Stiles’ POV

The car engine hummed softly beneath me, its rhythm steady but not loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The road stretched endlessly before me, the black asphalt shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Seabrook was behind me now, a fading speck in the rearview mirror, but the people I’d met here—the battles, the chaos, and the bonds we’d forged—were burned into my mind.

Bellatrix had been the hardest to say goodbye to. She’d stood there, arms crossed, wearing that trademark smirk that masked her emotions all too well.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay without me?” I’d asked, leaning against the Jeep with a playful grin.

She rolled her eyes, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Please. I’ll manage. Go back to your supernatural soap opera in Beacon Hills, Stilinski.”

Her words stung more than they should have. But before I left, she reached out and clapped me on the shoulder, her grip firm. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Promise,” I said, my voice quieter than I’d intended.

I hadn’t driven far when the temperature in the car plummeted. The headlights flickered, and I slammed on the brakes as a swirl of dark mist appeared in the middle of the road.

“What the—” I muttered, fumbling for my bat in the passenger seat.

The mist condensed, forming a figure in long, flowing robes. Agatha Harkness.

“Great. Just what I needed,” I said, stepping out of the car, bat in hand.

“Relax, boy wonder,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not here for you.”

“Then why the roadblock?” I snapped.

Agatha’s expression turned serious, her usual smugness replaced with something that looked almost like concern. “It’s about Bellatrix.”

My grip tightened on the bat. “What about her?”

“She’s in danger,” Agatha said, stepping closer. “Wanda Maximoff is dead.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Dead? Are you sure?”

“Quite,” Agatha said grimly. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is her son—Wiccan. He’s just as powerful as his mother, maybe more so. And he’s looking for a way to bring her back.”

My stomach churned. “What does that have to do with Bellatrix?”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, as if the answer was obvious. “Her magic. Wiccan needs power to resurrect Wanda, and Bellatrix has more than enough to make it happen.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “She can handle herself.”

Agatha’s gaze hardened. “You don’t understand. Wiccan won’t ask for her magic—he’ll take it. And if he does, it’ll kill her.”

The air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on me. I swallowed hard. “What do you want me to do?”

“Warn her. Protect her. Do whatever it takes to keep her out of Wiccan’s reach,” Agatha said, her voice cold and unyielding. “You care about her, don’t you?”

I clenched my fists. “Of course I do. She's my daughter.”

“Then don’t waste time,” Agatha said, the mist swirling around her again. “This is only the beginning.”

She vanished, leaving me standing in the middle of the road, my heart pounding. I looked back toward Seabrook, torn between returning to warn Bellatrix and continuing on to Beacon Hills.

“Dammit,” I muttered, climbing back into the Jeep. “I’ll visit sooner than planned.”

Luna’s POV

The energy of the Moonstone pulsed faintly from the den’s pedestal, its glow less intense now that the immediate danger had passed. I sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the stone as though it might offer some insight into the choice weighing on my heart.

Willa and Wynter stood on opposite sides of the room, both pretending not to watch me, but I could feel their gazes like twin spotlights.

Bellatrix flopped onto the couch nearby, her usual bravado tinged with exhaustion. “You’re gonna fry your brain staring at that thing, Luna.”

I gave her a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”

Bellatrix snorted. “About which wolf you’re picking, I bet.”

Willa’s ears perked up, and Wynter shifted uncomfortably.

“Subtle,” I muttered, shooting Bellatrix a glare.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I call it like I see it. And seriously, pick one already. The tension in here is killing me.”

I sighed, standing up and dusting off my jeans. “Fine.”

Willa straightened, her eyes sharp and expectant. Wynter looked at me, her expression a mixture of hope and dread.

I walked over to Wynter first. Her breath hitched as I placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve been an amazing friend,” I said softly. “But that’s all we are. Friends.”

Her shoulders slumped, but she nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks for being honest.”

I turned to Willa, whose face was carefully neutral, though her tail flicked slightly in anticipation.

“I choose you,” I said, my voice firm.

Willa’s composure cracked, and a genuine smile spread across her face. “You mean it?”

I nodded. “I mean it.”

Wynter excused herself quietly, leaving the room with as much dignity as she could muster. I hated hurting her, but I knew this was the right decision.

Bellatrix clapped her hands. “Finally! Now can we focus on the fact that someone’s probably trying to kill me?”

Willa frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“ stiles just called me and said Agatha Harkness paid him a visit,” Bellatrix said, leaning back against the couch. “Apparently, Wanda’s son is gunning for me and my magic. You know, typical Tuesday.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “What are we going to do?”

Bellatrix smirked, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll do what we always do. Fight back.”

Willa stepped closer, her hand brushing against mine. “And you’ll have us by your side.”

I squeezed her hand, finding strength in the gesture.

Bellatrix stood, cracking her knuckles. “Guess we’re not done saving the world after all.”

The Moonstone’s glow pulsed brighter for a moment, as if agreeing with her. And despite the danger looming over us, I felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, I knew exactly where I belonged.

Hey guys I hope you like this chapter and the book as a whole. This is the last chapter and there will be a second book but it won't have aliens.