Derek was weighed down by crushing guilt. He had been used—manipulated into giving Kate the location of the Hale home. Because of him, his mother… The entire Hale family was gone. Only his uncle and two sisters had survived.
Well… only one sister remained.
All this because of me… Derek Hale thought bitterly.
I don't deserve to live—not with this guilt.
But he knew all too well… his mother would be furious if he gave up now. Leaving this world early wasn't the answer—not for someone carrying the Hale name.
So instead of wallowing in regret, he made a choice.
He was going to hunt down the Alpha. Kill it. Take its power. And then finish what should have been done a long time ago.
He was going to end Kate—once and for all.
Derek rose slowly, his eyes narrowing as he caught Rowan still shooting him death stares—ever since Iván had left.
But he ignored it.
"Rowan," he said firmly, "I need a tracking spell. Use my blood. If this Alpha is a Hale… it'll show."
Rowan let out a short chuckle. "Don't worry," he replied. "My dad's already out getting the ingredients as we speak."
"As for the plan," Rowan continued, "we're going to need Iván's help. But I'm not sure I trust him—especially with that weird necklace of his."
"He's an Adrastus," Derek said, his voice low and steady. "He might be new to all this, but strength like his? That's not something you ignore."
Rowan scoffed. "Adrastus? Never heard of them. So forgive me for being a little paranoid around him."
(Peter POV)
In one of the dim hospital rooms, Peter Hale sat in a wheelchair, lifeless and still, his eyes hollow, his face marred by the burns that never truly healed. The fire… he remembered it all too well. He had been in one of the rooms when it started—when the screaming began.
The cries of his family still echoed in his mind. His sister's voice…
And then came the flames.
But it wasn't just any fire. No—this fire was unnatural. It didn't just burn flesh. It devoured legacies. It erased bloodlines.
And he had survived.
He almost laughed—choked on a bitter chuckle. It was a miracle he'd survived at all. The Hale home had been sealed, a magical barrier thrown up to trap everything—and everyone—inside.
Then he saw her.
Kate Argent.
She was the one who lit the fire. He remembered the way the flames danced in her eyes, the twisted satisfaction on her face. And she wasn't alone.
Standing beside her was one of those cursed zealots from the so-called Holy Church. The kind that believed all of them—werewolves, were abominations.
They'd pay. Every last one of them. The fire took his family.
And soon, he'd return the favor in kind.
"Peter, I've got news," the nurse said from behind him. "Kate Argent is in town."
Peter slowly rose from his wheelchair, turning to face her with a faint, sinister smile.
"How brilliant," he murmured. "The plan worked. Play weak, draw in just the right number of Argents. Classic misdirection."
His smile faded slightly, eyes narrowing with irritation.
"Of course, Constantine nearly ruined everything, didn't he? Telling the Argents to back off…"
"But none of that matters now. I'm not after him or that kid—at least, not yet. Not with Kate back."
He smiled darkly, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Imagine the look on her face… right before I claw her into little chunks of meat."
Peter turned to glance at the nurse, nodding with satisfaction at her work.
Approaching her, he extended his arm.
"You've been a good little vampire," he said smoothly. "You may drink."
Without hesitation, her fangs emerged, sinking into his flesh. His blood flowed into her, rich and potent—intoxicating. He could smell the effect it had on her. Addictive. Powerful.
"That's enough," he said, voice sharp and final.
She obeyed instantly, withdrawing her fangs and stepping back. She wiped the blood from her lips, eyes glazed with a mix of hunger and satisfaction.
Peter rolled his sleeve back down, smirking faintly.
"See? Loyalty always has its rewards."
"Yes… thank you," she whispered, a shiver in her voice. "Your blood is… exquisite."
She shifted slightly, unconsciously rubbing her legs together, the taste still lingering on her tongue.
"Now, tell me, my sweet little informant," he purred, his voice smooth and dangerous. "Where's the church?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to stay composed.
"The one responsible is already on his way," she said. "A call was made… a trap to lure him here."
Peter's lips curled into a smirk. "Good girl."
He leaned in and gave her a small kiss—just enough to keep her hooked, within arm's reach. He had no real affection for her, of course. Vampires were revolting creatures.
But this one… she kept him entertained.
Without any warning, Peter slipped into the shadows, vanishing from the hospital and making his way into the woods.
With each step, his body began to change—muscles bulging, bones cracking and reforming. His skin tore and peeled as a fresh, fur-covered layer emerged beneath His teeth sharpened into fangs, reshaping into something monstrous. His fingers stretched into claws, curved and deadly.
He wasn't just a werewolf.
He was an Alpha—an apex predator.
....
A Porsche SUV cut through the darkness, its high beams slicing the fog that clung to the narrow, forested road like a living thing.
Inside, a man sat behind the wheel—silver-haired, blue-eyed, dressed in the somber black of a priest. A golden crucifix swayed gently from the rearview mirror, catching brief flashes of light. He drove in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound—until his phone buzzed.
"Daddy, when are you coming home?" a small voice chirped through the speaker, sweet and full of warmth.
The man's expression softened. "Soon, sweetheart. I just have something important to take care of first, okay?"
"Yay! I get to see Daddy!"
He smiled, a rare warmth breaking through the cold stillness around him. But outside, the trees pressed in tighter. Shadows moved just beyond the reach of the headlights—too fast to be wind, too quiet to be animals.
The smile faded.
"Sweetheart, I'll call you—"
He didn't get to finish.
A dark figure burst from the shadows—red eyes glowing like embers. It slammed into the car with brutal force, sending it flying down the hill. The vehicle rolled, metal twisting, before landing upside down with a crunch. Smoke hissed from the wreck, and in the chaos of ringing ears and spinning vision, the man whispered, "I love you, Heather…"
Before he could say anything more, he was yanked from the wreckage.
A massive Lycan loomed over him, snarling, eyes burning. It held him in the air.
"Paul…" the creature growled, its voice like smoke and gravel.
The man gasped, choking out, "In the name of Jesu—"
But he never finished.
He lunged—biting down on Paul's head, ripping it clean off with a sickening crunch.