𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗣𝗜𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗗 by the urgency in Stiles' voice as he pleaded for Harley's help. Her skepticism regarding his Jeep's reliability didn't deter his persistence. Harley, with a reluctant sigh, grabbed Derek's keys, ready to navigate the night and rescue her distressed friend.

In the dimly lit room at the dealership, Harley reclined against the window, contemplating the unexpected turn of events. Stiles, driven by restlessness, ventured out to explore, leaving Harley alone with her thoughts.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly when Stiles burst back into the room, his demeanor now filled with panic. Struggling to compose himself, he reached for his phone, but his trembling hands betrayed his anxiety. Harley, sensing something amiss, inquired about his well-being.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. Stiles' response was drowned by an abrupt yell, and he crumpled to the ground. Panic set in as he desperately tried to crawl, pleading for Harley's assistance.

"Harley, help him!" he implored, the urgency in his voice matching the chaos unfolding around them. A sense of impending danger loomed as they witnessed a worker facing an inexplicable threat – an unseen force threatening to squeeze the life out of him.

Driven by an instinct to intervene, Harley rushed toward the door, only to find herself confronted by a strange, viscous substance that clung to her hand. The unexpected encounter left her trembling, and she stumbled back against the door, collapsing to the ground.

As Stiles and Harley closed their eyes, bracing for the unknown, a surreal transformation unfolded. The worker's distressing plight gave way to a fantastical manifestation – a green lizard-like creature emerged, marking the beginning of an inexplicable and otherworldly ordeal.
After the perplexing encounter at the dealership, the world seemed to regain its normalcy once Stiles and Harley could move again. Realizing the severity of the situation, Stiles swiftly dialed 911, summoning his father, the sheriff.

As the sheriff arrived, his eyes narrowed with concern. "Look, if there is something you guys don't think you can tell me, you can." he ventured, trying to coax out any hidden information. Stiles, caught in a dilemma, responded with defensive urgency, "You think we're lying?"

"No, of course not. I'm just worried," the sheriff reassured, attempting to bridge the gap. Concern etched his face as he considered the possibility that Stiles and Harley had witnessed something unimaginable.

Stiles, exchanging a meaningful glance with Harley, weighed his words carefully. "Now, if you two saw someone do this, and you're afraid that maybe they're gonna come back and make sure you don't say anything about it..." The unspoken tension hung in the air.

Harley, sensing the unspoken complexities, interjected, "I didn't see anything at all." Stiles followed suit, masking the truth with a deliberate statement. "Can we go now?" Harley inquired, seeking a release from the heavy atmosphere that clung to the room. The sheriff, though still suspicious, nodded in reluctant agreement, granting them permission to leave, leaving behind a lingering sense of uncertainty..

...

Harley ventured into the subway station where Derek seemed to be conducting an impromptu training session. The dim light flickered overhead as she observed Isaac gracefully leaping over obstacles only to be ruthlessly thrown to the ground, repeatedly, alongside Erica.

"Car keys!" Derek's gruff command interrupted the spectacle, and Harley promptly handed over the keys, meeting Derek's scrutinizing gaze. "Where did you go?" he inquired, the intensity of his alpha presence hanging in the air.

"Dropped Stiles off at the dealership," Harley responded, her voice steady. Derek nodded, a tacit acknowledgment of her whereabouts.

Returning his attention to the betas, Derek proposed, "Does anyone wanna do something less predictable?" Erica seized the opportunity, jumping onto Derek and surprising Harley. Uncomfortable with the display, Harley whispered, "What the hell." Derek promptly pushed Erica away, delivering a stern warning, "That's the last time you do that."

"Why? Because I'm a beta?" Erica challenged, to which Derek replied, "No, because I have someone else in mind for you." Harley exchanged a glance with Erica, curiosity lingering in her expression.

"Are we done? 'Cause I got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal," Isaac remarked, and Derek nodded, allowing the betas a momentary reprieve.

Derek, taking charge, made Isaac extend his hand and swiftly broke it. "101. You think I'm teaching you how to fight, huh? Look at me! I'm teaching you how to survive," Derek declared, his words resonating with gravity. Harley observed Isaac, recognizing the transformative nature of their training.

"If they wanted us dead, why aren't they coming for us now? What are they waiting for?" Isaac questioned, prompting Harley to ponder in silence.

"I don't know, but they are planning something, and you, especially, know that that's not the only problem. Whatever the thing was that killed Isaac's father, I think it killed someone else last night," Derek divulged. Harley absorbed the information, sensing the looming shadows of unknown threats.

"Till I find out what it is, do you all need to learn everything that I know? As fast as I can teach you," Derek announced, retreating into the train. Harley turned her gaze to the betas, a shared understanding of the gravity of their circumstances hanging between them.

...

Harley arrived at school that morning with the weight of a scheduled meeting with the school counselor on her shoulders. Ms. Morrell greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat.

"Harley, why don't you start?" Ms. Morrell suggested, her voice encouraging. Harley hesitated, her gaze fixated on the floor as she grappled with the words she needed to express.

"I don't know what to say," Harley admitted softly, avoiding eye contact.

"Why don't we talk about your family?" Ms. Morrell gently probed, recognizing the delicate nature of the conversation. Harley's mind briefly flashed to memories she wished would stay buried.

"My family, my parents died in a fire years ago," Harley shared, the pain evident in her voice.

"What were their names?" Ms. Morrell inquired, maintaining a compassionate tone. Harley sighed, reluctantly acknowledging the details.

"My mom's name was Rebecca, and my father's was William," she responded, stealing a glance at Ms. Morrell.

"Do you feel like it's your fault?" the counselor asked, her question hanging in the air. Harley felt a lump form in her throat.

"Sometimes I do. It's just that I wished I had saved them," Harley confessed, lifting her gaze to Ms. Morrell but careful not to let any tears escape.

"You were still just a child; it wasn't your fault," Ms. Morrell reassured her, offering solace. Marin, the counselor, continued with a personal touch.

"Look, your mother was someone I used to know; she was always so kind," Ms. Morrell shared, and Harley looked at her with a hint of confusion.

"You knew my mom?" Harley questioned, perplexed.

"Yeah, my brother helped her once," Marin replied with a warm smile.

"Then why did you ask me her name if you already knew her?" Harley sought clarification.

"Because I needed you to remember her as a person, not the moment where she was no longer living," Ms. Morrell explained, offering insight.

"Looks like I'll see you next week," she added, concluding the session. Harley found a sense of comfort in the conversation.

"Yeah, next week," Harley responded with a grateful smile before making her way out, leaving the counselor's office with a newfound connection and a small sense of peace.

Harley arrived home around 4 in the afternoon. Upon entering the loft, she noticed Erica and Boyd engaged in conversation.

"Harley, are you gonna be at the game?" Erica inquired, her voice filled with anticipation.

"Uh, maybe. I don't know yet," Harley replied, contemplating her plans for the evening.

"Think about it, okay?" Erica urged, a hopeful expression on her face. Harley nodded in acknowledgment before making her way upstairs. The loft carried a mix of tension and casualness, leaving Harley to ponder the invitation as she ascended the staircase.

...

Erica, Boyd, and Harley settled into the bleachers, watching the lacrosse game unfold beneath the stadium lights. Amidst the cheers and tackles, Harley's attention was suddenly drawn to a figure on the sidelines – Gerard Argent, Allison's grandfather. Derek's stories echoed in her mind, vivid images of the ruthless man who had once callously cut an innocent werewolf in half.

As Boyd joined the lacrosse game, Erica and Harley strolled over to Stiles, their presence offering a break from the intensity of the match.

"Hey, Stiles," Erica greeted, her eyes locking with his.

"We're heading to a meeting with Derek. You in?" Harley added, a knowing glance shared between them.

The trio moved towards the swimming pool area where Derek awaited them. As the meeting began, Derek pressed Stiles for information about what he witnessed at the mechanic's garage. Harley recognized the gravity of the situation, having seen the same unnerving scene.

Stiles attempted to skirt around the issue, but Derek, frustration mounting, crushed a basketball, an ominous warning of the consequences of deceit. Stiles, pressured, began describing the lizard monster that haunted their recent memories. In an alarming turn, the creature emerged.

With swift force, it incapacitated Erica and Harley and paralyzed Derek. Stiles, undeterred, dragged Derek away, struggling to dial Scott for help. In the chaos, Stiles fumbled, dropping both his phone and Derek into the pool.

As Derek and Stiles faced the looming threat submerged in eight feet of water, the menacing roar of the lizard monster lingered. Stiles, determined, retrieved the phone and made a quick, desperate call to Scott.

"Scott, we need help!" he pleaded, but Scott abruptly ended the call, leaving them stranded. Stiles tossed the phone aside, diving down to rescue Derek just as they began to sink.

In a surprising twist, Scott intervened, pulling them from the water and unceremoniously tossing them aside to confront the impending menace of the lizard monster. The tension escalated, promising a perilous confrontation.

...

Harley slowly regained consciousness, finding herself back at the loft. The dim light cast a shadow on Derek, who stood gazing out of the window.

Groaning, she asked, "What happened?"

"You got knocked out by the Kanima," Derek replied, his eyes shifting to meet hers.

"The Kanima? What the hell is that?" Harley inquired, pushing herself up.

Derek turned to face her, explaining, "The Kanima is a mutation of the werewolf gene that cannot fully transform until it resolves something in its past, which manifests it. Or at least that's what my mom told me."

A furrowed brow settled on Harley's face. "How do we stop it?" she pressed.

"I don't know yet. Just get some rest," Derek instructed, his gaze lingering on her before he ascended the stairs. Harley, left with more questions than answers, sighed and reclined, contemplating the enigma that had intruded into their lives.