Iván let out a sigh. Now really isn't the time…
He glanced back at the naked girl lying in the grass. She was still, breathing lightly. Carefully, he stepped closer and sniffed—taking in her scent. Definitely a werewolf. Whatever she had been before—coyote or otherwise—something he did must've broken the form she was stuck in.
But who is she?
She stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at him. Fear flickered across her face—or maybe just confusion. Her instincts were sharp, animalistic even, as if she wasn't sure if she was still herself.
Iván, meanwhile, tried very hard not to look at… those parts of her. Not helping was the pendant around his neck, which for some reason decided now was a good time to start mocking him, flickering with faint warmth like it was laughing.
Focus. Help her.
He reached out with his mind, trying to communicate through the hive-link most werewolves shared.
"Hello?" he said gently.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. Who… talking? She glanced around in a low crouch, growling like a wild animal backed into a corner.
"You're safe," he reassured her. "You were stuck as a coyote. I think I helped break your form."
She turned toward him, her body trembling from the cold. Slowly, cautiously, she rose to her feet and stepped forward—then wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself into his thick fur, seeking warmth.
"Warm," she whispered into his chest.
Iván's eyes widened. Well… didn't see that coming.
And now the real question hit him: What the hell do I do with her? Call the police?
No… she's a supernatural being. It'd be better to take her home. Maybe talk to Stiles Dad. He knows about all this now. I probably shouldn't have told him… but hey, if weird stuff is going to happen in Beacon Hills, it's smart to have someone in law enforcement who's actually in the loop. And he is a good person.
He gently spoke through the mind, "Home."
To his surprise, she didn't let go. Instead, she climbed onto his back, her body curling against his fur, trying to vanish into it. He couldn't exactly show up at home like this—especially not with his sister there—but maybe it was time she learned the truth too.
Without a second thought, Iván took off running through the trees. The girl—Malia, a name she said in her mind—clung to him tightly, her thoughts barely forming one word over and over.
Warm. Warm. Warm.
Eventually, Iván reached one of his hidden stashes—an old tree stump with a duffel bag stuffed inside. He lowered himself to the ground and gently nudged her off.
"Change," he told her. She looked confused at first but slowly understood, slipping off his back and examining the extra clothes.
Iván turned around to give her some privacy.
He kept his back to her, focusing on a tree as she put on the oversized T-shirt and shorts. Once she was done, he spoke again.
"Okay, my turn. Don't look."
She didn't respond—but he was quick. In one swift motion, he shifted back into human form and pulled on a black t-shirt and shorts from the bag.
Just as he gently took her hand, ready to lead her home, something unexpected happened. A tree ahead shimmered and twisted unnaturally—then, with a pulse of energy, a portal tore open before them.
Stunned, Iván froze, his instincts taking over. He pulled her close and ducked behind a nearby tree, shielding her from view.
Two Dark wolves burst from the swirling portal, their sleek forms gliding across the forest floor with silent precision. They sniffed the air, ears twitching, alert. Through the hive mind, Iván caught fragments of their conversation.
"Is this the place, brother?" the first wolf asked, scanning the forest.
"You tell me," the second replied.
"Mother said the attacks happened in Beacon Hills. The Alpha took innocent lives, and a vampire we're also slain."
The second wolf growled, clearly annoyed. "Why are we wasting time on this? I'm missing a college party over some nonsense."
"Our orders were clear," he first snapped. "We must uphold the law."
"I don't care who he is. Let's just find him and be done with it."
Without another word, the two wolves darted off into the woods, leaving only silence—and a rising tension—in their wake.
"Holy shit!" Iván hissed as the girl bit his hand while he tried to cover her mouth.
But his attention quickly shifted—werewolves could travel through gates?
He turned to look at the portal, watching in disbelief as it shimmered, then slowly faded—the bark reshaping itself until it looked like nothing more than an ordinary tree again.
"Well… now I've seen everything," Iván muttered under his breath.
But his mind was still racing. They said they were after Peter… He didn't really care about that guy, but figured he should at least give Derek a heads-up. And one of them mentioned college? What kind of werewolf complains about missing a party while hunting someone?
"Doesn't matter," he muttered. "I'm not getting involved—not in whatever mess those two are caught up in."
He glanced over at Malia, who still hadn't said a word since the wolves appeared. Her expression was distant, eyes unfocused. She looked dazed… and deeply shaken.
"Come on," he said quietly, leading her toward his house. I thought things were finally going back to normal… but of course not.
As they reached the doorstep, he hesitated, glancing at the girl beside him.
"Is this technically kidnapping? …Nah, I'm sure it's fine."
He pushed open the door.
"Mom? Uh… we've got a situation."
His mom looked up from the kitchen, eyes locking onto the unfamiliar girl standing awkwardly next to her son.
"Okay, I didn't kidnap her," he said quickly, raising his hands. "She was in the woods—in coyote form. Then she… shifted. Into a girl."
He left out the part about the wolves and the magical portal. One, they weren't after them, so who cared? Two, even if he told his mom that wolves just strolled through a tree like it was a Harry Potter portal, she probably wouldn't be that surprised. Not with all the other weird crap magic stuff she probably experienced.
"Just when I thought things were getting back to normal," his mom muttered, eyeing the girl.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Malia," the girl said quietly.
"I'll call Stiles' dad," his mom said, then turned to Iván. "But first, get her a bath."
"Wait—me?" he asked, pointing at himself.
"Of course not. I'm not letting you anywhere near her." She rolled her eyes.
"I meant turn on the water. I'm pretty sure she knows how a bath works."
His mom looked at Malia. Malia gave a small nod, clearly understanding.