The dense air of the Beacon Hills Preserve was unnaturally still.Branches swayed without a sound. The birds had stopped singing. Even the insects dared not chirp.
Six figures moved silently through the underbrush, their flashlights dimmed, rifles gripped tight. They wore tactical gear, mismatched and worn—mercenaries, not professionals. Not hunters in the traditional sense. But killers, nonetheless.
"She's out here somewhere," one of them muttered, checking his phone. The screen glowed with a name written in red: ARIA WOLFE. At the very top of the Deadpool. A number beside it blinked—a bounty higher than anything they'd seen in their bloodstained careers. "Every contact we've called said the same thing. If she's in Beacon Hills, this preserve is where she hides."
"Or hunts," another muttered.
They froze for a moment. The trees above groaned as a breeze rolled through, brushing the canopy. One of them glanced up, hand tightening around the trigger.
Far above, nearly invisible in the shadowy tangle of branches, something moved.
Something alive.
Crouched silently on a massive limb, cloaked in black fur and muscle, was a panther—but not one anyone would find in a zoo or jungle. Its form was impossibly sleek, almost liquid in motion. Midnight black, as if carved from the shadows themselves. Its piercing cobalt blue eyes shimmered in the dark, glowing like twin fires behind a curtain of leaves.
It didn't breathe heavy. It didn't twitch.
It watched.
Waited.
Hunted.
Then came the sound.A low, rumbling growl, like gravel grinding beneath steel. Soft at first. Almost a whisper.
The group spun, weapons raised.
"What the hell was that?"
Another growl echoed—this time from a different direction.
The mercenaries fanned out, unsure where to aim, hearts racing. "She's messing with us…"
"Hold the line. She's just trying to scare us."
The growl became a snarl, more guttural, more primal. It slithered through the trees, bouncing off bark and leaves like a haunting echo.
And then—
THUMP.
The panther dropped from the trees in complete silence, landing just a few feet ahead of them with a heavy, confident step.
She stood before them now—no longer hidden. The Black Panther, her fur rippling like shadow, her tail curling with contained aggression. And those eyes… burning blue, unblinking, locked onto the one who'd dared speak her name.
She growled again, low and slow.
The men froze. The lead merc raised his gun—Too slow.
She lunged.
Not for blood. Not yet.
With impossible speed, she dashed past him, claws barely grazing his thigh—but enough to make him stumble back. The others screamed and fired wildly, but she was already circling, weaving between them like smoke.
A flash of black fur.
A snarl to the left.
A howl of fear.
Within seconds, one of them shouted, "Fall back! FALL BACK!"
Two rifles clattered to the ground as the men broke into a panicked sprint, crashing through the brush, abandoning their gear and their courage behind them. One turned back just once, catching one final glimpse of those eyes watching him from the dark.
He would never forget them.
When the woods fell silent once more, the panther stepped out from the clearing. Her shape shimmered briefly—muscles rippling, fur dissolving into pale skin, claws retracting into human fingers.
Standing in the clearing now was a young woman. Freckles dusted across sharp cheekbones. Long red hair tumbled around her shoulders like fire kissed by the moonlight. Her cobalt blue eyes still glowed faintly, pulsing with residual energy.
Aria Wolfe exhaled slowly, rolling her neck.
"They never learn."
In the soft light of the McCall living room, a heavy silence followed the flicker of Lydia's laptop screen.
The decrypted Deadpool list glared back at them—line after line of names, prices, threats.
Then Scott saw his.
SCOTT MCCALL — $25,000,000
He swallowed hard. "Still surreal."
Lydia didn't respond. She simply scrolled upward.
Stiles leaned in, expecting to see someone familiar—maybe an Alpha, maybe Deucalion.
But what they saw made everyone freeze.
ARIA WOLFE — $35,000,000
Stiles blinked. "That's… that's higher than Scott. Who the hell is Aria Wolfe?"
"I know that name," Derek said suddenly, stepping forward from the corner, his voice low—but not sharp. There was something else behind it. Respect.
"She's a Shapeshifter," he said, locking eyes with Scott. "But not the kind we've seen before. Aria doesn't just change into one creature. She can become any animal she can imagine. Living or extinct."
Stiles blinked. "So… like, she could turn into a hawk or a lion, or—"
"A Sabretooth tiger," Derek finished. "That's her signature. Big. Stealthy. Almost nothing can stop her."
Malia's head lifted at the mention. Her brow furrowed, like something long-buried was clawing its way back to the surface.
"Wait…" she said quietly. "When I was a full coyote… I remember something."
Everyone turned toward her.
"There was this… creature. Huge. But never hostile. It had these long fangs and glowing blue eyes. I didn't know what it was. But it used to visit me sometimes—run with me. It would… play with me. Humor me."
Her voice softened. "It was the only thing that didn't treat me like prey."
Derek nodded, a faint smile ghosting across his face. "That sounds like her."
"So she's not dangerous?" Scott asked carefully.
Derek considered that. "She's powerful. But not cruel. She's only dangerous to those who deserve it. And she's survived things most of us never could."
Lydia tilted the laptop toward Derek. "This says she has a $35 million bounty. Higher than anyone on the list. Higher than Scott."
"She's earned that price," Derek said. "She's not just a Shapeshifter. Aria has a healing factor unlike anything we've seen. I watched her once—impaled, bleeding out—and she was on her feet within minutes. Even Alphas wouldn't heal like that."
Stiles stared at the screen, then back at Derek. "So we're dealing with a girl who can become a prehistoric apex predator, survive being gutted, and who plays tag with coyotes for fun?"
Malia smiled faintly. "She was nice."
Scott leaned forward. "If she's in Beacon Hills… do you think she's a threat?"
Derek shook his head. "Only to the people hunting her."
Scott sat forward, his mind racing with everything Derek had just said.
"Can you get in touch with her?" he asked, voice steady. "Maybe set up a meeting or something?"
Derek nodded slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then a faint, almost nostalgic smile curved at the edge of his lips.
"She was close to my family," he said. "My mother—Talia Hale—she used to call Aria her best friend."
That sent a wave of shock through the room.
Scott blinked. "Wait… your mom? As in… Alpha of the Hale pack, Talia Hale?"
Derek nodded. "They were inseparable. Aria was there often. Quiet. Intense. But kind. I didn't know what she was back then—just that my mom trusted her. Which said a lot."
Scott leaned back, stunned. "So she knew your mom… How old is she exactly?"
Derek hesitated.
Then Lydia, ever the one to connect threads of myth and mystery, spoke up from the couch. "There's an old legend from Druidic lore… about a creature that could take the form of any living being. An animal of shadow, with cobalt eyes that burned in the dark. They called it the Anima Noctis—the Soul of the Night. It would appear before times of great change."
Derek looked at her. There was no smirk or skepticism in his gaze. Only certainty.
"It wasn't just a creature," he said. "It was her."
The room went still.
Even the hum of Lydia's laptop seemed quieter in the weight of his words.
Scott exhaled, trying to keep up. "So she's powerful, ancient, and clearly way beyond any of us. But if your mom trusted her… then maybe she's not the threat we should be worried about."
Derek's smile faded just a bit. "Exactly. But there are hunters coming after her now—she's on the Deadpool. And anyone with thirty-five million dollars on their head… won't stay in the shadows for long."
Scott looked around at his pack, his family.
"Then we need to find her. Before someone else does."
The pack was just about to leave. Scott was pacing, his mind racing through the possibilities of where Aria might be hiding, when Malia suddenly paused. She tilted her head, sniffing the air.
"Something's… familiar," she murmured, her eyes narrowing.
Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath their feet seemed to hum. The front door shuddered, and then—boom—it swung open with a force that rattled the frame.
Everyone turned in unison, eyes widening as a massive Sabretooth tiger stepped into the room, its sleek, muscular body gliding silently across the floor. Its fur was dark, almost midnight-black, and its ice-blue eyes shone with intelligence and a predatory grace. The air around the creature seemed to shift, almost alive with the power it exuded.
Stiles' voice dropped to a whisper, his gaze fixed on the massive feline. "Dude, she just walked through... it's made of mountain ash."
Scott blinked, his heartbeat quickening. "Mountain ash... she can't be a regular shifter."
Malia, though, wasn't looking at anyone else. She was already on the move, her steps quick and eager. She darted toward the creature, excitement bubbling in her chest. "I remember you," she whispered as she approached, extending her hand.
The Sabretooth stopped, sniffing the air. Its nostrils flared, a low growl rumbling in its chest. But then, just as Malia reached out, the creature shifted its weight, brushing its enormous head against her hand in a gesture that was almost affectionate.
Malia smiled brightly, her fingers grazing the Sabretooth's fur. "I knew it was you," she said softly, a light laugh escaping her lips. "You used to visit me when I was a coyote…"
The Sabretooth's eyes softened as it leaned its head into Malia's touch, rubbing affectionately against her, almost as if it had known her forever.
Derek watched, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, but there was something deeper in his gaze. He stepped forward and nodded at the creature.
"Aria, it's good to see you," he said with genuine warmth.
The Sabretooth seemed to recognize the name, its posture relaxing. Then, without warning, the creature's form shimmered in the dim light, and in an instant, the beast shifted into a woman.
Standing before them was a beautiful red-haired woman, her long hair cascading down her back like fire. Her features were striking—high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and a gaze that seemed to pierce through to the soul. Her skin had a soft, porcelain glow, contrasting beautifully with the rich red of her hair and the brightness of her cobalt-blue eyes.
She smiled, her lips curving slightly as she stepped toward Derek, her movements graceful and fluid.
"Hello, Derek," she greeted, her voice smooth and melodic. "You look just like your mother."
Derek's expression softened at the mention of his mother. A distant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as memories of Talia flashed through his mind.
"It's good to see you, Aria," he said quietly, his voice holding a layer of nostalgia.
The woman—Aria—looked up at him, her smile warm but tinged with something deeper. "I've missed this place."
Scott, Stiles, and Lydia stood in stunned silence, unsure how to react to the shift from fierce predator to striking beauty. Malia, still grinning, took a step back, her eyes wide.
"Okay… this is so cool," Malia said, voice full of awe.
Aria's attention turned toward Malia, her eyes flickering with recognition. "I see you've grown… but you always had that wild spirit," she said, her smile widening.
Then, her gaze shifted back to the pack. "And you're Scott McCall," she said, looking him over thoughtfully. "I heard you were the Alpha now."
Scott nodded, still processing the sheer power radiating from Aria.
"Yeah," he said carefully, "but... we're not here to fight. We just need to talk."
Aria tilted her head slightly, a spark of curiosity dancing in her eyes. "Talk, huh?" Her gaze flickered to Derek, who nodded slightly.
"I trust them," Derek said, his voice calm but firm.
Aria smiled again, that same confident, knowing look in her eyes. She walked toward the group, her posture relaxed but with an undeniable grace. She seemed at ease, her movements confident, as though she had all the time in the world.
"I suppose we should talk, then." Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—a sharpness that betrayed the ancient power she held within. "But I'm afraid not everyone here is a friend of mine. So, what's this really about?"
Scott took a breath, trying to steady himself.
"We're just trying to figure out why you're being hunted… and how we can help."
Aria studied him for a long moment, then gave a soft chuckle. "It's never simple, is it? But I suppose we can start with the fact that someone has placed a bounty on my head… and you've all been dragged into it." She stepped back, the atmosphere shifting slightly as she regarded them. "But I'll warn you… I don't owe anyone anything. Not anymore."
Derek nodded, his voice low but firm. "We're not asking for anything, Aria. We just want to keep you out of their reach."
Her gaze softened slightly, but there was still a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "We'll see, won't we?"