Chapter 3

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"I said, let him go," Stiles practically growled as he pressed the gun directly against Corey's temple.

Scott felt sick to his stomach, "Stiles what are you doing?"

"What the shuck is a stiles?" he asked, and Lydia let out a small noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Listen, we don't want any trouble. Just let him go and we'll get out of here."

"No!" Scott took a tentative step forward. "Stiles, I'm not letting you leave again. We've been looking for you for three months."

Stiles lowered the gun a little and shot a quick glance at Minho and Teresa. "Are you saying I was friends with werewolves?"

"I mean, only three of us are actual were-"

"Liam, shut up," Derek growled.

Stiles clicked the bullet into place and pressed it against Corey's head again, "Let him go. Then we'll talk."

Scott listened to the steady beat of Stiles' heart. He meant it. He would kill Corey if they didn't let Newt go. With a hard swallow, Scott locked eyes with Argent and nodded, "Let him go."

Argent pulled out the keys and unlocked the handcuff around Newt's uninjured arm before backing away with his hands up as Teresa held her crossbow to his neck.

"Minho, check on him," Stiles nodded at his friend, who lowered his spear reluctantly.

"Actually, I've been awake for the past fifteen minutes," came a cool, British voice as Newt got to his feet with a smirk.

"You shuckface," Stiles said with a smile. He lowered the gun and quickly crossed over to his friends and pulled Newt into a one-armed hug before Minho and Teresa repeated the gesture.

Scott felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Mason pulling Corey into a tight hug. Scott couldn't believe Stiles would threaten to kill anyone, let alone someone in their pack.

"Glad they didn't kill you, ya shank," Minho said with a smirk.

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily."

The Gladers then turned to the pack, shoulder to shoulder. The anger in their eyes replaced with newfound curiosity.

"If only three of you are werewolves, what are the rest of you?" Stiles asked.

No one said anything. A few were simply hurt that Stiles even had to ask that question, and the others were looking to Scott to tell them how much they needed to say.

"Don't all speak up at once, now," Newt said sarcastically.

Scott turned to the others, "Tell them. We need to trust each other.

"Banshee," Lydia said softly, then with more confidence. "I'm a banshee."

He may have been imagining it, but Scott thought he saw Teresa's eyes harden at that statement and Newt stepped ever so slightly closer to her, almost protectively.

"Werecoyote," Malia said simply.

"Corey and I are chimeras," Theo was leaning up against a support beam behind the Gladers, who turned around to look at him.

"Chimeras?" Newt asked, confused. "The lion, goat, snake, hybrid from Greek mythology?"

"It's also the word for a creature made up of incongruous parts. Or a person with more than one set of DNA. It's what we call someone made supernatural by the Dread Doctors because they have the DNA of two different creatures," Scott said and the Gladers turned back around.

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