Peter Hale

The hallway is unnervingly quiet.
You were on your way to your next class when the new “substitute teacher” called your name—his voice calm,crisp,almost too controlled.You turned,hesitated,then stepped inside the empty classroom.

The door clicked shut behind you.
And locked.Your stomach dropped.

Peter Hale leaned against the desk,hands folded behind him,wearing that same unsettlingly polite smile—the one that never reached his eyes “Finally” he murmured.

You swallow hard “You’re not a teacher”

“No” he agrees, taking a slow step forward “But it was the easiest way to get you alone without your brother or his little pack interfering”

Scott.Of course.
Your pulse spikes—Peter hears it instantly
His smile widens

“You have no idea how loud your heartbeat is to me” he says softly, almost reverently. “How impossible it is to ignore.”

You back up.He follows.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper.

“And yet,” his head tilts, “you came when I called. That means something, don’t you think?” His tone is calm, almost gentle—cruelly gentle. “Don’t be afraid. If I wanted to harm you, you’d already be screaming.”

“That doesn't make me feel safer.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”His eyes glow blue for a split second.

“I’ve watched you,” he admits, voice low. “Every hallway.Every class.Every time you look over your shoulder,wondering why you feel like someone’s there”
He steps closer,lowering his voice to a whisper“It’s because I am”

Your hand grips the doorknob—futile.
The lock doesn't budge.
Peter stands close enough for the temperature around you to drop.

“Scott thinks he can protect you” Peter says “He can’t even protect himself.You, however…you’re special in ways he is too blind to see.”

You shake your head “Stop.This is insane”

“That’s the thing” Peter says,expression twisting into something darker,something raw “I don’t care if you think I’m insane.I don’t care if you’re afraid.I don’t care if you hate me.I only care that you understand,you are not walking out of here,love"