POV: Leo Stilinski
If there was one thing reincarnation taught me, it was that knowing the future didn't make waiting any easier.
The day after my second confrontation with Peter Hale dragged on like a bad dream you couldn't wake up from. Everything looked normal—Beacon Hills High buzzing with students, teachers pretending to care, Stiles talking enough for three people—but underneath it all, I could feel the tension building. Like the air itself was winding tight, ready to snap.
Scott was late.
That alone made my jaw clench.
Scott McCall was never late unless something was wrong.
Stiles noticed it too. He kept checking his phone, bouncing his leg like it owed him money. "Okay, this is not funny. Scott doesn't just disappear. If he did, it would be with a text. Or a panic call. Or both."
I leaned back against a locker, forcing myself to look relaxed. Inside, every instinct I had was screaming. "Where was he last night?" I asked.
"With his mom," Stiles replied. "At least, that's what he said."
That lined up with canon. Which meant the deviation was coming.
I closed my eyes briefly and listened. Not just to the hallway, but beyond it. Through walls. Through distance. My hearing stretched outward like ripples in water. I caught snippets—heartbeats, footsteps, lockers slamming—but no Scott.
Then, finally, a familiar scent drifted in.
Human. Nervous. Scott.
He rounded the corner at a jog, breathless, eyes wide. "Sorry—sorry—I had to take my mom's car to work and—" He stopped short when he saw my face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you're late," Stiles snapped. "And because Leo looks like he's deciding whether to ground you or eat you."
"I don't eat people," I muttered.
"Comforting," Scott said weakly.
We headed to class together, but I stayed half a step behind Scott the entire time. Protective positioning. Automatic. I hated that part of myself—the predator that decided where I stood without asking me—but it was useful.
By fourth period, I was sure of it.
Tonight was the night.
Not because of a calendar or some glowing warning sign, but because the world felt aligned in that awful, inevitable way. Peter was circling. Scott was vulnerable. And I was standing at the edge of a choice that could shatter everything.
Let the bite happen.
Or stop it—and rewrite the future completely.
Lacrosse practice ended late.
I waited near the bleachers, pretending to scroll through my phone while tracking Scott's every movement. He jogged off the field, sweaty and exhausted, face lit with that familiar mix of determination and self-doubt.
"Hey," he said. "You don't play, right?"
"Not my thing," I replied. "Too many rules."
He laughed. "Fair." Then his smile faded. "Listen… do you ever feel like something bad is about to happen? Like you're walking into it?"
I looked at him for a long moment. The future Alpha. The kid who would save everyone.
"Yes," I said honestly. "All the time."
Scott nodded like that meant more than he let on. "I'm heading into the preserve tonight. Just to… clear my head."
There it was.
I kept my voice calm. "Don't go alone."
"I won't," he promised.
That was the lie that sealed it.
Night fell fast.
I followed Scott into the woods without him knowing. Not because I didn't trust him—but because I trusted the timeline even less.
The preserve came alive at night. Sounds sharpened. Shadows stretched. And beneath it all, the Alpha presence loomed like a pressure on my chest.
Peter was close.
I shifted my senses outward just as Scott stepped off the trail.
Then it happened.
A blur of movement. A snarl that split the night. Scott's scream.
I moved—but not fast enough.
Peter slammed into Scott, claws tearing, teeth sinking into flesh.
The bite.
Canon snapped into place.
I surged forward, letting just enough of my power leak through to be terrifying. I didn't fully shift, but my eyes burned gold, my voice dropping into something feral.
"That's enough."
Peter recoiled, startled more by my presence than my words. He vanished into the trees, leaving Scott crumpled on the forest floor.
I knelt beside him, heart pounding—not with fear, but with consequence.
"I'm here," I said, gripping his shoulder. "You're going to survive this."
Scott looked at me, eyes glassy. "Leo… what did he do to me?"
I swallowed.
"He changed your life."
And ours.
As the moon rose higher, I felt the shift begin.
The future had officially started.