Hey everyone! This is my first teen wolf fic, though I have written two others, for Sherlock and Doctor Who. Both are in progress at the moment. Derek and Stiles are my favorite characters, but no, not a Sterek shipper, sorry. I'm taking a stab at having song lyrics with each chapter, which hopefully won't be too disastrous. I should be able to update every Friday. Hope you like my story!

Please follow and review, it would mean so much.

Disclaimer: I only own my OC, and her family. All else belongs to the writers and producers of Teen Wolf.

I'm ready, ready to run free

I'd like to know what lies beyond the blue sea

I want the sky to open wide

Illuminate this fire inside

I want the sky

I Want the Sky- Lucy Schwartz

She was running. Not running from something, or towards something, just running. And she loved the feeling of it, her feet pounding against the hard-packed earth, her muscles rippling under her skin, the confidence that only came with knowing you were faster than anything.


She jumped to the side just in time and sprang into the air, staring back the way she came. The barrel of a gun was pointed at her head, the figure behind the weapon so familiar yet alien in the way it was contorted by hate.

She turned and sprinted away, heart pounding, but there was no joy this time. This time, she was running from something. And she was so afraid.

She awoke with a jerk as her alarm went off. The sound of a sweet song filled the stuffy air of her bedroom, but she didn't feel sweet. She felt exhausted, like the song should be angry with drum-pounding beat.

"Rayne! Sweetheart, are you awake yet?" Her mom called up the stairs, and Rayne groaned.

"Big day today!" Her mom said a little louder.

"Don't remind me." Rayne muttered before sitting up unsteadily.

"I'm up, Mom!" She shouted down the stairs.

She looked around her room. It was mostly unpacked, but she still had a couple boxes to go through. They were mostly filled with photographs and books, memories of her old life. She looked inside on of them.

A grinning family stared back at her. They stood in front of a tall building. The Empire State, as a matter of fact. A man had his arm around Rayne, holding her close. That used to be her family, but not anymore. Not since her father had left.

How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? Not long enough for Rayne to want to see that picture.

She closed the box firmly and moved to her closet. The first thing she had unpacked had been her clothes.

She shuffled through, looking for anything that caught her eye.

"No, no, no, no, no." She said absentmindedly before coming across a gray sweater that would hang off her shoulders. She slipped into her black skinny jeans hanging over her dresser and pulled on her heeled black boots. She headed to her bathroom and looked in the mirror critically.

Her light brown hair had the worst case of bedhead. She yanked a brush through it, letting the loose waves fall to her waistline. She lined her faded blue eyes with black eyeliner and brushed a couple coats of mascara on her eyelashes. She looked herself up and down one more time and nodded in satisfaction.

"Perfectly ordinary." She said, and she heard her bedroom door open.


"In here, Mom." Rayne slipped a necklace with a dark red stone pendant wrapped in silver wire over her head.

Her mom looked sad. She hadn't looked happy for a while, but she smiled. In her hand she held a black velvet box.

"For you." Her mom extended her hands, and Rayne smiled widely.

"Thanks Mom." She said, opening the box. Her mouth fell open, and she looked at her mom with shock.

"I can't." She said.

"Yes, you can." Her mom said firmly, and Rayne saw a hint of the strong woman she used to be in the set of her jaw. "He isn't here anymore. Don't be afraid to be who you are."

Rayne looked back in the mirror. She didn't see someone who was afraid. She saw herself, looking confident, hiding the nervousness.

She slipped the earrings into her bottom-most holes, fitting the backing on with ease. In her second hole went small diamond studs, and into her upper piercing went a tiny black hoop.

"You look beautiful." Her mom said, and Rayne rolled her eyes.

"You're supposed to say that."

"It's true." Her mom said with another smile before heading down the stairs. Rayne looked at herself again before turning away and following her mom.

Rayne's car was her worst nightmare contained in an object. It made noise, it looked terrible, and it stood out from the crowd of classy cars in the parking lot.

She grabbed her messenger bag, slung it over her shoulder, and took a deep breath.

She began moving toward the entrance, walking past an old, light blue Jeep, a motorbike, and a high-end Porsche on her way. A couple of guys walked toward her. She didn't look at them, but she could feel their eyes on her as she headed up the steps.

A couple girls passed her and one gave her the stink-eye. Rayne kept walking. She just had to get through today.

Another group of boys smirked as she walked past. One of them looked her up and down, and she resisted the urge to toss him over her shoulder. She knew she could.

But that wouldn't exactly be blending in.

She walked inside and turned to the left, not really knowing where she was going, but hoping to escape the stares. What was so different about her anyway?

"If you're looking for the principal's office, it's just down the hall." A friendly voice said, and Rayne turned to see a girl about her height, with dark reddish-brown hair and brown eyes.

"Thanks." Rayne replied.

"I'm Allison, by the way." The girl smiled.

"Rayne. Rayne Moore." Rayne replied with a smile of her own.

"Nice name. I can show you where the principal's office is, if you want." Allison offered, and Rayne nodded.

"Please. I need all the help I can get." She said, and they began walking.

"Are you a sophomore?" Allison asked.

"Yeah. Just transferred schools." Rayne said.

"I am too. I can introduce you to a couple people, if you want."

"Yeah. Maybe I'll find you later." Rayne said as they stopped in front of a door.

"Totally. See you!" Allison headed back down the hall, and Rayne turned to the door.

She pushed it open, and the principal looked at her.

"You must be Rayne Moore." He said, and she smiled and nodded.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills. I understand you transferred here from up north."

"Yes, sir." She said.

"Well, here is your schedule and a map of the school. I can take you to your first class, if you'd like." He didn't look too enthusiastic, so Rayne shook her head.

"That's fine. I'm sure I can find my way." She said, and he nodded.

"Off you go."

Rayne turned and walked back out. She pondered the map for a moment before setting off.

She realized she was five minutes late as she looked inside. She pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Everyone looked at her, and the teacher pursed his lips.

"Wrong classroom." He drawled, before turning back to his students.

"Is this Chemistry with Mr. Harris?" Rayne asked.

"Yes." The man said.

"It's my first day. I'm pretty sure I'm in the right place." Rayne said, and the man squinted at her.

"Ms. Moore?"

Rayne nodded.

"Have a seat." The man gestured aimlessly, and Rayne looked around. The only open one was next to a redheaded girl. Rayne moved to sit down.

"Oh, and Ms. Moore?" Rayne looked at Mr. Harris.

"If you're late again, new student or not, you'll be out of my class. Do you understand?" He said bitterly, and Rayne tensed before smiling pleasantly.

"Of course." She said, sitting down and dropping her bag on the floor. Mr. Harris gave her a sour glance.

The girl looked at her briefly before turning her head to Mr. Harris. Rayne could feel something a bit off about her, but she ignored it.

Rayne bent to get her things when something odd happened. She smelled something, something familiar and sweet and musky. Her heartbeat quickened. She turned slowly to look behind her.

Two boys sat behind her. One was paying attention, but the other looked away quickly from her eyes. She couldn't tell which the scent was coming from, but she knew it was one of them. And she had to find out.

A few minutes later, she could hear them talking. Then, a paper ball sailed right over her head and to the front of the class, bouncing off of Mr. Harris' gelled head.

He spun around as a couple kids giggled.

"Who in hell threw that?"

Rayne turned to look at the two boys behind her and saw them pointing at each other instantly. She was unable to keep a smile off her face.

Classes blurred together. She had none with Allison that day, but she saw the two boys, always together, talking frequently. She had to do something about the scent that filled her head with questions.

Was she right? How was this possible? Why did she move to a place with one of them?

"Hey." A boy spoke to her, and she jumped.

"I'm Jackson. I'm captain of the lacrosse team." He said with a smirk.

"Um, okay." Rayne said.

"So, I was thinking about something."

"Really? Is that, like, an extraordinary event?" Rayne asked sarcastically.

"Well, you're beautiful, and I'm gorgeous, so we should hang sometime."

Rayne shook her head. "No thanks."


"You're not really my type."

"I'm everyone's type."

"Then I'm impossible." Rayne said, walking off. Jackson thankfully didn't follow, and Rayne breathed a sigh of relief as she rounded a corner.

At lunch, when she walked in, she looked around for them. There they were, alone at their table. She moved to sit down with her tray next to them, pretending she wasn't nervous at all.

As she walked towards them, she noticed the redhead who she had sat next to in Chemistry, Lydia, and Allison sitting together with a few other people. Rayne wanted to sit with them, she really did, but this was more important to her.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She asked the boy who had been staring at her. He looked up, and his eyes widened.

"Uh, uh, um, ye-yeah-"

"He means yes." The other boy said, and Rayne smiled.

"Thanks." She said, sitting down next to the speechless one.

"I'm Rayne, by the way." She said.

"Scott." The boy said. His dark hair matched his eyes, and his skin was darker as well. He looked vaguely Hispanic.

"Stiles." The other boy said. He had lighter skin and blue eyes.

"I think they're trying to get your attention." Scott said, and Rayne lifted her head to look at Lydia and Allison. Lydia was trying to wave her over, but Rayne just smiled.

"That's okay. You're in my chem class, right?" She asked.

"Mm-hmm." Stiles said, looking at her with that same wide-eyed surprise.

"I'm horrible at chemistry. Did either of you get any of that?" Rayne admitted with a half-smile. She still couldn't tell which one that smell was coming off of.

"Something we can all bond over. A mutual hate for science." Stiles said, and Rayne laughed.

"It's my first day, and Mr. Harris already hates me." She looked at Scott, who seemed distracted. Rayne saw the way he looked at Allison and smiled.

"Are you two together?" She asked, and Scott stared at her.

"Um, no." He said, but she knew he was lying. She gave him a look, and he sighed.

"Don't tell anyone? Please? Her parents don't exactly approve of me." He asked, and Rayne smiled.

"Course not." She said easily.

They kept talking through lunch, and though Rayne hadn't accomplished what she had wanted, she felt herself falling back into the feeling of making friends. Scott was nice and sweet, and Stiles was always ready with a sarcastic comment that kept Rayne laughing. They both seemed surprised that she was there, but Rayne managed to put them at ease quickly enough.

They stood up to clear their trays, and Rayne bumped into Scott.

"Sorry." She said quickly, and her senses heightened. She knew now. She knew. Even as she met his eyes, her heart quickened to a rapid pace.

Her new friend, the nice guy, the ordinary one, he was it.

He was the werewolf she had smelled.

Later that afternoon, she was just leaving school. Most of the other kids had gone home, but she had stayed behind to run laps at the track. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck unpleasantly, but she loved the feeling of running.

She walked through the parking lot to her car and heard the screech of tires. She looked up just in time to see a black Camaro pull away from the curb.

"I wish I had that car." She murmured before getting in her own.

"I'm home." Rayne called.

"I'm in the kitchen." Her mom answered, and Rayne pondered whether or not she wanted to eat.

"I'm going to get started on homework, okay?" She said, walking up the stairs quickly.

She went into her bathroom and began taking off jewelry, piece by piece. When she got to the earrings her mother had given her, she paused.

Two tiny wolf-heads, howling at the moon, were engraved into the silver. She supposed it was ironic, wearing silver and being who she was. But her mom was right. She didn't need to be afraid to be who she was. It had taken her the better part of six months to accept it, but she had finally come to terms with it.

Rayne looked into her own eyes, and they briefly flashed amber before she smiled wryly and took out the little wolves.

It was late that night when Rayne felt the fear and pain. She woke up gasping and rolled out of bed, catching herself before she hit the floor just barely. She looked out the window at the town. Everything looked peaceful, but something was horribly wrong. She could feel it, thickening the air that she moved through, infecting her heart and lungs with speed.

She opened the window and swung a leg out.

Her light flicked on, and she froze.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her mom asked coldly, and Rayne turned.

"Um," She faced her mom, "not sure. Something is off."

Her mom sighed. "I thought we went over this. We're making a new start, remember? A normal life."

"There is something going on. I can feel it. Fear and pain and I can't just sit by and do nothing." Rayne protested.

Her mom collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. The bags under her eyes spoke of fear and grief.

"I just don't want you getting hurt." She said, and Rayne sat down next to her.

"I know. I know Mom. But you said that I shouldn't be afraid to be myself. And now that something is practically shoving me out the door, you're telling me to ignore it?" Rayne asked gently, and her mom bowed her head.

"Be safe. Please. For me. Be safe." She whispered before standing up and moving out the door. Rayne watched her go before standing up and pulling off her clothes.

The transformation came easily to her. Her fur grew longer and longer, her teeth sharpened into fangs, and her legs got longer as she sank to all fours.

Most werewolves weren't like her. She was a strange one, looking like a full wolf when she truly transformed. She could become like the others by holding back just a little. When she passed in front of a mirror, her amber eyes glinted and she could just make out the tan-red shadow of her fur.

She leapt out her open window without another glance back and began running toward the source of the fear.

Her legs extended smoothly beneath her and her breath came easily to her lungs. Being a wolf was like being part of the world. You could see everything sharper, smell anything, and hear the slightest noise. Rayne used to go into the woods and just run for the sheer pleasure of it. Nothing compared to that feeling of being under the wide-open sky and complete freedom.

Of course, she was running to the source of pain and rage, so that put a damper on things.

She followed the emotion to a building and paused when she saw the sign outside.

Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department.

Shit, shit, shit. She thought as she trotted toward the doors, staying in the shadows. She could smell five distinctive scents. The woman at the front desk, another middle-aged man, a younger man, a teenager, and…

Stiles. The unmistakable scent of mowed grass mixed with peppermint filled her strong nose. She felt her own fear, a powerful motivator to find them, and find them quickly. She felt the full moon on her back. It lent her strength, but it made her feel more vicious, more like the animal. Her human self had to fight to be heard. But she was in control.

She sniffed the air, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the smell. Fear flooded her, and she knew it wasn't her own. It was too strong for that.

She ran for the source, ignoring the flashing lights coming from the building and the loud fire alarm going off. She saw a gleam of light off a window just big enough for her to leap through.

Her legs moved confidently toward it, the urge to protect her newest friend too strong to turn back now. Her human side was proclaiming all the ways this could go wrong, but she never listened to her head. Only her heart.

She surged for the glass, feeling in shatter and break through her. Shards pelted her coat, but none penetrated. She could smell three men in this room, one unconscious, one afraid, and one werewolf deathly angry.

And then she landed, sharp eyes taking in the details of the situation even as she dropped. She saw Stiles' eyes follow her as she sailed over him, and the growling werewolf with that feral need to kill in his amber eyes. She landed easily on all fours, and stared viciously at the werewolf, her eyes lit up like coals.

He took a single step forward, and Rayne snarled menacingly, taking one single step forward. Her lip curled up over her teeth, and her coat bushed out, making her look bigger than she was.

There was the sound of soft footsteps at the doorway, and Rayne turned her head slightly, keeping most of her attention on the now cowering werewolf.

A man stood there, tall, muscular, with a black leather jacket. His eyes flashed red, and he roared at the werewolf, who shrank back against the wall even more.

He stared at Rayne, and she couldn't help but stare back into his pale jade eyes. Not because he was clearly a werewolf and an Alpha, at that, no, that wasn't it. It was more the fact that his appearance sparked a rolling feeling in Rayne's stomach.

Damn. He was so hot it was unfair.

Rayne shook herself out of her prolonged stare and looked back at the werewolf, who had transformed back, sweat beading his face. She felt a pang of sympathy. From the looks of it, it was his first full moon. She remembered all too clearly what that had been like for her.

She heard a scrape behind her. Her head turned to look at Stiles, who was watching her with wide eyes. When she met them, they narrowed. Rayne had known him for only a day, but she figured that look meant he recognized something about her.

She jumped towards him, and he threw up his hands to protect himself as she sailed back through the broken window. She hit the ground sprinting for home, wanting to get as far away before the police came back.

She ran through the woods freely, not in a hurry to get home. She leapt on top of a massive tree stump and stared over the forest. It was beautiful at night. The moon shone off every drop of water, and she wanted to howl up to the moon as loudly as she could.

Something about it reminded her she still had school tomorrow. Reluctantly, she trotted for home, her aching muscles telling her she would be sore tomorrow.

The next day in chemistry, Rayne was there first, just to spite Mr. Harris. Within a few minutes, Stiles and Scott appeared. Scott sat down in front of Rayne, and to her surprise, Stiles moved next to her. She smiled and leaned down to pick up her bag. She stifled a groan of pain as her muscles protested.

"Rough night?" Stiles asked.

"My workout was brutal." Rayne lied.

Stiles nodded. "I get it. Lacrosse leaves me sore all the time. What do you do for a workout, anyway? Does, um," he glanced around, "does it usually include jumping through windows?"

Rayne stared at his knowing eyes and sighed. "How did you know?" She asked resignedly.

"I recognized something that reminded me of you. Add that to the way you looked shocked when you met Scott, and-"

"Does he know?" Rayne looked at Scott.


"So that's a yes. Okay, then. My secret is out." Rayne said with another smile.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked.

"A werewolf. Just a werewolf. But I'm the one with questions. Who are you? How many of you are werewolves? What's going on with this town where murders are normal?"

Stiles looked at her in surprise. "I figured that's why you moved."

"I was trying to get away from all of this, actually."

"Better move then. So far, we have three werewolves in town, not including you, some monster attacking people, the hunters-"

Rayne's blood ran ice-cold. "Hunters?"

"And I'm the only normal-sorry, what?"

"Hunters? What hunters?"

"Yeah, the Argents. Do you know them or something?"

Rayne was immersed in her memories of the past.


"Sorry. Um, a little. I ran into them in my old town." She said, her tone calm and flat.

"Well, okay, then. The big, bad grandpa just moved in, and he doesn't sound like good news."

Rayne looked at Stiles. "So, what can I do to help?"

Scott turned in surprise. "You want to help?" He asked.

"Eavesdropping much?" Rayne said.

"Sorry." He said apologetically.

"It's fine. I do, though. I want to help. How can I?"

"Um, well, we just kind of go with the flow, I guess." Scott said.

"You don't have a pack, do you?" Rayne asked.

"You don't either." Scott said back.

"You know our kind is more powerful working together. I say we make our own kind of pack, us three." Rayne looked at Stiles. "It won't be a proper pack, but we can help out each other when we need to."

Scott seemed to consider the proposition.

"Seems good to me. Protection is good. Always excellent." Stiles said, and slowly, Scott nodded. Rayne felt a rush of relief, and she grinned.

"Great. One more question." They looked at her expectantly.

"Who was that Alpha last night?"