❧ werewolf drama ❧

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Amalie sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft glow of dawn spilling through the half-open window. It painted streaks of gold across her small room, catching on the spine of the journal that rested in her lap. Outside, the world was waking—the first birds beginning their tentative songs, the rustle of leaves whispering in the cool breeze. The air carried a crispness that made everything feel sharper and cleaner, like the world was giving her a rare moment to breathe.

She hadn't slept.

Her fingers drummed lightly against the leather cover of the journal, her gaze fixed out the window. She hadn't meant to write for as long as she had last night, but once she started, the words just...poured out. Every moment with Elijah, every thread of information she could remember about the Originals, every fleeting thought or feeling that had been clawing at her mind—it was all there now, written in ink on those blank pages.

It wasn't like her to let her thoughts spill out so freely but writing it down had been the only way to make sense of it all. Or, at the very least, to convince herself that she could make sense of it eventually.

She glanced down at the journal, her fingers brushing the edge of the pages. What had unnerved her the most wasn't the bond Elijah spoke of or even the spell that had supposedly created it. What stayed with her was how calm he'd been—how patient, how sincere. Elijah Mikaelson, an Original vampire, one of the oldest and deadliest creatures on earth, had looked at her like she mattered.

And somehow, that had been the most unsettling part of all.

Amalie exhaled slowly, letting her head fall back against the wall behind her. She told herself she'd take it one step at a time—one moment, one truth, one unanswered question at a time. The journal was a start, at least  A way to organize the chaos.

Her quiet thoughts were interrupted by a faint knock on the doorframe. She tensed immediately, her fingers snapping the journal shut as her gaze darted toward the doorway.

Stefan stood there, his arms loose at his side, his expression careful. He wasn't leaning against the frame like Damon would've done, all cocky grins and arrogance. Instead, he just hovered, his presence deliberate but non-threatening.

"Didn't sleep, huh?" He asked, his tone low, almost cautious.

Amalie narrowed her eyes at him, her hand still resting protectively on the journal beside her. "How'd you know?"

Stefan lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. "I could hear your writing all night."

She rolled her eyes and let out a sharp breath. "Great. My insomnia has an audience."

Stefan ignored the jab and took a single step into the room. "I'm not here to bother you."

"Well, too late for that," she shot back, crossing her arms as she sat up straighter. "So, what do you want, Stefan?"

He hesitated for a moment, his expression flickering with something that almost looked like guilt. "I wanted to talk," he said finally, his voice quieter now.

Amalie's eyes narrowed further, suspicion blooming in her chest. "About?"

Stefan's eyes flickered with a hint of remorse. He took a step closer, his hands in his pockets, his expression open, vulnerable. "Listen, I know there's a lot for you to be angry at me for. And if it helps at all ..." he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Hurt," she repeated, her voice laced with bitterness. She turned to look at him fully now, her eyes flashing. "That's a bit understated, don't you think? You killed me, Stefan." Her words were cold, unyielding, a wall he'd have to break through if he wanted even a façade of forgiveness. "And for what it's worth, I'm not mad at you anymore. Elena's told me all about your...'blood-aholic' side. I just don't feel like being all buddy-buddy with you. Ever."

Stefan swallowed, his face carefully neutral, but a shadow of regret flickered across his features. He nodded slowly, accepting her words without argument. "And I get that. And...thank you, for...forgiving me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Just because I'm not mad at you doesn't mean I forgive you."

Stefan's gaze dropped slightly, and he nodded again, a sad resignation in his expression. "Right..."

Amalie crossed her arms, studying him for a moment. He hadn't left, which meant this wasn't the only reason he was here. She sighed, annoyed but intrigued. "So...what do you actually want?"

Stefan straightened, a faint crease between his brows as he considered her, then took a steadying breath. "I could use your help."

A mix of suspicion and curiosity flitted across her face. "With?"

"Tyler."

###

Tyler sat at his father's old desk, his eyes fixed on the computer screen, though he wasn't really reading. The silence in the room was a heavy thing, pressing down on him. The shock of recent revelations still lingered—Caroline, Stefan, everything he'd just learned about the people he thought he knew. And Mason...his stomach twisted as he thought about it. His uncle was dead, killed by vampires. By Stefan and his brother.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a faint creak, a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He looked up, heart pounding, and saw Stefan standing quietly in the shadows of the room. Tyler's immediate reaction was to bolt, to get as Far away from this place as he could, but as he made for the door, Stefan stepped forward, holding up a hand to stop him.

"Tyler, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk," Stefan said, his voice steady and calm.

Tyler's eyes narrowed, and he backed up, his hand gripping the edge of the desk. "Then why did you break in?" He demanded, his voice tense.

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "Would you have let me in otherwise?"

Tyler scoffed, moving toward the door again, but his path was blocked when Amalie stepped into view.

"Don't tell me you're already leaving," Amalie said, her tone light but laced with sharpness.

Tyler frowned, his brow furrowing. She looked familiar, but it took him a moment to place. "Who the hell are you?"

Amalie tilted her head, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "You don't recognize me? I went to your dad's wake."

His frown deepened, irritation flickering across his face. "You're Elena's cousin or something, right?"

"Not even close," she replied with a shrug, taking a deliberate step into the room.

Tyler's confusion was clear, but she didn't offer any more clarification. Instead, she nodded back toward the desk, motioning for him to sit. But Tyler's instinct to flee flared up again, and he made another move for the door. Before he could take another step, though, she moved faster, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the wall with a force that took the air out of his lungs. Her face was a mask of amused annoyance, as though she was only half interested in keeping him pinned.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," she said coolly, her voice calm but carrying an edge that sent a chill through him. "You've got two choices: you can sit down and listen, or I can keep you pinned here while Stefan gives his little speech. Your call."

Tyler's eyes widened as he struggled against her grip, panic and anger flashing across his face. "Get off me!"

"Shh," she whispered, her grip tightening just a little, her tone taunting. "Wouldn't want your mom to see this, would we?"

As if on cue, Carol Lockwood's voice floated down the staircase. "Tyler?"

He froze, his heart pounding. Amalie raised a single finger to her lips in a silent command, her eyes daring him to call for help.

"Tyler?" Carol called again, the sound of her heels clicking faintly on the first floor.

Tyler swallowed hard, his voice a forced calm. "Yeah, Mom! I'm just...reading."

There was a pause, and then her voice softened. "Alright. I'm heading out to the memorial. I'll see you tonight."

They waited, the silence stretching until the front door finally closed with a soft click. Once she was sure they were alone, Amalie released Tyler, giving him a little shove as he stepped away from the wall.

"Now," Stefan began, his tone softening as he tried to ease the tension, "maybe we're getting off on the wrong foot here."

Tyler glared at him, his voice filled with bitter accusation. "What happened to Mason?"

Stefan's expression faltered, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "Tyler, I know this is all a lot. We came here to help."

But Tyler wasn't listening, anger flashing in his eyes. He made a move to leave again, but Amalie, leaning against the doorframe, stepped forward to block his path once more. This time, she didn't reach for him. She just stared him down, her eyes sharp and cold.

"You're staying here, Tyler," she said smoothly.

Tyler glared at her, his frustration boiling over. "Why are you even here? I don't know you."

"But I know you, Tyler," she said, her voice almost mocking. "And I know you're gonna want to listen to Stefan."

Stefan took a step forward. "Amalie," he said softly, a warning in his tone.

She shrugged, but her gaze didn't leave Tyler's. "What? I'm just trying to keep him from doing something he'll regret. You think you can take both of us on?" She asked, a faint chuckle tugging at her lips. "Without the full moon, you don't stand a chance."

###

Amalie leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, watching Tyler pace the room, his face twisted with anger and frustration. They'd been trying for the past twenty minutes to explain things, to get him to understand what he was dealing with and the dangers that were coming, but every time Stefan said a word, Tyler would shoot back with questions, sharp and accusing.

"This is ridiculous," Tyler spat, throwing his hands in the air.

Amalie's eyes narrowed. "If you'd actually shut up long enough to listen, maybe you'd learn something," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the air. "We're not here because we want to be, Tyler. We're here because you need to understand what's going on before you do something stupid."

Tyler's jaw clenched, and he shot her a look of defiance. "Like what, Amalie? What exactly am I going to do that's so stupid?"

"Plenty," she replied coolly, not breaking his gaze. "Like letting your ego get in the way of the people trying to help you."

Stefan stepped forward, his tone calmed as he attempted to smooth over the tension. "Look, Tyler," he began, his voice even, "about Caroline—no matter what you think of her, no matter what flaws she has, you' re going to want her on your side. She's your friend. Stop treating her like she's the enemy."

Tyler scoffed, shaking his head. "Right. Because vampires and werewolves are supposed to be best friends now? I thought we all hated each other."

Stefan let out a quiet sigh, holding Tyler's gaze. "That's a leftover idea from another time, Tyler. It doesn't have to be that way anymore." He paused, letting his words sink. "We go to the same school. We have the same friends. We keep the same secrets. This can work, Tyler. It's your home, but it's mine too. I want this to work."

Tyler just stared at him, skeptical and defiant, but something in his gaze softened. Before he could respond, though, his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. His eyes darted up to Stefan and Amalie for a second, but he made a move to answer it anyway.

"Help, help!" Tyler said hurriedly into the phone, his voice laced with a forced urgency.

Without missing a beat, Amalie grabbed the phone out of his hand, pushed him harshly back down onto the couch, and tossed his phone to Stefan. "Nice try, Tyler. Real subtle."

Stefan caught the phone and glanced at the screen before ending the call. He tossed it onto the desk, his patience wearing thin as he stared Tyler down. "Who's number was that, hmm?" He asked, his voice steady but firm.

Tyler crossed his arms and looked away, refusing to answer. The silence thickened between them.

Stefan let out a frustrated sigh and stepped forward, his expression hard as he looked him over. "Damn it, Tyler!" He snapped. "We're trying to save your life, can't you see that?"

###

Tyler folded his arms, his face set in defiance as he looked between Stefan and Amalie. "You want to be friends? Great. We're friends." His tone was dripping with sarcasm, and he gestured toward the door. "Now, will go?"

Amalie's gaze hardened, her patience fraying thin. She stepped forward, her voice low and edged with warning. "Listen, Tyler, I'm only here because I don't want you doing anything stupid. But Stefan's here because he actually cares about whether you make it out of this alive. You think we're just here to be nice? Sorry to break it to you, but you don't have a lot of friends left willing to save your ass."

Stefan held up a hand, signaling her to ease back, his voice steady as he looked Tyler in the eye. "I don't know what else to say to you, Tyler," he began, his tone serious, but with an edge of vulnerability. "I came back to this town because I wanted a life. I wanted to exist in a place where I could have friends, where I could build a family. I have that here." He gestured between them. "And we could both have that. It's your choice."

A tension-filled silence settled over them, Tyler's face wavering slightly, but before anyone could say another word, Stefan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, the name "Caroline" flashing across it. His brows knit in as confusion he answered, "Hey, is everything okay?"

The response was chilling—a voice he didn't recognize, laced with a sinister calm. "That depends," said the woman on the other end. "How badly do you want to keep her alive?"

Stefan's face went rigid, his body tensing. "Who is this?" He looked at Amalie, knowing she was listening in as well.

The voice on the line was unfazed, almost taunting. "Ask your brother," the woman continued smoothly. "Where's Tyler?"

Stefan's voice was low, barely restrained. "Jules? Where's Caroline?"

A short pause. "You made a mistake, Stefan. I'm gonna give you a chance to fix it."

A wave of dread washed over him. "Where is she?" He demanded, his grip on the phone tightening.

There was a hint of smug satisfaction in Jules' voice. "She's right here. Want proof?"

In the background, Amalie heard a muffled movement, and then a brutal, echoing gunshot followed by Caroline's piercing scream. Stefan's face went pale, horror flashing across his features as he heard Caroline's voice crying out in pain.

Stefan's voice dropped, deadly quiet. "Hurt her again, and you're dead."

Jules' voice came back, unfazed, taunting him. "I hurt her again, and she's dead. Bring Tyler to me. The clearing by Wickery Falls. You have twenty minutes, Stefan. Otherwise, say goodbye to your friend." And with that, the line went dead.

Stefan lowered the phone slowly, his face a mask of fury and fear. Tyler was watching him, his face pale. "What did she say? What's going on?"

Amalie released Tyler, stepping closer to Stefan, her own expression dark. "They've got Caroline. Jules and her little pack are holding her hostage, and they'll kill her if we don't get you there in time." She glared at Tyler, her voice icy. "This is what we're trying to keep you from."

Tyler's face twisted with shock, guilt flashing across his features. "I didn't—I didn't know they'd do this," he stammered, his bravado faltering.

"Well, guess what," Amalie shot back, her voice fierce, her eyes locked onto him. "They did. And now, Caroline's paying the price."

Stefan took a steadying breath, his face determined. He grabbed Tyler's arm, pulling him toward the door. "Let's go. We don't have time to waste."

###

Amalie's fingers tightened around Tyler's arm as they moved into the clearing, her gaze sharp, assessing, as she took in the scene. Jules was alone, her stance confident, waiting in the open. The clearing was still, the tension thickening in the air with a feeling of unease that crept along Amalie's skin.

"I know you're out there," Jules called out, her voice echoing through the trees.

Stefan and Amalie stepped forward from the shadows, their expressions unreadable. Amalie's grip on Tyler didn't loosen as they approached, though she noticed the fainter of annoyance cross his face.

"Where's Caroline?" Stefan demanded, his voice steady but firm.

Jules crossed her arms, a small, taunting smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Locked up tight."

Amalie's gaze narrowed, her tone cold as ice. "We're not here to play games, Jules," she said, her words sharp. "Let her go, and maybe you and your pack can walk away from this in one piece. "

"Let Caroline go," Stefan emphasized. "We're not your enemy, Jules."

Jules' smirk didn't waver. "It's a little late to be waving the white flag, don't you think?" Her gaze shifted to Stefan. "You're not my enemy, huh?" She shook her head. " Funny, because it sure feels that way."

Stefan took a step forward, his posture calm but unyielding. "It doesn't have to be this way. You need to leave town. No one else has to get hurt."

Jules scoffed. "I'm not leaving without Tyler."

Stefan glanced back at Tyler, then fixed his gaze on Jules again, his expression resolute. "Tyler can make his own decisions—as soon as you release Caroline."

At that moment, Damon arrived, his sudden presence bringing a fresh surge of tension. He gave Amalie a brief, surprised look—one that seemed to question her alliance with Stefan—before shifting his focus back to Jules.

"My brother, the peacemaker," Damon drewled, his voice thick with sarcasm. He eyed Jules, his gaze calculating. "Since Stefan got here before me, I'm gonna let him try it his way before I resort to mine, which is a little bloodier." He took a slow step forward, his tone laced with menace. "So, here's the deal: give us Caroline."

Jules' gaze shifted between Stefan, Damon, and Amalie, her stance unyielding. "Let go of Tyler," she demanded, her voice low.

Damon's smirk widened. "Give us Caroline. Without a full moon, it's not an even fight, and you know it." He tilted his head, his eyes cold and challenging. "We'll take you down."

But Jules only lifted her chin, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "I'm not so sure about that, tough guy." She let out a sharp whistle, and in seconds, the forest rustled with movement as her pack emerged from the shadows, each one armed—some with stakes, others with crossbows, and one with a flamethrower, the faint scent of gasoline thickening the air.

Amalie's jaw clenched and her grip on Tyler finally loosened as she exchanged a quick, grim look with Stefan and Damon.

Jules stepped forward, her voice steely. "Let's try this again. Give us Tyler."

Damon gave a frustrated sigh, his gaze shifting to Tyler. "You heard her. Go one. Get over there." His tone was almost dismissive, as if Tyler's fate were nothing more than an afterthought.

Amalie released Tyler, her voice barely a whisper. "Go." She hated conceding, but even she knew they were outnumbered. Tyler hesitated, but eventually walked over to Jules, looking back at them with a mix of resentment and uncertainty.

One of the werewolves stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. "Which one of you killed Mason?"

Damon raised his hand casually, as if owning