signal with my eyes—distraction, now.
Stiles gets it. He jumps up, clutching his ankle. "OW! Oh man, I think I twisted something!"
Lydia looks annoyed. "Stiles—"
"No, seriously! I need ice! And possibly a medical professional!"
The commotion draws Coach's attention. He blows the whistle, calling a timeout.
Scott's eyes are flashing gold. But the distraction works—he blinks, and the color fades.
Coach pulls him off the field. "McCall, you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine."
"You look flushed. You need water?"
"I'm good, Coach."
Coach doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. Instead, he benches Scott for the rest of the quarter.
Crisis averted.
Barely.
The parking lot is emptying when my Haki screams.
The sensation hits like a punch to the gut. I double over, pressing a hand to my temple. Blood drips from my nose—warm and sticky.
"Adam?" Scott's voice. Concerned. "You okay?"
"No. It's here."
"What's here?"
"The Alpha."
Stiles goes pale. Scott's eyes dart around the parking lot. "Where?"
I extend my Haki as far as it'll go. The presence is massive—overwhelming. Ancient. And it's watching us.
"Tree line. East side."
We turn. The shadows between the pines are too thick, too dark. But for just a second, I see them.
Red eyes.
They glow like embers, burning with intelligence and hunger. The Alpha isn't hiding. It wants us to see.
Then it's gone.
The presence fades, and my Haki recovers. But the message is clear.
I'm coming. Tonight.
Derek materializes from the darkness, moving like a ghost. "You felt it."
"Yeah."
"It's going to attack during the full moon. When Scott is at his weakest."
Scott's breathing is ragged. "What do we do?"
"We stick to the plan. But we move up the timeline. Get to the house. Now."
Stiles is already heading for the Jeep. "This is fine. Everything is fine. We're all going to die, but it's FINE."
"Stiles—"
"Let me panic, Scott. It's literally the only thing I'm good at right now."
We pile into the Jeep. Derek follows on foot—or maybe he shifts, I don't know. My Haki is still buzzing, overloaded from tracking both Scott and the Alpha simultaneously.
Blood drips onto my shirt. I wipe my nose, but it doesn't stop.
Pushed too far. Again.
But there's no time to recover. The full moon is rising, and everything is about to go to hell.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling.
It's 11 PM. I should be at the Hale house. Should be preparing for Scott's transformation. But I needed to come home first. Say goodbye to Coach and Rebecca.
Just in case.
Coach is downstairs. I can hear him pacing in the kitchen—back and forth, back and forth. His Haki signature is anxiety wrapped in fear.
He knows. Maybe not the specifics. But he knows tonight is different.
My phone buzzes.
Stiles: You think it's going to happen tomorrow?
Tonight. And I know it is.
Stiles: Great. Cool. I'm definitely not having a panic attack.
I set the phone down and close my eyes.
Tomorrow—or more accurately, in six hours—Scott will transform for the first time. The Alpha will attack. And I'll be locked in a basement with a werewolf who doesn't know how to control himself.
This is insane.
But there's no other option. Scott needs someone there. Someone who can sense when he's about to break free. Someone expendable enough to risk.
And that someone is me.
I text the group: Everyone stays alert. No one goes anywhere alone.
Derek replies immediately: Agreed.
Scott: I'm scared.
Me too. But we'll get through this.
Stiles: Group hug when this is over?
If we survive.
Stiles: WHEN we survive. Positive thinking, Adam.
I almost smile.
Outside my window, the moon is nearly full. One more night. One more sunrise.
Then everything changes.
Coach's pacing stops. I hear him climb the stairs, pause outside my door. He doesn't knock. Doesn't open it. Just stands there.
His Haki signature is a mess—worry, fear, love. All tangled together.
After a minute, he walks away.
I close my eyes and try to sleep.
I don't.
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