Chapter 2: Wolves, Weirdos, and One Very Hot New Guy

[Stiles' POV – Morning, Beacon Hills High Parking Lot]

I wasn't saying I had trust issues.

I was living them.

"Scott, I swear on all things caffeinated, if you start brooding one more time over the new guy with the jawline from Olympus, I'm gonna start carrying garlic and holy water just in case."

"He's not a vampire," Scott mumbled.

"Exactly what a vampire's accomplice would say."

Scott looked at me like I'd lost my mind, which—fair—but still.

"I'm serious, man. He shows up out of nowhere, gives you cryptic threats in the locker room, and now you're waking up at 2 AM to find him casually brooding outside your window like a bad Batman reboot."

"He didn't say anything," Scott admitted. "He just… sat there."

"Oh good, even less normal."

[Logan's POV – School Hallway, First Period]

Someone was watching me.

Not supernatural. Just annoying.

The tall, twitchy kid—Stiles Stilinski. Eyes like a raccoon on espresso, brain like a conspiracy theorist with a whiteboard fetish.

He blocked my locker. Smiling. Bad sign.

"Hey," he said. "So. Logan, right? That's a cool name. Very... mysterious. Strong. Like a lumberjack who fights bears and feelings."

I raised an eyebrow. "You always this weird?"

"No. Sometimes I'm worse. Depends on the sugar content in my bloodstream."

"Do you want something?"

"Answers," he said cheerfully. "And maybe to confirm you're not a werewolf, demon, or undercover cyborg sent by a secret government agency to observe us."

I stared at him blankly.

"You're not denying it," he added.

"...Not confirming it either."

His eyes widened. "Oh my god, you're Batman."

[Allison's POV – Outside Class]

"So Stiles tried interrogating Logan?" I asked Lydia, laughing.

"Oh, tried is the right word," Lydia replied. "He looked like he was about to have a spiritual awakening when Logan smirked at him."

Truth was, I'd been thinking about Logan all morning. He wasn't just hot—though yes, let's not ignore the obvious here—but he also had this calm chaos vibe. Like if the world ended, he'd light a cigarette, toss on sunglasses, and walk through the flames with absurd levels of sex appeal.

I found myself looking around for him.

And of course—there he was. Leaning against a tree like it owed him money. Arms crossed, jacket open just enough to hint at abs. Dangerous. Distant. Delicious.

"Stop drooling," Lydia said beside me.

"I'm not drooling."

"You're mentally drooling."

Fair.

[Logan's POV – Outside Class, Watching Scott]

Scott was spiraling.

Fast.

His scent was a mess of sweat, panic, and adrenaline. The bite was changing him faster than expected. The Alpha's influence was like a slow poison through his system.

I could see it in his posture. The twitchy nerves. The hunger behind his eyes.

He was going to break.

And I wanted to be there when it happened.

[Coach Finstock – Gym Class, Chaos Edition]

"Alright, you hormonal little creatures, today we play lacrosse! That's right—legalized violence with sticks!"

Stiles whispered to Scott, "Logan's playing."

Scott blinked. "He is?"

Logan stood at the far end of the field, holding the lacrosse stick like it was an accessory to murder. Shirt tight, jaw clenched. Even the stick was afraid of him.

Coach blew the whistle. "Let's see what you've got, Mystery Meat!"

[Lacrosse Field – Game in Session]

I didn't even try.

The ball landed in my stick. The opposing guy charged at me, barking something stupid.

I moved.

A blur. One step.

He hit the grass so hard he bounced.

Everyone froze.

I passed the ball to Scott. "Playtime's yours."

Scott blinked. "Uh… thanks?"

I walked off the field before the whistle blew again.

Coach shouted after me, "You can't just leave in the middle of—who am I kidding? Someone check if that kid's still breathing!"

[Allison's POV – Later That Day]

I found Logan outside the school, crouched near a motorcycle like a scene out of a perfume commercial.

"You know you've got everyone freaked out now, right?" I said, smiling.

He glanced up. "I noticed."

"Lacrosse player, biker, mysterious past—what can't you do?"

He stood. Close now. Close enough I smelled pine, metal, and something wild.

"Normal," he said softly. "I can't do normal."

That caught me off guard.

I tilted my head. "So what's your deal, then?"

"I don't do deals," he said. "But I'll give you advice."

"Oh?"

He leaned closer. "If someone offers you a bite that changes your life? Don't take it."

Then he was gone—just like that. Helmet on. Engine roaring.

Leaving me with too many questions, and not enough answers.

[Derek Hale's POV – Burned Hale House]

He was in Beacon Hills.

I felt his presence like a cold fire on my spine.

Not the Alpha. The other one.

The one who walked like a wolf, but didn't belong to the pack.

He was watching. Waiting.

And when the time came, he would choose sides.

And God help the one he didn't choose.

To Be Continued in Chapter 3