┏━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┓

Videos 2*C was probably one of the last video rental stores in Northern California—or that's how Octavia McCall saw it, anyway. The place had a worn charm, faded movie posters peeling from the walls, and rows of DVDs arranged like relics from another era. The flickering fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, and the empty aisles only added to the eerie quiet.

Though she and Stiles didn't need formal invitations to invade each other's time, the last Sunday of every month was always movie night. Tonight was her turn to pick, which meant Stiles would be in charge of snacks. Her phone was warm against her cheek as she held it up, the display casting a soft glow in the dimness.

"I'm not watching another Star Wars movie," she murmured into the phone, her fingers brushing over the spines of DVD cases. Her words were quiet, but in the silence of the store, they seemed to echo. She glanced around; no other customers were there. She assumed an employee must be in the back room, but a shiver crept up her spine as she wondered why the place felt so deserted.

"But Birdie—" Stiles began, his familiar whine cutting through the static before she cut him off.

"Nope. It's my turn to pick, and aren't you supposed to be having dinner with your dad until I grace you with my presence?"

There was a muffled exchange on his end, then, "I'm picking up food as we speak." She heard a quick "thank you" from Stiles as he collected his order.

"Good. And I'm picking out the movie."

"Just consider—"

"Bye, Stiles!" she sang, hanging up before he could argue further. She let out a small laugh, her gaze wandering back to the rows of DVDs. She skimmed the rom-coms before drifting into horror, momentarily lost in thought.

The bell above the door jingled, breaking the silence. Her interest was only piqued when she heard Jackson Whittemore's unmistakably annoyed voice ring out, "Can somebody help me find The Notebook? Hello? Is anybody working here?"

She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the DVD in her hand, but his footsteps approached. She sighed as she looked up, meeting Jackson's unimpressed stare.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

She shrugged, forcing an indifferent tone. "Just trying to ruin your night. Is it working?"

He scoffed, but something seemed to catch his attention as he moved toward the back of the store. She watched him slow his pace, an uneasy feeling gnawing at her as she trailed a few steps behind.

Then she saw a pair of feet sticking out from one of the aisles. Her heart skipped, her legs moving, before she realized she was walking. The sickly metallic scent hit her, and as she rounded the corner, she found herself staring down at the lifeless body of the employee, lying in a pool of blood, his throat viciously torn open.

Her breath caught, and Jackson's hand was suddenly on her arm, pulling her back. They stumbled, bumping into a metal ladder as it clattered to the floor, taking down one of the fluorescent lights. The room plunged into darkness, the remaining lights flickering wildly, casting shifting shadows around them.

A low growl rumbled from somewhere behind them.

Octavia's heart pounded as she turned, catching sight of a pair of eyes—red, glowing, and fixed on her through the flickering light. Instinct took over as she shoved Jackson into the nearest aisle and ducked beside him. She held a finger to her lips, signaling for silence as she strained to hear over the frantic beat of her own pulse.

Peeking around the corner, she saw the Alpha stalking between the aisles, its massive frame casting a shadow that loomed closer with each step. She ducked back, her breaths shallow as the creature's footsteps closed in. A sudden force sent DVDs flying off the shelves behind her, clattering to the floor like hailstones. She closed her eyes, cursing softly under her breath.

"You have to run," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. Before Jackson could respond, she added urgently, "Now."

Jackson didn't hesitate, bolting toward the exit. But the creature's presence seemed to shift, a sudden rush as the shelves began to collapse like dominos, toppling in her direction. She barely had time to react before they came down, pinning her in place. Pain shot through her leg as she struggled to move, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Octavia!" she heard Jackson shout, his voice laced with panic as he stopped in his tracks.

Before he could come closer, the Alpha was on her. She felt its hot breath against her face and smelled the iron tang of blood on its fangs as it leaned in, its red eyes glowing with an eerie, knowing light. Her pulse thundered as the creature's voice filled her mind in a low, rumbling growl.

"Renata est, evigilavit, venefica, vates."

At those words, a searing, white-hot pain ignited in her veins, radiating from her core and spreading outward like wildfire. She gasped, her vision blurring as her body seemed to vibrate with a strange, foreign energy. Then, in an instant, the Alpha was gone, leaving her alone with the echoes of her own ragged breaths in the darkness.

Octavia sat in the back of the ambulance, her gaze following the bright beam of the paramedic's flashlight as it traced her line of vision. The cool night air prickled her skin, but she couldn't shake the deeper chill from what had happened.

"Are Lydia and Jackson okay?" she asked softly, her eyes darting to the nearby stretchers just as the Sheriff's cruiser pulled up. Its headlights cut through the darkness, spilling light over the scene.

The moment Noah Stilinski spotted Octavia's familiar face, he cast a look at his son in the passenger seat. Stiles was already halfway out of his seat when his father's firm voice stopped him.
"Stay here." But as soon as Noah's door clicked shut, Stiles was out, jogging toward Octavia before his father could protest.

Octavia gave a nervous smile as Sheriff Stilinski reached her. "You're not going to tell my mom, are you?" she asked with a slight wince.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"

She let out a defeated sigh, barely meeting his gaze. "No. I just—"

Before she could finish, two hands cupped her face, warm and steady. Stiles' eyes scanned her face, his voice soft, "You're okay." The words were barely a whisper, as if saying them made it true.

Octavia's lips curved into a small smile. "Just a sprained ankle that'll get me out of P.E. for two weeks." She felt her cheeks warm under his hands but ignored it. "But no serious damage."

He narrowed his eyes in a mock scold, the worry still flickering beneath. "I told you to pick out a movie, not flirt with death."

She let out a small laugh. "And I told you to stay in the car," Sheriff Stilinski said. He looked between the two teens, taking in their silent exchange. With a shake of his head, he turned toward Lydia and Jackson, muttering something under his breath.

Octavia's gaze softened as she took Stiles' hands in hers. "I'm okay," she repeated, her voice gentle.

Stiles nodded, but his expression stayed tight, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over her knuckles. "I know." But there was something in his voice—a flicker of guilt, frustration. The look in his eyes said it all: he should have been there.

Octavia leaned in, her voice a whisper. "It was the Alpha." His eyes widened, leaning closer. "He—"

"Octavia?" The low and concerned voice cut through. They turned to see Lucas approaching, his brows drawn in worry.

"Luke, hi." Her face softened, but the moment she pulled her hands from Stiles', a pang of something strange lingered. "How are you?"

"How am I?" He blinked in surprise, shaking his head slightly. "You're the one in the back of an ambulance."

"It's only a sprained ankle," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. But when Lucas' eyes roamed her face, the attention made her shift uncomfortably. It felt different—more clinical, maybe; it wasn't the same way Stiles had looked at her. She shook the thought away. "Were you...here to rent a movie?" she asked quickly, hoping to steer the conversation.

"Yeah. I told you about my little sister, right?" Octavia nodded as he continued. "She really wanted to watch Tangled tonight, but since the store's a crime scene..." He gave her a questioning look. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Oh, no." She glanced at Stiles, her voice softening as she added, "I already have plans with Stiles tonight, so I'll just head home with him. Thanks, though."

Stiles straightened slightly at the mention of his name, fighting to suppress a slight, triumphant grin.

"Right." Lucas' gaze shifted between them, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. "Well, goodnight." His eyes landed on Stiles. "Stiles."

Stiles nodded, biting back a smirk. "Puke."

"It's Luke—"

"That's what I said."

Octavia laughed as she flung another piece of popcorn into the air. Stiles angled his head, catching it effortlessly, and they both cheered, the noise echoing through the quiet Stilinski house. The movie on the TV was nothing more than background light now, its glow casting a soft, warm hue over the room as the credits rolled on the screen.

"Okay, okay," Stiles chuckled, picking a stray piece of popcorn from her hair, his fingers lingering too long before he tossed it into the bowl. "If my dad finds popcorn everywhere again, we're both dead."

Octavia grinned, her hand resting momentarily on his, but her expression softened unexpectedly. "Be right back," she murmured, standing up. She felt his gaze follow her, his easy smile fading as he noticed the change in her mood.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Just need a minute." She tried to reassure him with a half-smile, though the shadows from earlier were already pulling at her. Without waiting for his response, she slipped down the hall toward the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Inside, the lights buzzed to life, casting an unkind glare over her pale face. She met her reflection, seeing the weariness and shadows under her eyes. It felt like the face of a stranger, someone she didn't entirely recognize.

She turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over her hands before splashing it on her face. She closed her eyes, but as the icy droplets shocked her skin, the memories flooded back, sharp and vivid.

The darkened aisle of the video store, the loud crash of shelves collapsing as the DVDs scattered in all directions, spinning like coins across the floor. Jackson's voice called out, muffled by the ringing in her ears. And then, a presence in the darkness—those burning red eyes.

Her breath quickened as she remembered the Alpha's face, so close she could feel the heat radiating from its body. The strange words it had growled over her hung in her mind, low and ominous, echoing like a warning.

"Renata est, evigilavit, venefica, vates."

The words pulsed through her as if searing onto her skin, and she clutched the edge of the sink, grounding herself. Her chest tightened, her heart pounding faster with every breath. She pressed her hand over her heart, trying to steady its rhythm, but the sensation lingered.

Why did it feel like he was speaking directly to me? The mirror reflected her own wide, haunted eyes, and suddenly, she was thinking of Stiles—his hands cupping her cheeks, grounding her, the quiet concern in his eyes that had brought her back to herself earlier. She took a slow, shuddering breath, steadying herself as his face lingered in her mind.

She pushed herself back into the present with one last splash of water. I'm okay, she told herself firmly, straightening her shoulders. She'd tell Stiles what she could...but the rest? She couldn't bring herself to share it all. Not yet.

Back in the living room, Stiles looked up, relief softening his face as she returned. He was tidying up, brushing popcorn off the coffee table with a focused determination that warmed her heart. Seeing her, he dropped the handful of popcorn and turned to her.

"You okay?" he asked, the concern unmistakable now, though he kept his tone light.

She nodded, but the words spilled out before she could stop herself. "I have to tell you something."

He stilled, his eyes never leaving her as she recounted the events in the video store, every detail she could remember. The words came tumbling out faster than she could think of them. "And then he said, 'Renata est, evigilavit, venefica, vates.' And then he was gone."

Stiles blinked, taking in everything she'd said, his hand slowly resting on her shoulder. "Do you know what it means?" he asked, his voice quiet and steady.

"No." She lied, biting the inside of her cheek. She wasn't even sure why the lie slipped out so quickly. She hesitated, then amended, "Sort of. I'm still learning, so my Latin isn't exactly stellar."

"Birdie..." Stiles' voice softened as he watched her, his thumb brushing softly against her shoulder.

With a sigh, she relented. "It means, 'She has awakened—the witch, the Seer.' But I—I don't know what that means. Why he'd call me that."

Stiles' arm slipped around her shoulders, his voice resolute. "We'll figure it out. The three of us—"

"No," she interrupted, her tone firmer than intended. "I don't want Scott knowing. Not yet, anyway."

"Birdie..." He leaned back, his brow creasing. "I really think he should know."

"Not now." She shook her head, her gaze drifting down. "We help him first, and then, then we tell him."

Stiles watched her for a long moment as if searching her face for something unspoken before he finally nodded, his arm tightening around her shoulders in a silent promise. "Alright," he murmured, "I'll keep it quiet. For now."

They sat together in the dim glow of the TV, and as the silence settled between them, she felt his steady presence beside her, a warmth that eased the lingering chill from her memories.

Monday morning rolled around far too soon for Octavia's liking. The weekend had been a blur of restless thoughts and half-formed nightmares, her mind still haunted by the events at the video store. She barely slept, and by the time she arrived at school, she'd already promised to help Lydia decorate Allison's locker since Lydia was out of commission and high on pain meds.

But her mood soured even further as she sat in chemistry, Harris droning on about parent-teacher conferences that night, casting judgmental glances over his glasses.

"...because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment." he intoned, his presence looming over her and Stiles' shared desk. Stiles had the cap of his yellow highlighter in his mouth, his eyes darting up to glance at Harris.

"Has anyone seen Scott McCall?" Harris asked, surveying the room like a hawk. Octavia and
Stiles exchanged a glance, Stiles raising his brows in a shrug. She'd seen Scott in the hall moments before class, but his chair now sat conspicuously empty.

Before either of them could answer, Jackson strolled in, wearing an air of exaggerated fragility. Harris practically rushed to him, placing a hand on Jackson's shoulder as if he'd narrowly escaped a life-threatening ordeal. "Jackson," he said, voice softer, "If you need to leave early for any reason, let me know."

Octavia scoffed, rolling her eyes at Stiles, who grinned back as if they shared some unspoken joke. Jackson had barely brushed against the Alpha. He hadn't felt the heat of its breath or the chill of its whispered words reverberate through his bones.

Not that she got a thank you for saving him. She thought bitterly of the moment, her hands shaking slightly under the desk as she tried to focus on the book before her.

"Everyone, start reading chapter nine," Harris ordered, his gaze falling sharply back to Stiles. "Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. This is chemistry, not an art class."

The highlighter cap popped from Stiles' mouth, and he caught it effortlessly, flashing her a proud, playful grin. She felt a faint smile tugging at her lips despite herself, his silly little triumph tugging her out of her brooding thoughts.

But the moment passed quickly. Stiles leaned forward, tapping Danny's shoulder. "Hey, Danny, can I ask you something?"

Without looking up, Danny sighed. "No."

Stiles pressed on. "Did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?"

Octavia's attention shifted, her stomach twisting inexplicably at the sound of Lydia's name on his lips. She bit down on her lip, trying to shake off the unwelcome pang that rose in her chest.

Danny shrugged. "No."

"Can I ask you another question?"

Danny, not even bothering to hide his annoyance, responded, "The answer is still no."

Stiles ignored him, but he asked anyway: "Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?"

Danny hesitated, but he finally replied. "He wouldn't tell me."

"But he's your best friend."

Danny huffed, glancing at Octavia. "Why don't you ask her? She was there too."

Octavia tensed, feeling Stiles' gaze shift toward her. Her pulse quickened slightly, though she wasn't entirely sure why. She forced her eyes back to her textbook, tracing the same line again and again without really reading it.

But Stiles didn't push the question. Instead, after a pause, he leaned back toward Danny, a mischievous glint in his eye. "One more question."

Danny rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Do you find me attractive?"

Octavia's hand froze mid-page turn as the question hung in the air. She fought to keep her expression neutral. Danny sighed, muttering something sarcastic, but Stiles' gaze had already flicked back to her, grinning as if he'd just cracked the best joke of the century.

"You think Danny finds me attractive, Birdie?" he whispered, nudging her shoulder.

She shot him a mock glare, hiding her embarrassment with an eye-roll. "Danny would rather be dissecting a frog than talking to you right now."

Octavia stood in the back kitchen of Deja Brew, carefully spreading thick layers of chocolate frosting over the cafe's signature cupcakes. The sweet aroma mingled with fresh coffee, filling the small, cozy kitchen. She found herself lost in the rhythmic movement of the frosting knife, the act soothing in a way she didn't entirely understand.

The door swung open, and Rhiannon swept in with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling with some hidden knowledge. "There's a cute boy here to see you," she sang, leaning against the counter with a knowing look.

Octavia's laughter bubbled up. "You say that every time Stiles visits."

Rhiannon waved her hand with a dismissive grin. "Oh, he's adorable! And you need to get out of here anyway. After that whole scare at the video store last night—and now the parent-teacher conference today? Dearest, you shouldn't even be here."

Octavia gave a soft shrug, scraping the last bit of frosting from the bowl. "I'm okay, Rhia. It's a good distraction. And besides, I'm passing my classes, so my mom's really only going to hear how I'm the better twin." She smiled, but the memory of last night—those red eyes burning through the shadows—lingered in her mind.

Rhiannon's gaze softened. "Still, go rest. And are you still wearing that necklace I gave you?"

Octavia blinked, surprised by the question; she reached up and pulled the Black Tourmaline pendant from beneath her shirt. The stone gleamed faintly in the light, and Rhiannon sighed in relief, gently squeezing Octavia's arm. "Good. Now, go bring that cute friend of yours a cupcake."

Octavia chuckled but wrapped one in a napkin for Stiles. "Alright, alright. Goodnight, Rhia," she called as she headed out, her heart lifting slightly at the thought of Stiles waiting out front.

She held the cupcake out to him. "Rhia insisted you have this. I think she might have a little crush on you."

His expression lightened, and he smirked, taking the cupcake. "Really? You think I've got a shot?"

"Maybe," she teased. "I'd start working on your vows if I were you."

He laughed, holding the door open for her as they left. Outside, he opened the car door for her, and for a moment, their hands brushed. She felt a small rush of warmth but quickly pushed it aside, hopping into the Jeep and giving him a teasing look to cover it up.

Once inside, Stiles settled into his seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. His usual stream of chatter was noticeably absent. Octavia frowned, watching him with concern. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh... went to visit Lydia after school."

"Oh." She tried to ignore the odd, uncomfortable twist in her chest. "Is she okay? I spoke to her mom a little bit."

"Yeah, I mean, she's still a little... loopy from the meds," he said, the hint of a smile crossing his lips. "But she's fine, all things considered."

A dozen questions ran through her mind, but one slipped out before she could stop. "Why'd you–Do you... do you like Lydia?"

Stiles' head snapped toward her, eyes wide. "What? No, not like that." He laughed a little too loudly. "I just... I wanted to know what she saw last night. If she saw the Alpha..."

She nodded quickly, "Of course. Makes sense."

He paused, then cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "She... she says it was a mountain lion. But that's what the cops told her. And she was, you know... on a lot of meds."

Octavia arched her brow. "Sounds like there's a 'but' coming."

Stiles leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "She has a video of the Alpha on her phone."

Octavia's eyes widened, her pulse quickening. "A video?"

He nodded, his gaze intense as he looked at her, and she suddenly felt the weight of it, like he was waiting for her to say something important. Her mind drifted, and for some reason, she remembered his hand on her cheek last night, how he'd looked at her so carefully.

She shook herself, trying to keep her voice steady. "So... she got it on camera?"

"Yeah." Stiles was still looking at her, and she felt a strange warmth under his gaze, even as her mind raced with the possibilities of what Lydia might have seen.

The silence stretched, and Stiles cleared his throat again, breaking eye contact as he stared straight ahead his jaw tense. "Don't worry, Birdie. We'll figure this out together."

The familiar nickname and the gentleness in his tone sent a flutter through her chest, one she quickly ignored, brushing it off as lingering stress from last night.

"Yeah." She managed to smile, focusing on the passing lights outside. "I know."

Octavia lounged on Stiles's bed, wrapped in the worn comfort of his sheet, watching him pace around his room. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep as he muttered at his phone, leaving Scott another string of empty threats via voicemail. Finally, Stiles gave up, flopping into his computer chair with a long sigh, his head dropping onto folded arms.

A soft knock at the door made him jolt upright, and Noah appeared in the doorway, his sheriff's badge catching a sliver of sunlight from the window.

"Please tell me I'm going to hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight," Noah said, one eyebrow raised in wary hope.

Stiles spun his lip balm cap between his fingers, giving his dad a half-smile. "Depends on your definition of 'good news.'"

The sheriff's face remained stoic. "I define it as you getting straight A's with no behavioral issues."

Stiles squirmed. "You might wanna rethink that definition."

Noah's sigh was deep, tired, and borderline exasperated. "Enough said." His gaze drifted to Octavia, a faint smile playing at his lips. "And you, kid? Should I be worried about you too?"

Octavia sat up straighter, putting on her brightest smile. "Straight A's, mostly. Chemistry's a little iffy, but any behavioral issues? You can definitely blame Stiles."

Noah shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping. "Figures," he muttered, looking fondly at them both before closing the door behind him.

As soon as he left, Stiles leaned back, breathing like he'd just dodged a bullet. Octavia's eyes drifted to his desk, where a sleek, all-too-familiar phone rested. She stared processing, her eyes widening. "Wait... is that Lydia's phone? Stiles, did you steal Lydia's phone?"

Stiles winced, tossing it onto the desk like it had burned him. "What was I supposed to do? She's got a video of the Alpha, Birdie! I had to act fast."

Octavia looked at him, exasperated. "You could have just deleted the video! Sent it to yourself, erased it from her conversation and her phone—no actual theft required!"

He blinked at her, lips parting in shock. "Well, where was that genius plan before I committed a minor felony?"

"Oh my God." She slapped a hand over her face, groaning. "I thought you were supposed to be the mastermind here."

Stiles slouched back in his chair, mock-offended, holding up his hands. "Hey! I prefer 'impulsive genius,' thank you very much." He hesitated, glancing at her. "But... uh, if you've got any more advice on how to, y'know, not get caught, I'm listening."

"Oh, you would be so lost without me." Octavia shook her head, a smirk creeping onto her face despite herself.

"You have no idea."

┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

taking bets on who you think will fall first

𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎