"It's a prison without bars..."

Hope couldn't remember the last time she had slept so soundly. She woke to incredible bliss. A peace that had grown inside, calming the anxiety she'd felt these last few weeks.

She knew it wasn't over. She knew there were still dangers out there waiting for her. Prowling Beacon Hills like a wild, starved animal. Still, she felt calm.

It wasn't that she thought she was safe; Hope knew she wasn't.

But she didn't feel that overwhelming fear anymore. Maybe it was because she discovered what she was capable of on her own, or perhaps it was Derek's words last night. She didn't have to worry about being trapped in a bubble, a prison cell. Instead, she was free to make her own choices while accessing help when needed.

She turned over in bed and gazed at where he had been lying. She wasn't sure when he left last night, but his words hummed gently in her mind over and over. A repeating record she never wanted to lose.

The way he understood made her smile.

Hope watched the birds outside her window for a bit longer as they hopped from branch to branch. Singing to each other. She didn't start to move until she heard movement beneath her. She frowned.

Was Derek still here?

Did Stiles come over? Scott?

Him?

Hopes muscles and wounds had healed overnight, but she was still a little stiff as she pulled the covers off her and slipped off the bed. She worked out the stiffness as she shoved herself into a quick outfit and tied back her hair messily. Ready to defend herself.

Descending the stairs quickly and quietly, she listened carefully. Taking in the scents, the sounds. Anything unfamiliar. She paused at the bottom of the staircase, and a slow smile spread over her lips.

It was the smell of strong coffee and Derek's unmistakable...irresistible scent.

She rounded the corner and stopped to see him standing in the kitchen, pouring two mugs of coffee. Her defensive posture melted away immediately, and she smiled.

He'd stayed the whole night. The thought made her grin way too broad. They hadn't done anything other than talk, but he'd stayed.

Derek flashed a crooked grin over his shoulder, "I uh...thought you might want some coffee."

"Your thought was exactly correct" she let out a little laugh and closed the gap between them with vampire speed. One moment she was in the doorway, and in the next, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face into his shirt.

Yes, the smell of smoky pine and musk. Delicious.

Before Hope could say anything more, Derek lifted her up by the waist and set her on the counter. Grinning broadly as his gaze pierced hers. Oh, she could stay like this forever.

"Thank you," she said softly, wistfully, watching his gaze flit over to the coffee. Then, smiling, she shook her head and took his face in her hands. "For last night. It just...feels nice to have someone believe in me."

Derek's hand rose to brush wisps of baby hair from her neck that had escaped her hair tie.

She closed her eyes. That touch would be the end of her.

"I know we need to talk more about last night and everything that happened, but if we could just hold off for like...five minutes."

Derek's lips skimmed hers before dipping his head to press a kiss on her throat.

"Or five hours. That would be nice too."

He chuckled against her throat. "As much as I'd love that, Scott and Stiles are at the front door," he said, pulling away to look at her.

Hope raised a brow. "Really? I'm actually a little surprised they're not barging in."

"Yeah, well, I suspect when you walked in covered in blood, Stiles has reconsidered his habit of entering unannounced."

"That's really all it took?" She grinned a little and shook her head. "That...sounded really bad."

With another deep chuckle, Derek shook his head and kissed her forehead. Then, he lifted her off the counter and onto the floor.

Hope bit her lip, squeezing his hands as she looked up at him. They'd be having a conversation later. A private one.

Until then, she knew she had to figure out what came next, and four heads were better than one. So she invited them in, and soon they were all in the living room drinking coffee around the table.

Scott sat across from her. She hadn't seen him in a while, and he didn't seem happy. He looked terrified.

"Allison said her dad was called to someplace out of town. She didn't hear much, but enough to know they were talking about some new threat in town. A threat that needs to be put down - immediately." Those brown eyes glimmered with concern and fear. "Are you the threat they're talking about? What did you do?"

Hope furrowed her brows and stared at him for a moment. "Why does that last part sound more like an accusation?"

"Maybe because it kind of is...." Scott continued. Hope felt Derek shift beside her, but he said nothing.

"And what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Murder."

Hope pursed her lips and nodded curtly. "Right, but if they had successfully killed me, what would that be called, Scott? They wouldn't call it murder. They'd call it their right. They have the right to kill me, but I don't have the right to defend myself? They came after me, alright? I did nothing to them. I entered a diner at the wrong place at the wrong time. They chose me to be a victim, and I said no."

Scott sat back on his heels with a sigh. She watched his expression, realizing he hadn't known that portion of the story. Whoever this Allison was, was probably being fed lies too.

Cringing a little, Stiles broke into the conversation.

"I think we all know this thing isn't over. Whatever is going on between the hunters here and those from out of town, it's bad. Like, really bad. So we want to help. To stop any more people from dying."

Hope nodded. "Okay, I can agree to that."

"Great. So what happened last night, without the gory details" he made a face.

So she told them and, as requested, left out the details of the kills.

Derek furrowed his dark brow and shook his head, asking the same question she was sure was on everyone's mind.

"Who's he?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, "The guy just said he would want me."

"And you said the guy had an accent?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, it was really thick. Scottish, I think."

"Do we know anyone around here with a thick Scottish accent?"

Both Derek and Scott shook their heads, leaving Stiles to sigh and nod. "Yeah, me either."

Hope frowned and shrugged. "I assumed he was part of the group that followed me here. You said there's a group here in town?"

Scott nodded now. "Yeah, the Argents. My girlfriend's family."

She was quiet for a moment and arched a brow. "You're...dating a girl with a whole family of werewolf hunters?"

"Yeah, we know, it's crazy and chaotic," Stiles started, "Let's get back to this other truck. What did it look like?"

"It was huge. Black, sleek. It blended right in until the lights came on, but the lights were massive, like panels on top, and so bright they blinded me," she continued, "There were these speakers too. They played crazy loud music. It was like being blinded all over again. And the windows were so tinted I couldn't see the interior at all."

Scott frowned. "You'd think a truck like that would stand out."

Hope took a long drink of the scalding coffee. It helped bring some life back into her joints, her fingertips feeling less chilled. She would need to grab a bag of blood soon, but she wasn't too keen on indulging in front of them.

"So, what's the plan?" Stiles asked, his eyes on her. "You took out a crap ton of hunters last night, after all."

Hope shrugged. "I don't know. Wait it out. See if they try to kill me."

She was met with silence from all of them before Stiles, in his lovely sarcastic tone, said, "Well, that's just great... that's proactive thinking. Why didn't I think of that?"

"What exactly do you expect me to do? Walk out and hunt down the rest of them? Take them all out in some bloody massacre?"

"I mean, not necessarily, but waiting around doesn't seem like such a good idea either."

Taking another sip of her coffee, she nodded. Hope understood. What she did last night was something she did to protect herself against an immediate threat. The man that threatened her existence was dead now. She wouldn't apologize to anyone for choosing her life over his.

"If I walk in ready to 'take care of business,' innocent people could get hurt. The man I killed threatened me directly, and the others shot me with arrows. So I will not make that first move. I can't justify it. But, when my life is threatened, I'll do what's necessary.

"That's always been my father's mistake. His life has been so paranoid that he never let himself live. He constantly planned, constantly conspired. Always overthinking about who might have wronged him and how he can prevent or avenge it. I promised myself that I wouldn't live my life like that, that I would never become him. Because that's not living. It's a prison without bars."

The afternoon passed with Hope describing the world of vampires, witches, and werewolves. Her species, anyway. The differences between them were a little jarring, but she anticipated that. She knew a lot was to be discovered, and this was a mere stepping stone into that never-ending journey.

Stiles asked many questions, and Hope did her best to answer without giving up her family's past.

"So what you're saying," Stiles took a bite of the pizza they'd ordered, "To become a werewolf for your kind, they have to trigger the gene they're born with by killing someone. That's awesome...."

Everyone shared the same look as they looked up at him.

"I mean," he narrowed his eyes and clenched his lips, "Totally sad and horrible, but more like...movie-action awesome." He cleared his throat. "I didn't realize there would be such a difference. What about wolfsbane? Does that affect you too?"

Hope nodded, popping a pepperoni in her mouth. "Hm, yeah. It's toxic in any form, but I have more of an...immunity to it."

"Really?" Scott asked, suddenly interested. "How? Is that a...tribrid thing?"

Hope shrugged. "Somewhat. It's like how people in the past have taken venom to grow a resistance to it. I take a little bit every day so that eventually, if someone uses it against me, I'm not as vulnerable."

"Wow," Stiles started, "Maybe you should have the pack do that..." he said, looking over at Derek, whose expression darkened immediately.

"Or...not..."

Hope looked over at him curiously. "You have a pack?" It clicked then, and she raised her brows. "Oh...the out-of-town business?"

Derek offered a hint of a smile. "I planned to tell you today..." he cast an evil glance at Stiles, who immediately hid his face in the soda can he was drinking.

"Hm, alpha with a pack to lead. I like it. When do I get to see it in action?" She asked, raising a brow, and she absolutely did not regret making anyone else uncomfortable.

"There's a training session tonight. You're welcome to spectate."

"With pleasure," she couldn't help the slight smirk from sneaking up on her. She'd trained her whole life, but this was the first time she was excited to attend.

"Maybe you might want to partake?" he asked, raising a curious brow.

"Oh, absolutely. I'd love the chance to put you on your ass," she smirked, biting her lower lip.

The expression from Derek was enough for Stiles to shift in his seat before standing up.

"Okay, please, God...just...wait till I leave the room," he started for the kitchen door, no doubt to get himself another slice, but turned, "But you know I will say he's a lot less of a sour wolf since you got here."

Derek turned his head to him. If looks could kill, Stiles would be dead.

"There it is" he quickly retreated into the kitchen.

Hope smiled and hugged onto his arm, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. Tonight was something to look forward to.