The house was quiet. Deathly quiet, save for the hum that was now a constant companion beneath the surface of Nikolai's awareness. He sat by his bedroom window, watching the dark shapes of the trees in the Preserve silhouette against a moonless sky. He'd tried meditating, tried focusing on the obsidian stone again, but his mind kept drifting. He knew what time it was, roughly. Knew what was happening out there.
He closed his eyes, trying to listen with more than just his ears. He focused on the hum, that subtle frequency Eleanor had told him about. It felt different tonight. Tighter. More expectant. Like an instrument being tuned just before a performance.
'They're out there now,' he thought, picturing Scott and Stiles navigating the dark woods. 'Probably arguing about flashlights or Stiles being too loud. They have no idea.'
The hum started to build. Slowly at first, a gradual increase in intensity. It felt like pressure, like the air was thickening, becoming charged. It wasn't just in his head; it felt like the entire house, the very ground beneath him, was vibrating faintly in response.
He stood up, walking towards the window again, drawn by an invisible pull towards the woods. The trees seemed darker, more imposing. The silence of the night felt… heavy.
'Focus,' he told himself. 'Sense. What is this? Is it the Nemeton? Is it… him?'
He focused harder, trying to isolate different threads in the building energy. There was the consistent, ancient hum of the land, deep and resonant. There was a newer, more chaotic energy layered on top, emanating from the direction of the Preserve. It felt primal, powerful, and utterly alien. It prickled his skin, raising the fine hairs on his arms.
And then, like a lightning strike, it happened.
A violent, instantaneous spike of pure, raw power ripped through the night. It wasn't a gradual increase; it was a sudden explosion of energy that hit him like a physical blow. It slammed into his senses, overwhelming the hum, the natural energy, everything.
He gasped, stumbling back from the window, clapping his hands over his ears instinctively, even though the feeling wasn't a sound. It was like being plunged into icy water while simultaneously being set on fire. Pain lanced behind his eyes, sharper than yesterday. His stomach twisted.
'What the—?!'
It was terrifying, exhilarating, and deeply wrong. It felt like something ancient and wild had just been violently unleashed. He saw brief, flashing mental images – not actual sights, but impressions – of sharp claws, snapping teeth, blinding speed, and overwhelming fear. And pain. So much pain.
The intense spike subsided almost as quickly as it came, leaving behind a powerful, vibrating ripple in the air, and a persistent, new energy signature pulsing within the existing hum from the direction of the Preserve. This new signature felt different – a combination of the raw power he'd just felt, but also… confused? Terrified?
He leaned against the wall, breathless and shaking. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His heart hammered against his ribs. That was it. That had to be it. The bite. He'd felt the moment of transformation, the infusion of lycanthropic energy into a human body.
'Scott,' he thought, the name flashing through his mind. 'He got bitten. It happened.'
The knowledge, gained from years of watching a TV show, was now visceral, terrifying reality. He hadn't just observed it; he had felt it. Felt the raw, untamed power that was now coursing through the veins of a kid he'd seen struggling on the lacrosse field earlier today.
A soft, urgent knock sounded on his door.
"Nikolai? Are you alright, darling?" Eleanor's voice was sharp with concern.
He pushed himself away from the wall, trying to steady his breathing. "Yeah. Yeah, Mum. Come in."
She entered quickly, her eyes wide and scanning his face. She was already dressed, not in pyjamas, but in simple clothes, looking ready for… something. Her own face was pale, her usual calm composure slightly shaken.
"You felt that?" she asked, her voice low.
He nodded, swallowing hard. "Felt it? It felt like I was hit by lightning. What was that, Mum?"
Eleanor walked over to the window, looking out at the dark woods with an intense gaze. "That was... significant. A powerful transference of energy. Violent. Primal." She turned back to him, her eyes meeting his. "It felt like a bite. A very strong bite."
'She felt it too. Of course she did. She's a powerful witch.'Relief warred with the lingering shock. He wasn't going mad.
"A bite?" he echoed, feigning confusion, though his mind raced. "From what?"
"From something ancient," she said, walking back towards him. "Something with deep roots. A creature of the night, of the woods. It's been a while since I felt anything like it."
She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You reacted strongly. That's a good sign of your connection, but also shows you're not yet used to such raw power. It takes practice to shield yourself, to filter what you sense."
"It felt… like pain," he said, trying to describe the feeling. "And speed. And… wildness."
"Yes," she agreed, her gaze distant again. "The imprint of the creature and the trauma of the event. It was the moment of change. Someone out there… they just became something else."
'Scott McCall, future True Alpha, became a werewolf,'Nikolai finished in his head. The timeline was holding. The game was still on.
"Why did it feel so… powerful?" he asked, genuinely curious about the magical perspective. "Was it just the bite itself?"
Eleanor considered this. "The bite is the catalyst, the means of transfer. But the power comes from the creature doing the biting. And where it happened. Beacon Hills is a nexus, yes, but specific locations within it are even more potent. And the Nemeton… it's a beacon, a source of ancient energy. Any significant supernatural event near it is amplified."
'So the bite was amplified by the Nemeton? Interesting. Explains why this one guy is the key to so much chaos.'
"So," Nikolai said, his mind already spinning, "there's a… werewolf? Running around out there now?"
"Likely more than one," Eleanor corrected, her voice soft but firm. "A bite like that, it had to come from an Alpha. The leader of a pack."
'Peter Hale. The Alpha.' Nikolai felt a chill. He'd sensed Peter Hale. A vengeful, unstable, mass-murdering Alpha. His mother thought she could potentially rival that power. That was impressive. And slightly terrifying.
"An Alpha?" Nikolai asked, keeping up the act. "So, there's a whole pack?"
"There could be," she confirmed. "Or it could be just the Alpha and perhaps one or two others. Beacon Hills has been dormant for a long time, but that kind of energy... it doesn't appear out of nowhere. It was either here, hidden, or drawn here. Either way, it changes things."
Eleanor walked to a small table and picked up a smooth, polished piece of dark wood – maybe oak? It felt warm and strangely alive in her hand. "This is why we came here, Nikolai. Because I knew this place was waking up. Because your abilities are tied to it. And because… this world, the supernatural world, is where we belong."
'Belong? My London flat and Netflix felt more like belonging,' a flicker of his old life's cynicism surfaced. But then he felt the persistent hum, the echo of the raw power he'd just experienced, and the strange, charged feeling of the wood in his mother's hand. Maybe she was right.
"What do we do now?" he asked, his voice regaining some of its earlier determination. The fear was still there, but it was overshadowed by the thrill of being at the epicenter of the story, and the knowledge that he wasn't helpless. He had magic. He had a powerful witch teaching him.
"Now," Eleanor said, turning back to him, her eyes filled with a mixture of resolve and something ancient, "we learn. You learn to control your abilities. You learn to sense, to shield, to defend. And we observe. We see what this Alpha, this new power, does. We see how it affects the town. And we decide our place in it."
She paused, her gaze unwavering. "Our family has a history, Nikolai. A history of surviving the supernatural world. And sometimes… a history of shaping it."
Shaping it. That word aligned perfectly with his goal. He didn't just want to survive; he wanted to build, to influence, to create the most powerful pack. And it seemed his mother's family history, and her own intentions, might just pave the way.
He looked out the window again. The woods were still dark, but they felt different now. Alive with a terrifying new energy. Somewhere out there, Scott McCall was likely reeling from a bite, about to face a reality he never imagined.
And here, in a quiet house on the edge of town, Nikolai Ashworth, transplanted fan and burgeoning warlock, was listening. Listening to the pulse of the supernatural world awakening, and planning his next move. The bite was just the beginning. His plan for a super pack needed fuel, needed direction. And the new werewolf in town, and the Alpha who bit him, were now firmly on his radar.
'Okay, Scott McCall,' he thought, the fear giving way to a cold, strategic resolve. 'Let's see what you do with this. Because whatever happens, I'm not just watching anymore.'
Chapter 4 is complete! We've covered the night of the bite from Nikolai's perspective, focusing on his sensing and reaction, brought Eleanor into it to confirm his experience and reveal more about their understanding of the supernatural world, and reinforced Nikolai's goal and strategic mindset. The first major canon event has happened, experienced through his unique lens.
Ready for Chapter 5? We can explore the immediate aftermath for Scott (from Nikolai's perspective, maybe sensing the changes), Nikolai trying to practice his sensing further, and perhaps his first direct interaction with Scott or Stiles now that the status quo has shifted.