Gabriella, Scott, and Stiles slowly approached the den nestled beneath a tangle of branches and brush. The earthy scent of the forest surrounded them, and the quiet rustling of the leaves made the hairs on their necks stand on end.

Scott crouched near the entrance, shining his flashlight inside. "This is it," he murmured.

Gabriella stepped forward, carefully pulling an old, tattered jacket out of the den. She held it up, examining it under the beam of Scott's flashlight.

"This matches the one Malia was wearing in the photo at her house," she said, her voice tinged with unease.

Stiles poked his head over her shoulder. "Well, that's not creepy or anything," he muttered, his eyes darting around.

Gabriella knelt and picked up a worn teddy bear, its fur matted and one eye missing. She sighed, clutching it tightly. "She's not coming back," she said. "We invaded her home. Coyotes don't like wolves, and our scent is all over the place now."

"But she's not a coyote. She's a girl," Scott countered, his tone insistent.

Gabriella gave him a hard look. "A girl who has lived like a coyote for years. She's not going to react like a normal person, Scott."

She dropped the teddy bear back onto the ground. "I can't even catch her scent. She's been in the woods so long, her scent blends into the forest."

Scott stood, running a hand through his hair as he looked around. "This is basically a crime scene, right?" he said after a pause. "I think it might be a little out of my boss' league..."

"...And more in my dad's," Stiles finished. He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Great. Guess I'm calling him."

Gabriella crossed her arms, glancing back at the den. "Let's just hope Malia doesn't see this as a declaration of war."

[...]

The Sheriff climbed out of the den, brushing dirt off his uniform, and held a tattered piece of Malia's clothing in his hands. His gaze shifted to Gabriella, Scott, and Stiles, his expression tense.

"You're sure it was her?" he asked.

Gabriella nodded firmly. "I looked her right in the eyes, and they glowed, just like mine."

The Sheriff exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I need this kept quiet. The three of you? Not a word. I don't want anyone hearing about this, especially not Mr. Tate."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, a car pulled up nearby.

Rafael McCall stepped out, accompanied by Henry Tate.

The Sheriff muttered under his breath, "Aw, hell..." before raising his voice. "Mr. Tate-"

Henry Tate ignored him, his eyes fixating on the piece of clothing in the Sheriff's hands.

Wordlessly, he stepped forward and gently took it, his hands trembling. "It's hers..." he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

Rafael sighed and started toward the den, but Scott quickly stepped in his path.

"Dad-" Scott began, his tone both frustrated and pleading.

Rafael cut him off, his voice sharp. "I'll talk to you in a minute. I wouldn't mind hearing how your mom's okay with you running around in the woods this late."

He turned his attention to Gabriella, his gaze scrutinizing. "What about your parents? Do they know you're out here?"

Gabriella crossed her arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "My mom's kinda dead, and my dad's an asshole. Guess you two have that in common."

The air grew heavy as Rafael's eyes narrowed slightly, but Gabriella didn't back down.

Scott and Stiles exchanged uneasy glances, while the Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose harder, clearly dreading what might come next.

But Gabriella just gave him a tight smile before moving to leave the woods

[...]

Gabriella walked out of her previous class, her bag slung over her shoulder, and headed down the hallway to her next one.

The chatter of students and the shuffle of feet around her faded into the background as she approached the classroom door

As she stepped inside, the air seemed to change-thicker, heavier, suffocating.

The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting eerie shadows across the room.

Gabriella froze in place, her breathing shallow as the scene before her shifted.

The classroom was gone. Instead, she found herself surrounded by the dead bodies from her recurring nightmare.

Blood pooled on the floor, seeping toward her feet, and she couldn't move.

"Gabriella..." a cold, chilling voice echoed.

She turned slowly, and there it was-a shadowy figure holding a gleaming sword.

Her heart raced as the figure raised the weapon.

"No!" she tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The sword plunged toward her chest, and Gabriella felt a searing pain as if it had truly struck her. She gasped, clutching her chest, her vision blurring.

"Gabby!" Erica's voice cut through the haze.
Gabriella blinked, and the scene disappeared.

She was back in the classroom, standing in the middle of the aisle, clutching her chest with trembling hands.

The other students stared at her, murmuring among themselves.

Erica was at her side in an instant, gripping her arms firmly. "Hey, hey, look at me. You're okay. It wasn't real."

Gabriella's breathing was erratic, but Erica's voice was grounding. She nodded slowly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"I... I thought I was back there," Gabriella whispered, her voice barely audible.

Erica guided her to an empty seat, crouching down beside her. "You're not there. You're here with me. Whatever it was, it's not happening."

Gabriella leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing.

Erica stayed by her side, her hand resting gently on Gabriella's arm.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Erica asked softly.

Gabriella nodded without hesitation. "Please."

Erica gave her a reassuring smile, though worry lingered in her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

[...]

Scott and Gabriella walked side by side down the crowded hallway, their voices hushed but intense as they discussed the hallucinations that had been haunting them both.

"I'm telling you, Scott, it felt real," Gabriella said, rubbing her temple. "Like it wasn't just in my head. It was... physical."

Scott nodded, his jaw tight. "Same here. Deaton said the door in our minds is still open, but this feels like more than that."

Their conversation was interrupted by a piercing scream echoing from the direction of the locker room.

The two exchanged a glance before sprinting toward the sound.

When they burst into the locker room, they found Kira Yukimura, the new girl, crouched behind a bench, her eyes wide with fear.

A snarling coyote stood a few feet away, its glowing blue eyes locked on her.

Scott immediately stepped in front of Kira, shielding her. "Hey, it's okay," he said calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Gabriella, however, wasn't in the mood to negotiate. With a sharp kick, she knocked over an entire row of lockers, the crashing noise startling the coyote.

It growled one last time before darting out the door and disappearing into the shadows of the school.

Scott turned to Kira, who was trembling but otherwise unharmed. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

Kira nodded, though her hands were still shaking. "What... what was that thing?"

Gabriella crouched beside her, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. "That was just a scared coyote. You're safe now."

As Scott helped Kira to her feet, his eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where he spotted something that made his heart sink.

Stiles was peeking around the edge of a row of lockers, and in his hands was the baby doll they'd found in the Tate car earlier.

"Stiles!" Scott called out, his tone sharp.

Stiles froze, the doll clutched to his chest. "What? I didn't want to leave it in the woods! You never know when a haunted doll might come in handy."

Gabriella gave him a flat look as she helped Kira to her feet. "Seriously, Stiles? You're carrying that thing around?"

Stiles shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. "It's a conversation starter."

Gabriella rolled her eyes, muttering, "More like a nightmare starter."

Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's just get out of here before anything else happens."

As they escorted Kira out of the locker room, Gabriella glanced back toward the now-empty space where the coyote had been, unease settling in her chest. Something about all of this felt wrong-too coincidental, too deliberate.

And she had a feeling this was only the beginning.

[...]

The group huddled around the examination table in Deaton's clinic, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls.

Deaton carefully placed three small bottles of Xylazine in front of them, his expression serious.

"It's a horse tranquilizer," Deaton explained, his calm voice cutting through the tension in the room.

"It should work on a werecoyote within seconds, but whoever is shooting has to have a damn good shot."

Scott picked up one of the bottles, inspecting it as he said, "Allison is a perfect shot."

Erica leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her tone sharp. "She was a perfect shot."

Scott glared at her. "She can still do it."

Erica shrugged, not backing down. "If we even manage to find her."

Stiles, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Okay, what is the point of her? Seriously, what is her purpose?"

The room went still for a moment. Erica smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief as she turned to Stiles. "Still bitter, Stiles? What's the matter-mad I stole your girlfriend?"

Stiles' face turned red, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Gabriella stepped between them, holding up a hand.

"Erica, cut it out," she snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument. She turned to Stiles, giving him a look that said let it go.

Stiles huffed and crossed his arms, muttering something under his breath.

Gabriella sighed, running a hand through her hair as she redirected the conversation. "Look, when we find Malia, I can turn her back. I'll use my voice, just like Peter did with Scott when he broke into the school."

Scott glanced at her, his brow furrowing. "You're sure you can do that?"

Gabriella nodded. "I've done it before. It's risky, but if we can calm her down first, it should work."

Erica tilted her head, curious. "And if it doesn't?"

Gabriella's eyes hardened. "Then we tranquilize her and figure out the rest later."

Deaton nodded approvingly. "It's a solid plan, but timing will be everything. You'll need to act quickly and decisively."

Scott pocketed one of the bottles, determination in his eyes. "We'll find her, and we'll do this together."

Gabriella exchanged a glance with Erica, who gave her a small nod. Despite the tension, they all knew they had to put their differences aside to save Malia-and to stop the police from making a deadly mistake.

[...]

The group gathered at the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve, a chill settling in the air as dusk blanketed the woods.

Gabriella scanned the faces around her: Scott's resolute expression, Allison adjusting the strap of her quiver, Isaac fidgeting with his jacket, Erica smirking as if this was all a game, Stiles already looking annoyed, and Lydia standing off to the side, arms crossed and looking vaguely disinterested.

"Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?" Lydia asked, breaking the silence.

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," Scott replied firmly.

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Actually, we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who's actually his daughter..."

Stiles threw his hands up in disbelief. "Is being turned by Derek some kind of curse that automatically makes you useless?"

Isaac glared, his mouth opening for a retort, but Gabriella stepped between them, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "Are we forgetting why we're actually here? Put your scratch fight on pause until we find Malia. Then you two can go back to hating each other."

Before anyone could respond, a gunshot echoed through the woods, sharp and jarring.

"The fight might be resumed sooner than we thought," Erica quipped, her grin faltering as Gabriella's eyes flashed red.

Without a word, Gabriella took off, her enhanced speed propelling her toward the sound.

The others barely had time to register her departure before they scrambled to follow.
Gabriella sprinted through the dense forest, her senses sharp as she zeroed in on the source of the gunfire.

A blur of movement caught her eye-a coyote darting through the underbrush, its blue-glowing eyes betraying its supernatural nature.

She pushed herself harder, her feet pounding against the earth as she chased the creature.

The woods grew darker as she neared the site of the car wreck, the crumpled metal a haunting reminder of Malia's tragic past.

With a burst of speed, Gabriella leaped over the wreckage and landed squarely in front of the fleeing coyote.

Her presence was commanding, her red eyes glowing as she allowed herself to partially shift, claws extending and fangs bared.

The coyote skidded to a halt, letting out a startled, guttural noise.

Gabriella raised her head and let loose a deep, resonant Alpha roar that echoed through the woods, commanding and primal.

The coyote froze, its blue eyes locking onto Gabriella's.

A tremor ran through its body, and then, in a flash, the creature began to change.

Fur receded, limbs reshaped, and within moments, Malia Tate sat trembling on the forest floor.

She was human again, her long, messy hair framing a face that was both striking and bewildered.

She clutched at the dirt beneath her, staring at her own hands as if seeing them for the first time in years.

Gabriella straightened, her features softening as she took in the sight of the frightened girl. "Malia," she said gently, crouching down.

Before Malia could respond, Erica skidded to a stop behind them, her breathing heavy as she took in the scene. Her eyes widened as they darted between Gabriella and the now-human Malia.

"Holy crap," Erica muttered, a rare flicker of awe in her voice. "You actually did it."

Gabriella glanced over her shoulder at Erica, her expression a mix of exhaustion and relief. "Yeah," she said, her voice steady but quiet. "I did."

[...]

Gabriella walked into her room, exhausted but relieved after the emotional rollercoaster of the evening.

She was still buzzing with the aftereffects of turning Malia back into a human-feeling that same intense power that came from connecting with someone on such a deep, primal level. The woods had felt like a battleground, but in the end, Malia was safe.

Sighing, Gabriella flopped onto her bed, letting her mind drift as she stared up at the ceiling. But the moment of peace didn't last long.

Her phone buzzed loudly beside her on the nightstand.

She groggily reached for it, her hand brushing against the screen.

The caller ID flashed an unknown number.

Frowning, Gabriella hesitated. She wasn't in the mood for strange calls-especially not tonight. But something compelled her to pick up.

She swiped the screen and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, then a deep, familiar voice. "Gabriella..."

Her heart skipped. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, a cold shiver running down her spine. That voice-it was unmistakable.

"Deucalion," she replied, her tone flat, guarded.

He let out a slow breath, almost as if savoring her recognition. "It's been a long time," he said. "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But I've changed, Gabriella. I'm not the same person I was when we last saw each other."

Gabriella narrowed her eyes, pushing herself up in bed, her fingers tightening around the phone. "You think I'm going to fall for this? You think I'm just going to forget everything you did?" Her voice was tight, but there was no masking the hurt and fury that laced her words.

Deucalion's voice softened, a touch of sincerity slipping through. "I know I can't undo the past. But I've spent a long time reflecting on my mistakes. I've changed, Gabriella. And I want to have a relationship with you. I want us to be a family again."

A bitter laugh escaped Gabriella. "A family? You killed boyd and lucas, forced me to kill my mom, and destroyed everything I had. You think I want a relationship with you?" The words tasted like poison on her tongue. "You're a monster, Deucalion. Nothing has changed."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Gabriella could almost hear him trying to collect himself. "I know I can never make up for what I've done. But please... give me a chance to prove that I'm not the same man. Let me show you that I can be a father to you. I want us to be something real. I want you in my life."

Gabriella's eyes burned with unshed tears, the weight of everything crashing down on her.

She clenched her jaw, her pulse racing. She had hoped, prayed, that Deucalion would never come back into her life. But now, here he was, trying to worm his way in, with his smooth words and promises of change.

"I don't need you," Gabriella said, her voice cold and unwavering. "And I don't want anything from you. Stay away from me, Deucalion."

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, Gabriella thought he might have hung up.

But then, just before she could disconnect the call, his voice came through again, softer, tinged with something that might have been regret-or maybe just the remnants of his old arrogance "I'll give you time, Gabriella. But I'll be here when you're ready."

The line went dead before she could say another word. Gabriella stared at the screen, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Anger. Hurt. Confusion.

Part of her wanted to throw her phone across the room, but she kept it in her hand, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned white.

Deucalion had always been a monster, and nothing he said would ever change that. But somehow, hearing his voice again felt like the echo of a nightmare she couldn't escape.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriella stood and walked to the window, looking out into the darkened night. No matter what Deucalion said, she knew she couldn't let him back in. But that didn't stop the fear from creeping into her chest, or the haunting thought that he might one day come for her again.