Stiles Stilinski didn't let his sister out of his sight since her name appeared on the Dead Pool, especially since she was worth more than an alpha. The different last name on the list nagged at the back of his mind and begged him to tell her the secret of her birth, but he pushed it aside. All she wanted at that moment, after being nearly murdered, was to go home, crawl into her bed, and sleep for the rest of her life, and she told her brother as much. His response, of course, was to drag her along with him to the animal clinic to take care of Brett.

"What the hell is happening to this kid?" Derek Hale exclaimed as he watched Brett convulse. "He's been poisoned by a rare wolfsbane. I need to make an incision and you need to hold him as still as possible." Alan Deaton replied after he'd removed the twitching werewolf's shirt. "Hey, Derek, Kara, how about a little werewolf strength?" Stiles said through gritted teeth, struggling to hold him down alone.

"If you can't hold him still, the incision might kill him." The veterinarian warned. Brett grunted and continued to buck and jerk, and the two other werewolves hurried to grab him. Kara held his legs while Derek struggled to keep his shoulders from rising. The boy on the table kicked out suddenly, throwing her off of him and into a cabinet. The remaining adults paid no attention to her, though, and Deaton shouted, "Derek, he's slipping!"

Abruptly, Brett flopped off of the table and onto the floor, quickly standing up, and he moved to attack Kara. However, before he could, she punched him squarely in the face. Her fist screamed in pain, and she cried, "Holy shit!" The tall boy hit the floor once more, out cold, as she shook out her hand, muttering swear words under her breath.

She felt everyone's eyes on her, and she snapped, "What?"

Stiles crouched down next to Brett and studied him for a second. "Uh, Doc, I don't think he's breathing." At her brother's words, Deaton took a scalpel and made a cut down the werewolf's chest. Brett gasped and sat up. "Is he going to be okay?" She asked, tucking a stray lock of wavy hair behind her ear. The Druid nodded. "I think he'll be fine, but he'll probably be out for a while." He answered.

Her sensitive werewolf ears picked up on a quiet whispering coming from e unconscious boy's mouth. "Do you hear that? He's saying something." She announced, leaning towards him.

"The sun, the moon, the truth. The sun, the moon, the truth. Three things cannot be long hidden. The sun, the moon, the truth." He mumbled over and over again. Deaton thought for a second. "It's Buddhist," he paused, as if deciding whether or not he wanted to say it. "Satomi."

—

Kara hadn't told anyone, not even her brother, about what the assassin, whose name she discovered to be Violet, had said about being a shadow alpha, but when Stiles and Derek went to take Brett to the car, she said, "I'll be out in a minute."

She sat in silence for a while, until it was just her and Deaton in the room. He looked at her expectantly. "Whats going on, Kara?" He asked, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. She shrugged. "Have you ever heard of a shadow alpha?" She questioned, meeting his supportive gaze.

"Yes, I have, though they're very, very rare. I've personally never met one, but they're very powerful. Like true alphas, they get their status without killing another alpha. Shadow alphas are born only from a demon and a werewolf-vampire hybrid, and only if a person with this parentage is willing to sacrifice everything, possibly even their life, for the ones they love, or for the greater good. Because of their dark parentage, shadow alphas have souls that are meant to overcompensate in goodness and love, so much so that if they love too much, they could literally burn up from the inside out. I've only heard of two in human history. Why do you ask?" His explanation was lengthy but helpful, and she figured that she should tell him, this wise man who'd helped her brother countless times, what Violet had said.

"The girl who tried to kill Brett and I, when she tried to kill me, said that she'd caught an alpha. A shadow alpha. She said I was going to become a shadow alpha." Kara told him. Deaton frowned, thoughtful, then let out a deep sigh.

"Okay, I think it's time for you to go home," he suggested. "It's getting late." She nodded, giving him a wave goodbye and walked towards the door. As she did, she caught sight of a sheet of paper on one of the counters, one printed with a dozen names with numbers next to them; at the bottom was something peculiar.

Karina Mikaelson——— 29

It was the Dead Pool, with her first name, but a surname that was not her own.

"Hey, Doc?" She called, facing him with the paper in her hand. "This isn't me, right? This Karina Mikaelson? Because, I mean, my name is Stilinski. Right?" She questioned, voice shaking with uncertainty. The man sighed again, and rubbed his forehead with a hand. "You should be having this conversation with your father or Stiles." He stated. She rolled her whiskey colored eyes. "You know they won't tell me anything, just so they can protect me." She retorted.

"Kara, you have to promise you won't overreact out if I do tell you." Deaton chided, but by the look on his face, he'd crack in a moment.

"Don't interrupt until I'm finished, alright?" He began, leaning against the counter. She nodded hurriedly, and he continued: "You were born on June twenty-first, in New Orleans, 1999. Your biological father is a man named Klaus Mikaelson, the first vampire-werewolf. He's from a family of the oldest vampires in the world, called the Originals. Your biological mother- well, that is a different story. Her name is Guinevere, and she's a demon who seduced your father, had you, then left him with the responsibility of raising a child all alone." As the Druid spoke, she stood quietly and attempted not to talk.

"Klaus didn't think he was capable of being a parent, so he gave you to his brother, Elijah Mikaelson, with the instruction to take you as far as he could, and drop you off somewhere safe. Most likely because of the supernatural beacon of the Nematon, Elijah was drawn here. He left you on the front step of the sheriff's station, but there are rumors that he comes back every year around your birthday to check up on you, for Klaus. Back then, though, the sheriff was just a deputy, and he found this tiny, vulnerable newborn as he was leaving to go home. He took you in as an infant; when you were about a year old, he legally adopted you with his wife, Claudia, and has acted as your father ever since. Because of Klaus and the demon that birthed you, you have the potential to become a shadow alpha." He finished, leaving her gaping and confused.

"So, my dad isn't really my dad? And Stiles isn't really my brother?" Kara choked, and for the first time in months, had tears in her eyes. Everything she'd ever thought to be true turned out to be a lie. "I'm sorry, Kara. Go home, get some rest." He said kindly. She nodded dumbly and trailed out the door, but before she left the building, she asked, "Does Stiles know that I'm adopted?"

The grim look on Deaton's face was enough of an answer already; he did.

Stiles was silent when she got in the car; apparently, Derek had taken Brett home earlier, so it was just the Stilinski siblings, if they could even be called that. Her brother put the jeep into gear and drove home, still not speaking. When they arrived home, she threw herself out of the vehicle and stormed into the house. She heard Stiles calling for her as she stomped up the stairs, but she paid no attention, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She tiredly yanked off her jeans and boots, then climbed into bed.

She was asleep in minutes, despite her mind working at top speed.

—

The next morning, Kara woke up bright and early, and dressed herself in a pair of leggings, a tank top, and her running shoes. She hoped not to see either her (adopted) father or her (adopted) brother as she grabbed an apple from the kitchen, but, just her luck, Stiles all but skipped into the room.

"Morning, K." He chirped, pressing a kiss on the top of her head before she could stop him. She flinched away, and he took notice, frowning. "What's wrong?" He asked. She was already halfway to the front door when she turned back with a heartbreaking expression.

"You knew," she spat. "You knew and you didn't tell me. God, that's just- that's just awful." She flung the door open and rushed down the front steps, the boy following behind her. "Kara, where are you going?" He shouted as she practically shot away from him. "Out," she snapped, disappearing down the street.

She jogged until her thoughts caught up to her; after that, she pushed herself and ran as fast as she could. Thanks to her new superhuman abilities, she was able to run much, much faster than before. She hopped the gate to the Preserve without missing a beat, sprinting over the leaves and twigs.

Suddenly, a body came out of nowhere, and she slammed into it, taking both her and the unknown person to the ground. She let out an oof when she hit the dirt, and rolled over onto her back. The person she came face-to-face to was not one she particularly wanted to see at the moment.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Liam gasped, after helping Mason, who was the one she collided with, up from the ground. The beta reached out a hand to help her up, but she swatted it away, laid there for another second, and got up on her own. "I'm fine, Jesus. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" She exclaimed, then took off again, away from Liam.

"Kara, wait!" He shouted. She heard the crackling of dry leaves behind her, meaning he followed her. "Liam, hey! Wait up!" Mason cried, yet it was lost as the blue-eyed boy ran after her.

Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of an engine, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Liam slammed into her back, causing them both to almost fall over, and she grabbed his arm to steady herself. "Do you hear that?" She asked hurriedly. He nodded, looking around.

A black SUV appeared, almost like it was dropped from the sky, barreling towards them at a high speed. Her eyes widened, and, in a move of both self preservation and concern for the boy behind her, shoved Liam out of the car's path. She went down with him, landing right on top of him. His hands grabbed her waist and rolled her over so she was under him and he was shielding her with his body. He glanced down at her, mouth in the shape of an 'O'.

"Your eyes..." He whispered, seemingly in a trance. Feeling her eyes burn, she squeezed them closed and willed them to stop glowing as a car door opened and slammed shut. A freshman she'd only heard of and seen, never talked to, walked up to the pair on the ground, smirking. She thought his name was Garrett.

"Hey, Liam. Sorry about missing movie night. Don't worry, I got something else planned." The boy, whose name she was sure was Garrett, teased, voice taking on a mocking tone. He whipped out a seemingly normal lacrosse stick, but when he pulled the end that was supposed to act as a handle off, a shiny, two-pronged blade that shone yellow was revealed. She instantly knew what it was: yellow wolfsbane, the kind that Brett was stabbed with.

The assassin quickly kicked Liam off of Kara and dragged her to her feet by her long, brown ponytail. He tilted her chin up as he held the blade to her throat.

"Kara Stilinski," he murmured in her ear, making her sick to her stomach. "Or should I say, Karina Mikaelson? Y'know, I always sort of had a thing for you, but you never gave me the time of day. What is it? Do you only have a thing for werewolves? Explains Dunbar here." He said, lips against the curve of her ear. She clenched her jaw in an attempt not to lash out and break his neck, and he noticed her impending anger. "Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn't fight back, if I were you. One little nick of this blade, right where it is— do you know where I'm holding it? Right on your jugular— and it's night night for you. Permanently."

She gulped, feeling the cold steel of the weapon against her skin; it was common self-defense strategy to go limp when an attacker holds a knife to your throat, then duck out from under it and run, but in this situation, especially with a blade dipped in wolfsbane, she didn't like her odds.

"Don't touch her! It's me you want, isn't it?" Liam demanded, standing up while holding his head high, like he wasn't afraid. She could smell his fear from ten feet away. Garrett chuckled menacingly, the sound directly in her ear. "Haven't you figured it out already, Liam? I'm here for both of you. If, by chance, you do both die, I'll be getting a sweet thirty five million dollars." He corrected. She felt her claws begin to slide out, but she dug them into her palms in order to stay calm. "What do you want from us?" She choked.

Suddenly, he took the blade away from her throat, yet instead of letting her go, he plunged it into her thigh, then pushed her towards the other beta as she let out an awkward, shrill shriek of pain. She stumbled over her abruptly numb leg, pitching onto the dead brown leaves, and watched while the assassin slashed him across the chest with the blade.

Garrett yanked her up by her hair— again — and dragged her and Liam over to a low hole made of stones that was partially covered in a wooden plank. He smirked evilly, forcing her down so her back arched painfully against the stones.

"Who wants to go first?" He asked rhetorically. Then, as if he had a change of heart, he paused. "Actually, you can go together."

He kicked Liam in the stomach and sent him tumbling through the opening, flipping Kara backwards so she, too, fell through. It wasn't just a hole, she realized- it was a well. She landed at the bottom with a splash in the still, murky water. Next to her, the beta came sputtering to the surface.

"Help!" She screamed, up to the opening that let in a view of the sky. "Someone help us!"

—

They'd been in the well for over two hours, and apart from the occasional cry for help, neither of them said a word. She had tried climbing, twice now, but every time she reached for a rock that was just too slick and fallen back down with a shriek.

"Are you okay?" Liam asked quietly, the first time he'd spoken in a while. She sent him a glare, yet it didn't discourage him. He reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder, most likely what he thought to be a comforting gesture. What he didn't expect, though, was for black veins to appear on the skin he touched and snake up his hand, all the way to his elbow. He pulled back quickly with a gasp.

He was silent for a few moments, thinking, before he swallowed loudly. "I saw Scott do this thing... Can- can I try something?" He asked, voice slightly breaking over the last word. "What the hell? No, oh my god. That's what people always say when they're going to kiss someone-" She exclaimed, but she was cut off when he gently pressed his lips against hers. She squeaked in surprise, hands freezing midair.

At first, she didn't know why he would kiss her, yet when the pain she didn't know she had been feeling— not physical, but emotional from the world being ripped out from under her the night before— flowed out through her lips into his, she understood. He was trying to help her. His hands came up to cup her jaw, and that was when she realized that she wasn't in pain anymore. Now, he was kissing her just to kiss her. And she hated herself for liking it.

He gave a soft, barely-audible noise, which prompted her to push him away by the shoulders. She backed herself up, into the wall of the well, trying to calm herself down. She opened her eyes to see that his were still shut; his eyelids fluttered open, revealing bright, golden irises. The color faded back to their natural blue, and he seemed to be breathing heavily.

"Liam," she whispered shakily. "Why did you do that?" Her question left him speechless, and he looked confused and shaken up. "I don't know. I didn't- I'm sorry."

—

It was going on four hours now, and the wolfsbane was starting to affect them, Liam more than Kara. His eyes kept drifting shut, only for him to snap them back open moments later. After a particularly long blink, one that lasted for over a minute, she shook his shoulder. "Hey, Jackass. It's not nap time. C'mon, you need to stay awake." She said harshly.

Upon opening his eyes, he winced and held his chest. She understood how much the wolfsbane wound hurt; her thigh throbbed in pain with every breath she took.

"Let me see it," she murmured, taking a step towards him. He shook his head, mumbling, "I'm fine," but she just rolled her eyes at his macho-man act and stood in front of him in the chest-deep water. She carefully peeled off the black fabric of his shirt and bit back a gasp. The stab wound was bubbling blood and yellow foam, and the skin around it was sickly green in color.

"Oh my god," she breathed. He cracked a sarcastic half-smirk. "If you wanted to see me shirtless this bad, you could've just asked." He muttered, and proceeded to wince again. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Liam, we need to get out of here. Can you climb?" The beta nodded slowly and moved his hands to cling to the stones.

They ascended in silence, apart from one of them asking, "Are you good?" every few yards. The outer edge of the well was only a few inches past her reach when the unthinkable happened: he slipped. His foot failed to catch on a rock, and he almost fell as his hands couldn't get a good hold. Out of pure instinct, she reached out and grabbed his forearm. She felt like she was being torn in half, his weight pulling her shoulder out of its socket. She howled, a true, genuine wolf howl that sounded more like a roar, but she didn't let him go. She couldn't— wouldn't.

"Kara, stop! Let me go. I'll be fine!" He called, gritting his teeth. "No! God, why are you such an idiot?" His arm was slipping in her grip, sliding to the point where his hand was in hers. "Don't you dare let go." She ordered, even though she knew that she wasn't able to hold onto the slick stones for much longer.

In her head, she knew that she was probably going to die, whether it be from the wolfsbane slowly making its way to her heart or drowning or whatever it ended up being. She suddenly cursed herself for her last words to Stiles, those hateful words, and for not remembering the last time she talked to her father, really talked. She didn't, at that moment, care that they weren't her biological brother and father, not at all.

Blood doesn't make you family. Love makes you family.

"I'm sorry," Kara whispered to both her brother and father, and also to Liam, as her grip finally gave out.

She was in free fall for less than a nanosecond when a hand shot through the opening and caught her wrist, then pulled the two up with superhuman strength, out of the well. The brunette collapsed into the one and only Scott McCall.

She barely noticed that Liam still had a grip on her hand as she broke down, sobbing into Scott's shirt. He rubbed her hair and rocked her back and forth. "You're okay, Kara. You're okay." He cooed in her ear.

—

The trio was back at Deaton's office, Kara's shirt off as the Druid made an incision on her chest that let out a puff of yellow vapor. Liam was next to go, and she put her top, along with Scott's hoodie.

"I don't want to keep watching people die." Scott said sadly. Deaton smiled sadly, shaking his head. "I'm not sure you have much of a choice about that." He replied. The true alpha sat next to her on the metal exam table, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Maybe I do." He mumbled to himself, a distant look on his face.

"That's a lot of burden to carry, Scotty." She told him, but he set his jaw in determination. "I don't care. No one else dies. Everyone on that list, everyone on that Dead Pool. It doesn't matter if they're wendigos, werewolves, whatever.

"I'm going to save everyone."

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