Hasn't published a new chapter in a month? Couldn't be me. This is another chapter that's changed quite a bit from the original, but very much for the better. Also, we have a new flashback of Hunter's heart-wrenching death in this chapter, but if you're in my discord, you already know that and have already read it. (Link at end of chapter if u wanna join) Without further adieu, here's your new chapter.

(3rd P.O.V.)

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know." Isaac gasps.

"It's alright, Kiddo." Lyrica smiles and turns back around in her seat, frantically wiping away her tears as they fall. "You didn't know."

Derek pulls into their long driveway and as soon as the car is in park, Lyrica jumps out, all but running inside.

"I'm sorry." Isaac mutters, hanging his head.

"Isaac, it's okay, really." Derek explains, turning off the car and getting out, moving his seat up for the teen. "You didn't know and you were curious. Nobody can blame you for that."

"Does she hate me now? Is that why she ran inside?" Isaac mutters as Derek closes the door and begins leading him towards the house.

"Absolutely not." Derek gives him a gentle smile. "She doesn't hate you. There's less than a handful of people she hates in this entire world. And something like asking about her family would never make her hate you."

Derek opens the door for the teen, watching as his eyes go wide at the interior of the home.

"It's a little bare, I know, but we're in the process of decorating."

"It's gorgeous." Isaac mutters, still looking around. Derek chuckles in the slightest and leads him up the stairs and to the right, stopping at the last doors in the hall.

"You can have either of these rooms." He says. "The one right here is the bathroom. The door at the top of the stairs and mine and Lyrica's room."

"Is-Is she okay?" Isaac asks, worried for the woman.

"She will be." Derek nods, subtly reaching out to feel her emotions. "She just doesn't like people seeing her upset, especially people she cares about. It took forever to get her to open up to me when we first met."

"I guess that's one more item added to our list of similarities." Isaac jokes and Derek smiles.

"Get some rest, Kiddo. We'll wake you up in the morning between 5:30 and 6."

"Are we gonna talk about what happened in the station? With my arm and your eyes?"

"After school, yes." Derek nods and pats his back. "Get some rest."

Isaac hesitantly goes into the bedroom on his right, only closing the door when he hears Derek walk away in the direction of his own bedroom.

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"SISSY!"

Lyrica's heart drops when she hears the scream, knowing it only meant one thing. With a loud snarl, she kicks the last coyote away from her and spins, sprinting through the trees with two sets of footsteps hot on her heels.

"Lyrica."

She finally reaches her destination, howling so loud the trees shake. The coyote's teeth release the pale skin of her brother's throat, blood everywhere. A sleek black wolf darts forward and the coyote sprints away from the gruesome scene, desperately trying to evade the wolf.

"Hunter, oh my God." Lyrica sobs, dropping to her knees next to the small boy. She desperately presses on the wound on his neck, her hands turning red from the copious amounts of blood.

"Sissy." Hunter cries, his voice weak and breaking.

"Derek what do we do?" Lyrica wails as sobs wrack her body.

"Here, use this." He replies, shakily moving her hands to press his jacket to the boy's neck and hold it in place.

"Oh my god Hunter, I'm so sorry." Lyrica sobs, looking over his trembling form, his baby blue tee stained a deep red.

"Lyrica."

Neither Lyrica or Derek look up as footsteps sound once more, Laura skidding through the damp leaves as she drops to her knees with the others, her blood-covered hands removing her own jacket to replace Derek's as the fabric fails to slow the bleeding.

"What do we do?" Lyrica sobs, tears clouding her vision as she cradles Hunter's pale cheek, the veins in her hand immediately turning black at the contact.

"He was bit by an alpha." Laura says, her voice shaking. "There's nothing we can do."

"God no." Lyrica sobs even harder, clutching onto the boy she raised. "There has to be something. Hunter, don't leave me."

"Sissy." He cries, voice nearly inaudible.

"I'm here, Hunter. I'm here, Buddy." She cries, moving further into his line of sight.

"I-I love you, Sissy." He stutters, understanding what was happening despite his young, naive mind.

"I love you too, Buddy. I love you too." Her voice cracks, cupping his cheeks despite the blood all over her hands. His blood.

The three adults listen, their hearts breaking further as the boy's stops, an agonized scream tearing from Lyrica's lips as she hugs her brother's limp body.

"Lyrica!"

The woman gasps through her tears, pulled from her memory by her mate's voice.

"Hey, look at me." He says, cupping her cheeks and wiping her tears. "It's alright. You're here. Just breathe."

"I'm sorry." She sighs, tears slowing as Derek pulls her into his arms.

"Don't you ever apologize, Baby. Never."

"Is-Is Isaac okay?" She mutters. "I didn't mean to upset him or anything, I just-"

"Hey." Derek pulls back, holding her at arm's length. "You didn't upset him. If anything, you just scared him a little. Worried him. I talked to him and he understands. He's in bed. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Not really." Lyrica sighs, tears gone but eyes red and puffy as she runs her fingers through her hair.

"That's alright. Let's get into bed, okay? It's been a long day."

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-The Next Day-

The start of the day flies by for the Hales and Isaac, with Derek visiting his catatonic uncle in the hospital while Lyrica and Isaac went to the school. Due to it being the second day of school, everyone was released 2 hours early, so Isaac and Lyrica got home around the same time as Derek.

"Can we have that talk now?" Isaac asks, sitting at the kitchen bar while Derek and Lyrica dance around the kitchen, making lunch. "Because I'm honestly so confused about this tattoo thing."

"Of course." Lyrica chuckles, carefully cutting up veggies for a salad. "But we need you to understand that what we're about to tell you has to stay private. If the wrong people hear about it, all of us would be put in danger."

"Are you guys drug dealers or something? Or like mafia leaders?"

"Worse." Derek replies, turning to face the teen. "There's all kinds of lore about the supernatural on the internet. I'm sure you've heard of the basics?"

"Yeah." Isaac nods, frowning in confusion. "Vampires, werewolves, fairies, mermaids, all that stuff. What does this have to do with you?"

"We're werewolves, Isaac." Derek allows his eyes to turn their steel blue, and holds his hand up for the teen to see as he extends his claws.

"How?"

"I was born one. It's like a gene, and most of my family had it."

"Lyrica?" Isaac asks and she sets down her knife, flashing her blue eyes as well and grinning to show her sharp canines.

"I was born a human." She explains, going back to cutting the cucumber. "When I was 15, I was bitten and turned."

"Can any werewolf turn another?"

"No." Derek shakes his head, pulling out tomatoes to add to the salad. "There's 3 different ranks of werewolves. Alphas, betas, and omegas. Alphas are the strongest and they can turn humans into werewolves with a bite. Betas are just your regular, everyday werewolf. They can become alphas if they kill one. Omegas are lone wolves. They typically don't survive long on their own because they're weakened without a pack and they're more susceptible to hunters."

"Hunters? You're telling me there's idiots out there who hunt down and kill people just for being werewolves?" Isaac gapes.

"Precisely." Lyrica nods. "There's also werecoyotes. Pretty much the same as werewolves but they can almost always turn into an actual coyote. It's rare that werewolves have the gene, but it does run in the Hale family."

"So what's this mark, then?" Isaac runs his fingers over the design on his arm, wincing at the pain.

"One subject you'll hear a lot of with werewolves or just wolves in general is mates. There's a bunch of different lore, but with werewolves, mates are extremely rare. There's no gene for it, and as far as anyone can tell, it's completely random when mates are created. Mates are two werewolves who are destined to be together."

"Why do I have a feeling you two are mates?"

"Your feeling would be correct." Derek chuckles. "That mark on your arm is called a triskelion, or a triskele. It has many different meanings, but for my family, each spiral represents a status."

"Alpha, beta, omega." Isaac nods.

"Yeah. We use the symbol to help teach young or new wolves control. When mates are created, there's 2 different ways they get their mark, which is how they find each other. If they're born, like me, the mark shows up somewhere random on their body after their first full moon. Mine appeared on my back when I was 11. On bitten wolves, it appears where they were bitten."

"So some alpha tried to rip your throat out?" Isaac gapes at the brunette.

"Yes. And I would have died if it wasn't for the mark. Even if human, the mate mark makes it so the mates can't die in any way until they find each other." Lyrica nods, slapping Derek's hand away from the cucumber slices.

"If mates are werewolf things, then why is it on me? I'm not a werewolf."

"Honestly, we don't entirely know." Derek sighs. "It's hard to find concrete reasoning with mates, because of how rare they are. My best guess? You aren't leaving us anytime soon and you're a part of our pack, human or not."

"I think I can live with that." Isaac nods and both adults smile.

"Well, how about we eat lunch and then go outside?" Lyrica suggests. "It's a beautiful day and we gotta fix the bumper and latch on the Camaro and the Impala could use an oil change."

"You guys can fix those on your own?" Isaac frowns in confusion as they all move to the dining table, Lyrica bringing in the salad and sandwiches while Derek brings the plates and cutlery.

"Yeah, of course. We can teach you if you want."

"Maybe." Isaac nods, but Lyrica and Derek can both tell he's not fully interested.

"Or if you want you can bring your lacrosse stuff out and practice while we work on the cars. I can nail a can or a basket to a tree for a net." Derek suggests.

"You'd do that?" Isaac mutters, eyes wide.

"Of course. You don't have to be glued to our sides, but you deserve to have fun too."

"Thank you." Isaac grins and the three dig into their meal.

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Later on in the day, Isaac, Lyrica, and Derek are all outside of their home, Isaac with his lacrosse stick and some balls trying to launch them into a basket nailed to a tree, Lyrica underneath her Impala as she works, and Derek looking between the teen and his Camaro as he replaces the latch.

As Derek crouches down and easily pushes the dent to its proper place, he listens to the sound of Isaac's ball smacking into the bark of the tree, followed by an aggravated sigh. With a small chuckle, the adult rises and moves closer to the teen.

"What's wrong?" He asks, watching as Isaac throws another ball and fails to get it in the makeshift goal.

"I can't get the ball in the basket. I mean, it shouldn't be that hard because it's a big basket but for some reason I just can't get it in." Isaac complains, going to fetch his balls as Derek tries to think of a way to help the teen.

"You're thinking about it too much." He explains when Isaac returns.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never played lacrosse before in my life, but when I played basketball in high school, one thing our coach always drilled into our heads was to stop thinking when we shot. If we're too lost in our heads, we can't focus enough to make the shot."

"You played basketball? Why can't I picture that?"

"Not the point." He chuckles. "What's going on in your mind that you can't focus?"

"Nothing, really." Isaac sighs. "I mean, it's weird, normally my mind is racing but right now it's calm. Peaceful."

"Then maybe it's not a mental problem." Lyrica suggests, walking over while wiping her hands on a rag, both males noticing the oil in her hair and smeared across her forehead but choosing to say nothing. "What I've noticed, at least, is that you don't move like the stick is a part of you when you shoot."

"Am I supposed to?" Isaac frowns, looking at the woman with a raised brow.

"Not necessarily, but it may help. Think of the stick as an extension of your arm. Try holding the stick right below the net and shooting, and then gradually move your hand down the stick. Get used to the difference in where the ball rests, and you'll be able to make the shot more."

Stopping for a moment to take the information in, Isaac nods and does as Lyrica suggested, holding the stick much higher than he's supposed to, before taking the shot. His jaw drops as the ball lands in the basket.

"Holy crap!" He laughs. "You were right! Thanks Mo-Lyrica."

Both werewolves catch the slip up but choose not to mention it, seeing the teen's cheeks flare red at his own words.

"Keep working on it, Kiddo. You got this." She chuckles before going back to her car. Derek pats him on the back before doing the same, resuming his work on his broken trunk latch.

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