𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞? 𝐇𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮...
Stiles just wants to be ordinary, normal, human. But that'll never happen knowing who his father i...
Malia walked down the halls of Beacon Hills high toward her third period class. The werecoyote had just left her class with her pack to the one class she had completely by herself.
After being found in the woods and brought back to the human world she was still getting used to how things were in the real world.
When she started high school she couldn't figure out how to she technology so she was put into a technology class to learn. While walking toward her class she smelled an unknown scent coming from down the hall. She knew she shouldn't take on whatever it was by herself, but didn't want to bring anyone else from going to class.
She slowly and steadily followed the scent until she came to a stop in front of an empty classroom.
The door eerily opened by itself and she chose to walk through it. Malia looked around, her senses telling her something was wrong and something or someone was in there with her.
Before she could react a sword was descended from the air and scraped against her shoulder blade. She hissed, spinning around to come face-to-face with a hooded figure. He wore all black and held an ancient looking sword in his hand. The only thing she could see was the man's smirk which made her shiver with fear.
Not wanting him to know how afraid she was, she growled as threateningly as she could.
"That's so cute little pup."
Malia growled once more as the sword was swung toward her again. She held her arms in front of her face to protect it, and was cut along her arm. It stung like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she could feel that it wasn't healing. The werecoyote whimpered with pain as the cut began to burn even more, the smirk on the man becoming even more wicked.
"Where is Acheros?"
Malia furrowed her brows at the man, "Who the hell is that?"
It hasn't clicked in her mind that that name was on the Deadpool just like hers.
"Sorry, I meant Stiles Stilinski."
Malia straightened up slightly, "What do you want with Stiles?"
The smirk turned into a crooked smile, his sword lowering to his side making Malia a bit more comfortable.
"So you don't know. Stiles is like me, a demigod. And I'm here to kill him. For the money and for the satisfaction of killing a traitor."
