NOTE: don't forget to join my Patreon.com/Argonaut007 to get access up to 10+ Advance chapters.
------
Three years had a way of changing everything.
People grew.
Power shifted.
Enemies either adapted… or disappeared.
But some things refused to change.
The forest surrounding Beacon Hills remained exactly as it had always been—ancient, quiet, and endlessly watchful beneath the silver glow of the moon. The towering pines stood like silent sentinels, their roots buried deep into soil that had witnessed centuries of blood, secrets, and survival.
Only now—
That forest no longer belonged to nature alone.
It belonged to wolves.
And the supernatural world had learned that truth the hard way.
Hunters who once moved boldly through these lands now avoided it entirely, their routes shifting miles away just to steer clear of Beacon Hills. Creatures that thrived in chaos passed through quickly, never lingering, never testing their luck.
Because stories had spread.
Not just rumors—but warnings.
Whispers carried through underground networks, through covens hidden in cities, through packs scattered across continents, and through hunter lodges bound by ancient codes.
Every story, no matter how distorted over distance, always circled back to one name.
Arthur Corvinus.
The Last Blood.
The White Wolf.
The being who had stood alone… and dismantled an army.
And the same creature who now lived quietly in a town most people still believed was ordinary.
Beacon Hills — Present Day
Moonlight filtered gently through the canopy of towering trees as Arthur walked along a narrow trail deep within the preserve. His steps were unhurried, almost casual, as if he were simply enjoying the quiet of the night.
But nothing about him was ordinary anymore.
Time had not aged him in the way it did others—it had refined him.
His once dark hair had long since lost its original color, now permanently snow-white, falling loosely across his forehead. It framed his face in a way that made his crimson eyes stand out even more—eyes that glowed faintly in the darkness, like embers that never truly faded.
Yet it wasn't his appearance that made him unsettling.
It was his presence.
The forest reacted to him.
Not out of fear alone—but recognition.
Animals kept their distance without needing to see him. Their instincts warned them long before he came into view. The wind itself seemed to curve subtly around him, shifting direction as if unwilling to disturb whatever force he carried.
Arthur stopped mid-step.
Not because he heard something.
But because he felt it.
His senses extended outward, stretching far beyond what any normal creature could perceive. The ground beneath his feet transmitted faint vibrations, subtle shifts that mapped movement across distance. The air carried traces—scent, temperature, absence.
His nose twitched slightly.
Then he frowned.
"…Great."
His gaze shifted toward the deeper part of the forest, where the trees grew denser and the shadows darker.
"More visitors."
He inhaled slowly.
No heartbeat.
No warmth.
No living rhythm.
Only the slow, unnatural circulation of blood through bodies that should not function at all.
Cold.
Still.
Dead.
Arthur exhaled through his nose, irritation flickering across his expression.
"Just what this town needed."
Hale House
The rebuilt Hale residence stood strong once more, no longer a ruin but a symbol of reclaimed power. Its structure blended modern reinforcement with the weight of old legacy, a place where strength was not just inherited—but forged daily.
Inside, the pack had already felt the disturbance.
Derek Hale stepped out onto the porch, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on the distant tree line. His eyes glowed faintly, the wolf within him sharpening his perception.
Behind him stood Talia Hale.
Calm.
Composed.
Unshaken.
"You felt them," Derek said, though it wasn't a question.
Talia nodded once, her senses extending far beyond what most could manage.
"Five… maybe six."
A brief pause.
"Vampires."
Derek's jaw tightened.
"They crossed the boundary."
"They didn't wander in," Talia replied evenly. "They came here with purpose."
Inside the house, movement began almost instantly. Members of the pack prepared themselves without needing orders—claws extending slowly, muscles tightening, instincts rising to the surface.
Weapons were gathered, though most of them barely needed them.
But before anyone could move—
Talia raised her hand.
"Wait."
Derek turned to her, brows furrowing slightly.
"You think Arthur already knows?"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"My son has been aware of them since the moment they stepped into his forest."
(AN: don't complain about the term, he is adopted remember. there is nothing wrong with it)
Beacon Hills High School — Parking Lot
Not everyone in Beacon Hills understood the truth of what lurked beyond the surface.
Not yet.
Under the fading light of the evening, the high school parking lot sat mostly empty, the usual noise of students long gone. Two figures remained, perched casually on the hood of a worn jeep.
Stiles Stilinski kicked a pebble across the pavement, watching it bounce aimlessly.
"Okay, I'm just saying… something weird is happening in this town."
Scott McCall, sitting beside him, let out a tired sigh.
"You say that every week."
"Because every week something weird does happen," Stiles shot back, pointing toward the distant tree line.
"You've noticed it too."
Scott shrugged, though his expression betrayed a hint of doubt.
"Not really."
Stiles leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a conspiracy.
"Animals disappearing. Strange noises at night. My dad's been getting calls he won't talk about."
Scott shook his head.
"You're overthinking it."
"Am not."
Stiles crossed his arms, glaring slightly.
"Something lives in those woods."
Scott smirked.
"Yeah. Deer."
Stiles deadpanned.
"I hate you."
Neither of them noticed the faint glow that flickered deep within the forest.
Two crimson lights.
Watching.
Deep in the Preserve
Six figures moved between the trees with unnatural grace.
They didn't disturb the ground.
They didn't breathe.
They simply glided.
Their movements were fluid in a way that defied life itself—too smooth, too precise, too controlled.
Vampires.
Their skin was pale, almost luminescent beneath the moonlight, their eyes sharp and calculating. Predators in every sense—yet even they carried a subtle tension.
Because this was not their territory.
At the front, their leader moved with quiet authority. Tall, composed, dressed in a long black coat that barely shifted despite his speed.
One of the vampires spoke in a low voice.
"We should proceed carefully."
The leader didn't stop.
"This land belongs to wolves."
Another asked, more cautious.
"And the Corvinus descendant?"
The leader's gaze sharpened.
"That is why we are here."
Then—
A voice cut through the silence.
"You guys always announce yourselves like this?"
Every single one of them stopped.
Turned.
Arthur stepped out from the shadows as if he had always been there.
Moonlight revealed him fully.
Snow-white hair catching the light like silver threads.
Crimson eyes glowing—not brightly, but steadily, like controlled fire.
And his presence—
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
But absolute.
Arthur crossed his arms casually.
"You came all the way to my forest just to stand around?"
The vampire leader studied him carefully, taking in every detail.
"So it's true."
Arthur tilted his head slightly.
"What is?"
The vampire's voice lowered.
"The bloodline of Alexander Corvinus."
Arthur sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Oh great."
"Another history lecture."
One of the vampires stepped forward cautiously.
"You are something unprecedented."
Arthur shrugged.
"Yeah, I've heard that one before."
The leader stepped closer now, his gaze sharpening as he observed Arthur more closely—not just his appearance, but the subtle details beneath it.
The way his body held itself.
The way the air reacted to him.
The way the forest responded.
Then—
Slowly—
The vampire inclined his head.
Not submission.
Respect.
"We came to confirm something."
Arthur raised a brow.
"And?"
The vampire spoke carefully.
"You are the closest living being to the origin of the Corvinus bloodline."
Arthur blinked once.
"…That sounds important."
"It is."
Arthur scratched the back of his head, unimpressed.
"Look, if this is about starting a fight, I'm not really in the mood tonight."
The leader shook his head.
"We did not come for battle."
Arthur frowned.
"Then why are you here?"
The vampire's next words carried weight.
"Because if you truly exist…"
A pause.
"…then a war that began centuries ago may begin again."
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then—
He smiled.
Slow.
Sharp.
"Then when that war comes… whose side will your faction choose?"
The vampire didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze drifted toward the distant horizon, as if weighing something far beyond the present moment.
"Everyone who fears what you might become."
His voice lowered.
And then—
Silence.
Arthur's expression didn't change.
But something in the air did.
"Be sure to choose the right side," Arthur said slowly, his voice calm but carrying a quiet threat beneath it. "Because when that time comes…"
His crimson eyes burned faintly.
"I won't show mercy."
A pause.
"I'm already tired of being watched like some animal in a cage."
The wind stirred gently through the trees.
The vampire leader studied him one last time, as if trying to measure something immeasurable.
Then he turned.
"Prepare yourself, Arthur Corvinus."
Arthur didn't move.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I've been doing that my whole life."
The vampires vanished into the forest as silently as they had arrived.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just absence.
Leaving Arthur alone beneath the moonlight.
He stood there for several seconds, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the direction they had gone.
His mind already turning.
Already calculating.
Because this wasn't just a visit.
It was a warning.
And deep down—
Arthur already knew.
The world wasn't going to stay quiet much longer.