The human monster of teen wolf

Allison's POV

I left Kai's house in a hurry, slamming the door behind me, my heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. I fumbled with my keys, hands shaking as I got into my car. The moment the engine roared to life, I gripped the steering wheel tight, staring blankly ahead.

Werewolf hunters.

My family.

My dad. Aunt Kate.

The thoughts hit me like waves, relentless and suffocating. My boyfriend is a werewolf. Scott—sweet, awkward, caring Scott—had been hiding this from me all along. And now there's an Alpha in our town, killing people like it's nothing.

I pulled out of Kai's driveway, driving on autopilot. The roads blurred past as my mind raced with memories, little things that didn't seem important before: the weird conversations my dad had late at night, Aunt Kate's cryptic comments about "protecting the family," the strange weapons I found in the trunk once—he said it was "for camping." Camping? Who needs crossbows for camping?

My grip on the wheel tightened until my knuckles turned white. What else have they been hiding from me?

I thought about Scott—his face when he transformed, the fear in his eyes not because of what he was, but because he was afraid of how I'd react. He wasn't the monster here.

I reached a red light and slammed my hands against the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated scream. I felt like my entire life was a lie.

When I finally got home, I sat in the car for a few more minutes, staring at the front door. It looked the same as always, but now it felt different—like there was a barrier between me and everything I thought I knew.

I took a deep breath, wiped my face, and got out. I need answers. Real ones. And if my dad won't give them to me…

I'd find them myself.

Kai's POV

The morning sun peeked through my blinds, casting faint stripes of light across my room. I groaned softly, dragging myself out of bed and into my usual routine—quick shower, basic breakfast, and the same hoodie I always wore when I didn't care to impress anyone. But as I moved through the motions, my mind kept drifting back to last night.

It went well, I thought. Allison didn't spiral like I'd feared. If anything, she seemed more grounded, more aware. I'd like to think I helped her see through her Aunt Kate's manipulation, even if it was just a crack in the armor. Small victories.

I grabbed my keys and headed out, the morning chill biting against my skin. Driving through town felt oddly peaceful, like the calm before a storm I couldn't quite predict. That's when I spotted Isaac walking along the road, shoulders hunched against the cold, his bag slung low like it weighed more than just books.

I pulled over.

"Yo, need a ride?"

He hesitated for a second, then nodded, sliding into the passenger seat with a small, grateful smile.

We talked about random stuff—lacrosse practice, school, teachers who assigned way too much homework. But when he turned slightly, the faint bruise near his jaw caught my eye. A flicker of dark purple, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

His dad again.

I clenched the steering wheel a little tighter. I'd forgotten about the abuse with everything else going on. But now that I'd seen it, I couldn't unsee it. I'll deal with that. Soon.

We got to school, and the day unfolded like any other. Classes, the buzz of hallway gossip, the same routine. Until Scott found me between periods, his face pale, eyes darting like he expected someone to be listening.

"Jackson knows," he blurted, voice sharp with panic.

I froze, my mind snapping to attention.

"Knows what exactly?" I asked, though my gut already knew the answer.

"About me. The werewolf thing," Scott whispered, glancing around like the walls had ears.

I sighed, shutting my locker with a dull thud.

Of course, Jackson. The guy's like a shark—smells blood from a mile away.

"How?" I asked, my voice low.

Scott shook his head, frustrated.

"I don't know, but he's been acting weird. Like he's got some kind of leverage."

Great. Jackson wasn't just a problem; he was the kind of problem that didn't know how to leave things alone.

I took a deep breath, forcing my mind to stay sharp.

"Okay. First, we figure out what he knows and how he found out. Then we'll handle it. Whatever it takes."

Because one thing was clear—Jackson Whittemore wasn't someone we could afford to underestimate.

Scott caught me up quickly, his words tumbling over each other like he couldn't get them out fast enough.

"Derek's alive," he said, his voice low but urgent. "He's been chasing the Alpha, trying to find out who it is. Stiles and I… we've been helping him. Last night, after we left your place, we got a clue."

I raised an eyebrow, my mind racing to keep up.

"A clue? Like what?"

Scott glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping. The hallway was crowded, but the constant chatter worked in our favor—no one paid attention unless you gave them a reason to.

"There's something about Allison's necklace. Derek thinks it's connected to the Alpha somehow," Scott explained, his brows furrowed in that 'I'm totally in over my head' way he always had when things got serious.

"This is simple we go to Allison and ask for it," I said

Scott looked uneasy, running his hand through his hair, clearly not convinced.

"Yeah, but what if she freaks out? I mean, we're already walking a thin line after everything we told her."

Before I could talk again, Stiles appeared out of nowhere, as usual, slightly out of breath.

"Oh, perfect. Conspiracy corner is back in session," he quipped, then glanced at Scott. "Did you tell him? About the necklace?" 

Scott nodded.

"Yeah, and Kai thinks we should just ask for it."

Stiles gave me a look that screamed, 'Are you serious?'

I shook my head, staying calm.

"Look we have to be honest. No more secrets, no more half-truths. If we want her to trust us, we need to show her we trust her first."

Stiles chimed in, leaning against the lockers with his usual sarcasm.

"Wow, look at Kai, the wise supernatural life coach. But seriously, what if she says no?"

I shot him a look.

"Then she says no. We'll figure out another way. But I don't think she will. Allison's smart, and she cares about Scott. She'll understand if we're upfront with her."

Scott let out a breath, nodding slowly. "Okay. You're right. We'll talk to her at lunch"

I clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good. Stick to the plan. Be honest, keep it simple, and don't overthink it."

Stiles grinned.

"Yeah, Scott. No wolfing out mid-conversation."

Scott rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Let's just get through the day first."

As we headed to class, I couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation with Allison was going to be more complicated than any of us expected.

we went to lunch Before sitting down, I made my way over to my friends. They were gathered at our usual spot, laughing about something I'd probably missed on the way here. I cleared my throat to get their attention.

"Hey, I'm sitting with Scott and Stiles today," I said casually, trying to keep my tone light like it was no big deal.

they all nodded without much reaction, clearly not bothered.

I turned and made my way over to Scott and Stiles. They were already sitting at a table, nervously glancing around like they were plotting something—which, honestly, they kind of were. Scott spotted Allison across the cafeteria and gave her a small, hopeful wave. Stiles nudged him, whispering something that made Scott roll his eyes.

Eventually, Allison walked over, looking curious but cautious. She sat down, her posture a little stiff.

We all exchanged quick, awkward greetings before Stiles blurted out, "Okay, so, we need to talk about something."

Here we go.

"We need your necklace," I said, cutting straight to the point. No reason to dance around it.

Allison furrowed her brows, her fingers instinctively reaching for the silver pendant resting against her chest. "Why?" she asked, suspicion laced in her voice.

"It can help us find out who the Alpha is," Scott chimed in quickly, his tone serious but gentle, trying to ease the tension.

Allison's eyes darted between us, clearly confused and a little guarded. "How? It's just a necklace. It belonged to my aunt—it's important to me."

Stiles leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Yeah, about your aunt… there's more to her than you think. We think the Alpha left a clue, something tied to her. Your necklace might help us find it."

Allison's grip on the necklace tightened. I could see the conflict written all over her face. She trusted us—at least, she wanted to—but this was personal. The silence between us grew heavy, broken only by the faint noise of the cafeteria in the background.

I sighed, leaning in a little. "Allison, we're not trying to take it from you forever. Just for a little while. We'll give it back as soon as we're done. But if we're right, this could help us stop the Alpha before someone else gets hurt."

She looked at Scott, her gaze softening for a second before hardening again. "You're asking me to trust you with something that's been in my family for generations."

Scott nodded, his eyes earnest. "I know. And I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

After a long pause, Allison finally exhaled sharply, her fingers relaxing around the necklace. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But you better bring it back."

I gave her a small, reassuring nod. "We will. Promise."

As we were getting ready to leave, Allison's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"You know a lot about the supernatural world," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly, studying me like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Yes?" I replied, keeping my tone casual, though I could sense there was more behind her words.

She hesitated for a second, then took a small step closer. "I need answers. About the supernatural world… and my family."

There was something in her voice—an edge of vulnerability mixed with determination. She wasn't just curious; she needed the truth.

"Okay," I said, nodding. "We can talk anytime. Just let me know when you're ready."

Allison held my gaze for a moment longer, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. As we walked out, I couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation was going to be more important than either of us realized.

After everything was said and done, I left school the afternoon sun was low in the sky as I pulled up to Isaac's house, my jaw clenched with a simmering rage I hadn't fully processed until now. I thought about the mark on Isaac's face, the quiet way he carried himself, the fear behind his eyes he tried to hide. Enough was enough.

I walked up to the door, my fists already tight. When his dad answered, the stench of alcohol and bitterness hit me like a wall. There was no need for words—not at first. My anger spoke for me.

It wasn't a fight. It was a message. I made sure he understood, every blow punctuating the promise I delivered after: "If you ever touch Isaac again, I'll make sure everyone knows exactly who you are. Not just here. Everywhere."

I left him there, crumpled and gasping, his own fear now etched into his face.

Driving away, I felt the adrenaline start to fade, but the fire inside me stayed. Isaac deserved better. This wasn't just about werewolves, hunters, or supernatural threats. This was personal.

I'd do it again if I had to.