Chapter Text
The days leading up to the dinner with Deucalion were the best in recent memory. Derek walked into school, his wolf rumbling in his chest. He found Stiles and was surprised that he greeted him with a kiss. It was a brazen and open display of affection that delighted the wolf. Not only was his chosen mate acknowledging him, he was doing so in a public setting. More than a few people had taken notice. Derek was one of two alphas in attendance. The fact that he was courting someone wasn’t going to go unnoticed. Thankfully, Stiles didn’t seem to care very much. But it wasn’t without complications.
Talia had said two new students would be attending the school. The twins from Deucalion’s pack, Ethan and Aiden. He didn’t like the presence of two unknown alphas. It felt like a challenge for his wolf. As if they were moving in on his territory. He was tense and on edge the entire day. It would’ve been better if he and Stiles shared any classes. But Derek was a senior. Stiles was a junior. The only time they saw each were in the mornings and during lunch. It was a considerable time to be apart. But Derek told himself that he would persevere. Scott wasn’t the type to be aggressive or bolster his alpha status. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were all trained in hand to hand combat. When it came down to it, they more than capable of holding up against an alpha.
He meets Ethan during second period. He’s Derek’s height and build. Around the same age to. The young man is forward and pleasant. Derek expected him to try and show some manner of a challenge. His brother Aiden certainly did. He moved in too close for comfort towards the red headed female, who Derek had learned was Lydia Martin. She was a year ahead of her age group, placing her in the senior class. But that’s not all that made her extraordinary.
Aiden was attempting to make unwanted advances. He never laid a hand on her, but he was too close for comfort. No doubt he was trying to spread his scent by proximity. It would’ve challenged Jackson’s claim on her. Made it a challenge. His intention was to cause trouble. Turns out, he bit off more than he could chew. Lydia calmly tolerated his annoyances until she didn’t. One sharp look and a command to leave sent the alpha running. He scampered off with his tail between his legs. Derek could feel it from here. The vast void surrounding the young woman. Within it, an endless fountain of sheer terror. There was something seriously powerful looming inside her. She wasn’t human, that much he knew. Whatever it was invoked a sense of fear even in alpha werewolves. Derek wasn’t keen to find out what it was.
The next part of the day that was worthy of note was when Derek saw Ethan attempting to accost Stiles by his locker between classes. If not for Scott, he would’ve charged the other alpha and beaten him half to death. Approaching someone who was being courted was a great disrespect. Forget a challenge in authority. It was a challenge to the very decency of werewolf tradition. But Scott held his arm, telling him to watch. So, Derek did just that.
Ethan did much like Aiden. He leaned in, arm extended, his hand on the locker next to Stiles’ head. He was talking about how much better he could be to him than Derek. How he could provide better, in every way. Including inside the bedroom. It took every ounce of willpower Derek had at that point not to charge. But he held firm, calmly watching Stiles reject Ethan. It was going well until Ethan touched him. At that point, he lost it. He had just began to charge when the unexpected happened.
Stiles socked Ethan straight in the groin, causing the man to hunch over in pain. Distracted by the pain, Stiles took the opportunity to kick the inside of Ethan left knee, causing him to crumble to the ground. In short, Ethan, an alpha werewolf, was on his knees before a human. The man had been thoroughly humiliated. To add insult to injury, Stiles gripped Ethan’s head and proceeded to slam it into the lockers. The alpha went down with a thump, and Stiles walked away towards his class without a care in the world.
Aiden came running up, getting his brother to his feet. Derek thought for sure that they would retaliate. Aiden moved towards Stiles, as if to attack. But he turned round, giving them both a sharp glare. He shook his head ever so slightly, and he kept on walking. Somehow, Stiles, a human, had managed to scare two alpha werewolves into stillness. Derek felt his wolf rumble with pride. His mate was not only an excellent provider, he was also strong and capable. A good protector on all fronts. Scott of course, was smiling ear to ear, his second clearly demonstrating his capabilities.
During lunch, they all gathered at the table. Jackson and Lydia joined them, the former clearly distressed at Aiden’s presence. Lydia laid her head on the young man’s shoulder, allowing him to take comfort in her scent. Scott was with Isaac and Kira. The young beta was still trying to allow himself to be intimate with Scott in public settings. He wasn’t used to that kind of attention. But Scott was an obliging and patient partner. He settled for having his arm draped across the other man’s shoulder. Kira was a little different.
Kitsune were as tactical as wolves, if not more so. Not so much for reasons of scent, but aura. They were inherently magical beings. Born of the primordial energies of the universe. Almost every species of them were connected to nature in one way or another. Their powers were tied to energy. Every person, human and non-human, had an aura. Wolves used scent to identify and recognize others. To associate certain things. Kitsune used people’s auras. And much like scent, it was stronger up close. Derek guessed that Kira found Isaac’s aura rather pleasant. She had leaned in, like Lydia and laid her head on Isaac’s shoulder. He wasn’t uncomfortable, just unaccustomed to such intimacy from someone who wasn’t his alpha. Derek was the only one who had been that straight forward with him. But it was a good sign nonetheless. Isaac was opening up to others, outside of the pack. Derek considered that a win.
Stiles was nothing like Isaac. He shamelessly sat in Derek’s lap, as if to say, look what I have. Look what you can’t have. If he had to guess, Derek assumed it was Stiles’ own way of staking a claim. To let the world know that Derek was his chosen, and that he was unavailable. It only made the wolf want to return the claim. To scent mark Stiles. To mingle themselves together, until no one could tell them apart. But even with his chosen’s blatant display, Derek didn’t feel completely comfortable doing it in public just yet. Perhaps when they next saw each other, in a private setting. Preferably where Erica couldn’t tease him. She had done so to Isaac the first time he came home smelling like Scott. His beta turned a rather deep shade of scarlet before scampering up towards his room.
It was a good feeling. Scott and the others felt like pack, even if they weren’t in an official setting. Looking back, all the anxiety he had towards him and Scott meeting seemed silly. They were getting along great. The betas of both their packs liked each other, and with Jackson joining his in the coming days, things were coming together. Derek wondered if Lydia would be joining him. She wasn’t human, but whatever she was didn’t feel like a pack creature. The coldness of her scent spoke of solidarity and isolation. The type that barely tolerated the presence of others. Derek knew that if she asked, he would accept, along with his mother. But not before knowing what exactly she was.
The day ended with them parting, Scott and Isaac heading to Kira’s house to meet her parents in an official capacity. Apparently, her mother was a nine hundred year old mountain fox. Derek heard that particular species were fierce warriors. Mischievous as the rest of them, but lethal when angered. Isaac was all but cowering in fear. But with the development in their relationship, Derek could understand Kira’s intentions. In her culture, such things weren’t kept a secret. Even if her parents didn’t approve, she wanted them to know. It was a respect thing. Derek rather admired Isaac for going along with it.
Erica and Boyd went back to her house, no doubt to spend some quality time with each other. Derek appreciated their discretion. Erica had always been the shameless type. Boyd was much more reserved. He was the tame to her wild. Even if they couldn’t cover the scent of it, Derek at least didn’t have to hear it. He liked to think his betas had some manners.
Stiles was in the parking lot, waiting for him by the Jeep. Ethan was standing just a few feet away, but as usual, Stiles seemed unfazed as the young alpha approached just as Derek walked up. The two of them stared each other down with the typical alpha ferocity. Stiles just chuckled lightly as he took Derek’s hand in his, pulling him in and resting his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Huh, didn’t peg you for the type Hale.” Ethan said.
“Like you’d be a better suit. Trying to make advances on someone who’s already being courted.”
“Well forgive me, he smells like himself. Maybe he’s just using you. Not wanting to be scent marked.”
Derek didn’t have time to give a retort. Instead, Stiles made his way towards Ethan. The young man was posturing. Underneath the swagger, there was a primal fear. Similar to what Aiden felt with Ethan. Something about those two invoked terror and pause in other supernaturals. As Derek was realizing, Stiles may not have been entirely human. Perhaps something close to Morrell and Deaton. Descendants of peoples with inherent connections to the world. To its energies. It would explain why Stiles was able to draw others towards him. Why he was able to sneak up on alpha werewolves. And most of all, why he seemed to scare the shit of other supernaturals.
Stiles was right in Ethan’s face, dangerously so. Derek could feel a certain thrum coming off of him. He smiled that wicked smile, and Ethan flinched back. Stiles cocked his head to the side, much like a cat did when observing a mouse. Right before it pounced that is.
“You know what I think? I think you feel threatened. Not by Derek, but by me. I flattened your ass on the ground, and you’re still bitter about that. And if I, a lowly human can do such a thing, then it’d be no issue for Derek to do a lot worse.”
Stiles walked back from Ethan, still smiling that smile of his. Once again, Derek felt his wolf rumble with pride. His chosen mate had gone against another alpha and came out on top. It was a sight to see. He took Derek’s hand in his again, and pulled him towards the Jeep. Before climbing inside, without turning towards the man, Stiles gave a warning.
“Tell your brother that if he values his continued sanity, he’ll leave Lydia alone.”
Derek didn’t bother to look at Ethan’s face. He knew the alpha was terrified. Whatever Lydia and Stiles were drove the fear of God into others. Relentlessly. On the surface, they appeared to be perfectly ordinary. But there was more to be known. The both of them were highly intelligent, ruthless masters of deception. Able to hide in plain sight until they no longer needed to. And when they didn’t, things got scary. Derek’s wolf rumbled at the knowledge that Stiles hadn’t been entirely truthful with him. There was something there, but he wasn’t going to press. He and Stiles were in a good place. Derek didn’t want to take the chance and ruin it.
They arrived at Stiles’ house in record time. Derek followed the younger man inside and felt a certain sense of tension rolling off of him. He felt his wolf rumble unhappily. The events of the day had left Stiles anxious and uncomfortable. That wasn’t all though. There was something else. And as usual, Stiles felt no hesitation in speaking his mind.
“Why haven’t you scent marked me?” The question was blunt and to the point. Derek was caught off guard. Generally, wolves didn’t think about it. Scent marking was something they just did. It was a natural reaction to being pack. The action was subconscious most of the time. Stiles, having been around Scott most of his life, had to know this. So for him to be questioning it means that he had been paying attention.
“It’s…It’s complicated.”
“Find the words Derek. You know I’ll listen.” Derek felt himself relax ever so slightly. Stiles wasn’t one to lose patience, nor was he quick to anger. He was calm and collected. Always ready to hear someone else’s side of the story. Derek loved that about him.
“Werewolf/human relationships are different. Especially since you’re Scott’s second. My wolf wants to, don’t get me wrong. It’s screaming at me to. But the human side tells me to wait. You’re human, and may not appreciate it.”
Stiles didn’t say anything. He seemed to be pondering what words he was choosing. The longer he stayed silent, the more worried Derek became. He was used to Stiles’ constant chatter. The never ending stream of conversation that seemed to follow wherever he went. Instead of saying anything, he moved towards Derek and pushed him against the wall. It was a shock to say the least. More so, Derek’s wolf offered submission. It recognized Stiles as worthy of it. Worthy of the intimacy involved. He offered his neck, tilting slightly to the side. Stiles took it as an offering, running his tongue along the length. Derek felt himself shudder in pleasure. Stiles had accepted his submission. It overjoyed the wolf. But he didn’t stop there.
The younger man ran his hands under Derek’s shirt. Long and nimble fingers exploring the length of his torso. When he got his nipples, Stiles gave them a slight pinch. Nothing hard, just a sharp jolt that made Derek lose feeling in his legs. Stiles was obviously rather experienced with this. He wondered what else Stiles wanted to do with his hands. More importantly, where he wanted to put them.
“Next time, just ask. I’ll never shame you for it. Besides, I like the idea of others knowing I’m yours. Even better, that you’re mine.” Derek didn’t even both containing the growl that rumbled in his throat. He removed Stiles hands, and buried his nose in the column of the man’s neck. Taking deep breaths of his pine and earth scent, he rand his hands over everything he could touch. Stiles, as he said, didn’t seem to mind at all. He could feel the heat coming from the other man’s body, the spicy scent of his arousal teasing Derek’s nose. There wasn’t much left in the way of self-control. Thankfully, Stiles stepped in.
“As much as I would like to continue, my dad will be home soon. And I think that he wouldn’t want to see us in this position.” Derek relented, but not before nibbling along the line of Stiles’ neck one last time. For the moment, his wolf was satisfied with what Stiles had given him. For the indulgence, for allowing him to scent mark. That was nothing to say of the way Stiles handled him. With such ease and confidence. Derek’s wolf had submitted without question. It was thrilling and terrifying in the same moment. He wondered how far that submission would go. And what Stiles was willing to give him.
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The night of the dinner, the Hale house erupted into a fury. Talia had prepared, having every last inch of the place cleaned. The floors, shiny enough to see one’s reflection. Every viable surface was dusted and free of dirt. The entire pack was gathered for the event. Erica wasn’t much on the fact that she had to clean such a large house. But Talia had a way with dealing with her that not even Derek could explain. And he was her alpha. Isaac and Boyd were a little easier to ply. If only by a small margin. But nothing compared to Stiles.
He showed up, bright and early. And by bright and early, he arrived at the house at eight in the morning. Toting a rather large amount of groceries. He didn’t speak to anyone or say anything. He simply made his way into the kitchen and started working. By the time the rest of the pack was awake, the house already smelled of rich spice and succulent meat. Whatever he was cooking was going to be outstanding. More than a few of the attending Hale wolves learned rather quickly how private Stiles was. Peter was the best. He sauntered in, his usual charming self. Thinking that he could get away with taking something, or picking at the food. In less than thirty seconds, he came scampering out of the kitchen. Reeking of sheer terror. Whatever Stiles did, it put the fear of God in him. None of the other wolves dared to enter after that.
Much to his surprise, Jackson showed up with Lydia in tow. He was visibly nervous and shaken. He hadn’t been around this many wolves before. As a kanima, even in human form, it was obvious what he was. The Hales were accommodating and gave him a wide birth. Particularly with Lydia present. Like Derek, the others sensed that she was something old and powerful. Something that wasn’t to be messed with. Even Talia was a little on edge. And that was saying something.
The young woman came strolling in, carrying several garment bags with her. Much to Derek’s surprise, she went straight for him. Wordlessly, she directed him upstairs and into the young man’s bedroom. Apparently, Talia had asked her assistance is getting the pack presentable for the evening. Lydia did have a sense for fashion, and in no time flat, Derek had tried on three different outfits. Each with their own pair of shoes. It was an exhausting process. To be shuffled into and out of clothes with no mercy by this young woman. By the end of it, he was a wreck of nerves and anxiety. He’d never spent this long in her presence before. And it was getting to him.
“Relax. Stress makes you bloat and I need you to fit into this shirt.”
“Sorry. It’s just, I’ve never….”
“Be around a banshee before.” she said interrupting him.
That made sense. Banshees were among the oldest and most gifted of the supernatural species. They had connection to portions of the universe that few others could boast. In fact, if most others had this connection, it would’ve driven them insane. In short, banshees were messengers for the dead or soon to be dead. Among other things. The oldest legends said that they could take any form they wanted. Most often that of a beautiful maiden or an old hag. And when they screamed, someone was doomed to die. They could also use their scream as a weapon. Never mind the fact that it was enough to bring any wolf to their knees, it could also make them return to human form. And that was something that very few supernatural entities could do. Derek understood now why he and other wolves were so on edge. Lydia was beautiful and intelligent. But she was also an ancient powerhouse that could level a city if she wanted to.
She continued with him for another hour before moving on. Isaac was next. The poor young man was on the verge of tears. Thankfully, Lydia had pre-selected his outfit and was done with him rather quickly. Erica was giddy as could be as she came down in a silky black dress that showed just the right amount of cleavage. Boyd was dressed similarly to Derek. Pressed black shirt, and trousers. That only left Stiles. Who was still busy in the kitchen. Even as frightful as Lydia could be, she knew better.
Scott arrived shortly after Lydia was done with the pack. She was none too happy with him cutting it this close. Liam and Kira were utterly baffled by how easily Lydia seemed to maneuver through the whole process. She had the lot of them dressed and presentable in no time at all. When it was all said and done, she came down in a strapless silver dress and a dangerous looking pair of high heels. They gathered in the parlor and waited for the other guests to arrive. Derek could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention when they walked through the door.
Deucalion and his pack were all dressed similarly. Muted neutral pallets. Ennis came lumbering in, stern faced. Kali was smiling wickedly behind the twins who actively looked terrified. Aiden was still reeling from whatever Lydia did to him. Ethan was looking left and right, no doubt hyper aware that Stiles was somewhere in the house. All in all, it was rather amusing to see them so on edge. Being alpha werewolves, it wasn’t easy to spook them. But Stiles and Lydia had done so. And it stuck.
Talia greeted Deucalion with as much grace as she could muster, given the circumstances. She detested the man, and was only tolerating him for the sake of avoiding conflict. Scott wasn’t happy with the man’s presence either. He had turned Jackson simply to cause trouble. Derek had little doubt that Deucalion knew that the bite would’ve gone wrong. Most likely, he wanted to find some reason to step in and assume a position of power in Beacon Hills. Stiles had prevented that. By doing so, it had drawn the man’s attention. His plan had failed. Rather stupendously. And now, he was here to try something else. Derek just didn’t know what it was.
They continued to converse amongst themselves before a small chiming sound rang through the air. It was sound signaling them to take their seats in the dining room. The procession crammed in to an elegant scene. Stiles chose a pristine white table cloth, free of wrinkles. The plates were fine china, with pitch black chargers. Finely crafted glassware gleamed beneath the light of the chandelier. It was a beautiful sight, more so once Derek saw what Lydia had given Stiles to be dressed in.
He was wearing a pressed black shirt with the sleeves perfectly rolled to his elbows. A sharp crimson vest hugged him in the very best of ways. Hair, perfectly tussled and not a strand out of place. Every single pair of eyes was on him. And for a very good reason. Derek felt his wolf rumble with pride and something a little bit more fiery. Stiles was standing perfectly still, waiting for everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated.” The group followed instruction. And once seated, Stiles clapped twice and out came the servers. He had hired a catering staff to help him serve the massive amount of food that he had been cooking since this morning. They brought out multiple carts, all filled with a divine smelling pastry. As half of them served the food, the other half poured a deep red wine into the drinking glasses. Stiles really did go all out.
“The first course is a something a little unusual, but profoundly delicious all the same. A play on a Nordic blood sausage, it’s been cooked with meat mince and baked into a pie. Brushed with garlic butter and egg wash. Served with subtle, but bold Pinot Noir. Please enjoy.”
Derek didn’t know what blood sausage was, but it was goddamn delicious. The pastry was perfect cooked and crumbled apart with little to no effort. The rest of the guests were stunned into silence by the sheer flavor of it all. The wine went perfectly with the dish, a silky wash over the tongue. It wasn’t long before every one had finished eating and Stiles was calling for entrée. The servers cleared the dishes away and Stiles went around and introduced himself. When he got to Deucalion, Derek tensed ever so slightly. This was going to be interesting. Stiles bowed his head, which was a shock to Derek. Human members of a pack didn’t bare throat. That was a wolf gesture. Instead, they bowed as a sign of recognition. Much to everyone’s surprise, Deucalion returned the gesture.
“That was wonderful Stiles. Where ever did you learn to cook like that?”
“My mother. And after her passing, self-taught. Cooking is an art and there is always more to learn.”
“Indeed there is.”
Kali was looking at Stiles with a certain hunger in her eyes. And not the good kind. It was almost predatory in nature. Stiles either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He leaned in and kissed the woman on the cheek. Kali made a move to try and scent mark Stiles, and Derek nearly leaped over the table to rip her head off. But Stiles took matters into his own hands. He coolly leaned in and whispered something into Kali’s ear. The woman’s face dropped into fear and her face went pale. In mere seconds, he had frightened an alpha into stillness. Again. Derek never ceased to be amazed by him.
Stiles didn’t even bother with the twins, or Ennis. Ethan and Aiden didn’t take offense to this. Ennis however was obviously annoyed with being passed over for a greeting. It didn’t seem to concern Stiles very much. He only ever dealt with people he felt dealing with. And Ennis wasn’t one of them. He was by no means an extraordinary alpha. He was a simple brute with no manners or class. And Stiles made sure Ennis knew it.
The servers came out with the entrée, taking away the previous course. The smell of it making Derek’s mouth water. Stiles stood at attention, ready to introduce the next dish.
“For the next course, roast stuffed with garlic and shallots. Cooked in sherry, served with roasted new potatoes and asparagus hollandaise. All tied together with a wonderful Chilean Malbec.”
The plates were passed around, each of the servers giving them a generous portion. This dish exceeded Derek’s every expectation. The roast was tender beyond belief, bursting with rich flavor. The potatoes had been smothered in butter, giving them a crispy skin. Perfectly seasoned. Even the asparagus were wonderful. And Derek hated them. Once again, all the guests were stunned into silence. Even Deucalion, who was known for long winded speeches, had nothing to say. It was astounding. With a simple meal, Stiles had left some of the most influential werewolves on the west coast completely speechless. And Stiles knew it. If the smug grin on his face was anything to go by.
After the entrée was finished, Stiles brought out desert. It was some manner of fruit tart. This one, he served personally. Derek’s betas were bouncing with anticipation. Erica had one said that no one could bake better than Stiles. That everything he made, no matter what the desert was, was beyond compare. And this dish, Stiles served personally. Thanking each of the guests for attending. Things were going well. Until, of course, when he got to Ennis. The man had been steaming the entire meal. Derek was surprised that he hadn’t lashed out. But what he did next, took everyone for a turn.
When Stiles went to serve him, the man reached behind, and grabbed a handful of Stiles’ backside. Derek didn’t have time to react. Didn’t have time to be angry. Stiles took the serving knife and plunged it directly into Ennis’ arm. The alpha howled in pain. But before he could retaliate, Stiles slammed his hand into the man’s throat, sending him sputtering for air. Derek was by his side in an instant, pulling him away. Deucalion was smiling wickedly. As if it had happened the way he wanted it to. And Derek knew the consequences. If Ennis had been human, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But he was an alpha, and Stiles was second to another. And he had just challenged Ennis, in front of witnesses. It didn’t bode well. If Stiles didn’t respond to the challenge, Ennis would take on Scott, and claim his pack. Derek knew he was no pushover, but Ennis had seven inches and sixty pounds on him. It wasn’t going to end well.
“Well, that was certainly something.” Deucalion sneered.
“Pardon me for not taking a liking to being sexually assaulted.” Stiles spat. Ennis rose to respond, having regained his breath. Talia was there, in front of him. Even though she was no longer an alpha, Ennis backed off all the same. People respected Talia on principal. For alphas like Ennis, who respected no one, they instead feared her.
“The challenge will take place outside. Destroy any part of my home, and I will render you in two.” Talia’s word was final. Stiles was going to fight Ennis. And he was going to lose. No matter how clever or quick he was, Stiles was human. Ennis was an alpha. There was no contest. This had been Deucalion’s plan all along. He wasn’t going after Derek. Scott was his goal. His pack was small and new and fragile. More than likely, he wanted to add Scott to his band of alphas. He used Deucalion to agitate Stiles, who would respond with violence, thus challenging him. So on and so forth. Derek was almost willing to compliment its brilliance. If it wasn’t so damn terrible.
Stiles seemed perfectly calm. As if nothing was wrong. He was talking in a hushed tone with Jackson and Lydia. The young woman wasn’t happy. Jackson seemed to be unnerved with whatever he was talking about with Stiles. The conversation didn’t last long. They walked away and Derek found himself by Stiles’ side, nose buried in his neck. He took deep breaths of the man’s scent, willing himself to calm down. To find peace. He was on the verge of losing it. To going after Ennis himself. But he knew that would only cause more trouble. Stiles had made the challenge, so he would have to be the one to respond to it. And there was nothing he could do about it.
“You’re worried.” It wasn’t a question. It was a simple statement. Stiles always seemed to know what Derek was feeling. And how to respond. He stroked small circles in between Derek’s shoulders. Massaging out the tension building in his spine. It was heavenly. Perfect. Derek was still nervous. He feared for Stiles. Feared in ways he didn’t know was possible. But he also had faith. Stiles was an alpha in his own right. Leader and protector. Derek knew that he would find a way. Even if it wasn’t something that he was expecting.
They gathered outside. Stiles on side of the yard, Ennis on the other. The man was sneering, obviously confident in the chances of his victory. Stiles on the other hand was calm, and collected. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes. There was something there. Something that he was hiding. Derek didn’t know what it was. He suspected that it had something to do with Stiles’ talent for sneaking up on people. That defied sense and reason. He knew it was going to be of help here. He just didn’t know it what way. He could only hope that Stiles walked away unharmed.
Ennis snarled, letting the shift take over. He bared fang and charged. Rumbling towards Stiles, who wasn’t moving. He was perfectly still. And then, he wasn’t. In a blur, he launched forward and swung towards Ennis. The scent of blood filled the air. It wasn’t Stiles. It was Ennis. Sometime during the charge, he had produced a small knife. Ennis had a slight cut on his cheek. A small line of blood running down his jaw. A worthless injury. It wouldn’t even slow the man down. In fact, it would heal in a matter of seconds. Except, it didn’t. Ennis wasn’t moving. Or rather, it seemed as if he was having trouble moving. Then, he collapsed, grunting in pain. The man had been paralyzed. And Derek knew exactly how.
Stiles was Jackson’s master. He could command him at will. And the kanima’s most powerful feature was its venom. It paralyzed every muscle in the body. It even rendered alphas helpless. There was no immunity to it. Once in the blood, there was no stopping it. And the knife had been lace with it. Ennis was doomed the moment Stiles cut him. The fight was lost. Stiles trotted over towards Ennis and hunched down. He was smiling that smile. The smile that said he had won. That he was better. And he was. Stiles placed his hand over Ennis’ throat, turning his head to the side. It was a sign of submission and victory in the same moment. In one move, Stiles had defeated one of the most brutish alphas on the west coast. And apparently, this didn’t please Deucalion at all.
“A nasty little trick.”
“No more so than using your cronies to try and insight violence. Turnabout is fair play my good man.” Stiles sneered. That didn’t help things. Deucalion motioned for the others to move forward. Shame he didn’t see the two people that had already circled behind. Jackson slammed into Deucalion, throwing him across the yard. Then he wrapped his tail around Kali’s neck. He had shifted to kanima form in the blink of an eye. And Lydia had her hands on both Ethan and Aiden’s necks. The twins were stilled, pale faced. Reeking of fear. Their eyes were blown wide, staring at some unknown horror. They collapsed to the ground, seemingly unconscious.
Deucalion was just starting to get back up when Stiles threw his hand into the air, a dark cloud settling around the monstrous alpha. Mountain ash. Stiles had made a barrier of it. No matter how strong Deucalion was, he wasn’t getting through that. It effectively trapped all members of the shifter species. No exceptions.
“You little shit.”
“Next time, try and make sure you have all your bases covered. You came after my alphas, threatened my friends, and me. All the while you didn’t know that I was Jackson’s master, or that Lydia was a banshee. Who by the way, is still pretty pissed that you turned her boyfriend. Aren’t you Lyds?”
Lydia didn’t answer. She just walked towards Deucalion, stopping just shy of the circle. The young woman stood there, eyes filled with rage. Unlike anything Derek had seen before. The air seemed to shimmer with it. He could feel the heat of her fury from here. And all the while, Stiles was still smiling.
“Fun tid bit for you. Banshees hold grudges, for life. And once wronged, they don’t stop seeking retribution. One of their favorite tactics is to inflict the suffering of the dead on others. To make them hear and feel their sorrow. How many are dead because of you Deucalion? How many souls lost?” The man didn’t have time to answer. Lydia inhaled sharply, then let out the most ear piercing scream Derek had ever heard. The ground seemed to shake. The earth calling out in response to her cry. Deucalion clamped his hands over his ears, to no avail. There was no blocking it out. No stopping it. The banshee’s cry was immutable. This was his misery and his punishment.
The cry faded, and Derek was able to regain his senses. Deucalion was still standing. Only he was no longer alive. His eyes were bloodshot, his ears bleeding profusely. His skin had gone white, his heart silent. The alpha of alphas was dead. As a goddamn doornail.
“Let that be a warning to the rest of you. Leave, and next time you think of recruiting in Beacon Hills, don’t.” Stiles snapped his fingers, and Jackson released his hold on Kali. The woman collapsed the ground, sputtering for air. The twins arose scampering towards Ennis. They hauled him off the ground, carrying him away. The sheriff rushed towards Stiles, trapping him in a hug. The young man endured the near bone crushing embrace for as long as possible.
Things went by in a thick haze after that. The sheriff called in a swarm of deputies to take statements and the like. One of the deputies, Parrish, who happened to be a hellhound, broke the mountain ash line to retrieve Deucalion’s body. As a hellhound, it was his literal charge to care for the deceased supernatural. Handy to have around to say the least. Stiles and Lydia were grilled the hardest. The two of them being the ones that lead to Deucalion’s death. No one was mad about it. The man was a monster. Through and through. There wasn’t a soul on the face of the earth that was going to miss him. But everyone had been stunned into silence from Stiles’ actions. Derek among them.
He knew Stiles was strong. That he was capable. That he was a devoted guardian and protector. But he had never imagined this. The power in which he truly possessed. It wasn’t in strength or anything that a shifter had. It was sheer, unfiltered willpower. The desire to do right and keep safe that which he loved. Shamelessly, completely. It was his defining trait. The means in which he carried himself. But there was something else that had gotten Derek’s attention. Stiles had said that Deucalion had threatened his alphas. Scott was his alpha as pack leader. That much was certain. The other alpha was Derek. Stiles’ chosen courting partner. And he had acknowledged that in front of twenty plus people. In the world of werewolves, that meant something. And it wasn’t to be taken lightly.
Derek found his way towards Stiles without even realizing that he was moving. He took the man in his arms, holding him close. Taking in the warmth of his skin, the embrace of his scent. Together, it settled the already overexcited wolf. It was howling at Derek to return the acknowledgement. To prove to Stiles that he recognized him as a worthy mate choice. It was frightening and thrilling in the same moment. It left Derek’s head reeling. He tried to compose himself, but to no avail. He instead settled on holding Stiles close, keeping him away from further harm.
“You okay there, big guy?”
“Just happy you’re okay. That’s all.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth. He wanted to tell Stiles how he felt. What he meant to him. But he couldn’t find the words. There wasn’t any language that could convey it. So, Derek did what his wolf told him was right. He pulled away from Stiles, taking a deep breath. Then, he was kneeling. Kneeling before his chosen mate, offering his throat. Alphas never submitted. They were the leaders of their pack. The heads of their families. They commanded authority and respect. But in this instance, an alpha bowed. Offered themselves to their mates, showing their worth. That they were equal. That they alone were worthy of this gesture. Just as Stiles had acknowledged it in front of others, Derek was doing it now.
The young man didn’t make a joke. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t being sly or coy. It was one of the only times Derek had ever seen him serious. He took his hand and brushed long, slender fingers over Derek’s throat. Acceptance. Recognition. To say, you are my alpha. And I am yours. We are one. Derek felt his wolf howl with a joy he had yet to experience in this life. He rose from his stance, and kissed Stiles with all the fierceness he had to give. The young man didn’t seem to mind too much. The others did though. Scott and Isaac were making gagging noises. Erica was wolf whistling. Stiles just flipped them off. And to drive the point home, he grabbed a handful of Derek’s ass.
As they parted, Stiles took Derek’s hand in his. They moved towards the rest of the pack, together. Just before they got within earshot, Stiles whispered that they should celebrate. And he had plenty of ideas on how to. It involved a lot of lube and something out of the karma sutra. Derek was never one for the unexpected. Much like Stiles. Then again, then unexpected wasn’t always a bad thing.