"Hey, uh, Scott?" Stiles's voice came through the phone, cutting through the faint noise of locker doors slamming shut around Scott.

"Yeah?" Scott asked, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he fumbled through his locker for his books.

"I think I figured out what's going on with Quinn," Stiles said, his voice dropping with urgency.

Scott froze mid-motion. "What? Is she okay? What happened?"

"Oh, buddy," Stiles replied with a nervous laugh, "she's more than okay. But I think you need to come to the lacrosse field. Like, right now."

"The lacrosse field? Why would—"

"Just trust me on this one, okay?" Stiles interrupted, his tone tinged with impatience. "And maybe bring Isaac with you. You're gonna need backup."

"Why? Stiles, what's going—"

"Just get over here! It'll all make sense when you do!" And with that, the line went dead.

Scott stood there for a moment, staring at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. He turned to find Isaac leaning against his locker, looking like he was moments away from collapsing from exhaustion. "Hey, Isaac."

Isaac yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we going now?"

"To the lacrosse field," Scott said, already walking and pulling Isaac along with him.

Isaac dragged his feet. "Do we even have practice today?"

"No, but Stiles said he found something... or someone." Scott's voice was hesitant, his curiosity mixing with unease. "He said we'll get answers once we're there."

Isaac sighed but followed, muttering something about Stiles's dramatic tendencies.

When they finally arrived, they found Stiles standing off to the side of the field, his arms crossed and an unusually serious expression on his face. He didn't even glance at them as they approached, his eyes locked on the field.

"Stiles," Isaac began, his tone sceptical, "did you seriously drag us out here just to watch the cheerleaders? I mean, I get it—if you need tips, I—"

"Stop talking," Stiles snapped, cutting him off. "And for the record, you're the last person I'd go to for advice on anything."

Isaac frowned. "That was unnecessary."

Scott stepped in, trying to diffuse the tension. "Stiles, what's going on? Why are we—"

"Shut up and look," Stiles hissed, grabbing both of them by the collars and forcefully turning them toward the field. "Tell me you see it."

Scott and Isaac grumbled at the rough handling but obediently looked. Their complaints died in their throats when their eyes landed on Quinn, standing near the centre of the field. She was dressed in the cheerleading uniform, chatting casually with one of her teammates, a smirk playing on her lips.

It wasn't the sight of her in the uniform that stunned them. It was the confident, almost predatory way she carried herself—completely different from the Quinn they knew. Then, as if she could sense their gaze, she glanced their way. Her golden eyes flashed for the briefest moment before she sent them a slow, deliberate wink.

Scott's jaw dropped. Isaac blinked, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"I might be crazy," Stiles whispered, his voice barely audible over the faint chatter of the field, "but tell me I'm wrong. Tell me she's not what I think she is."

Quinn's smirk grew wider as she turned back to her teammate, tossing her hair over her shoulder with an air of smug satisfaction. She knew they'd figure it out eventually, but she hadn't expected it to be this entertaining. Aiden and Ethan had warned her to keep her new identity a secret, but the temptation to taunt them had been too strong to resist. She couldn't help herself.

Isaac finally found his voice. "Is she...?"

"A werewolf," Scott finished, still staring in shock. "She's a werewolf."

Quinn turned to face them fully now, her movements slow and deliberate. With a sharp grin, she raised her hands and joined her team in practising their routine. Every move seemed calculated to taunt them further.

"Well, shit," Stiles muttered under his breath. "For once, I was really hoping I was wrong."

Quinn caught Stiles's muttered words and couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up. Though she tried to smother it with a hand, the sound still escaped a mix of genuine amusement and smug triumph. She took a deep breath, composing herself just enough to keep her façade of nonchalance intact.

She glanced back at the three of them, her smirk deepening when she saw Scott's continued look of disbelief, Isaac's furrowed brow as if trying to solve a puzzle, and Stiles's face, which was caught somewhere between panic and exasperation.

It was rare to see them so caught off guard, and Quinn was revelling in the moment. Sure, she knew this little stunt would come back to bite her. Aiden and Ethan were going to have a field day chewing her out for being so reckless, and Deucalion wouldn't be too pleased either. But right now, she didn't care. The satisfaction of seeing their stunned expressions was worth whatever repercussions awaited her later.

With a flick of her hair, she turned back to the routine, her movements confident and deliberate. Each step seemed designed to exude a level of assurance that she hadn't felt in years. She wasn't the old Quinn anymore—the shy, uncertain girl who hesitated to speak up or take risks. That Quinn had been left behind the moment she accepted the Bite.

Now, she had power. Real power. And even though she was still figuring out how to wield it, moments like this reminded her why she'd made the choice in the first place. Being part of the Alpha Pack had given her something she hadn't realized she was missing: a sense of belonging. Even if it was temporary. Even if it came with strings attached.

As the cheerleading practice continued, she couldn't help but throw another glance over her shoulder at the trio. Isaac was saying something to Scott, his hands gesturing wildly, while Stiles kept glancing between her and the field like he was piecing together a conspiracy theory. Scott, meanwhile, hadn't moved, his eyes still fixed on her, his expression unreadable.

Quinn felt a flicker of guilt then, a small pang in her chest. She and Scott had been close once—closer than she'd ever been with anyone. Breaking things off with him had been hard, but necessary. There was no way they could've stayed together with everything going on, and now that she was part of the Alpha Pack... Well, there was no going back.

Still, seeing him like this, so thrown off balance, made her wonder if she'd underestimated just how much she'd meant to him.

Shaking off the thought, she refocused on the routine, throwing herself into the movements with a sharp precision. The sooner she could prove she was capable of handling herself, the sooner she could silence the doubts of her new packmates—and maybe her own, too.

As the practice wound down, Quinn caught Stiles still watching her, his lips moving as he whispered something to Scott. She could only imagine what wild theories he was spinning now. Let them wonder, she thought. Let them try to figure it out. She wasn't the same girl they thought they knew, and if they wanted answers, they'd have to come to her. On her terms.

For now, though, she was content to let the mystery linger. After all, she'd earned her moment in the spotlight. And judging by their reactions, she'd made sure it was one they wouldn't forget anytime soon.