Chapter 124: Finding Peter's lost Memory 

In the pack house's living room, Scott and his pack sat together, all eyes on Peter. 

Noah frowned. "Talia was a werewolf, right? You said she took a memory from you... I didn't know werewolves could do that." 

Peter said. "It's something only a very powerful Alpha can do. And my sister Talia was a powerful Alpha. But not as powerful as you frea... Friends, I mean friends." 

Looking at Scott and his pack, who were watching him with unkind eyes, Peter cleared his throat awkwardly and said. "Anyway, before she died, my sister stole a memory from me. That memory is locked inside her claws." 

Stiles raised a brow. "Okay... and how exactly are you going to use her claws to retrieve the memory?" 

Peter smirked. "I'm not." 

Then, he turned his gaze toward Lydia. "She is." 

Lydia said. "I don't think I can help you with that." 

Peter said. "Trust me, you can. Because you're a Banshee. You can hear what others can't. You can see what others can't. And you can access memories that are buried deep... even ones that were stolen." 

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "And what makes you think I'd help you? You're not exactly the most trustworthy person, Peter. Maybe Talia took that memory from you for a reason." 

Peter hesitated for a moment before saying. "How about this, find the memory first, then decide whether you want to tell me." 

Lydia tilted her head. "Fair enough... but what's in it for me? I'm not doing you a favor for nothing." 

Peter sighed. "What do you want?" 

Lydia smirked. "I heard you're rich. So, how much are you willing to pay?" 

Peter's eyes narrowed. "Who told you I'm rich?" 

Cora grinned. "I did." 

Peter groaned. "Damn it." He ran a hand down his face before exhaling. "Fine. Twenty thousand." 

Lydia raised a brow and turned away dismissively. "Not enough. I want to take the girls shopping, and twenty thousand is too little. Besides, in order to read sealed memories from a dead person's claws, I'll have to use a lot of my... my..." 

Stiles said quickly. "Psychic powers." 

Lydia snapped her fingers. "Yes! My psychic powers. And I'll be weak for a week or two, so you have to pay more, Peter." 

Peter groaned. "Forty thousand." 

Lydia ignored him and turned to Allison. "So, what were you saying?" 

Allison smiled. "I was talking about buying a new bag." 

Peter huffed. "Fifty thousand." 

Lydia still ignored him. 

Peter clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a hundred thousand! That's my final offer." 

Lydia turned back to him with a victorious smile. "Deal. Send the money first." 

Peter scoffed. "No way. I'm not giving you a hundred grand unless you actually find the memory and tell me about it." 

Lydia snorted. "What I do is not an exact science, Peter. What if I don't find your memory? I'll just be wasting my psychic powers for nothing." 

Peter rolled his eyes. "What psychic powers? You're just making that up. And I'm not stupid enough to lose a hundred thousand dollars for nothing." 

Lydia shrugged. "I'm a Banshee, Peter. And like those fortune-teller scammers, I get paid for the attempt. So, either pay me upfront and I'll try my best to find the memory you're looking for, or go find another Banshee." 

Peter groaned but still sent the hundred thousand dollars to Lydia. As the transaction went through, he muttered. "Are you sure you're not a vampire?" 

Suddenly, Lydia became absentminded, her gaze unfocused. 

Peter frowned at her unresponsive state. "Hey, little girl, what game are you playing? Don't think you can ignore me now that you got the money." 

Scott shot him a glare. "Shut up, Peter. She's in one of her Banshee trances." 

A tense silence filled the room until Lydia finally came back to her senses, her expression troubled. 

Melissa stepped closer, concern etched on her face. "Lydia, what is it? What did you see?" 

Lydia shook her head. "I didn't see anything. But when Peter said vampire, I got this bad feeling... like something terrible is about to happen in Beacon Hills." 

Stiles' eyes widened. "Do you think a vampire is coming to Beacon Hills again?" 

Lydia sighed. "I don't know. Like I said, I didn't see anything... it's just a feeling." 

Scott nodded. "Don't worry about it for now. Focus on finding Peter's memory first." 

Lydia took a deep breath, then grabbed Talia's claws. She closed her eyes and concentrated. 

Minutes passed. Then more. 

Peter, growing impatient, was just about to say something when Lydia's eyes snapped open, glowing red. 

She screamed and threw Talia's claws. 

Peter barely dodged as the claws flew past him and embedded themselves into the living room wall behind him. 

Lydia stood up in a daze, walking toward the claws. She tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something only she could hear. 

Peter hesitated, then took a step forward. "Lydia, what do you hear?" 

Before he could get closer, Deaton placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't interrupt her. She'll tell you when she's done listening." 

Peter clenched his jaw but stayed put, waiting anxiously. 

After what felt like forever, Lydia snapped out of her trance. She pulled Talia's claws from the wall, walked back to the couch, and handed them to Cora. 

Peter's patience had reached its limit. "What did Talia take from me? Tell me what she knew!" 

Lydia sighed. "You're not just an uncle, Peter." 

Peter's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" 

Lydia's voice was calm. "You have a child. With a woman named Corinne. And for some reason, Talia took that memory from you... to protect your child." 

Peter took a sharp breath. "Is it a boy or a girl? Where did she send them?" 

Lydia shook her head. "I don't know." 

Peter's eyes glowed icy blue as he took a threatening step forward. "No, you definitely know more. Tell me!" 

But the moment he moved, he felt a chill run down his spine. 

Lydia's eyes glowed red, and when Peter looked around the room, his breath caught in his throat. 

Except for Rafael, Chris, Deaton, Parrish, and Aiden, every member of Scott's pack was staring at him, their eyes glowing red. 

A wave of terror washed over Peter. 

He quickly raised his hands in surrender. "I'm... I'm sorry. I got... a little emotional." 

Scott's growl was low and dangerous. "I think it's time for you to leave, Peter." 

Stiles smirked. "While you still can." 

Peter swallowed hard. "Yes... I think I should leave too." 

Without another word, he turned and left the ranch, never once looking back. 

To be continued... 😊