Beacon Hills – Morning
It was a normal day in Beacon Hills. A thirteen-year-old boy was sleeping soundly in his bed.
He was about 1.65 meters tall — surprisingly muscular for his age, with broad arms and a strong build.
Suddenly, a beautiful woman entered the room. She was about 1.70 meters tall, with brown eyes, black hair, a small perfect nose, and soft lips.
She was the boy's aunt — Melissa McCall.
"Alex! Wake up! It's already ten a.m. You've slept enough!" she called out.
"Mmm… just one more minute, Aunt Melissa… ahh waffles… I love waffles with strawberries…" Alex mumbled half-asleep.
Melissa rolled her eyes, grabbed the blanket, and yanked it off him. Alex tumbled off the bed and hit the floor.
"Aaahhh, I wanna sleep more!" he groaned.
"Nope! No more sleeping. Get up, go wash your face — breakfast is waiting," she said firmly.
"Alright, alright, I'm up," Alex grumbled.
"Good. And hurry up — you're going shopping with Scott and Stiles today. School starts tomorrow," she reminded him with a serious look.
"Stiles?" Alex repeated.
"Oh, right — you've never met him before. He's Scott's best friend. They've known each other since they were eight. Now go, before your breakfast gets cold."
Alex headed to the bathroom, muttering to himself, Who names their kid Stiles? He also couldn't understand how his cousin Scott even had friends.
Scott? The shy one? The guy who barely talks? That's… weird.
Of course, Alex didn't know that one day, that same cousin he underestimated would become the True Alpha — one of the strongest werewolves in the supernatural world.
After a shower, Alex got dressed in blue jeans and a light brown hoodie. He looked in the mirror and smirked.
"Damn… this man is hot," he said to himself, grinning.
In the reflection stood a fit, muscular teen with brown hair, slightly brown eyes, a defined jawline, and sharp cheekbones — a younger, male version of Hayley Marshall herself.
Alex went downstairs to the kitchen. Breakfast was ready, and Melissa was washing the dishes.
He sat down, picked up his fork and knife, and started eating. "Mmm, your food is always amazing, Aunt Melissa," he said between bites.
"Thanks, honey. Don't forget to wash your hands when you're done," she replied.
"No problem. By the way, where's Scott?"
"He's with Stiles. They'll come pick you up in about thirty minutes. Not everyone sleeps half the day like you do."
"Come on, Aunt Melissa, you know I'm tired from that sixteen-hour drive from Mystic Falls," Alex said with a half-smile.
"Alright, alright, I'm joking," she chuckled.
"None taken," Alex laughed.
He finished breakfast, washed his hands, and opened his laptop. Soon, the familiar face of Jeremy Gilbert appeared on the screen.
"Alex!!! How are you? How's the new place? Is it good? Where's Aunt Melissa? Where's Scott? Can you show me the house? I've never seen her new place before! Can you? Can you? Can you?!"
Jeremy's voice came rapid-fire from the laptop.
"Whoa, whoa—slow down, Jeremy," Alex laughed. "One question at a time."
He answered each of Jeremy's questions patiently. When he finished, Alex asked, "So, where's Elena?"
Jeremy's face twisted with frustration. "She went out with Matt Donovan."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Okay… and?"
Jeremy leaned closer to the camera, his voice rising. "Alex, I think Elena likes Matt! They're dating!"
Alex burst out laughing. "Jeremy, no way. Elena's fourteen! She's not dating anyone anytime soon."
Jeremy's face instantly turned into the 'are you serious right now?' look.
"I saw them kissing, Alex! What are you talking about?!"
Alex froze, then shouted, "WHAT?! No way! How dare he?! Jeremy, you were supposed to stop that from happening! You useless kid!"
Jeremy gasped in disbelief. "What do you mean, useless kid?! I'm twelve! I'm not a kid!"
"A twelve-year-old is still a kid, Jeremy."
"Then you're a kid too—you're only thirteen!"
"I'm different," Alex said proudly. "I'm the strongest boy in Mystic Falls. Even eighteen-year-olds can't beat me. I'm not a kid—I'm a man. A big, muscular one."
Jeremy's face went red. "You're not a man! You're a—"
He let out a string of censored curses. "You're a #%@&$!"
Alex's jaw dropped. "What did you just—? You little—! You're a #%$@ too!"
"BOYS!!!"
Both froze.
"Oh no," Jeremy whispered. "Dad's coming."
Grayson Gilbert appeared behind him, furious. "What did I just hear from you?!"
Jeremy went pale. "Ah, crap. I'm screwed."
Alex smirked. "I'm miles away, you can't touch me!"
"Dad, wait—I can explain!" Jeremy cried, but Grayson had already pulled his belt from his jeans.
"Explain it to this, young man!"
Alex clasped his hands dramatically. "A moment of silence for my fallen brother. He was a good kid."
Jeremy's cries echoed through the call as the sounds of belt-strikes filled the background. "MOM! MOM! Dad's hitting me again!"
And then—the lioness appeared.
"Grayson! What the hell are you doing to my baby?!" shouted Miranda Gilbert, storming in.
Grayson sighed, defeated. "Ah, hell no… not again."
Alex whispered solemnly, "And now, a moment of silence for Grayson. He was a good father."
After a one-sided massacre (led by Miranda, of course), peace finally returned to the Gilbert household.
Jeremy sat rubbing his back, pouting; Miranda scolded both him and Grayson again for good measure.
Soon, the atmosphere softened. They all started laughing together — the perfect picture of a chaotic but loving family.
(Grayson muttered quietly to himself: "I'll tell God everything.")
They talked for a while longer. Miranda and Grayson checked in on Alex, asking how he was settling in.
Sadly, Elena wasn't home, but at least he got to see the rest of his family.
Before ending the call, Jeremy said softly, "I miss you, Alex. It's only been a day, but it feels like forever."
Alex smiled. "I miss you too, Jeremy. And remember — no matter what happens, I'll always be your brother and your friend. Even if the whole world turns against you."
Miranda and Grayson shared a quiet, proud look. They didn't say a word, but their eyes said everything — they didn't regret adopting Alex and Elena for a single moment.
The call ended with cheerful goodbyes.
Not long after the call ended, the sound of a car horn echoed outside.
Alex peeked through the window and saw a blue Jeep parked in front of the house.
Scott stepped out, waving at him, while a brown-haired boy sat behind the wheel, drumming on it impatiently.
"That must be Stiles," Alex muttered, grabbing his hoodie before heading downstairs.
Melissa looked up from the sink. "Scott's here already? Good. Be careful, and don't let them talk you into anything stupid!"
"No promises!" Alex said playfully as he ran out the door.
Outside, Scott greeted him with a nervous smile. "Hey, Alex. This is Stiles."
The boy in the Jeep leaned out the window. "Sup, kid! You must be the cousin Melissa was talking about. Welcome to Beacon Hills — land of mystery, wolves, and bad Wi-Fi."
Alex chuckled.
"Nice car."
"Ha! You're the first person to say that. Usually people call it 'the death trap.'"
Stiles grinned. "Hop in, muscle man."
The three spent the afternoon shopping for school supplies — notebooks, clothes, and snacks that Stiles swore were "vital for surviving middle school."
The hours passed quickly; laughter filled the car as they drove through Beacon Hills' quiet streets.
By the time they returned, night had already fallen.
It was a full moon that night.
As Alex entered his room, a strange heat rushed through his veins. His heartbeat grew louder, faster. His vision flickered red, and a deep anger rose from somewhere inside him — primal and uncontrollable.
He clenched his fists, breathing heavily. "Not again…" he whispered.
He remembered his mother's words from years ago — "When the anger comes, don't fight it. Breathe. Control it."
Flashback – Three Years Earlier
Alex was ten years old when it first happened. He'd gotten into a fight at school and beaten a boy badly.
That evening, Miranda had noticed the change in his eyes — the glow, the trembling — and she knew his werewolf genes were beginning to awaken, just as his real mother had warned.
"Come on, Alex," Miranda said gently. "Do as I do. Put your hands on your toes, bend forward, breathe in… and out… inhale… exhale…"
Alex scowled. "What do these stupid poses do, old lady? Are you making fun of me?"
Unbothered, Miranda kept demonstrating. "Again. Deep breath. Focus."
He tried to storm off, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back into position. It wasn't easy — he kicked, shouted, even bit her twice — but she didn't stop until he calmed down.
Eventually, Alex sat cross-legged on the floor, exhausted but peaceful. That day, he learned the first steps of controlling his rage.
[ Back in the Present ]
Now thirteen, Alex inhaled deeply and began one of his advanced yoga techniques.
He slipped one arm under his thigh, raised the other leg high above his head, and balanced on one hand. His body trembled, sweat dripping down his neck.
He held the pose, breathing slowly, until the fire inside him began to fade.
Just then — the door creaked open.
Scott stepped in, mid-sentence, "Hey, I just—"
He froze, jaw dropping. "What… are you doing?"
Alex lost balance and crashed to the floor. "Scott! Do you ever knock?!"
"Sorry! I just needed—"
"Needed what?!" Alex snapped, glaring. "What could you possibly need at midnight?"
Scott raised his hands. "Calm down, dude!"
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
In an instant, Alex lunged forward, grabbed Scott by the shirt, and lifted him effortlessly off the ground before tossing him onto the bed.
Scott gasped in shock. He barely had time to breathe before Alex charged again, jumping across the room in one superhuman leap.
He swung a fist, aiming for Scott's face—but Scott managed to raise a pillow just in time.
Alex's punch tore straight through it, stopping an inch from Scott's nose.
Scott stared at the hole in the pillow, horrified.
"Is this kid even human?!"
Before he could react, Alex grabbed him again and slammed him against the wall.
Scott ducked, barely avoiding the next punch — which shattered the wooden paneling with a deafening crack.
Scott's face turned pale.
"Alex! It's me — your cousin! Calm down! Please!"
Alex froze, panting. He looked at Scott's terrified face… and suddenly, the reality of what he'd done hit him.
He'd almost hurt his cousin. He took a deep breath, stepped back, and forced himself into the breathing pose his mother had taught him.
Scott sat on the floor, clutching his inhaler, trembling as he stared at the broken wall.
"Is this… really a thirteen-year-old?" he whispered.
After a few minutes, Alex exhaled, calmer now. He looked at Scott apologetically and extended his hand.
"Are you okay?"
Scott flinched away. "Okay? You almost killed me! Are you insane?!"
Alex's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to. It just—happens. I can't control it sometimes."
Scott stood, still shaking. "my mother has no idea what's living in her house. You could've smashed her face if she walked in instead of me!"
Alex looked genuinely terrified at that thought. "No! I'd never hurt Aunt Melissa. Please, Scott, don't tell her. Please… I can't go back. I have nowhere else to go."
Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"
"They banished me from Mystic Falls," Alex said, voice trembling. "After what I did to Tyler Lockwood. I didn't mean to hurt him that badly, but… they wanted to take me to juvie. My mom begged Sheriff Liz Forbes for mercy, so they let me leave town instead.
If Aunt Melissa kicks me out, I'll have nowhere to go. Please, Scott… don't tell her."
Tears filled Alex's eyes, and Scott hesitated.
For the first time, he saw past the strength — saw a scared, broken kid who'd been through hell.
Scott sighed. "Alright, Alex. Sit down. Tell me what's going on with you."
Scott sat on the edge of the bed, his chest still rising and falling quickly. The smashed wall behind him was proof of how close he'd been to disaster.
He looked up at Alex, who sat across from him, hands trembling, eyes red with guilt.
"Alright," Scott said quietly. "Talk to me. What's going on with you? Why are you so… angry?"
Alex hesitated, staring at his hands. Then, slowly, he began to speak.
"I get angry. A lot. Sometimes for no reason. And once a month, it gets worse… so much worse."
He took a deep breath. "It started when I was five. My uncle John—he forced me to train. Hard. Like, brutal training. Fights, push-ups, lifting things way too heavy for a kid. He used to say it was important, but he never told me why. If I slowed down, he'd… punish me."
Scott frowned. "Punish you? He—hurt you?"
Alex nodded. "He said it would make me strong. That it was all a game. I didn't know any better. I thought it was normal. When he finally left Mystic Falls, I kept training on my own. I couldn't stop—it was like my body needed it."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Then the anger started. I'd lose control over the smallest things. Mom noticed it when I turned ten… and that's when she started teaching me yoga. Meditation. Anything to calm the beast inside."
Scott's brow furrowed. "The beast?"
Alex looked him in the eye. "You ever feel like something's… living inside you? Something that's not just anger, but something wild? Like if you lose focus for one second, it'll tear its way out?"
Scott didn't answer. And didn't know what to say.
Alex continued. "For two years, yoga worked. I thought I'd beaten it. But three weeks ago, it came back. Stronger than ever. Because of Tyler Lockwood."
Scott's eyes widened. "The mayor's son? What happened?"
"He picked a fight with Jeremy. I told him to back off, but he kept pushing. I… snapped. I hit him — once. Just once. But it broke his jaw, his nose, and three ribs. They said it was like getting hit by a truck."
Alex's voice broke. "I didn't mean to hurt him that badly. I just… lost control."
Scott leaned back, processing everything.
Finally, Scott sighed. "Okay. Look, I get it. You've been through a lot. I won't tell Mom. But you need to learn to control this. For real this time."
Alex nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Scott. I promise, I'll try."
"Good," Scott said, standing up. "Now, about why I came here in the first place…"
Scott glanced at the window. "Stiles called me earlier. Said he needs me and it an emergency. He wouldn't stop panicking. I have to go meet him."
"At midnight?" Alex asked. "Seriously?"
"I know, I know," Scott said quickly. "But my mom put cameras all over the house. If I sneak out the door, she'll see me. The only way out is through your window."
He started toward the window, then turned. "Come with me. Fresh air might help you. Besides, if you're really struggling with that anger thing, the woods are better than staying here and breaking another wall."
Alex hesitated. The full moon outside glowed brighter than ever, painting the world in silver light. Every instinct told him to stay put — but something deep in his chest stirred, calling him out into the night.
"…Fine," Alex said finally. "But if Aunt Melissa wakes up and asks where we are, you're taking the blame."
Scott grinned. "Deal."
They climbed out the window and landed quietly on the grass below. The air was cool, the wind carrying the faint scent of pine and wet earth.
Beacon Hills slept peacefully — unaware that two teenagers were walking straight toward danger.
Scott led the way through the forest path. "Stiles said he saw glowing eyes in the woods. Probably just some animal, but… you know Stiles."
"Yeah," Alex muttered. "He doesn't seem like the 'calm' type."
They walked deeper into the forest. The moonlight shimmered through the trees, and the silence around them grew heavy.
Every sound — every snap of a twig — made Alex's heartbeat quicken.
Alex followed his cousin without realizing that this decision would change his entire life.