Chapter 30: The Alpha's Fall - Part 2
Peter's body glows.
Red light emanates from his chest. Growing brighter. Coalescing.
The Alpha spark.
Leaving the host.
It hangs in the air. Pulsing. Searching.
Derek stumbles back. "No. I don't want it."
The spark doesn't care.
Drawn to the one who defeated the Alpha. Ancient law. Supernatural imperative.
It surges toward Derek.
He tries to run.
Too slow.
The spark strikes him like lightning.
Derek convulses. Falls. Screams.
His eyes burn red. Brighter than before. True Alpha red.
Power floods through him. Overwhelming. Transforming.
The pack surrounds him. Uncertain. Afraid.
"What's happening?" Scott asks.
"He's becoming an Alpha," I say through exhaustion. "The spark chose him."
Derek's screams fade.
He stands.
Taller. Stronger. Eyes blazing red.
"I didn't want this," he says.
"No one ever does."
Chris is bleeding out.
The crossbow bolt in his shoulder. Close to major arteries.
Allison presses both hands against the wound. Blood seeps through her fingers.
"Dad, stay with me!"
Tires screech in the distance.
Melissa and Rebecca arrive. Medical bags. Determined expressions.
They've been on standby. Waiting for the call.
Melissa kneels beside Chris. "We need to get him to the hospital. Now."
Chris's eyes are unfocused. Delirious. "Kate... stop her..."
But Kate is gone. Vanished into the preserve while we fought Peter.
Allison sobs. "I should have stopped her."
"You couldn't," Scott says. "She's been doing this for years. She's good at running."
Rebecca examines the wound. "Clean through. Missed the artery. He's lucky."
"Doesn't feel lucky," Chris mutters.
"You're alive. That's lucky."
They stabilize him. Pack the wound. Prepare for transport.
Sheriff Stilinski arrives. Surveys the scene.
Burning house. Blood everywhere. Peter's body. Injured hunters.
"I'm going to need a lot of paperwork," he says.
"Animal attack," Stiles suggests. "Like always."
"A very coordinated, suspiciously tactical animal attack."
"Nature is terrifying."
The Sheriff sighs. "Help me secure the scene."
Dawn breaks over Derek's loft.
The pack sits in exhausted silence.
Medical supplies everywhere. Bandages. Gauze. Antiseptic.
Peter's body is gone. Derek handled it. Privately.
His eyes are still red. Alpha red.
He's struggling. Power too big for his body. Too much responsibility he never wanted.
Lydia speaks first. "We won."
Jackson shakes his head. "Doesn't feel like winning."
"Because it's not," I say. Every word takes effort. "People got hurt. Peter's dead. Kate escaped. We just... survived."
"That's still something," Scott says.
Derek looks at us. "Peter wanted a pack. I never wanted to be an Alpha. But now..."
Pause.
"If I'm going to be one, I need to do it right."
"Does this mean you're our Alpha now?" Stiles asks.
"I don't know. Scott should decide. He's the one Peter wanted most."
Scott blinks. "Me?"
"You're a True Alpha. It's in you. I can feel it." Derek's expression is serious. "You could refuse my pack. Build your own."
Scott looks around.
At Stiles. Me. Lydia. Jackson. Allison via phone screen from the hospital.
"We're already a pack," he says. "We don't need titles."
Silence.
Then Stiles laughs. Borderline hysterical. "We survived. We actually survived."
"Barely," Lydia points out.
"Still counts."
I lean back against the wall. Everything hurts. Haki overloaded. Nen depleted. Regeneration exhausted.
But alive.
We're all alive.
That's enough.
Home.
Eight AM. Walking like a zombie.
Coach and Rebecca wait in the kitchen.
They've been up all night. Despite my texts saying I was safe.
Rebecca's eyes scan my body. Lock onto the chest scars.
Fresh. Pink. Raised.
She doesn't ask permission. Just pulls up my shirt.
Four parallel lines. Claw marks that will never fully fade.
"You could have died," she whispers.
"I didn't."
"That's not GOOD ENOUGH—"
Coach's voice breaks.
He pulls me into a hug. Crushing. Desperate.
Rebecca joins.
We stand in the kitchen. Holding each other.
I finally let myself feel it.
The terror. The pain. The grief for Peter despite everything.
I cry.
They don't let go.
Rebecca makes breakfast.
Massive portions. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. Toast.
Eight thousand calories worth.
Coach cancels school. "You're sick. Officially. Flu."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Just sleep."
I do.
Fourteen hours straight. Dreamless.
When I wake, my phone has messages.
Scott: Taking a week off from supernatural drama. Everyone agree?
Stiles: STRONGLY agree.
Derek: Fine.
Lydia: Necessary for psychological recovery.
Jackson: Whatever.
Allison: Dad's stable. I'm in.
I text back: Agreed.
Peter's dead. Kate's gone. Derek's an Alpha.
We survived.
But then another notification appears.
A scheduled text. Sent to myself before the battle.
Check on Malia Tate. Preserve. North section. She's still out there.
Right.
The mission isn't over.
It's never over.
But for now, I sleep.
And for now, that's enough.
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