Chapter Text
“Yes or no, Stiles?”
“No,” Stiles responded. “I don’t want to be like you.”
Peter smirked as he held Stiles' wrist in his hand. “Do you know what I heard just then?” He rubbed his thumb along the rapid pulse point in the teen’s wrist. “Your heart jumping over ‘I don’t want’. Seems to me you do 'want'.”
Before Stiles could react, Peter grabbed the bottom of Stiles’ t-shirt, pulled it up to bear her side and bit down. He quickly pulled back and met her furious and fear-filled gaze.
“Thank you for your assistance in locating my missing nephew,” Peter purred as he tucked his laptop under his arm and sauntered out of the Stilinski home.
Stiles stood there stunned. He’d bitten her. Peter had actually fucking bitten her, even though she’d helped, even though she’d said no.
“No good deed goes unpunished, I guess,” she mumbled to herself.
She didn’t know what she was going to do now. She’d been sure she’d always be the token human. Wanted to be, even. But Peter fucking Hale had taken that decision away from her.
She headed upstairs to take a shower. She felt dirty in ways that had less to do with the blood on her side and more to do with feeling used - violated, even. She’d always been raised that no means no. And regardless of what her heart had done, she’d said no.
Tears streamed down her face as she took the hottest shower that she could stand, nearly scalding her skin in the process. Sooner than she would’ve liked, the water heater ran cold, forcing her to get out. She quickly put on one of her dad’s old, worn t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
The bite wasn’t bleeding anymore so she didn’t bother covering it. It would heal. Based on what she’d discovered, if her body hadn’t rejected the bite by now, it wasn’t going to. She was going to turn. No sense in wasting first aid supplies, she thought dejectedly.
An hour later, still curled in the fetal position on her bed, the pain started. Scott hadn’t mentioned there being any paid during his transition. It felt like popping and shattering. Deeper than just inside her chest. Deep down in her very soul.
Stiles tried to breathe through it, and at first she succeeded. But soon, the shattering turned into tearing. Her flesh, she realized. Claws shredded her nails and skin as they forced their way out. She could taste blood when fangs ripped through her gums, tearing up the inside of her mouth. And then her back . . . she could’ve sworn it felt like her back was giving birth. Then nothing.
She wasn’t sure how long she was unconscious, but when she woke up she knew she was irrevocably different. And worse, she knew, down to her soul, that she wasn’t a wolf. A wolf she could handle - knew how to handle. But she was something different. Something . . . more. And Stiles knew that she couldn’t let anyone know about it.