Teen Wolf: Sun Hill Pack

—(Markus)—

It had been a week since I attacked Calvin during training. I was doing better now… or at least that's what I kept telling myself. Truth was, I wasn't. But I had kept my claws to myself, so I mentally gave myself a gold star on the "didn't hurt anyone" chart.

I was in my room when Michael's voice rang out from downstairs. "Markus!" he called, his tone sharp.

I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. Something about the way he said my name made me uneasy. As I stepped into the hall, I caught a scent—familiar, but unexpected. There was someone with him.

When I turned the corner and saw who it was, I froze. Standing next to Michael was Noah, looking at me like he'd seen a ghost. His eyes widened as they traveled up my frame, taking in my towering height and bulky, muscular build.

"Mark? Is that you?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

I hesitated before crossing my arms over my chest. "Nope," I muttered, turning on my heel and heading back to my room.

"Markus," Michael said, his tone laced with authority.

Damn it. I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned back around, my face neutral as I met Noah's stunned gaze.

He stepped forward, his movements cautious. "Last time I saw you, you were barely able to walk." He gestured to me. "What the hell happened?"

Michael stayed silent, clearly leaving this conversation for me to handle.

"You already know what happened," I said flatly. "You knew I was turned into a werewolf. What else do you want me to say?"

Noah frowned. "I want to know how you ended up like this." He motioned at me again, his frustration mounting. "You're bigger. Stronger. What's going on with you, Mark?"

"It's complicated," I muttered, looking away.

"Don't give me that crap," he snapped, his voice rising. "Living some new life without me?"

His words struck a nerve. "I didn't exactly have a choice," I growled, my voice sharper than I intended.

"You always have a choice," he shot back, his face flushed with anger. "But you didn't choose me. You barely call me, and when I send a text message, I get one-word answers, Mark! Do you know how much that hurt?"

I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my temper in check. "I'm not the same, Noah. I'm dangerous now. You think I wanted this? I didn't ask for any of it!"

"You think I care about that?" he shouted, tears brimming in his eyes. "You're my brother! Do you know how hard it's been, wondering if you just didn't want me anymore?"

"Noah," Michael said, stepping forward, but Noah ignored him.

"No," Noah continued, his voice shaking. "I waited for you, Mark. I waited because I thought you'd fight to come back. But you didn't."

I felt the heat rising under my skin, my muscles tensing as his words cut deeper and deeper. "Stop it," I growled.

"No," he said, his voice firm. "I'm done pretending this is okay. You left me! And now you're standing there like you're someone else. Like I don't even know you anymore!"

That was it. The anger I'd been suppressing surged forward, and before I could stop myself, I shifted. My body contorted as claws replaced my fingers, and a guttural snarl erupted from my throat.

Noah froze but didn't back away. "Markus?"

I didn't respond. The anger had taken over. Before I realized what I was doing, I lunged, pinning him to the ground. My clawed hand pressed into his shoulders as I bared my teeth, the primal instinct to dominate flooding my senses.

"Markus, stop!" Michael shouted, but Noah's voice broke through the haze.

"Mark, please!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Don't do this!"

His words hit me like a thunderclap. The red haze began to clear, and I looked down at him, pinned beneath me. His face was streaked with tears, but his eyes….

I shifted back, stumbling away as horror washed over me. "Noah… I'm so sorry."

Noah sat up, rubbing his shoulder but still staring at me. "You think I'm afraid of you?" His voice trembled. "I'm not. But I am scared of losing you."

I froze, his words sinking in.

"You're all I have," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Mom and Dad didn't want us. They signed me over to Michael like I was some burden they didn't want to deal with. After you left the started to ingore me and finally they asked Micheal to take me too. And now I'm scared you're going to do the same thing."

"Noah, I would never—"

"How do I know that?" he demanded. "You're so caught up in whatever this is, you won't even talk to me. You're my brother, Mark. You're supposed to fight for me."

I didn't have a response. Guilt clawed at me as I realized how much I'd failed him.

"You're all I've got," he said, his voice a whisper now. "Please, don't leave me too."

I closed the space between us and pulled him into a hug, my arms wrapping tightly around him. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice raw. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

I felt like I wasn't completely lost. Noah still believed in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself. And maybe that was enough to keep fighting—for him, if not for me.

As Noah and I stayed locked in the hug, something warm stirred in my chest—a mix of guilt, relief, and a faint glimmer of hope. I hadn't completely lost him.

Then, I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat dramatically behind us.

"Alright, are we having a moment here without me?" Calvin's voice cut through the air.

I glanced over Noah's shoulder to see Calvin leaning casually against the doorway, a grin plastered across his face.

"Because if we are," he continued, stepping into the room, "I'm gonna need to be a part of it. Group hugs are my specialty."

Before I could respond, Calvin swooped in, wrapping his arms around both of us and squeezing tight. "There we go," he said, his voice teasing but oddly sincere. "Now we're all brothers. One big, happy, dysfunctional pack."

Noah let out a surprised laugh, muffled against my chest. "You're ridiculous, Calvin."

"That's why you love me," Calvin shot back.

I rolled my eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. "You're not even related to us."

"Oh, but you're wrong about that," Calvin said with mock seriousness, pulling back just enough to waggle his eyebrows. "I mean, technically, I am. Thanks to your parents bailing, Michael's my dad. The first born of course, we've established this Markus. So, like it or not, you're stuck with me, brother."

I groaned, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here I am. Part of the family." Calvin grinned and gave another exaggerated squeeze.

Unable to resist, I playfully jabbed him in the stomach with my elbow. "Alright, enough of your nonsense before I toss you out the window."

Calvin yelped and stumbled back, clutching his stomach with an overly dramatic gasp. "Betrayal! My own flesh and blood—uh, well, sort of—trying to murder me!"

Noah burst out laughing, the sound warm and genuine, and I couldn't help but chuckle too.

Michael, who had been silently observing from the doorway, finally spoke up. "As heartwarming as this is, can we make it through one day without someone threatening bodily harm?"

Calvin pointed at me. "Tell him that."

Michael raised an eyebrow at me, and I held up my hands in mock surrender. "I'm innocent. It wasn't a threat. I'm willing to commit to the promise."

Noah wiped at his eyes, still grinning. "You guys are ridiculous."

"Ridiculously amazing," Calvin corrected, throwing an arm around Noah's shoulders. "And you're stuck with us now, little bro. Get used to it."

Noah glanced at me, his smile softening. "I think I can live with that."

The summer passed faster than I expected. It was messy, chaotic, and at times overwhelming, but it was also the first time in a long while that I felt like things might actually be okay.

Noah settled into life at Michael's place pretty quickly. Turns out, he had a knack for bringing people together. Whether it was dragging me out of my brooding to watch some terrible movie or getting Calvin to help him prank Michael, Noah found ways to keep the house lively.

I wasn't perfect—far from it. My temper still flared, but I was learning to catch it before it spiraled out of control. Michael had me running drills, sparring with Calvin, and meditating like my life depended on it. And honestly? It helped.

I'd never been the type to sit still and reflect, but when I started paying attention to my triggers, it became easier to manage the rage. Michael called it "control through awareness," but Calvin just said it was about "not being a ticking time bomb."

Noah had his own way of helping. Anytime he saw me starting to lose my cool, he'd crack some stupid joke or pull a face until I couldn't help but laugh. It was annoying—but effective.

By the time July rolled around, we'd settled into a routine. Training in the mornings, lazy afternoons at the lake, and nights spent around the fire pit. Noah liked to tell stories—some real, some completely made up—and Calvin always made them more dramatic with his ridiculous sound effects.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Noah turned to me with a grin. "You know, you're not so scary anymore."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Not so scary? That's the thanks I get for not ripping anyone's head off this week?"

He laughed, leaning back against a log. "You're still scary, but like… the good kind. Like a big, protective werewolf brother. A guard dog with claws."

Calvin snorted. "Careful, he might take offense to being compared to a dog."

"Watch it," I said, smirking as I threw a stick at Calvin. Mouthing the word fetch.

Noah smiled, his expression softening. "Seriously, though. You're doing better, Mark. I can see it."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded.

Michael, who had been sitting quietly by the fire, finally spoke. "You're all making progress. It's good to see."

Calvin grinned. "Progress? Dude, I'm already perfect. The rest of you are just catching up."

I rolled my eyes. "Perfectly annoying, maybe."

Laughter echoed into the night, and for the first time in a long time, I felt… calm. I wasn't fixed, but I was better. And with Noah and the others by my side, I was starting to believe I could keep moving forward.

This summer wasn't just about getting a handle on my anger. It was about finding my pack—my family. And as I looked around at the people who had stuck by me, I realized I'd found exactly that.

Michael stood in front of us, arms crossed, a determined look on his face. The way he cleared his throat already set me on edge. He only did that when he was about to drop some big news.

"I've made a decision," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "With the school year starting soon, I think it would be best if the three of you attended Beacon Hills High School in the town over."

Noah, sitting cross-legged on the couch, frowned. "Wait, what? Why? What's wrong with the school here?"

Michael sighed, glancing between us. "The school here is too close to home. Too many people know who you are—especially you, Markus. You've changed a lot in the past year, and people are bound to start asking questions. Questions we can't answer without drawing attention."

I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair. "So, what? We just pack up and pretend like none of that happened?"

"It's not about pretending," Michael said firmly. "It's about giving you a chance to start over somewhere new. Beacon Hills is far enough away that no one will know your history. You won't have people constantly asking why you look like a completely different person or why you've been… distant."

I gritted my teeth but stayed quiet. He wasn't wrong. The thought of running into old classmates who'd remember the scrawny, awkward version of me—before the bite—made my stomach churn.

Calvin, lounging in the corner, raised a hand. "Uh, question. Why am I getting dragged into this? I don't need a fresh start."

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. "You're going because you're part of this family. Markus and Noah will need support, and that's your job as much as it's mine."

"Support," Calvin muttered, rolling his eyes. "Right. Babysitter duty."

Noah still looked uncertain. "But what about me? I'm not… like Markus." He hesitated, his eyes flickering toward me. "What if I don't fit in there?"

"You'll be fine," Michael said, his tone softening slightly. "Beacon Hills High has a more… diverse community than the schools here. I mean the last I heard was the local pack being practically wiped out. It's a place where people with different stories can find a place to belong."

Noah blinked, confused. "What does that mean?"

"It means there are people there who've dealt with things you wouldn't believe," Michael said carefully. "And it's safer for all of you to be in a place where those differences won't stand out."

"Wait," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Are you saying there are more people like me there?"

Michael didn't answer right away, which was answer enough.

"Oh, great," I muttered. "Just what I need—a school full of werewolves."

"It's not just about you, Markus," Michael said, his voice sharpening. "It's about all of you having a chance to move forward. To be part of something bigger."

I stared at him, the weight of his words settling over me. A new school in a new town. A place where no one would know who I was—or what I'd been through.

Noah shifted uncomfortably. "When do we start?"

"Orientation is in a week," Michael said. "I'll help you get everything ready."

Calvin groaned dramatically. "A whole new school. Guess I better brush up on my charming first impressions."

"Try not to scare anyone off," I muttered.

Michael gave us a pointed look. "This isn't just about blending in. It's about taking control of your lives and your future. Don't waste this opportunity."

Calvin was already cracking jokes, and Noah looked like he was still processing the news.

A fresh start. I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted, but maybe it was what I needed. And maybe—just maybe—it would be enough to keep the questions at bay and give us a chance to figure out what came next.

Michael lingered in the doorway, his expression softening as he glanced back at us. "One more thing," he said, his voice less authoritative this time. "Before you start at Beacon Hills, I wanted to offer you both something."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. "What now?"

He stepped further into the room, his tone careful and deliberate. "Noah, Markus… I know the two of you have been through a lot. Losing your parents' support, everything that's happened since then… it hasn't been easy. But I want you both to know that you're not alone. You're part of this family now."

Noah tilted his head, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

Michael took a deep breath. "I'm offering you both the chance to take my last name—Ambrose."

The room went still. I blinked, caught off guard, while Noah stared at him in stunned silence.

Michael continued, his gaze steady. "I know it's a big decision. But if it helps you feel like you have a fresh start—like you have a real place to belong—it's yours. No pressure. Just think about it."

Noah looked down at his hands, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. "You'd really want us to?" he asked quietly.

Michael bent down to Noah's level, meeting his eyes. "You're already part of this family, Noah. The name is just a formality. But if it helps you feel like you're not carrying the weight of what your parents did—or didn't do—then I'd be honored."

I shifted uncomfortably, my mind racing. Ambrose. It felt… strange, like I'd be giving up a part of myself. But at the same time, the idea of letting go of the name tied to so much pain and rejection was tempting.

Calvin grinned, breaking the tension. "See? Told you we're all brothers now. Officially, even." He threw an arm around Noah's shoulders. "Come on, Ambrose has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Noah let out a shaky laugh, still looking overwhelmed. "I don't know…"

Michael stood up, his voice steady. "You don't have to decide right now. Take your time. But just know the offer's there."

I glanced at Noah, who was still processing the idea. Maybe he needed this more than I did—a new name, a new start. For me, it wasn't about the name. It was about the people who'd stood by me when I'd been at my lowest.

"Thanks," I muttered, my voice gruff. "We'll think about it."

Michael nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "That's all I ask."

As he walked out of the room, Calvin leaned back on the couch with a smirk. "Ambrose brothers. I like the sound of that."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I said, playfully swatting his arm.

Noah smiled faintly, looking at me. "What do you think, Mark? Could you see yourself as Markus Ambrose?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. It's a big change."

"Yeah," Noah said softly. "But maybe it's the kind of change we need."

For the first time in a long time, I felt like the future wasn't as uncertain as it used to be. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe this was our chance to start over—not just as brothers, but as something more. Something stronger.

Noah and I sat in silence after Michael left, the weight of his offer hanging heavy in the air. I glanced at my little brother, his fingers nervously tapping against his knee as he stared at the floor.

"Mark?" Noah said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think?" He looked up at me, his eyes uncertain but hopeful. "About taking Michael's last name?"

I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest. "It's a lot to think about. I mean… it's not just a name. It's who we've been, you know? But at the same time…" I trailed off, struggling to put the feelings into words.

Noah nodded slowly. "It's not like Mom and Dad cared. They gave up on us, Mark. Maybe this is our chance to let go of all that and… belong somewhere else. Somewhere better."

I looked at him for a long moment. He was right. Our parents had practically abandoned us, and holding onto their name didn't mean anything anymore. But Michael? Calvin? They'd stepped up for us. They didn't have to, but they did.

"You really want to do this?" I asked.

Noah nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "Yeah. I think I do."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Then let's do it."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah, really. If it means a fresh start for us—if it means we're officially part of this family—I'm in."

Noah's face lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "Ambrose brothers. I like the sound of that."

At that moment, Calvin burst back into the room, clearly eavesdropping. "You guys just made my day!" he exclaimed, pulling us both into a bear hug.

"Calvin, get off," I grumbled, shoving him playfully.

"No way, man! This is a historic moment. You're officially my brothers now!"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes, but I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me.

Michael appeared in the doorway, his face softening when he saw us. "So, have you made a decision?"

Noah turned to him, smiling. "Yeah. We want to take your last name."

Michael's expression shifted, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his face. He nodded, his voice warm. "Welcome to the family, Noah Ambrose. Markus Ambrose.".