The psychic howl that had torn apart the full moon's peace left a chronic residue of fear in the Redwood forest. It was like a violation, a penetration of sheer agony that had cut through their physical protections, attacking their supernatural faculties directly. Coralia, although recovering, was visibly shaken, her customary composure shattered by the naked force of the Darach's psychic attack. Scott, white-faced and shaking, grasped his head, the memory of the scream still shuddering in his brain. Even Damien, restored to human form, felt a sickening resonance, a cold ball of dread coiling in his stomach.
"Ghastly. ghastly." Scott panted, his throat raw. "What was it?
Coralia's expression was stern. "The Darach. She wallows in the agony of her sacrifices. That was the psychic imprint of their last moments, a tide of suffering released into the very fabric of the supernatural world attached to Beacon Hills." Her eyes were far away, as if she attempted to interpret the resonant shadows. "She has claimed another. A healer, I think. I sensed the resonance of their life force snuffed out.
The news weighed heavily over their heads, a harsh reminder of how far they were and could not simply step in. The Redwood forest sanctuary suddenly became a prison, their powerlessness an oppressive burden.
Damien's anger surged. The unbridled power of his Lycan side was nothing if they couldn't make it back to Beacon Hills in time to put an end to the Darach. The training, though necessary, seemed tediously slow in contrast with the urgency of the crisis mounting.
"We have to head back," Scott told him, his tone laced with aching desperation. "We can't sit around here while she. while she does this.
Coralia nodded slowly, her eyes vexed. "You are correct, Scott. We cannot stay hidden. The Darach's strength is spreading too rapidly. But we must be tactful. Charging in without thinking will only serve her purposes."
"But what can we do?" Damien said, his irritation growing. "We don't even know where she is, how to track her down."
"Stiles," Scott replied, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "He's been digging. He may have discovered something." He rummaged for his phone, his hands still shaking a bit from the psychic attack.
The weak signal in the distant forest hindered communication, but after trying a few times, Scott was able to reach a sleepless and hysterical Stiles. His voice, crackled with a combination of fear and hysterical excitement, told him about the latest revelations he had heard regarding the Nemeton.
Scott! You won't believe what I found!" Stiles's voice was shrill with adrenaline. "The Nemeton. it wasn't a site of druidic power alone. It was a beacon! A nexus point! And when it was felled all those years ago." He let the sentence hang, a grim realization in his voice. "What if the Darach is harnessing its residual energy? What if the sacrifices are reawakening it?
Stiles's hypothesis floated in the charged air, a chilling potential that echoed the old power Coralia had mentioned. A tainted nexus point, feeding from death and suffering – it was a ghastly rational explanation of the Darach's increasing power.
"Where was it?" Coralia demanded, her tone cut with urgency. "The Nemeton. Where did it sit?"
Scott recited the details Stiles had given, a telling of a particular grove in the Beacon Hills Preserve, an area which had always, somehow… felt different, even before he himself became a werewolf.
"That's it," Coralia said, her eyes widening in a moment of dawning comprehension. "The center of the druidic energy in Beacon Hills. If the Darach is tapping power from there, it would account for her growing strength."
A plan was started, a desperate move to attack the Darach at her point of power. But the trip back to Beacon Hills would be perilous. Peter Hale was still on the loose, his fascination with Damien surely roused by his transformation. And the Darach herself would probably feel their return, her net of influence encompassing the town.
We have to be ready," Coralia stated, her eyes growing cold with determination. "Damien, your training will continue, but it has to be sped up. You have to be able to master your shifts, to learn to tap into your full potential. Scott, your access to the werewolf world, your sense of other supernatural creatures – it will be important. And Sheriff Stilinski." She addressed the frazzled lawman, her face serious. You will be our eyes and ears in Beacon Hills, reporting back to us, keeping those who could be targeted next safe.
The psychic wound created by the Darach's attack was a sober reminder of the level of stakes. They were no longer fighting for Scott's survival or the equilibrium of the supernatural within Beacon Hills. They were fighting against an ancient evil threatening to engulf the entire town. The desperate risk to meet the Darach at the Nemeton was their last hope, a dangerous plunge into the center of the storm.