I look at the jar of… dirt… on the table. I look at Stiles, who's looking at me just as confusied as I am. I look at Derek, who put the jar in front of me and is staring back expectantly. I look at ther jar, then at Stiles again, and then finally back at Derek.
"I've always wanted a jar of dirt. Thanks, dude." I say this without an ounce of the absolute ocean of sarcasm we all know I'm feeling. I have no idea what the hell is happening here.
"Don't call me dude." Derek says rolling his eyes so hard they could have popped out, clearly done with us already. "It's mountain ash."
"Oooh, I had wanted to get my hands on that." I pop the lid off, and low and behold, it's ash, but actually kinda sandy, too. Soft. And I can feel a slight hint of magic.
"Wait, what is it?" Scott asks, cute puppy head tilt and everything. It's not like anyone is mad at him for the last full moon, it wasn't his fault, but it definitely gave me an insecurity I didn't know I had. His apogees have been near endless, and he's been taking every opportunity to make it up to us, and even though he doesn't have to, the effort means a lot. OPPORTUNITY. Oh, this is good.
"I'll show you," I say, cutting off Derek before he can say anything. I tug on his bond, telling him silently to play along. I'd read about the stuff, and even asked a few questions of our local hoodoo priestess. Some plotting is required. "I'll demonstrate."
Sensing Derek's sharp spike of "oh, fuck no," when I glanced his way, I decide Scott will be our test subject, flicking my hand over the top of the open jar, a line of ash rises out and into the air. I silently scream with glee, cuz I'm doing magic, fuck yeah, and do my best to keep it all in. My skin flickers, but I do my best to suppress it. It's better to be able to practice discretion when possible. I flick my hand towards Scotty, and the ash follows forming a circle around him. All things considered, the amount I pulled from the jar shouldn't have been enough, but, you know, magic.
"Whoa," comes the awed whisper from both boys. I could tell Derek was a bit surprised as well, but I knew what I was doing. Mountain ash functions on belief. My ability, the foreshadowing, tells me I can manipulate the ash to form shapes and trap supernaturals. Therefore, there isn't any doubt in my mind that I can do it. It only requires the barest spark of energy to use. It doesn't even really require magic, persay. It depends ion what you consider magic, I suppose.
"Now, walk over it Scott." Scott tries, and faceplants into the invisible barrier. I snicker. "It's a special substance that has the ability to guard against supernats. It can form barriers and stuff."
"Holy shit, we could trap the alpha," Stiles shrieks, flailing gleefully. Perfect opening! Commence the scheme!
"You can do it. Use the ash."
"ME!" Stiles points wildly at himself.
"Yup," I start pulling back the ash around Scott, forming it into random shapes: rose, heart, knife, dick, moon, square. "You'll even get it in the first try if I help you."
Scott and Derek are rather amused, but Stiles is already fixated on the prospect of doing magic. "SHOW ME, WOMAN!"
Laughing, I tug him into sitting on the floor in front of the jar on the table. Then, I kneel behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and resting head on his. "Close your eyes, and no matter what, don't open them until I tell you. Scott, Derek, keep silent no matter what so you don't break his concentration. Now, Sriles, what is the core?"
Like responding to a teacher, Stiles explains dutifully, barely refraining from wiggling excitedly. "The core is the center, or origin of power in supernats. It's where the "spark" lies, or the magic that gives them their extraness, so to speak. It's what some believe the soul is, or resides. Our packbonds seem to radiate from it, which is generally one of the only ways humans can pinpoint it exactly." He taps the point above his core, in the center of his lower chest.
"Good. Now focus here," I tell him resting my palm over the area. "Your gonna get it one try. It won't even be hard for you. Feel it. It comes up, and through, and all the way to your arms."
As I talk slowly, calmly, I drag my hands to mirror my words, until they thread themselves through the back of Stiles's own hands raided near the jar. Then, I lie. "Don't open your eyes, yet. Keep your focus, but the ash is starting to shift."
I can feel both the confused shock and incredibly from our wolfies, because they can see damn well that ther ash isn't doing shit andcan probably hear the lie in my heartbeat, but they keep quiet. "Your doing good, Stiles. What is the ash forming?"
Stiles waves his hand, and suddenly the ash shifts, forming…a dick. Whoops, guess that didn't go unnoticed. My bad. I start laughing telling him to open his eyes. He does and cheers at his outrageous use of reverse fairy dust.
"Keep your eyes open, but form something else." He immediately makes a sand castle, and I can't hold back my victorious cackles at this point, leaning on Stiles to stay upright.
"Wait, what the hell just happened?" Derek states, befuzzled.
"I lied," I say cheerfully, ignoring Stiles flailing and the elbow he accidentally jabs me with, "Mountain ash works on the power of belief. So, I told Stiles he would 100% be able to do it on the first try. All that feel the energy shit? Could be complete bullshit, I have no idea. The important part was that I told him he was starting to do it, so he believed he was. Then when he gave it purpose, it worked. Now, that he knows he can do it, and what it feels like it, it doesn't matter that he knows the scheme I pulled."
I shrug unapologetically, but Stiles just laughs and tackles me gleefully, always the one to love a good plot coming to fruition. I give him a hug back, basking in having significantly reduced his trading time and frustration, and the fact that this only works because of his never ending trust in me.
I tuck my face into his shoulder, suddenly feeling a bit emotional over it. Even with all the lying we do, sometimes to each other, that trust never wavers. I'm so grateful. Sensing my shift in mood through the packbond, Stiles playfully brushes his cheek against mine, and noses my neck, tickling me. He pushes love at me, and I can't help but laugh, because really, we're spending too much time with wolves.
"By the way, I quit lacrosse."
I stare, carefully eyeing my best friend, cocking my head at him. He answers my unspoken question, casually resting his chin on his folded hands, and those on my belly, glancing up at me through his lashes. "No, it's not because I feel forced or anything. Honestly, I joined lacrosse for Scotty. I'm not particularly good and bench sitting isn't fun, especially without him, so it's become a bit of an inconvenience more than anything. This, though? Magic, defending the pack, and helping our territory. It's so much more important and… it feels good. I like dedicating my time like this, I promise. It means something."
"Coach let him go with minimal mindfuckery. Think he could tell Stiles was over it." Scott adds.
"You're sure?" Derek asks, crouching next to us and brushing a hand though Stiles's hair. Stiles leans into it and smiles nodding, still flopped on my belly.
I cup his cheek gently, humming in understanding. He will be happier doing this anyway, and that's what's important.
"Alright Allison is here. I'm going to talk with her. Scott, I know you wanna fix things, but now isn't the time. Stay down here, no matter what." As soon as I'm done speaking, both Scott and Derek tilt their heads to the side, and then the doorbell rings. Cute puppies. Damn, I don't think I can even muster up fear for the alpha anymore.
I head upstairs and let Allison in before taking her to the kitchen. I can feel Derek the loudest, surprisingly. Worry, anger, nervousness. He isn't happy with even a baby Argent here. That's fair, but needs must.
"So, you know people are keeping secrets from you," I start bluntly, setting a tea cup out for us both, "I can't tell you everything, and frankly you wouldn't believe me either, but I'll give you a bit of info."
The next bit was shit I cleared with Derek, who surprisingly, while not happy with sharing, was grimly satisfied and willing if it meant any trouble for the Argents, especially stealing away their daughter and poisoning her against them.
"To begin with, everything goes back to your family legacy. If you find out the truth behind the myth, you'll get your answers. The other thing you need to know is that your aunt is utterly batshit insane, and responsible for killing at least 11 people in the Hale fire by trapping and burning them alive."
Allison rears back like I hit her with my bat. "What?! No, that's- there's no way! Why the hell would you think that?"
"Because I know Derek Hale, who is finally opening a case on her." I tell her calmly just as Derek storms into the kitchen grabbing something from the fridge. The glare he gave her must havre been exsuisite considering she actually flinched out of her chair and a step towards me instead.
"Don't know why your bothering. She's going to be just like them, killing and hurting innocents out of some fucked up sense of superiority without any care for their lives they destroy. Argent cu-" He spits with venom.
"Deeek," I interrupt flatly, warming him without words to knock it off.
"I don't want to leave you with her." He glares, his worry, shown through anger, and turning into borderline panic. Oh shit, this is really stressing him out.
"Wha- I wouldn't just hurt her!" Allison is pretty distressed at this point herself.
"That's what your kind do!" He hisses. I hand him my tea cup, and wrap an arm around him, waiting calmly for him to untense. He does, and grudgingly takes a few sips, while Allison watches hunched and confused, likely not having expected the level of venom thrown at her.
"Wait, you were nice to me that night you drove me home."
"Didn't realize who you were at first." Derek states, still disdainful, but much less vicious. "And I'm not a monster like your family. We never hurt children. Didn't have time to get mad either." Oof, yeah, his chill is all gone.
I sigh, leaning on him for a second before turning to a very shaken teenage girl, "Look, just-you're not gonna believe us, which is kinda fair considering it's your family, but look around, okay? Once you're actually paying attention, you will find what you need. And for the love of all things chocolate, girl, don't believe the first things they tell you. Hearing and accepting only one side of the story is never a good idea. You're smart, Snow, use that head of yours."
"Snow?" She asks. I grin, but don't answer. She huffs a humorless laught, but leaves it. "Is that seriously everything? What about the…thing at the school?"
I hum, "That's complicated. Not everything is as it seems, but essentially, psychos gonna psycho. That's all for now." She couldn't process more anyway. The seed of doubt is planted, and that's means step one of Op. Stealing Silver is complete.
I walk her to the door, but stop and pull her into a hug. "Hey, I know it's a lot, but I still want to be your friend, okay? I'm still here for you. We can still talk, even about other shit, like were you got those bomb ass boots. Come back if you have more questions, or need anything."
She doesn't say anything but her grip is almost painfully tight, and despite having several inches on me, I'm still very obviously the one holding her. Worry, stress, denial, sadnesss, anger, relief.
She leaves and I head back to Derek. He's standing with his arms crossed, looking ready for a fight for some reason. I sigh and walk into him, pushing him up against the counter and leaning my weight on him, my face in his chest. Surprise, relief. He hesitates, but wraps his arms around my upper back and hunches into me, pressing his face to the top of my head in what seems to bee one if his favorite places to stick his nose into packmates. I hum and tip my head back to nuzzled a scruffy jaw and he squeezes me gently.
"You aren't weak." He says randomly, and I'm once again bemused by his abruptness. "I know you can handle yourself and you would know if it was gonna be dangerous. It's not because of this." He gently rubs the pad of his finger under one of my eyes and against my eyelashes. Ah, that's what this is about, then.
I pull away and move around him, about to hop up onto the counter when Derek just plucks me off the ground and sets me on it. I blink, and firmly squish the part of my brain that swooned a bit at the thought of a very fine man lifting me so easily, because that man is my packmate who doesn't particularly like being swooned at.
I tug him close and wrap my arms around his shoulders and neck and he presses in between my thighs, arms caging me. He huffs and rests his forehead into mine, and I scratch gently over his head. Cute Softywolf.
"I know you don't think I'm weak. We're pack. You want to protect me. Thank you, Derek, really." I give a kiss on the forehead and he ducks his head into my neck and hair, letting out a happy rumble that is definitely not human. I rub his back and hair, thoroughly pleased with his progress. Far more open these days. Far more willing to speak and show how he feels to us, physically and mentally. More willing to touch us, and take comfort when he needs it, and offer it in return. I'm so relieved.
Scott and Stiles appear in the door and I hold an arm out to them. They join the cuddle session without any hesitation and I tuck all of them as close as possible, pressing kisses where ever I can.
"Is she gonna be ok? Are we?" Scott asks softly, against my shoulder.
"Everything is going well as far as I can tell. Don't worry." I bump my head against his.
Derek reaches out and pulls Scott into his side, making a louder Wolfe rumble that's probably supposed to be soothing, but would be terrifying to anyone who wasn't pack.
"We're gonna be fine. No, actually I think our pack is gonna fucking thrive." Stiles says, and I might be the only one to catch a sharp undercurrent of threat in his voice that makes me smirk. Stiles was the ride or fucking die, help you commit murder and hide the body, and burn the world down for you type of person when it comes to those who he loves. He doesn't particularly look it, but he's frighteningly intelligent, and as goofy as he seems, I have no doubt how much of threat he could be. Our pack will thrive because we are gonna steam roll everything in our way. Stiles, and I, at least, will make sure of it, nevermind the rest of the pack being more then willing to do the same. I almost pity the fucking fool.
"Alright." Stiles says pulling back, "Do we know anything about this alpha other then it apparently draws spirals for revenge, meaning it knows at least a bit of werewolf culture, that he is smart enough to manipulate bonds, and that it killed Laura?" Oh, looks like he's gearing up to eliminate our first threat. Guess it's time to go on the offensive.
"Before Laura…" Derek pauses, and we all huddle closer to him, trying to give as much comfort as possible, physically and through the bonds, "She found 2 things. One was a drawing and the other was a guy. Hold on, I have it written in my wallet."
After some scrambling about, he pulls it out and hands it to Stiles. There is a pause before Stiles shrieks, "OUR CHEMISTRY TEACHER?!"
I snatch the paper, and squint at the…squiggle? Giving up, I grab a pen and make Scott trace it for me. Honestly, it's still ugly as fuck, and barely discernible, but it seems to be some kind of creature.
"Look, the chances of that drawing being traced is low-" Derek promptly interrupts me.
"I just saw Allison wearing it."
"Oh. It's a hunter thing then." I states.
"We need that necklace. How are we-"
"No, we don't." I say flattly. "Dudes, it's a symbol on a neckless the child of a prominent hunter family is wearing, one that looks like creture. Pretty obvious what it refers to. There is no telling how many items it's stamped on, chasing it would be inefficient as hell, and would draw unnecessary attention."
"So what do we do?" Scott asks, sounding terribly discouraged by all this. Poor puppy's been going through it. I pat his fluffy head, trying to think of something.
"The messages!" Stiles perks up, violently. It's only wolfy instincts that keeps Derek from taking Stiles skull to his jaw. "Hey, Derek… How do you feel about being objectified?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Stiles is a fucking menace. I love him, and he's a genius, but also a scourge on society.
"You're a terrible person."
"It keeps me up at night." Stiles agrees shamelessly. Oho, is that lust I feel from you Stiles? Can't blame you, Derek is unfairly gorgeous. Gonna have to scope out how he feels about that bisexual awakening, though. Or if he's even noticed.
Derek is rummaging in Stiles dresser, in all his shirtless glory, while Stiles, Danny, and I do our best not to ogle. Thankfully, this doesn't seem to be triggering for him. He's more exasperated, amused, and mildly irritated. Hmm, I suppose something's must be done for the sake of the pack.
Poor Danny has no defense against werewolf sex appeal and starts tracking the text messages for us. I feel a sudden spark of mischief and decide Derek doesn't need to suffer alone. Besides, there is something I wanna know.
Taking the cup of juice I was drinking, I "accidentally" drop it on Stiles as I walk past. He yelps and flails, falling on the ground. "Layla!"
"Sorry, dude. You know, blimd girls be clumsy." That's a big fat lie, and we both know it. I'm probably the least clumsy person in the pack outside the wolves because of how carefully I have to walk to compensate for the fact that can't see shit. Hell, I still might be less clumsy than Scott. Danny doesn't know that, though, but then again, I'm not sure he buys my innocent face. Stiles sends me curiosity and annoyance through the bond as he sidles up to Derek and strips to find his own shirt, and I have to hold back my laugh at poor Danny who is very much attracted to both guys and humiliated by it.
See, Stiles wears baggy clothes. I've managed to diversify his closet a bit from plaid throughout the years, but man likes what he likes. It's easy to mistake him for scrawny like that, but inaccurate nonetheless. Stiles has lean muscle and broad shoulders, and fantastic forearms. The boy plays lacrosse and, more recently, started training with the wolves on top of the basic self defense he knew from the sheriff. He isn't exactly as cut as the wolves with their 0% body fat bullshit, but he's got like, baby abs or something. Danny wasn't ready, mwahahaha! And, ooh, Derek seems to appreciate the view as well. Ohmygod, Ima keep an eye on that.
I decide to end this hilarious charade because poor Derek seems to be feeling a bit stressed since he can't find a shirt that fits him, and Stiles is body shy apparently, something that tells me i need to spen more time gassing my best friend up. I walk over to Derek, take the shirt he's holding out of his hands, hand it to Sriles, and pull off the one I'm wearing, and hand it to Derek.
The thing is, the pack ends up spending a lot of time at my house. Therefore, I have a policy. You leave your stuff there, I get to use it. That mostly pertains to the many oversized, comfy ass hell shirts from the boys. I just happen to be wearing a Derek classic: a black Henley. I'm gonna need to diversify his closet, too. He'd look good in… anything, but more than just black, and oh, scandalous! GREY!
I grab a shirt from the dresser and pull it on endlessly bemused and bewildered by the chaos left in my wake. Stiles is sputtering wildly, and has nearly brains himself on his own window, and Derek has only just snapped out of his shock and turned alllll the way round to face the wall, shirt halfway on. He looks like a little kid in time out cuz they refuse to put on their act like I didn't have a whole tank top on, but instead, stripped buck ass naked and started pole dancing. What the hell? I'm not a nun. Did they miss the absolute filth that is my sense of humor? Idiots, the lot of them. I'm gonna strip more often to desensitize them. Bodies are bodies, what's the big deal?
Danny starts laughing. Looks like Danny vibes the chaos. I knew I sensed a kindred spirit around here. On another note, both Derek and Stiles find me mildly attractivive, and that doesn't mean jack shit. Since the bite, I've noticed humans are generally just horny creatures, but I'll take that ego boost anyway. They're also totally exasperated with me, ha, this is funny, don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh…
I snicker uncontrollably. Derek, fully dressed at this point, reaches out and pinches one of my cheeks harshly. "Ow, Der-Bear, that hurts." I whisper cheerfully. "Something's we gotta do as a pack, ya know! Let us labor with you."
Deeek face palms, but he can't hide his amusement from me. I pout, rubbing a sore cheek, before flouncing over to Danny and tossing an arm around his shoulders as he types away at the computer, being his badass hacker self.
Stiles, recovered from his fit, appears next to me, pinching me in the side in retaliation as he leans over my shoulder before reading the monitor. "That's not possible. Oh, shit. Layla."
"What's it say?"
"Melissa McCall."
"Wha-no. The hospital. Damn." Whoever the alpha is, he was able to hacke our friends phones, (ew, fucking crappy stalker was paying attention and a bit too smart for comfort), and was way too close to Mama Mel for any of us to be happy. We need to take care of this ASAP.
"The game is tonight. The rest of the… group will go watch the game while Scott plays, and makes sure he stays in check, and us three will go do pest control."
I blink, and focus on the buzz of magic that's recently got stronger, but that I've been feeling for a while, before I recoil violently away from the desk, dragging Stiles with me to Deeek, suddenly realizing where it's from.
"Danny, what are you?" I ask, checking three times in quick succession for danger.
He raises and eyebrow, and drawls, a bit amused, "I didn't expect that question from you of all people, Layla. I'm Polynesian, or Hawaiian, we've discussed this."
Derek seems to have caught on by the sudden, vicious growl that erupts from his throat and the claws I feel just barely resting against my shoulder, trying to tug me behind him. I haven't felt any danger so I shift, resting a hand on his chest, doing my best to at least stand next to him instead of behind him. I'm only barely managing against his werewolf strength by sending reassurance through the bond full tilt, and damn near plastering myself to his side so he can't shake me off.
Stiles yelps, and throws himself in front of us bodily thing to block Derek from view, and from Danny, while stammering bullshit excuses that really won't work. Danny, however, has only let out a slight wheezing noise, and bared his throat going still.
"Derek." I say, quietly but firmily, into his ear from where I'm now half perched on his back. "Derek." A rub the knuckles of my hand firmly, almost too much so, against his sternum, like kneeling bread. His near roar quiets to a constant rumble. Anger, confusion, worry, Derek.
I slide down and step up next to Stiles, but that's as far as I get before I'm nudged aside and pinned in place by Derek, who now stands between us, an arm around each waist, ready to jump in front of us and take on the threat at any moment. Softywolf is stressed, let's get on with this.
"You're Derek Hale. Shit, I didn't realize. Wait, but Stiles and Layla aren't supernaturals, I would have known, why…" I let my powers pull to the surface, silver spilling like ink onto my skin and into my hair. "Holy… Layla! You're the new Guardian?" This is followed my a string of words in some language that I don't know, but obviously contains curse words.
"I am. I wish to know who resides in my territory." It's weird, but i'm suddenly feeling a little detached. Sinking into my abilities like this, even my curiosity and worry seems to have become muted. The situation doesn't seem so surprising anymore. His words will determine whether he will be considered a trespasser to my territory, and trespassers shall be punished. I blink, feeling a spark of alarm. What the hell, where did that come from? The thought soon drifts away like it was never there.
Danny seems to have sensed something, because he is now less shocked and significantly more nervous, and the fear from Derek's outburst still lingers. He bows his head forward a bit more, looking at the ground, I think, and when he speaks, is significantly more formal. "Forgive me, Great Guardian. I didn't recognize you. My family and I are dependents of Mo'o, shapeshifting water spirits. We wish to give our oaths as soon as you wish to hear them. Please accept us amongfy your own."
Before I can say anything, Stiles grabs my hand and starts rambling, and the fog in my head that I didn't even notice, suddenly clears. I feel a small spark of warning, but I'm not sure what it means because it is aimed at myself. Damnit, alright, let's put a pin in it.
"-ryone in this town supernatural?" He throws up his hands, exasperated but also excited." And what's a…Mo'o? Did I get that right? What can they do?"
Danny shifts a bit, still seemingly nervous, so I give him a smile, and that seems to relax him a bit, nevermind it's fake as hell. Something's wrong with me. Derek hesitantly touches three fingers to my hand, so I open it, and he decretely grasps it in his much larger palm.
"We are kinda like water elementals, and we can manipulate a bit of water, some more then other, but somewhere along the lineage our shapeshifting was limited. We can only do this."
A thrum of magic ripples through the air, andsomething in Danny seems to pulse for a second, not unlike the process I've slowly been becoming familiar with from the wolves, but the magic feels completely different. Waves lapping at sandy shores, and a larger wave pushes the others aside, crashing sharply down. My magic sensing is getting better, much better through practice.
"Oh, damn, that's cool. Reptilian? Scales across parts of the face, and reptilian eyes. Hmm, nice teeth, they might even be better than the wolves, but no claws, just a bit of webbing-"
Stiles is already ballsdeep in his analysis, and I see a giant,all night research session in my future and it's not even because of my powers. That said, I know he's only vocalizing that detailed of a description because he knows I can't see at this distance, and really what's a few all nighters for for a friend like Stiles. Danny seems to be relieved and amused and that surprising hint of insecurity drips away. A pulse of magic causes those waves to recede from the shore. Guess he shifted back.
"We are not really front line fighters, and we are better near water sources, or underwater. We can't heal, and we aren't fast on land, but we have slightly increased strength. Again, that strength is better in water, as with the overall transformation."
Feeling Stiles gear up for a rant, I flare my magic a bit to gather attention. "Your oaths will be welcome, but they will have to wait until we deal with the alpha you just tracked for us."
Danny's eyes go wide, and he whirls back to the computer. "Wha- Ah, hell, that's what this was about?" He groans, and the pack snickers.
"Go, get ready for the game. Our Emissary, Sri"es, will call you about the oaths. Until then, thanks for the help, let us know if you here anything, and do us all a favor, and keep an eye on Scott tonight." I tell him, cutting my light show, and herding him to the door.
"Scott?" He asks, on the door step.
"Freshly bitten were'."
"A wolf?"
"Yes…" I agree, now suddenly very curious about the existance of other were' creatures. He nods, and I'm now left in the hallway with my packmates. "Well, Stiles, we have the answer to at least one of your most burning questions."
"What?" Stiles asks, his face only about three inches from mine so I can see his big ass Bambi eyes. I set my hand on his shoulder.
"You are, in fact, attractive to gay guys." He sputters, and then whoops, dancing about while Derek forcibly smashes his head into the wall repeatedly. Yeah, ok, but that really was eating at him. Heh, guess he is aware of that bi awakening then.
XXXXXXXXXX
I feel it the second the we enter the hospital. DANGER, DANGER, DANGERDANGERDANGER- The alphas's here and I'm finally about to meet the fucker that took a chunk out of me.
This is the first time we will be meeting Peter Hale. I believe Derek's gone to visit at some point, but I stint think he would have brought us along unless he had a point to make. He still blames himself for the fire, and even with how much we've come to trust each other, he's still awful with showing vulnerability. Ha, you massive fucking hypocrite.
We enter Peter's room to find it…empty. My spicy sense goes off, and my control starts slipping. The alarms I've been hearing this entire time blare louder, and I grab my packmates, turning towards the alpha to find…a man. A man that my instincts are telling me is completely fucked up.
"You must be Stiles and Layla. It seems you've made some friends, Derek."
"Uncle Peter."
Wha- Oh, come on! Why exactly is Derek the universes favorite punching bag?
XXXXXXXXXX