The study was warm, lit by the gentle glow of the desk lamp and the faint, pulsing energy radiating from the opened Ashworth Grimoire. Eleanor sat opposite Nikolai, her face etched with concentration as she guided him through exercises that felt less like sensing and more like… pushing.
"Feel the energy of the air, Nikolai," she instructed, her voice low and steady. "Not just its presence, but its potential movement. Now, gather it. Draw it towards you, into your core."
Nikolai closed his eyes, focusing. He felt the familiar hum within, amplified tonight. He reached out with his senses, feeling the subtle currents of the air in the room. He imagined gathering it, pulling it in, like invisible threads winding around him. He felt a pressure build in his chest, in his hands, a subtle swirling sensation. It was draining, like holding his breath for too long.
"Now," Eleanor said. "Focus that gathered energy. Give it direction. Intent. Push it outwards, gently. Make the air... ripple."
He focused his will, pushing the gathered energy away from him. He imagined the air in front of him shimmering, distorting. He felt a resistance, like pushing against thick liquid. He strained, concentrating, feeling the pressure in his head return, a sharp, unpleasant ache.
He opened his eyes. The air in front of him looked normal. He felt exhausted, sweat beading on his forehead.
Eleanor sighed softly. "It requires focus, Nikolai. Precision. Not just raw power. It's like using a scalpel, not a sledgehammer."
She stood up, walking to a small, withered potted plant in the corner. "Try this. Sense the life energy within it. It's weak. Now, draw on the general energy around us, the earth's hum, and carefully, delicately, push that energy into the plant. Nurture it."
He knelt before the plant, placing his hands near the soil but not touching it. He closed his eyes, sensing the plant's faint, struggling life force. He reached out, drawing on the deeper, steady hum of the earth he felt through the floorboards, combining it with the energy he was now learning to gather in his core. He guided it, a gentle stream of warmth, towards the plant.
He felt the plant's energy respond, a tiny, grateful flicker. He focused harder, pouring intent into the transfer. He felt the leaves stiffen almost imperceptibly, a faint green returning to the edges. The soil seemed to darken slightly with moisture drawn from the air. It was subtle, but undeniable.
He opened his eyes, letting the energy flow cease. The plant looked slightly healthier than before. He felt less drained this time, but still tired.
"Better," Eleanor said, a hint of approval in her voice. "Controlled intent. Nurturing, not overwhelming. This is active magic, Nikolai. Not just sensing the world, but interacting with it. Influencing it."
'Influencing it,' he repeated internally, a cold thrill running through him. 'Not just plants. People. Events. The Kanima. Peter.'
The training continued, pushing his limits. Shielding against imaginary attacks, subtly sensing and influencing small objects around the room, learning to feel the different textures of energy described in the Grimoire – the slick, cold quality of unnatural energy, the sharp, predatory feel of a dominant will, the chaotic hum of unchecked transformation.
He could feel himself changing. His senses were sharper, yes, but the hum inside him was growing stronger, more constant. He felt more present in the energetic landscape of Beacon Hills. And Eleanor's warnings about becoming more visible resonated. He could feel the pull of powerful energies – Peter's, and the unsettling Kanima tremor – reacting to his own heightened presence, like distant compass needles twitching.
"You're making rapid progress, darling," Eleanor said later, as they closed the Grimoire for the night. "But you are pushing yourself hard. Remember, this acceleration increases the risk. Your energetic signature is becoming more noticeable."
"I know," Nikolai said, feeling the weariness but also a restless energy. "But that tremor, Mum. It's still there. I felt it spike today. And Peter... he's still watching. I don't want to be a target. I want to be able to act."
He didn't elaborate on his meta-knowledge, but Eleanor didn't need him to. She felt the danger of the Kanima's emergence, the threat of Peter. His knowledge, combined with his potent, if raw, abilities, was driving him.
He felt a sharp, sudden spike of fear and chaos from Scott's energy signature, followed by a rapid, frantic pulse. It felt like a sudden physical threat.
'What was that?!'
He focused his sensing, pushing past the house wards, across town, towards Scott. Scott's energy was spiking with terror, confusion, and a wild, defensive surge of wolf power. And layered over it, faint now, but undeniably present, was the cold, slithering energy of the Kanima.
'The Kanima attacked Scott?' His heart hammered.
He didn't hesitate. He snatched his phone. Dialed Scott.
It rang twice before Scott answered, his voice breathless, panicked. "Nikolai! Oh my god, something just happened! At the vet! I was... I saw something... it was... shiny. And fast. And I felt that weird cold thing you talked about! It tried to... to do something... my hands felt weird... and then I got scared and ran!"
'Paralysis. The Kanima's venom. And Scott's wolf instincts reacted defensively,' Nikolai processed instantly. The Kanima wasn't just a tremor; it was active. And targeting Scott. This wasn't just a distant threat anymore. It was immediate.
The desire to intervene wasn't just a strategic consideration now; it was an urgent, burning need. Scott was vulnerable, being hunted by two separate, lethal supernatural forces he didn't understand. And one of them, the Kanima, had just made its move against him.
"Scott, where are you now?" Nikolai asked, his voice firm, cutting through Scott's panic.
"Running," Scott gasped. "Just... running away from the clinic. I don't know where to go!"
"Go home," Nikolai instructed. "Lock your doors. Don't let anyone in. I'll try to... to figure out what's happening. Stay safe."
He hung up, his mind racing. The Kanima had attacked Scott. At the animal clinic. With Dr. Deaton there. Deaton, the Druid Emissary. Had Deaton seen it? Known what it was?
He turned to Eleanor, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fear and furious resolve. "The tremor, Mum. It attacked Scott. At the animal clinic. He felt the cold energy. He was scared, panicked. I think it tried to use its venom on him."
Eleanor's face was grave. "The animal clinic... and Scott was there alone?"
"He ran," Nikolai said. "He's heading home. But we can't just... wait. It's active. It's targeting him. And Peter's still out there. We have to do something." His warlock's ambition and his knowledge of the danger coalesced into a single, powerful drive. This wasn't just about building a pack anymore; it was about protecting the crucial first piece, and eliminating a threat before it unravelled his plans or killed Scott. This wasn't pure selflessness, but the calculated protection of a valuable asset under direct attack.
"What do you propose, Nikolai?" Eleanor asked, her voice serious. She saw the burning need in his eyes, the shift from theoretical planning to urgent action.
"We need to know what it is, definitively," Nikolai said, his mind working furiously, drawing on both his sensing and his meta-knowledge. "If it's the Kanima, why Scott? And who is the Master? And... can we trap it? Can we... counter it?"
He looked at the Grimoire. "Is there anything in there, Mum? About trapping a Kanima? About breaking the Master bond? Something... active?"
Eleanor looked at the ancient book, then back at her son, at the power stirring within him, amplified by the night's training and the urgency of the threat. She knew the risks. Stepping out of the shadows, revealing their hand, engaging with these forces directly. But she also saw the potential in Nikolai, the unique combination of his power and his... unusual awareness. And she felt the growing danger to the boy he had chosen to guide.
"There are passages," she said slowly, walking back to the desk and opening the Grimoire again. "About binding energies. About disrupting connections. It is advanced magic, Nikolai. Risky. And it often requires a focal point... something tied to the creature or the Master."
'A focal point,' Nikolai thought. 'Jackson. Or the Master himself. How do I get something tied to Jackson without exposing myself? Or find the Master?'
"We can't wait for them to come for Scott again," Nikolai stated, determination hardening his voice. "We need to be proactive. I can sense the tremor, I can try to track it. Maybe... maybe we can find the Master. Or find a way to draw the Kanima out, on our terms."
Eleanor nodded, her resolve mirroring his. The time for passive observation was over. The events of the night had forced their hand.
"Alright, Nikolai," she said, her voice steady. "Accelerated training continues. But now... the focus shifts. From simply understanding the energies to actively countering the threats they represent. We will consult the Grimoire. We will strategize. And we will prepare. Beacon Hills is no longer merely calling to us. It is demanding our involvement."
Nikolai felt the weight of her words, the gravity of the decision. He wasn't just a fanboy playing in a fictional world anymore. He was a Warlock, committing to a dangerous path, stepping into the line of fire. His ambition to build a powerful pack was now intertwined with the immediate need to protect the key piece of that pack, and to confront the threats that stood in their way. This wasn't just about power; it was about survival, control, and shaping the coming storm to his own design.
'The game is no longer theoretical,' he thought, looking at the Grimoire, at his mother's determined face. 'Time to start playing for real.'