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It’s night now and his heart is still pumping furiously and he hisses at the betas when they come within ten feet of him but he still laps up the mountain dew Scott poured into a bowl for him, ears flattened and tail lashing. When he’s done he shuffles back a ways, bares his teeth, smacks at the bowl so it goes flying at the wolves and sprays them with the soda’s remains.
Derek’s been talking to Deaton for an hour and Erica is still laughing despite Isaac’s hand covering her mouth and Stiles feels the anger burning in his chest, claws digging into the dewy earth, mouth opening around a low growl. He sets his forepaws close together, hunches his shoulders, shimmies his hind legs further apart and springs, easily leaping the fifteen or so feet between him and the betas.
He hears Scott calling his name and Allison notching an arrow but pays them no mind, bats Isaac away with one heavy paw, knocks Erica onto her back. He closes his mouth around her throat, presses down lightly, lays his tongue flat so he can feel her swallow, taste the fear leaking from her pores. She whines softly, tilts her head back as much as she can. Stiles growls but accepts it, gives a soothing lick to the indents in her skin as he back off. She stays on her back, lays her hands on her ribs, pulls her shirt up a bit so he can see the sensitive twitch of her belly.
He nudges her hip with his nose, flops down beside her, stretches with a satisfied rumble. The tightness and hot anger in his chest seep away and he closes his eyes, leans his head into Scott’s hand as Allison and the wolves join him and Erica, all pointedly leaning their heads to the side. He grabs Isaac around the waist, tugs him down so the beta is trapped up against his front, licks at his messy hair with a low purr.
Isaac laughs and it sounds a little wet like maybe he wants to cry and Stiles licks harder, pulls him closer, paws at him gently.
Derek and Deaton finally come out of the house and Derek’s claws glow like a beacon through Stiles’ new eyes, fingers flexing like he doesn’t really trust Stiles with his pups and he feels his ears flatten and he licks insistently at Isaac’s hair and cheek and neck, closes his eyes.
And when he’s able to shift back to human again he falls onto the couch and Isaac follows hesitantly, tucks his head up under Stiles’ chin and he resists the urge to groom him further because it might be awkward like this but he lets himself purr, rubs his hand soothing along Isaac’s back, apologizes for hitting him with a gentle headbutt. Isaac shifts so his face is more wolf than man and licks at his chin, the corner of his mouth and Derek sighs, drops his hands onto their heads.
He thinks of his mother, of Laura, how they would laugh because this seventeen year old kid is a wereleopard and alpha of a wolf pack. His mate.