Chapter Text
The night in Beacon Hills seemed shrouded in a forced silence, as if even the wind and the nocturnal fauna knew that something terrible was approaching. The air was thick, almost solid, carrying the scent of rain trapped in the sky and the hidden affliction lurking in the corners. The pack advanced in formation and silence along the narrow trails that cut through the city's reserve, immersed in a twilight that concealed more than it revealed.
Their steps were calculated in sync with their sharp breaths. Every muscle prepared for a confrontation that they all knew would come too soon.
The fight wasn't supposed to happen at night. The pack had planned a meeting at Scott's house, a place to calmly discuss strategies and understand the origin of the new and unknown threat. However, Beacon Hills never gave them the luxury of preparation, always demanding blood first and answers later.
Theo was the last to know. Reluctantly, he was driving toward the Alpha's house when his cell phone vibrated on the passenger seat, the screen illuminating the dark interior of the car.
Liam: Hey!
Liam: Change of plans.
Liam: Head straight to the woods.
Rolling his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, Theo was seriously considering ignoring the werewolf and finding somewhere quiet and dark enough to park his car, and hopefully get a good night's sleep without the police waking him up and Tara disturbing his nightmares – which, in reality, was almost impossible.
The truth was that the chimera didn't even want to be at the meeting. Nobody could stand him for more than five minutes in the same room – and rightly so. After all, who would trust the man who tried to kill Scott and decimate his precious pack?
Nobody. Except Liam.
The friendship between the two arose unexpectedly. Initially, Theo didn't imagine he would so easily escape the punishment imposed by the Skinwalkers, much less that he would be freed by the very beta connected to the reason for his condemnation. After this period, there were disagreements between them, inevitable considering everything they had been through. Even so, the rare moments of tranquility they shared made Theo feel alive as he hadn't felt in years.
After Monroe's fall, the half-coyote planned to leave Beacon Hills without looking back. However, a single smile from the blue-eyed werewolf was enough to make him change his mind and continue wandering the town.
The connection between them grew rapidly: glances exchanged during pack meetings, rides after school – when Theo "by chance" appeared in the parking lot – and nights of games and snacks at Liam's house, along with the puppy pack.
Liam: Theo????
Liam: Don't ignore me, mutt.
Insufferable.
Liam: If you show up, I'll let you play on my Nintendo Switch.
Liam: :D
Theo let out a weak laugh. It was incredible how the younger boy understood him perfectly, without needing to say or do anything. And the same happened with Theo. Just glances, sighs, or simply the frantic beating of Liam's heart were enough for the chimera to realize exactly what was happening. It was as if something connected them, like an imaginary thread.
Thinking about his options, Theo changed direction, heading straight for the Beacon Hills reservation. Raeken wasn't stupid; between spending another night alone in his car with the chance of being haunted by his beloved sister in his dreams, and a comfortable night in the beta's room, with the opportunity to maybe steal some snacks from his house, he certainly chose the second option.
By this point, months after Anuk-ite's attack, Theo slept more in his car than anywhere else. An improvised mattress in the back seat – or rather, two thin blankets and a worn-out pillow – a backpack with three sets of clothes, a toothbrush, and the ghost of his former self occupying all the remaining space.
He needed to support himself with the little money he earned. Occasionally, Theo helped the gas station owner, and in return, the kind man gave him food and, when pity struck, money. It was little, but it was enough.
In truth, the half-coyote didn't expect to earn much money; after all, he was still legally dead, and the citizens of Beacon Hills didn't have a very good track record with supernatural beings. With the money he earned, the chimera could buy cheap food at convenience stores and, when there was anything left over, toiletries that would soon be used in the locker room at Beacon Hills High School.
This was not the future Theo had imagined for himself as a child. Living in an old pickup truck, without food, without money, and tormented by the ghost of his dead sister in his dreams.
He didn't tell anyone. He couldn't. Despite this, he was sure the pack knew and simply ignored the situation. They probably also judged how pathetic the first chimera had become.
The forest was too silent.
It wasn't the usual silence of the night, but the kind of silence that precedes an attack – intense, heavy, almost palpable. The moon barely penetrated the treetops, casting pale rays of light onto the leaf-covered ground. Each shadow seemed to move too fast; each branch, trembling on its own.
“It's close,” said Lydia, her voice low but firm. “I can feel it.”
Theo could smell blood, gunpowder, and ancient magic mingled with the rain in the air. They were blind, lacking sufficient clues to understand the true nature of the threat they faced.
Raeken and Scott led the formation, while Derek covered the rear, when just as a dry crack echoed through the trees. Everyone held their breath and their hearts raced. For a moment, no one said anything; silence reigned, heavier than any sound.
In the blink of an eye, something emerged from the darkness like a living blur. The enemies didn't appear as a single creature, but rather as a coordinated attack that caught the entire group by surprise.
First came the wendigos, bursting from the shadows like hungry shapeshifters, with gleaming white eyes and gaping mouths displaying their fangs while hissing a menacing sound towards the humans in the group. Then, among the trees, the smell of gunpowder intensified, mixed with a herbal odor, similar to aconite. Hunters were positioned at strategic points, preparing arrows and poisoned bullets for the supernatural beings.
And, in the background, almost imperceptible to the others, but perceptible enough to the chimera, a magical, silent, and lethal creature watched every movement attentively, like a predator on the prowl.
The first shapeshifter advanced with superhuman speed, its long, distorted limbs casting grotesque shadows across the forest floor.
“Now!” Scott shouted, taking his position.
The pack sprang into action instantly.
The Alpha charged at the first wendigo ahead of him, the impact making the ground vibrate as it hurled it against a fallen log. Malia followed soon after, sliding across the ground with precision and eliciting a scream from the creature with a right-hand strike.
Lydia rushed to provide support, narrowly dodging a poisoned arrow fired by a hunter hidden among the trees. Liam attacked from behind, taking down another wendigo before it reached Mason.
Theo rushed to the left flank, trying to keep up with the frantic pace of the fight, while an invisible weight tightened in his chest – a profound emotional exhaustion, accompanied by genuine worry.
And, in a matter of seconds, the confrontation intensified.
The wendigos attacked in waves, frenzied, their jaws snapping with primal hunger. The hunters fired with terrifying precision, forcing the group to keep moving constantly.
The supernatural creature, in turn, watched. Calculated. Awaited the exact moment to act.
Scott was struck by a precise shot, imbued with aconite; the impact hurled him brutally against a tree, taking his breath away with a single blow. Malia staggered, narrowly escaping the sharp fangs of the shapeshifter that lunged at her neck, feeling the wind of the bite brush against her skin. Liam took a half-step back when he noticed three hunters pointing at him at the same time – a slight hesitation, but enough for Theo to notice.
“LIAM!” Theo shouted, lunging at the hunter advancing on the beta.
In response, the werewolf dodged a blow that would surely have broken a bone, while the chimera darted aside, attacking another enemy to break the hunters' formation.
Claws, fangs, and gunshots flew through the air, transforming the reserve into violent chaos, a scene where everything collided at once.
It was in the center of this tumult that she emerged.
The sorceress glided from the shadows like something ancient – a presence that didn't belong to that time or place. She remained rigid, almost ethereal, as if the world itself avoided touching her. The moonlight didn't illuminate her eyes; it disappeared within them, swallowed by a deep glow. A black veil held in her copper hair concealed half of her scarred face, while luminous symbols shimmered on her fingers, pulsing in their own rhythm.
She didn't join the hunters. She didn't guide the wendigos. She didn't even show interest in the pack.
Her true target was someone else.
She was there because of the Dread Doctors' creature. Because of Theo.
As the battle intensified around them, Liam remained too close to Theo. Not on Scott's orders, but simply because he couldn't pull away. He was restless. His gaze constantly sought the other's, driven by an almost instinctive need to protect his friend – even knowing the chimera didn't need it.
Theo, for his part, tried to maintain a firm posture, the arrogant mask he had learned to wear early on to survive. But beneath it, what gnawed at him wasn't just exhaustion, constant pain, or the old guilt – the one he carried since the day he let his sister freeze to death. Now, the weight came from the silence.
The silence of having no one to trust. The silence that settled after the seemingly foolish arguments with Liam – one of the few capable of seeing a trace of humanity in him – and the words Theo had never dared to say.
The silence that followed the pack meetings he was forced to attend, filled with hatred, resentment, and harsh words from Stiles and Malia.
The silence that accumulated in the back of his pickup truck, mixed with the metallic smell of blood and the suffocating dread, whenever he dreamed of his dead sister.
The silence of being hated by everyone. The silence of being the only survivor of his family. The silence of having been left behind, neglected by those he loved most. And the silence of having been used, molded, and manipulated like a puppet.
It was the persistent feeling of being displaced, as if the world had moved on while he remained trapped in the past – with the Dread Doctors, or with Tara, in the Skinwalkers' prison.
It was the fear of being truly seen. The exhaustion of always being the boy who survived, the “successful” experiment, but never the chosen one. Even so, Theo fought with everything that remained inside him.
Then, three wendigos attacked at once.
Argent and Derek tried to hold them off, but the shapeshifters moved too fast, dodging each attack like hungry predators, oblivious to their own pain. Liam ran to the right while Theo took advantage of an opening and advanced, his claws gleaming in the moonlight as they tore at the flank of one of the creatures. He barely noticed when a bullet soaked in aconite struck his right shoulder.
The howl that echoed through the trees was hoarse and muffled, almost inhuman.
And it was at that exact moment that the witch moved. One step after another. Silent, precise, as if the forest itself were opening up to let her through.
The woman's hand rose slowly, drawing ancient symbols in the air, fluid as living smoke, as she uttered words that seemed to derive from Latin. For a brief instant, the symbols shimmered with a faint, treacherous light. Then, the mist appeared.
No one seemed to notice. No one, except Theo.
It was as if only the chimera could see it: a pale, sinuous vapor, creeping intentionally, drawn solely to him.
Theo had no time to react. The shiver came even before any movement. A sharp, deep cold – as if touching his soul directly – held him motionless, frozen, his feet firmly planted on the ground as if invisible roots held him there. Then came the violent dizziness, as if the world had been shaken and put back in its wrong place.
His hands began to tingle. A frigid liquid seemed to rise through his veins, spreading to his chest, where a dull, intense pain settled in his heart. The chimera fell to his knees, closing his eyes tightly to endure the sensation. Finally, a metallic taste, mixed with something strangely sweet, invaded his mouth – not blood, but something stronger. Ancestral.
He began to breathe slowly, as if something – or someone – were sealing his nose and mouth.
When he was on the verge of losing consciousness, a whisper grazed his ear. Opening his eyes, he saw a woman with curly red hair, skin as white as paper, and yellowish eyes. Her hands compressed his airways, preventing him from breathing.
Instinctively, Theo tried to raise his right hand toward the calloused, scarred, and bruised hands that held him. The simple movement, however, made the pain in his heart explode, as if it were being ripped out once more. A gasping groan escaped his lips.
“Theodore Raeken.” the woman said with a smile, seeing the terror in his eyes. “The first chimera. The first experiment. You should never have survived. But you know that, don't you?” she said, sliding her sharp nail across Theo's right cheek. “Don't worry, honey. I'll take care of it... killing all the monsters they created. Starting with you.”
The creature knelt before him and brought one hand toward the half-coyote's heart. Theo shuddered, partly from the memory of Hell, of the punishment inflicted by the Skinwalkers, of having his heart repeatedly ripped out by Tara; partly because he felt the witch's long nails sink superficially into his chest. She traced an unknown symbol on his skin while whispering equally incomprehensible words.
“I’m going to destroy you, Theodore. In the slowest, most painful way possible. And before you know it, you’ll be nothing more than an empty, lifeless body, condemned to succumb to the hell where you always deserved to be.”
She took a step back, only to see a single tear roll down the half-coyote’s cheek. Satisfied, she brought her icy lips to his damp cheek and placed a brief kiss there.
And, in the blink of an eye, the woman vanished, as if she had never existed. Theo barely had time to process what had just happened; the next instant, he was thrown to the ground with a brutal weight on his body.
Unlike before, it was no longer the witch immobilizing him, but a hungry wendigo, ready to sink its fangs into his throat, not caring whether he was human or not. The air escaped Theo’s lungs. He closed his eyes tightly, expecting the worst – until the creature was ripped from on top of him by superhuman strength.
With a deep sigh, Theo opened his eyes in time to see Liam fighting the wendigo that, seconds before, had been on top of him.
Rising quickly, Theo took a stumbling step back after a strong dizziness almost knocked him down again. His eyes blinked, trying to focus. Once. Twice. Three times.
Gradually, the mist left by the sorceress dissipated.
The supernatural beings resumed their attack with renewed violence, and together, the pack finally managed to defeat them. The last shapeshifter fell with a dry thud, while the hunters retreated to reload their weapons and reorganize their ranks.
The victory was ephemeral, temporary, and brought no relief. No one seemed to realize that, while they celebrated the end of the attack, the real danger was already underway.
Something inside him no longer fit. His thoughts were confused, jumbled. His sensations were slowly dissipating, diluted in a confusion of smells he swore he hadn't smelled in ages. Memories came and went, light and disordered, like leaves carried by the wind.
Liam noticed this instantly.
The werewolf rushed to Theo and firmly grasped his arm, stabilizing him when the chimera stumbled.
“Are you alright, Theo?” his voice wavered. It was a real, deep fear. Through carelessness, the beta hadn't protected him as he should have, as he had promised himself thousands of times.
Theo, for his part, was confused. The witch's voice echoed in his mind like a curse, making him shudder as he swallowed hard. Looking around, he noticed some injured members of the pack, Corey watching him with concern, and beside him, someone he never expected to see, not even in his worst nightmares: Josh Diaz, with a crooked smile on his face.
His eyes widened and he shook his head to dispel the dizziness. When he looked at Corey, he was alone – now staring at him strangely, with no one beside him. The chimera sighed deeply and brought his hands to the aconite-coated bullet lodged in his right shoulder.
No one else seemed to have seen the woman who had attacked him. Turning to Liam, still visibly worried, Theo clung to the most plausible explanation: the aconite used by the hunters must be strong enough to cause hallucinations. It was the only way to justify Josh's sudden appearance.
Theo tried to smile, but the gesture came out awkward, distant.
“Yes. Why?” he replied, the provocation arising automatically. “Are you worried about me, little wolf?”
Liam rolled his eyes, annoyed by the attempt at mockery, and turned his attention back to the hunters. But not before noticing the confusion in Theo's eyes. The almost imperceptible tremor in his fingers. The hesitation – something that had never existed in the chimera before.
And behind them, the witch retreated among the trees, satisfied, while the hunters and the cannibalistic shapeshifters simply reorganized themselves, preparing for the next attack.
The spell already coursed through the veins of the half-coyote, silent and relentless. Ruin was no longer a possibility – it was an ongoing process. And there was nothing that could be done.