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Sheila is just throwing away her sandwich wrapper between convention sessions when she sees a Hale for the first time. A Hale, as in, a member of the Hale Pack. The Hale Pack. Beautiful, strong, feared. It’s Erica, one of the betas. Mate of the Hale Pack’s second. She has a predatory smirk, a rope of blonde, braided hair, and a killer look in her eyes.
She sees the young man that’s with her, one that she recognizes as Isaac Lahey, a prided member of the pack. She knows of his prowess, of the way he slinks around rooms like he hasn’t a care but can rip your throat out in a breath. She sees the gleam in his eyes, like he would just love the chance to bring his claws out and rip your face to ribbons. That’s when she knows that the rumors are true. That the Hale Pack, based out of the small town of Beacon Hills, California, is truly one of the most feared packs in all of America. Maybe the world.
“Who’s that you’re staring at?” Sheila’s fellow packmate, Grant, appears out of nowhere to ask her.
She whips her head to look at him. “Shh! Those are members of the Hale Pack!”
“The Hale Pack? I thought they weren’t….”
“Oh, they’re very real. And even more terrifying in person.” Sheila looks back at Erica Reyes Boyd, a definite force to be reckoned with.
“Oh shit, it looks like she’s coming over here. Act natural.” Grant punches her, and she plasters what must look like a puppet’s smile on her face. Sheila is strongly willing her body to calm the fuck down because she’s sure she smells terrified.
The bombshell blonde is, in fact, approaching them, and she holds out a hand. “Hello, my name is Erica.” Her nails have a pristine red polish on them that looks like blood.
Sheila swallows and shakes her hand. “Sheila,” she offers. “This is Grant.”
“I know,” Erica’s smile turns even more predatory, and the gleam in her eyes is honestly scary. “You’re Alpha Jet’s Second, are you not?”
Sheila nods, her smile relaxing a little at the sound of her title. She’s a Second, talking to a beta. She can do this. “And you’re part of the Hale Pack.”
Erica’s eyes flash gold, “So you’re familiar with us as well.” Isaac, who has appeared behind her shoulder, gives them half of a curious glance before letting his eyes lazily float around the room. He doesn’t introduce himself, but it isn’t necessary, as it’s quite obvious that he’s here as Erica’s backup.
“Oh yes. I believe your reputation precedes you.”
Erica pulls her lips over her teeth, smacking her lipstick silently. “All good things, I hope?”
“Kind of terrifying things, actually!” Grant decides to pipe up, and Erica’s grin only grows. Isaac manages to look even more disinterested.
“As it should be,” he says, voice like silk, and Sheila feels an honest-to-god shiver go down her spine.
Erica reaches back and pets Isaac’s cheek without even looking at him. “Which events will you two be attending? I know my alpha is very interested in spiking up a relationship with the Knowles pack. He said his family had a mutually beneficial partnership with your pack before Jet took over and the Hale Pack took a hiatus, and would like to explore the idea of beginning that again. Maybe we could continue our conversation at your next event?”
Sheila feels like her eyes are going to boggle out of her head, and she has to remind herself to answer before her brain short-circuits. A treaty of alliance with the Hale Pack would be...incredible. Unthinkable. Her alpha would be so proud. “Grant and I are heading to Biological Weaponry, if you’d like to join us?”
Erica’s grin somehow grows even more, showing all of her teeth. “Shall we?”
…….
“And he couldn’t even breathe! It took weeks for the two to be in the same room with each other again. That’s why we don’t train near the full moon anymore. Too much animosity.”
Josh is listening to this beta speak, barely holding his tongue. They obviously have no clue what in the hell they’re talking about. Or their alpha is just completely incompetent. The beta excuses herself and leaves the table, deciding to mingle with more important or interesting packs, and Josh can barely hold in his sigh of relief.
“Gotta love these things, right?” A woman sits heavily in the seat to his right, slouching as much as (in)humanly possible. She, like him, has very defining asian features. If he had to guess, he’d say korean.
Another woman, this one with large eyes and the squarest jaw line that Josh has ever seen, sits in the seat on the left of him. “That beta didn’t even know how stupid she sounded.” She blows at a piece of dark hair that falls into her face. “You have to encourage roughhousing and exercise training around the full moon. It promotes good health, comfort, and gets out all of that extra rage.” Her eyes wander to his nametag. “Josh. Beta in the Kapp Pack, right?”
Josh nods, eyeing both women. “And you ladies are…?”
“Oh! Our manners! I’m Kira, and this is Allison,” the other woman answers. “From the Hale Pack.”
Josh can feel his fingers lose their feelings. Maybe his legs too. And his face. Or maybe that’s just all of the blood draining from it. “The Hale Pack?”
“Beacon Hills, California!” The girl who introduced herself as Kira confirms. “I’m Scott McCall’s mate.”
Josh knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “You’re a kitsune, right?”
She smiles widely. “Yes, I am!” So he was wrong. Japanese, not korean. “And Allison’s last name is Argent,” she adds, as if his heart wasn’t already on its way to an attack.
Josh turns as quickly as he can to look at the unassuming pale woman. He had heard the rumors, but...an Argent. At a werewolf convention. This is easily the scariest and most stressful conversation of his life. And maybe the most important. “Wow,” he says, because if he doesn’t he might never speak again due to his throat constricting with terror. “And to what do I owe this honor?”
“Honor?” Kira laughs, eyeing Allison over Josh. “No, more like a pleasure! A pleasure to speak with you. And while I’d like to say that this is all pleasure, we’re actually more here on business.”
“Well, this is a convention,” Josh says, laughing nervously. He really doesn’t want to be sandwiched between these two women. He’s heard that Kira can stop your pulse with one brush of her hand against yours, and that Allison has killed more people than anyone else in her pack combined (which, if you’ve heard the rumor mill about the Hale Pack, is a shitload of beings). He’s also heard of her perfect aim. He doubts she’d struggle with a three foot distance.
Allison laughs at his awkward statement. “You’re right! We’re here because our Alpha’s mate, not Kira, but our other Alpha, sent us here on official business. He’d like us to mingle, create friendships, build alliances, yadda yadda.”
“But the Kapp Pack,” Kira takes over, “is one of the packs on our list.” Josh’s heart rate must increase tenfold. “We have a list of packs that we believe would be huge assets to our chain of allies, and who we believe would benefit from an alliance with us as much as we would with them. As one of the strongest packs in Oregon, your pack would be extremely valuable in this chain. We understand that you’re your alpha’s little brother, and we hope you can take this information to your sister once we’ve finished our food.” Kira flashes him a wide smile.
“As an ally, you would obviously receive protection from any and all of the other packs in the chain. We would also require a member of each pack to be apart of a weekly conference call, and you would be invited to a yearly party where we celebrate our alliances. We would also constantly be sharing things such as people, resources, appointed territories, and information. If your pack were to have a dispute with anyone you would have the strength of the chain behind you. At this very moment, we have recruited three packs prior to this convention, including one in California and two in New York, and three in the two days since the convention began, one in Nevada and two in New Mexico. We have two Hunter families, including my family and the Calaveras in Mexico, as part of the alliance as well,” Allison informs him.
“Do you have any questions yet?” Kira asks sweetly, taking a sip of the water in front of her.
“Ummm,” Josh tries to form words, but nothing seems to want to come out.
“Of course! We’ve overwhelmed you with information. Let’s eat, shall we? Then we can talk a little more shop,” Allison winks at him, and she turns to the table just in time for the waiters to come out to serve everyone.
As Josh watches a plate of steak appear in front of him, he realizes that he has been very perfectly ganged up on by two beautiful women, told exactly what he wanted to hear, and--to be quite honest--completely played. He has to say, he’s incredibly impressed. And to be in an alliance with the Hales? He can't wait to bring this up to his sister. But maybe some steak and a little more conversation first.
…….
“I’m Lydia Martin,” a strawberry blonde haired woman reaches out. On impulse, Gary shakes her hand. “And you are Gary Allen. It’s very nice to meet you, Alpha Allen.”
Gary wants to scratch his head in slight confusion, but the woman isn’t giving him time to as he shakes her hand again without a second thought. “I was at your panel yesterday about education and the pack and I found your ideas on homeschooled group education with gradual social implementations fascinating. I think it will really help our pack when we decide to grow.”
Gary, while still a grown Alpha of 53 and a professor of education at the University of Washington, finds himself without words because of how upfront this redhead is with him.
“But I didn’t approach you to talk about your talk from yesterday. What I’m here for is talk about an alliance. Tell me, have you heard of the Hale Pack?”
Heard of the Hale Pack? This young woman must be joking. The Hale Pack is only the most talked-about pack in all of California. He even had the true alpha, Scott McCall, in one of his classes back when he did a bit of research at Berkeley a few semesters back. A remarkable pack, really. Sort of fascinating, from a socioeconomic and educational background lens. They were a pack of dirt poor and filthy rich, high school dropouts and MIT graduates, born and bitten...and they were all within a ten year age range of each other. Statistically speaking, the pack should have stopped functioning years ago, back when its reestablished founder, Derek Hale (honestly the runt of the former pack and not equipped to be an alpha), decided to bite some hormonal teenagers to build his pack. It should have failed when the True Alpha, Scott McCall, emerged. Or when Derek Hale temporarily lost his alpha powers. Things should have fallen apart when they added non-werewolf, non-human members to their pack (a kitsune? a werecoyote? a banshee? you’re just asking for a mess.).
But they didn’t. And with their survival came success, territory, and power.
So he nods.
Lydia smiles at that. “Good. That’s my pack.”
Of course. She smells like they do, like redwood and must and tootsie rolls. And if he takes another, deeper whiff, he can smell the banshee on her.
“And we’re interested in expanding. Not only expanding, but including you in our expansion.”
Gary pauses for a moment. There is no way she’s challenging him, is there?
“We’d like to create an alliance with your pack. Your influence on the canadian packs, what with being so far up there in Washington, would be an asset to our chain alliance. And we could offer you more than you could ever want. Plus, who wouldn’t consider an alliance with the Hale Pack?” Lydia’s smile is sharp, daring him to deny her claims.
Gary opens his mouth to speak, but Lydia continues on. “I believe this proposition would be very helpful to you. Currently, we mostly have packs based out of the west coast in on our alliance, but we would be interested in spanning out over the entire continent. We even have some alliances in Mexico and New York already. You have everything to gain…” She trails off, and Gary can hear the unspoken and everything to lose, too.
Suddenly, he remembers even more. He remembers the whole thing with Peter Hale, how he tried to infiltrate their pack and, at the banshee’s demand, they cut him to pieces as he had done to his niece, Laura Hale, and scattered him. Where, he doesn’t know. But he does know that Lydia Martin herself was the one who had brought him back to life after his first death, and was also the one who led the attack that caused his final death. She could easily ruin anyone’s lives in a millisecond. He doesn’t doubt she would ruin his pack’s if he ever tried to cross her. An alliance sounds like a great idea.
So he nods.
….
Janice is staring. She knows it. She’s not rude. But it’s hard not to. Standing right there in front of her are the famed leaders of the Hale Pack: Derek Stilinski-Hale, alpha and re-founder; Vernon Boyd, his Second; and Stiles Stilinski-Hale, the alpha’s mate. The trio looks powerful and effortless, standing in an open triangle that invited anyone in. They aren’t talking about anything serious, if their faces are anything to go by, and they all look relaxed. Probably because no one would ever dare to attack them. Not here.
Janice has heard many things about the Hale Pack, and she wonders how many of them are true. Had the alpha’s mate actually been possessed by a nogitsune? Are they all precise killers? Had they really made alliances with the Argents and Calaveras, and did they really defeat the rumored Alpha Pack, led by former council member Deucalion? Had Peter Hale actually risen from the dead before they ordered him killed again?
Janice has a strong feeling that most of these claims are true. Just looking at the way Derek Hale emanated power, she can feel the truths in every claim. The way that the large, puckered scar on the side of the mate’s neck tugs at his skin every time he moved his head is a statement of their battles, a reminder of their past. And maybe even a reminder of their future.
She had seen Scott McCall, the other alpha, in one of the lectures she had attended. And while he looked friendly enough, with a huge smile, crooked jawline, and puppy-like wonder about him, there was also something dangerous about the way he moved. Something predatory. She would never want to mess with the Hale Pack.
Their alpha, Derek Stilinski-Hale, is one of the last of the famed Hale bloodline along with his sister Cora. She can see it in the way he walks, the weight of his family’s legacy on his shoulders. Janice sees the sadness of their loss in his eyes, can smell ashes in his scent. She remembers hearing about the Hale fire back when she was much younger, mourning the loss of a great and powerful pack with her own close by her side. Everyone had held their own packs a little tighter that day.
Derek Hale is supposed to be strong, stronger than most alphas. He wasn’t born or bred to be one, since his older sister was supposed to become alpha, and his power comes from experience and need. Janice can see the respect in his pack’s eyes when they look at him. Derek Hale, the alpha who was never supposed to be. Derek Hale, one of the only full-shift werewolves still alive. Derek Hale, whose pack defeated the Alpha Pack. Derek Hale, who bit a bunch of teenagers and had most of them live to tell the tale. Derek Hale, who mated with a human without batting an eye.
Janice watches as Stiles throws his head back in a laugh, and her eyes trail to Derek Hale as his face softens just looking at his mate. She's heard things about the mate. Stiles Stilinski Hale. He was unique in that he wasn't a werewolf, or a hunter, or any other kind of supernatural creature. She has heard rumors of his magical prowess, his ability to make things happen just by willing them to. About his ruthlessness, and his incredible kindness. His desire to never be turned. His time as a prisoner of the famed Gerard Argent because of his loyalty to a pack that wasn’t his own at the time. She has heard of his complete power, how the entire pack is compelled to obey him as if he himself was the alpha, and how his quick wit and strong words have talked their pack out of total destruction a number of times. The Hale Pack is something to behold, and Janice knows that they must owe a lot of that to the mate.
Stiles, unlike everyone else at the convention, is dressed in normal street clothes. Not that they don’t look good on him, quite the opposite, but compared to everyone else in attendance, he is underdressed. Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t seem to deter him. He looks around the room as if he is the only one who got the memo to dress casually, and that every single other being in the room is drastically overdressed. It honestly makes Janice feel self-conscious.
She’s watching him so intently that it barely registers in her mind that his eyes are wandering near her until they make startling eye contact, his wide eyes tracking hers. She watches in her peripheral as Stiles places a single hand on Derek’s arm, silently beckoning him to follow. Then he almost floats over to where Janice is standing behind the punch bowl. She tries to think of the punch table as a barrier between her and the Hale Pack, but she knows it would only take mere milliseconds for Derek Hale’s claws to be at her throat.
They make it to her, Stiles’s eyes never leaving hers, not even once. “Hello,” Stiles says. His voice is rough, but the tone is smooth. His scar twists when he swallows. “I’m Stiles Stilinski-Hale. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he holds out a hand. Janice shakes it, refusing to back down. “And you are the mate of Alpha Liam Girario, are you not?” He asks, though he obviously already knows the answer.
“Yes I am, and the pleasure is all mine,” Janice manages to say, breaking the handshake. “My mate is currently in the ballroom, might I get him for you?”
“Oh no,” Stiles says, “it’s you I’d like to talk to.” Janice feels her eyes widen in surprise, and she tries to slow her heart. “Are you finding the convention to your liking?” He asks with the air of someone who actually owns the convention center. Well Janice doesn’t know, maybe he does.
“Yes. My pack is large, so we’ve been able to visit all of the panels and meetings we wanted to.”
Stiles smiles. “That is definitely an advantage of a larger pack. You have a lot of younger pups, too, do you not?”
Janice looks at the young man, head tilting slightly. “Why yes we do, Liam finds it very beneficial that we continue to grow.”
If anything, the answer makes the man’s smile grow larger. “And your pack participates in the fostering of orphaned weres?”
Janice feels her chest involuntarily puff up. This is her area of expertise, and she’s very proud of her accomplishments on the front of werewolves in the foster system. Her relocation rate is extremely high, and she gets no greater joy than relocating a young pup to a pack that will love and care for it. “Yes, I am the person in charge of that whole affair.”
“Wonderful. I wanted to talk with you today because the Hale Pack is looking to expand. We would like to be considered as one of the packs that you turn to for foster homes for some of those pups. We have a lot of land and are looking to bring joy and love to orphaned pup’s lives. As you can imagine, Derek feels very close to this cause.” Stiles gestures to his mate, who has been standing silently behind his left shoulder this entire time. Janice remembers the Hale fire. It had been said that you could hear the howls of grief from Derek and Laura Hale three states over. Derek’s face is a picture of calm, but Janice can hear how fast his heart is racing. Just by that, she can tell how much this means to them. Stiles’s heart, though, is the epitome of tranquil. His face is pleasant and warm, and Janice is already searching her mind for the perfect pup to be placed into their pack.
“Of course,” Stiles continues, “not only would we foster pups, but we would also offer support to your pack, including but not limited to protection, resources, and numbers. We would also like to assist in the relocation program by partnering you up with the packs in our alliance. There are plenty of werewolf couples out there looking to adopt a werewolf child, and we would like to help. Obviously, we would work under you in that regard.”
Janice looks at them, resisting the urge to let her mouth drop open. This was...incredible. A powerful pack was offering protection, resources, and a home for orphaned and abandoned were pups. This is more than she could ever have imagined. “Well, if I said anything other than yes, I would be a fool.”
Stiles’s eyes are shining with excitement. “Well, let’s enjoy the festivities, then we’ll hash out the details later tonight. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” She shakes his hand again. He bids her goodbye and she watches the three walk off. She turns away herself, ready to tell Liam all about the new alliance, but not before watching Stiles throw his arms around Derek’s neck and kiss him lovingly. Maybe the Hale Pack isn't as scary as everyone says.
Janice hears a crash behind her and turns back around. The scene before her shows an alpha werewolf flat on his ass, Derek Hale half wolfed out, a waiter with water dripping from his hair, and Stiles Stilinski leaning threateningly over the downed alpha. He's whispering something in the alpha's ear, and everyone in the room can hear: "If you touch my mate's ass again, I will castrate you." He then straightens up, offers the waiter a nearby cloth napkin and an apology, and leads his pack out of the room. The whole affair takes place in about fifteen seconds.
Janice changes her mind. They're even scarier.