1
After seeing the wreck his father turned into after his mom’s death, Stiles Stilinski decided that soulmates were bullshit and he didn’t want to have anything to do with them.
The fact that he lived in a world where they were an actual thing irritated him to no end. The whole thing was bullshit! You could be going about your perfectly ordinary day, cross paths with some stranger, and—bam!—you just met your fucking soulmate.
Everyone described it like a zap. Like time slowing down. Blah, blah, boring romanticized bullshit, blah.
The details didn’t matter since you’d get a special mark on your right hand, marking your brand new bond to some asshole you don’t know. Or maybe you did.
Probably the most bullshit thing about it was that everyone met their soulmate—ridiculous considering that there were billions of people. Stiles didn’t even care that people had more than one. Or that there were complex poly soulmates that just so happened to ensure everyone had exactly what they needed.
He didn’t care that if you lost your soulmate, you’d find another.
It sounded nice except for the fact that losing a soulmate could destroy a person. Could turn your awesome dad into a drunken shell of a person that you then needed to give up your childhood to take care of. You know, instead of getting to grieve for your mom and lean on your remaining parent.
Bull. Shit.
The worst was that because everyone eventually met their soulmate, dating or anything like that was basically off the table. No one wanted to start a relationship that had no future. You could get laid and have friends with benefits but anything more? Nope.
Stiles didn’t care. He was opting out of the whole thing even if it meant he was alone forever.
He wouldn’t let himself be destroyed when it all ended.
He would make his own choices.
Meeting his soulmate was about the only thing that kept Derek going most days. There wasn’t much else going for him.
He was a werewolf who’d nearly gotten his pack killed because a hunter targeted him for being weak. Then she’d touched him and it was gross and he hadn’t liked it. So he told his alpha—also his mom. Worse was finding out that the substitute had been a hunter who then complained to other hunters about him and suddenly the whole pack was being threatened. And while his mom believed him… his alpha was angry at the danger the pack was in, all because of him.
The problem, Derek thought, was that when your mom was also your alpha, the alpha always came first. Pack always came first.
Derek understood that. He did. What frustrated him is that—from what he could tell—he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done all the right things. The things they say you should do if an adult touches you in a way you don’t like.
He’d done everything right—and lost his family anyway.
Derek had been shipped off to live with an allied pack. To live with, not join. His mom didn’t want him leaving the pack but his alpha couldn’t handle having him around. It was like an extended, unending time-out. He was caught somewhere between being a beta and an omega.
It hurt being so far away from his alpha and pack. The pack he’d ended up spending the rest of his childhood with had been kind. As kind as they could be with a non-pack wolf. He didn’t want for anything… except the constant touches and scent-marking of pack.
Maybe if he was human, it wouldn’t matter as much. But those things were as necessary as food for a wolf. So it wasn’t a surprise that by the time he was eighteen and able to leave, he was a surly, moody, and faded version of the boy who’d once been a popular jock.
His body was strong and a source of constant desire. Derek hadn’t had much to do but push his body to it’s limits, over and over again, in an effort to exhaust himself enough to sleep.
To forget the constant, aching pain.
Derek hadn’t gone home, though, after high school. He was at college, able to go because of a trust fund. He could’ve gone home; Derek had been too afraid of his welcome. As much as he ached for his pack… a part of him hated them.
None of them. Not a single one had visited him. Not even his mom. He’d tried to stay in touch, the first year. But… no one else had.
Derek was afraid that going back and reminding them he existed would result in finally being pushed out and becoming an omega. So, instead, he was going to college.
Derek knew he spent far too much time daydreaming about his potential mate. About the person who’d be his and who’d he belong to. About filling in—even just a little—that gaping hole in his soul.
But… who could blame him?
2
Stiles was excited about Berkeley. As much as he’d wanted to go out of state, he couldn’t afford it. Berkeley was a top-tier school with in-state tuition. Stiles had a scholarship and zero desire to finish college with a giant loan.
He wanted out of California so he could be away from his dad. At least the drive was long enough that his dad wouldn’t expect to see him outside of holidays. Stiles could finally stop taking care of him and focus on himself for once.
It was going to be epic.
Of course… just as he was thinking this—on his way to his first college party—time slowed and everything took on this over-saturated quality. There was a burning on his right hand and when he looked, it was a pattern of three spirals.
Because he was about to meet his fucking soulmate.
More than anything, he was relieved to finally have this over with. To not have this thing dangling over his head anymore. He’d meet his soulmate, tell them ’thanks, but no thanks,’ and move on with his life.
Stiles bumped into a very solid and broad chest. Little tantalizing curls of hair peeking out of a v-neck. He looked up a few inches into ridiculous unicorn eyes and a face too handsome to be real.
Holy shit! This was his soulmate? He almost wished he was into the idea because this man was the hottest person he’d ever seen.
The man’s mouth—framed by a soft-looking beard—opened to reveal unfairly cute bunny teeth and he spoke in a voice that was smooth and breathless, “Hi,” bright sunshine smile.
Shit. This was going to be like punching a baby, wasn’t it?
“Um… hey,” Stiles managed to squeak out.
“I’m Derek, it’s–”
“Hey. Um, I’m Stiles and I’m sorry but this,” Stiles gestured between them, “isn’t going to happen. The whole soulmate thing is bullshit and I refuse to be a part of it. And, wow, you’re almost pretty enough to make me forget that, so good on you,” Stiles saw something shutter in Derek’s face and he wasn’t sure what part of what he’d said had caused the reaction, “But, um, yeah. How about we go on with our evening and pretend like this never happened?” Stiles hopefully asked.
Derek looked at him for a long moment and in a flat, toneless voice said, “Okay,” before turning and walking away.
Stiles watched for a moment, body sagging with relief. That had gone really well.
Derek felt like he was dying as he walked away from his mate, his last hope for a better future shattered. He didn’t know what he was going to do.
But he knew what he had to do. It was time for Derek to go back to his pack. He wouldn’t survive without either his pack or his mate (or even the hope of his mate).
He took a deep breath and called his alpha.
“Hi, sweetheart,” his mom’s voice was soothing but not the words. The last time she’d used the endearment had been when she told him that: ‘you only have to go for a short while, sweetheart, until things settle down’.
“Alpha Hale, am I still in good standing with the pack?” Derek asked.
“Derek, honey, of course, you are… This will always be your home. And I’m not just your alpha, you don’t need to be so formal, even though I’m glad you remember your manners.”
“Thank you, Alpha Hale. I’ll be returning to the territory in a few days,” Derek informed her.
“Oh! Fantastic, I’ll get your room cleaned. It’s not exactly the same, since I figured you wouldn’t want a child’s room.”
“I appreciate the offer to host me, Alpha Hale, but it isn’t necessary.”
“Oh. If you’re sure… be sure to come and see us when you get here.”
“I would never enter the territory without immediately paying my respects,” Derek assured her.
“Good, good. I have to go now, see you soon!”
Derek growled at his phone when she hung up. That was their first conversation in ten years and that was it? Had she just… forgotten that she sent him away?
It didn’t matter. Derek knew no one wanted him, now that even his soulmate had rejected him.
3
Stiles was home for Thanksgiving and already hating it. There were so many chores to do around the house. All the things he used to do and, apparently, his dad never would. Stiles wasn’t doing everything. He hadn’t contributed to most of the mess and refused to deal with it. But there was no way he was using the bathroom in its current condition.
Scott came over shortly after he finished and was staring at his ceiling, thinking about Derek. He didn’t realize it, but he’d been stroking a finger over his soulmark. Stiles had made a habit of always keeping it covered up.
“Dude! You met your soulmate? Why haven’t I heard anything about them?” Scott asked excitedly.
Stiles groaned. Scott was a total romantic and while he’d listened patiently to Stiles’ rants about soulmates, he’d held onto the belief that Stiles would change his tune once he met his, “Because we didn’t do anything other than meet. The only thing I know about him is his first name and that he’s ridiculously beautiful.”
“What, why? What happened?”
“Exactly what I always said. We bumped into each other, I said I wasn’t interested and then we moved on with our lives,” Stiles said.
Scott was making his sad puppy face, “But… he’s your soulmate, how could reject him like that?”
“You know why.”
“Yeah, but… you’re his soulmate too. And now he doesn’t get one because of your ridiculous ideas,” Scott protested.
“Scott, I don’t owe anyone anything and he didn’t even fight for it. I’m guessing fate did its usual thing and we’re soulmates because neither of us actually wants one,” that really was Stiles’ opinion and not just something he was saying to get Scott off his case.
It’s sometime in December, Derek realizes, when he’s in town and sees decorations everywhere. He’s in the store, gathering some food and other supplies when he catches a whiff of his mate. Here, in Beacon Hills.
He pauses for a long moment and just breathes in the scent for long moments. It’s only a trace but it’s still the best scent he’s experienced in a long time. He thinks that maybe this is what human drugs must feel like.
Derek has no idea what his mate is doing in Beacon Hills. He has a terrible thought… Stiles might be from here. It’s close enough to Berkeley and while it isn’t the smallest town, Beacon Hills is the sort of place you go to only if you have a reason. It’s possible Stiles is here for camping but it’s also Thanksgiving—which most likely means he’s home for the holiday.
He hopes that Stiles will be one of those kids who leave town and only comes back for holidays. It would be a special kind of torture to live only with these ghost trails of scent. Perhaps the odd sighting or two.
But…
Derek’s used to having only a little of what he wants. A special kind of torture but, he supposes, it’s a good thing he’s strong enough to withstand it. It might break him in the end but that’s okay. Derek’s pretty sure he’s been breaking for years.
Of course, because this is his life, Stiles rounded the corner of the aisle he was in and spotted him.
“Oh,” came a soft exclamation, “Derek? You’re here… in Beacon Hills. Wh–” Stiles
Derek had no idea what Stiles was going to say because he just nodded brusquely and walked away, abandoning his shopping basket. He’d come back tomorrow for his supplies.
Stiles didn’t want him and Derek could only take so much. He had no desire to talk to Stiles, to get to know him. Maybe if he’d had a different life, he might’ve been able to settle for having Stiles as a friend.
His experience coming home to his pack had made it abundantly clear that almost getting what you wanted was worse than not having it at all.
Coming home two years ago had been worse than he’d imagined. Derek thought life was funny like that, it could always get worse and usually surprised you with how much. His biggest fear had been getting turned away and becoming an omega.
Instead, everyone had been friendly. Nice. Derek hadn’t understood. They’d pushed him out years ago and then, what, wanted to pretend like nothing had happened? Like he hadn’t been isolated and suffering for years? And now that he was back, he could just slot easily back into his old life?
He didn’t fit anymore. He was all rough, sharp edges and more than a little feral, compared to them. Derek had gone to his old house to pay respects to his alpha. She’d done the minimal needed to scent-mark him and then invited him to dinner. He’d accepted because he wanted his pack back.
They were friendly and welcoming. They also only did the minimum necessary to scent-mark him. He was a stranger to them. Like they’d really forgotten him while he was away and now there was this wolf who they knew was pack but wasn’t family. Not quite trustworthy because he was new to the pack. Even as his mom talked about his old room.
The dissonance between the speech and the acts fucked with his head and he’d realized that he couldn’t be around them. Being back on his pack’s territory and the perfunctory scent-marking had been enough to stabilize him. It was all he needed, so it was all he took.
Stiles was home for the summer. He wasn’t really looking forward to having to take up his household duties but after he’d only done the minimum, his dad had told him that if he wanted to stay rent-free, he’d need to do them. It was irritating as shit.
Fortunately, he had a summer job which would keep him busy and out of the house. With that and his dad’s work schedule, he probably wouldn’t have to see him a lot. If at all.
Less fortunate was the dog bite he was currently nursing. He’d been out in the woods drinking with Scott. Then, on the way back to his jeep, something had come out of nowhere and bit him. Now that he was thinking about it, he should change the bandage.
Stiles was in the washroom when he peeled back the gauze and saw that it looked… almost healed. Like actually and totally almost healed. Something that wasn’t possible. Not in the real world. Stiles had needed stitches—that he didn’t actually get—so the wound had been bad.
Fuck. What was going on?
Focus on the details.
He’d been in the words last night. It had been late and dark… but not too dark because… the full moon.
Stiles thinks of the howling you hear around Beacon Hills. Thinks about how wolves don’t live in California. Thinks about being bitten last night but mostly healed today.
Thinks about full moons, biting, and howling.
There’s really only one conclusion: he’d been bitten by a werewolf!
Fuck his life.
4
Derek looked around his small cabin and wondered if he should go for a run. He’d already done one today and it was close to the time he started avoiding the preserve—he didn’t want to see any of his pack.
He’d asked his alpha for permission to build a cabin on their land and she’d granted it, a little surprised. Derek had built it as far as he could from the main house. It was deep into the preserve. You couldn’t reach it by the road. It took two hours of running to get to his family’s home. There was no running water or electricity.
Derek called it a cabin but that was generous. He’d built it himself and he knew fuck all about construction. It was a wooden shack with a dirt floor. It kept the wind and rain out and that was about it. It didn’t matter, he spent most of his time fully shifted.
His family didn’t know what to think of him, if they thought about him at all. Derek would show up every full moon and sit in the trees, the house barely visible. He didn’t run with them. Ever.
Sometimes, when the separation grew too much, he’d howl.
They never howled back.
Well… except for his Uncle Peter. He’d always been Derek’s favourite uncle, even if he was a little mean. Derek understood now—it was because he was also on the periphery of the pack, as the enforcer. His alpha was a good alpha but she… tried a little too hard to play human. Still wolf enough to make use of his uncle but too human to want him around, with his ice-blue eyes.
Peter had been the only one to seek him out at his cabin. The only one who made an effort. He talked to Derek and didn’t mind that he didn’t talk back, reading Derek’s scent and body language well enough. Peter also scent marked him like he was pack and family. He let Derek scent-mark him in return.
Derek is pretty sure that without his uncle’s influence, he wouldn’t be fit for human society at all. He barely is, as is. Good thing he rarely goes into town.
Stiles was in the grocery store trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do (not about dinner but about being a bloodthirsty creature of the night).
Someone stepped behind him and he felt a flood of power. It took every ounce of will not to turn and bare his neck.
“Stiles, isn’t it?” Mayor Talia Hale asked.
“Um, yup, that’s me, Mayor Hale. How, um, lovely to see you. And stuff,” Stiles had never been this nervous and antsy in front of Mayor Hale. His dad was the sheriff, they were less than acquaintances and more than strangers.
“I see there have been some recent… changes in your life,” Mayor Hale said with mild curiosity.
“I guess…” Stiles said unsure.
“Perhaps you should come to the house with me to discuss them,” her smile was sharp and scarily predatory.
“No, thank you?”
“You sound uncertain. Let me clarify, you will come to the house. Now.” she growled out and holy shit her eyes were glowing red. Just like his glowed gold.
It is a known fact that Stiles is a little shit. He wanted to be contrary. Wanted to say no. But he wanted to listen and please this woman more, so he nodded, following her out of the store.
“Why don’t you come in, Stiles?” Mayor Hale said as she opened the door. Stiles swallowed and followed her into the living room.
They sat on comfy chairs, facing the other. Stiles—in general—didn’t handle silence well and when he was anxious? Yeah.
“Are you the one that turned me into a mythical monster? Because I gotta say, what the fuck?” Not the best opening, he’ll admit.
Talia’s eyes started glowing crimson, “Careful, boy. If you truly wish to have any hope of surviving in this world, you’ll show me the respect I’m due, as the alpha of this territory.”
“Was that a threat?” Stiles challenged.
She shrugged, “No. This is, mind your manners and know your place or I’ll kill you. Without a pack, a newly turned wolf like you will be a danger on the next full moon. This is my territory to protect and I’ll do what’s necessary.”
“Know my place? Fuck you,” Stiles spat because he was exactly that kind of shit. Before he could blink she had him pinned to the wall by his neck. He could feel little rivers of blood leaking from his neck, where her claws were digging in.
That all sucked but… fuck the power she exuded was something else. Instinctually, he tried to pry her wrists off. It had no effect. Then… something strange happened. Her eyes flicked to his hands and the dominance she’d been pushing on him just… vanished. She didn’t put him down, though.
“My apologies. Once you’re fully turned, you’ll gain enough instincts to know not to challenge alphas like you just did. My family, my pack, we generally live human lives. And while we are predators, we aren’t killers. I’m willing to chalk this up to your being thrust into a new world, your instincts not settling, and some youthful folly. This is your last warning, be respectful,” her crimson eyes never looked away from his.
Something in the change of her tone shifted his mood just enough to clear his head. He wasn’t this… aggressive and mouthy, not anymore. Growing up a little had taught him when to stop pushing. He knew better but… fuck. He was a werewolf and it was messing with his head. Great.
“Fine. But, um, did you bite me?” Stiles asked after he felt his wounds heal. So weird!
“No. There was a rogue alpha. Alphas are the only wolves who can gift the bite. We aren’t supposed to do it without consent. That’s one reason he was killed,” Talia explained, tone frosty.
“Did you kill him? Is that why you’re the alpha?” Stiles wondered.
“No. I inherited my spark from my mother. Most of my family and pack are born werewolves.”
“Oh, wow. The entire Hale family are werewolves?” Stiles was gaping.
“No, some of the pack is human. To clarify, I’m the alpha of the Hale pack but the pack includes more than just family. Pack is one thing and family is another. Sometimes they overlap and when they don’t, pack always comes first. Something to remember if you join us,” Talia said and, wow, she wasn’t warming up to Stiles at all. Except she’d been a little friendly in the beginning… so something had changed and it wasn’t his attitude.
“You said I needed to join a pack?” Stiles questioned.
“There are three types of wolves: alpha, beta, and omega. Betas are wolves in a pack with an alpha. Omegas are lone wolves—wolves without a pack. Omegas tend to have very short lifespans. We are social creatures and we have metaphysical bonds that make us stronger, that keep us stable.”
Stiles loved getting info, “And I should join yours?”
Talia tilted her head, “Informally, you are already in the pack since one of my betas killed the alpha that bit you. When that happens, the alpha’s pack transfers to the new alpha. Although he’s an alpha, he has no desire to build his own pack and still submits to me.”
“Okay… so technically, I’m already part of his pack. But since he’s in yours, I am too?”
“Yes.”
“But only informally…” Stiles mused, “Would that be enough to keep me stable and safe? Because, um, no offence, you don’t seem to like me very much.”
“I don’t dislike you. Your best chance would be to seek your current alpha and formally join his pack. But… that isn’t likely to be an option. Eventually you will need to formally join a pack but I suppose you have a little time to decide. I can also help you find a pack in another territory. I have a lot of connections,” she said
“Who’s my alpha?” Stiles asked.
“Hmm… I don’t think he’d want you to know. I’ll inform him and you’ll know if he seeks you out, if you don’t hear from him in a week or so, then you should move onto other options.”
“Um, okay. I’m gonna go and do some thinking, bye!” Stiles said and rushed out.
5
Derek heard running feet and raised his head. From the heartbeat, it was Peter. Of course, it could only be Peter, since Derek was the forgotten pack member.
When Peter got close enough for a proper scenting, Derek’s bones started shifting without thought, grabbing his uncle’s jacket and growling, “Why do you smell like my soulmate?”
“Calm down, nephew,” Peter said completely unbothered by Derek’s show of temper, “That’s what I came to talk about. Now put me down and we can talk over this lovely lunch I brought.”
Derek let go. He was just glad that his uncle wasn’t put off by his ‘uncivilized’ behaviour. Derek hadn’t been angry but he knew it sounded that way. He’d been curious and a little worried. He was still worried. There should be no reason for his mate and Peter to interact closely enough to transfer scent. His emotions were also a little… wonky after killing some random, feral alpha not too long ago.
“The Hale pack has a new beta–” Derek growled wanting Peter to get to the point “–who was bitten by the alpha you killed. This beta’s name is Stiles,” Peter paused. Derek could tell he was doing it for dramatic effect, “Who just so happens to have a triskelion soulmark on his right hand… Which, as you know, is the mark every Hale mate gets and since there is only one currently unmated Hale of age, well…”
“Stiles is a werewolf,” Derek growled.
“Yes.”
“Stiles is a werewolf turned by the alpha I killed,” Derek continued to growl.
“Indeed, dear nephew.”
“Stiles—the soulmate who rejected me is—my beta?” Derek ground out.
“Dearest nephew, I’d like you to know that I’m discretely contacting some trusted magical users to check you for curses,” Peter said and he was fucking telling the truth.
Derek groaned and put his head in his hands, “Why. How is this my life? I’ve done everything right, Uncle Peter. I’ve done nothing to deserve this. To deserve being thrown out by my pack. To come home only to find superficially polite packmates. Did you know that Nora my little sister doesn’t know I’m her brother? How can I still be paying for a mistake I never made! For doing what I’d always been told!” he was breathing heavily by that point and knew his eyes were crimson.
Peter leaned into him and gently rubbed his head under Derek’s chin. It completely derailed Derek’s angry descent into despair. Because… he was acting like a beta comforting his alpha and Derek wasn’t…
Except… his bond to Peter, already the strongest pack bond he had, strengthened and changed. Just a little. And now Derek knew that Peter was his. His beta. Derek still submitted to his mom, so she was still their alpha. But if Derek ever left to form his own pack, Peter would go with him.
“Uncle Peter… why?” Derek was crying because it’d been a really long time since anyone had chosen him. Had wanted him around. Derek had family and a real pack again.
“Did you know you were always my favourite?”
“But you were so mean to us,” Derek said, incredulous.
“In a lot of ways, sweet nephew, I’m not a very nice wolf. It’s why I perform my duties so well. You were my favourite because you were so sweet. Soft too. Your sisters tend to follow after your mom. You are more like your dad. You care about people in a way they don’t. And it’s terrifying, Derek. Because predators—monsters—like me love nothing more than to ruin people like you. I tried to be mean because… it was the only way my fucked up brain thought to prepare you for the world. If you’ve ever wondered why Kate picked you… this is why.
“Not that it was your fault. You did all the right things and don’t deserve this hellish half-life they pushed you into. So, yes, Derek. I happily offer my submission. For all your bitterness and justified anger, that boy I loved so much still exists. And I know that my alpha will be nothing but kind. Strong, too.
“Do you know that I trust you to protect me? I never trusted Talia. She’s a strange contradiction. Trying too hard to be human but also ruthless and cold. She’ll keep the pack strong and safe. If some individuals must suffer for that? It’s a cost worth paying. Watching her turn her own child away—her only son—made it pretty clear that someone like me would be even more disposable. You’d never do that to me, would you?”
Derek has never heard his uncle be so candid about anything ever. Nor has he seen his uncle cry; he’s crying into Derek’s shirt and Derek is comforting him—as alpha and nephew. More than anything else—even gaining the alpha spark—this makes Derek feel strong. No one has wanted or needed anything from him in a really long time. He can feel a fierce determination resolving into something implacable. Derek will respond to his beta’s needs. He will do whatever it takes to be strong enough to protect him.
“No, Uncle Peter, my beta. I would never do that to you or any pack member,” Derek says fiercely and full of promise.
“I still have to deliver your mother’s message about Stiles. She’s aware—the entire pack is now aware—that he’s your mate. They also know he rejected you. She told Stiles that if you didn’t contact him within a week, he should look for a different alpha,” Peter dutifully informed Derek.
“That’s good. I wonder if he’ll end up staying with mom. He can’t be in my pack, obviously. I have to respect his wishes and… it’ll be too hard having him around. Do I have to watch as he tries to date others?” Derek said, heart heavy.
“That might’ve been possible before he turned. He can date but he won’t be able to connect with them. Or have sex. You know how it is with us,” Peter said.
Derek nodded. He still couldn’t be around Stiles. Stiles had wanted to move on with his life and forget they’d ever met.
It was the only thing he’d ever be able to give his mate.
Stiles’ alpha apparently didn’t want him. Not a huge surprise. Few people did. Maybe the only true exception had been his soulmate. There was a thought. But even that wasn’t real. Derek hadn’t wanted Stiles, he hadn’t known Stiles. He’d wanted his soulmate—who happened to be Stiles.
The guy most likely didn’t want him anymore, since Stiles had rejected him. All for the best, in the end. Stiles was now a mythical monster and how do you even explain that?
He’d decided to join the Hale pack. This was his hometown and their territory. It felt right. It was also the path of least resistance and he was okay with that.
When he went back to the house, he bumped into a man named Peter—the pack enforcer—and something about the guy’s scent sent a thrill down his spine. Not… his scent. Another pack member? Stiles was so new that he was terrible and interpreting his senses. The look Peter had sent him, though… chilling and mildly terrifying.
Talia bit him and formally welcomed him into the pack. He was introduced around and scented. That part was pretty awesome. He understood what Talia meant now, really being in the pack settled him in some indefinable but important way.
He got some Werewolf 101 lessons that confused him. Because his pack didn’t act like that with him. They were all cold. Not… unfriendly or unwelcoming but cold and distant. Aloof. From what he’d been told, packs were tactile and usually all up in your shit. From how they interacted with each other, that was true.
Just not with him. Figured he’d settle into a pack where he was being treated like the unwanted relative. He guessed it was because of how he came to join.
Stiles hoped they’d warm up with time.
6
Derek thought it was a funny thing… now that his uncle was around more often—needing time with his alpha and everything—he felt lonely in ways he hadn’t in years. He’d become used to the feeling. To the touch-starvation. And now that it seemed like this might change… his body was thirsty.
For the first time, he was seriously considering turning a beta. His first.
Derek had a startling revelation… at this point, he was isolating himself. Yes, he was the black sheep his family had chosen to sweep under a rug and forget. Yes, his mate had rejected him. But… his uncle had chosen him.
And… he was an alpha now. He could build his own pack. He finally had the power and means to make his life better. A reason to move out of his shack in the woods, become better at human social stuff, and find a few people who needed a pack just as desperately as he did. He could turn them (or not, if they wanted to stay human) and have a new pack.
Betas he could love and trust. Beta’s who only wanted the same. Betas who’d want an alpha uninterested in fighting for territory and showing strength. They’d have to submit to his mom, too. It also meant he couldn’t turn too many. One or two. Nothing that would remotely threaten his mom or force her to assert her dominance. Or start a fight over territory. Hell, she might grant him a small portion under her protection.
Derek thought he might start with one. One single beta who needed pack as much as he did. Leaving the open space for their mate. It would bring the pack up to four, unless his uncle found a mate. Very small, in comparison to the Hale pack as a whole.
Fuck. If he bargained correctly, maybe he could sell the whole thing as being additional protection at a smaller town at the edge of the territory. Almost like an outpost. It would also take him out of Beacon Hills and away from his mate.
A good thing, in Derek’s opinion. It would be really hard to respect Stiles’ wishes if he kept scenting him around town.
Derek must live in Beacon Hills, for some godforsaken reason. Stiles periodically saw him out and about when he came home for the holidays. It wasn’t with any great frequency, just the odd sighting when he was driving down the road.
Once, he’d been close enough that if Stiles hurried and called out, he could’ve talked to Derek. But after the last time… when Derek walked away pretending like he hadn’t heard Stiles, he’d remembered that he’d said they should forget meeting.
It looked like Derek was doing what Stiles had asked. It was good because he didn’t dwell on his soulmate or anything. He’s pretty sure that if he didn’t occasionally spot Derek, Stiles would’ve been able to put him entirely out of his mind.
Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
He could also recognize that… Derek didn’t seem to be doing well. Guy was always alone. Stiles assumed that he’d been going to Berkeley too and had just dropped out after Stiles’ rejection. That kind of sucked.
The man Stiles had sort of met had a trimmed beard, neat hair, and was hotter than anyone he’d ever seen. The Derek he saw around had long, unkempt (but clean) hair. His beard was going full mountain-man. Like… he still looked good, especially since whatever he’d been doing had done a body good.
But there was a… defeated slump to his shoulders.
This was why Stiles really wanted to not see Derek around. It made him feel guilty. Reminded him that by rejecting his soulmate, it left his soulmate without his own. Short of dying, Stiles couldn’t get the man another.
But Stiles wasn’t going to give up his freedom for some man he’d never met. He didn’t owe Derek anything.
7
The Hale pack absolutely did not warm up to him. Over the next year—as he learned how to werewolf—they remained frigid. Stiles couldn’t understand it. He’d tried asking a few times and it was one of the alpha’s daughters that finally gave him a hint.
“I can’t just be imagining this… why is everyone so cold? I haven’t done anything to anyone,” Stiles complained.
“It’s because you rejected your mate,” Cora said, startling Stiles because he’d been wallowing too deep to notice her, “Wow, you’re not a very good werewolf, are you? Then again, I’m not surprised, considering…” She said with an evil smirk.
“My soulmate? That’s what all this has been about? And, hey, rude! I’m a very good werewolf. Sometimes my angst is simply overwhelming,” Stiles sniffed.
“Uh, huh. And, no, it’s about your mate,” Cora emphasized.
“You’re saying that like mate isn’t just your—our— word for soulmate. What am I missing?” Stiles asked, hoping to finally get answers.
“Wolves have mates. Humans have soulmates,” was Cora’s not very helpful answer.
Stiles decided to move onto the important part, “What do they care about my choice to find love that isn’t coerced by fate? It has nothing to do with them!”
Cora shrugs, “Mates are a big deal for us. A wolf who can reject their mate is capable of anything. They’re afraid of you because they think you’re damaged in ways that could be dangerous.”
Stiles sputters, “Wh– This is ridiculous. My dad was destroyed when my mom died. Everyone’s so focused on soulmates, that we don’t think about the other people impacted by it. My mon died but everyone focused on my dad. I had to grow up and start taking care of him because a child grieving for his mom is nothing compared to my dad losing his soulmate. The entire thing is bullshit! So, yeah, when I met my soulmate I told him thanks but, no thanks. That we should forget it happened and move on with our lives. I have. Pretty sure he has too. I just want to find love on my own terms,” Stiles’ flailing arms and ranting voice have the attention of several pack members around the house.
Stiles takes a few deep breaths to calm down and notices some pack members with small children taking them away.
Cora, though, was laughing, “Oh, wow. You’re literally the worst. See how people are taking their kids away? That little speech of yours has just guaranteed that you’ll never be allowed around the children, in case you poison their minds with that shit.”
“But–” Stiles started to sputter.
Cora laughed harder to choke out, “And, shit, you want to find love on your own terms. You poor, poor thing,” she moved to leave and ruffled his hair. It was the most intimate way he’d been scent-marked.
“What? Why are you pitying me?” Stiles begged.
Cora just kept laughing.
All in all, really fucking frustrating.
He was allowed to make his own choices! It shouldn’t be such a big deal that he wanted to fall in love for real, not because of fate. That he also didn’t want to get destroyed when he lost is.
His pack was a bunch of judgemental assholes.
Derek started spending a little more time in town. He was doing it slowly, reacclimating himself with the noise, the smells, and the people. It was hard. It was also a little weird, after a few years, to remember important things about human grooming. Having a beard was okay… having a big bushy beard somewhat less so. He kept his unruly beard for now because he didn’t care and all the hair hiding his face made for fewer lusty scents.
He’ll admit that, in his way, he’s hunting right now. Just… feeling out the town. Looking around. He’s looking for people that usually fade into the background. The lost and lonely. Maybe it sounds predatory in a bad way but he thinks it’s a good way to find someone he can connect with.
More time in town means catching the scent of Stiles every so often. It’s changed now that he’s a wolf. He’d smelled great before but now it’s like a beacon. Like because he’d already belonged to Derek in some fragile, metaphysical way it’s something more now that he’s been turned. Fortunately, his resolve to respect his mate’s wishes is stronger than the pull.
It always would be.
Eventually… he caught the scent of a lonely man. Loneliness wasn’t a scent, exactly. Rather… when you lived with people, had people close to you, echoes of their scents remained. Even it’s been a while, there might be something below consciousness that his brain could sense.
Some people were so alone and been isolated for so long, their scent was entirely their own.
8
“You must be Stiles,” a smooth voice spoke from behind him.
Stiles spun around, heart racing because he was a wolf now and people normally couldn’t sneak up on him, “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of me! What the fuck, dude?”
The man smiled but his eyes were cold. Not the polite chill of the rest of the pack but fucking ice cold, “I’m Peter Hale, the enforcer. You may call me Uncle Peter.”
Stiles shuddered, “Not going to happen, creeperwolf. You are not my uncle.”
“No?” Peter cocked an eyebrow and smirked, “I must’ve been mistaken. My apologies. I thought we’d welcomed you into the family…”
This motherfucker… he was playing games, “I’m in this pack,” Stiles grit out.
“Ah. It’s been a while since we had such… delicious smelling fresh meat,” Peter purred, reaching a hand out to scent mark Stiles.
As creepy as Peter was… something about his scent pulled Stiles in. No, it wasn’t his scent but someone or something he’d come into contact with.
“Okay! Now that I’ve been sufficiently creeped on by the bad-touch uncle, I’m leaving,” Stiles said as he headed for the door. The sound of Peter’s cackling following him out.
It took a few months but he finally caught the scent of a person who might suit. It wasn’t easy. Derek wanted other lonely people. People who needed a pack. But there were a lot of lonely people. People also tried to managed their loneliness in various ways—often ways that were unhealthy or self-destructive. Derek had way too many of his own issues for his first beta to be equally complicated.
But… he’d found a lonely scent that was fresh and clear. The man had no serious vices and that’s all that mattered to Derek. He also wasn’t filled with bitterness and anger, something that would help him as a wolf. He was full of sorrow and Derek understood that a great deal.
Eventually, he just walked up to the man. He was broader and taller than Derek, something of a novelty. Beautifully dark skin.
“I’m Derek.”
The man just watched for a moment, “Boyd.”
Derek tried to remember how humans did this sort of thing, “Nice weather.”
It wasn’t. It was raining but Derek remembered people said things like that.
“Sure. Why have you been following me?” Boyd asked and that made Derek smile a little. He would make the perfect beta.
“I should’ve made some plan before talking to you,” Derek ruefully says, “but that’s not really my thing. I’m an alpha werewolf looking for a new beta. Wanna be part of my pack?”
Derek couldn’t smell any fear and Boyd’s heartbeat raised… but only a little.
“You know I gotta ask…” Boyd trailed off.
Proof. Of course, Derek let his eyes turn crimson and Boyd’s widened in surprise, “I can show you more, somewhere private.”
“Okay. Tell me about this pack thing,” Boyd asked.
Derek did. Explained who he was and about how his mom was the alpha of the territory. That if Boyd became Derek’s beta, he’d submit to her too but he’d always be Derek’s first. Derek had spent too much time alone or with just wolves, he’d forgotten about lying and holding stuff back. So he told Boyd everything. About how he was ostracized for no real reason and he was lonely and wanted a pack. Had spent months looking for the right person—Boyd.
“So this pack will be me and you?” Boyd wondered.
“And my Uncle Peter but he’s also my mom’s enforcer so won’t be around as much,” Derek said.
“Small pack,” he commented.
“Yeah. I might bite another but I want to leave space for your mate. I don’t want a big pack. Just… a few of us to love and comfort each other, you know? I’m not really good with people or wolves these days. Hope it’s not a problem,” Derek says nervously.
“No problem. Just making sure I understand. Why pick me?”
“Your scent. If you take the bite, you’ll find scent becoming your most important sense. I can’t describe it but… your scent tells me that you’re lonely but good. Sad but strong enough to bear it. I figured we could lighten each other’s loads,” Derek tries to explain, finding the right words is hard.
“You know… you’re the first person to notice me in years. In a good way, I mean. This town is pretty white. So a lot of people see a big, Black man and cross the street. Or clutch their purses. But you see some of the real me because, fuck, I am lonely. Feels like I’ve been this way forever. So, yes. I’ll be in your pack,” Boyd told him in a soft voice.
“You can be pack without being turned,” Derek offers.
“Nah. I want the senses. The way you talked about the moon… I want that. The bonds, everything.”
“Can I scent you?” Derek asks.
“Sure. No idea what that means but sure, alpha, scent me,” Boyd says with an easy smile.
Being called alpha by this strong, good man makes Derek feel better and stronger. Already more and he hasn’t even become pack. Derek made the right choice.
Derek cups Boyd’s neck in his hands and runs them down his arms. Leans up a little to nuzzle his throat, rub his beard on his neck. It’s a very intimate way to scent someone.
Boyd is unbothered. Perfect. A lot of human men are uncomfortable with small acts of physical intimacy. He’ll fit right in.
9
Stiles was pretty sure there was no one more bitter than him when he’d learned why mates were so important to wolves.
He couldn’t date anymore. Or, he could but he didn’t really want to. Once he was in control and doing well, he’d wanted to get back to it. Except he wasn’t interested. No one interested him. The worst was trying for no-strings sex. He couldn’t even get hard.
Just… nothing.
Stiles had gone back to ask his alpha about it, since she was the only one who’d really talk to him and that was because she had to.
“So… why can’t I date anymore?” Stiles asked.
“You can’t?” Talia said, her voice placid.
“Well, okay, I can but I don’t really feel like it. No one interests me. Not even the people I was interested in. And I can’t have sex! Is this why people thought werewolves were cursed?”
She gave a light laugh, “No, Stiles. We take mating seriously because once you’ve met your mate, that’s it. We can be with no other until they die, or we do. It’s instinct for us. Even without the mark, our instincts know and that’s it.”
“But… but that’s bullshit!” Stiles cried. Talia’s eyes went crimson and he shut up, “Sorry. I just… I’ve hated this whole soulmate thing my entire life. And now I’m forced into a system that’s even worse?”
“Don’t make me warn you about disrespect again, Stiles. Mates are one of the most treasured and revered parts of our culture. It’s why your beliefs have set you on the periphery of the pack,” Talia said in a stern voice.
“Sorry. Doesn’t it bother you, though, to not have a choice?” Stiles asks.
“Not really. I’ve been remiss in my training if you’re still thinking so much like a human. We are creatures of instinct and magic. Perhaps my conscious mind doesn’t choose in the way you say but my body does. My senses and instincts. A choice is made. Or perhaps it really is just fate. Philosophers have been discussing these questions for thousands of years. Why are you so sure any of your choices are meaningful? Perhaps we in a world where all things are predetermined by previous actions. In any case, you’ve made choices. These are the consequences,” Talia said.
“I didn’t choose to be a werewolf,” Stiles gritted back.
“No. But you chose to reject your mate. And you did it in such a way that there’s no possible recourse going forward. You could’ve chosen to be polite, maybe become friends, or exchange numbers—at the very least. You wanted to choose your own fate, so be it. You slammed that door shut and now there’s only moving forward,” she shrugged.
“I made my bed and now I have to lie in it, huh? Fucking great,” Stiles left after showing his throat. He didn’t need any more trouble that day.
Derek and Boyd were walking around in town, sort of shopping but mostly just taking in the day. It was part of Boyd’s ‘Let’s Work on Derek’s Human Skills’ plan. They were holding hands because they both enjoyed the comfort of having their packmate nearby. It was grounding for Derek and helped him deal with all the scents, noise, and people.
He also just loved having a packmate again. Peter was still good but people in town knew they were related so they couldn’t do this. Also… Peter was still playing like he was still Talia’s beta, since it would cause problems none of them wanted if his change in loyalties were known.
He heard a, “Hey, Derek!” and froze for the smallest moment before continuing to walk. Stiles was downwind so he hadn’t scented his mate first.
“C’mon, Derek! Shit,” Stiles said as he practically fell on his face in front of them.
“Stilinski,” Boyd said in a flat voice.
“Oh, what?” Stiles looked up, “Heyyy, Boyd. And Derek,” his eyes flicked to their hands, “How interesting to see you both… together. That’s… awesome.”
Derek could smell his distress and he had to tense every muscle not to move. Boyd gripped his hand harder.
“You need something?” Boyd said once he realized his alpha probably wasn’t going to speak up.
“I wanted to talk to Derek for a moment. See how he was, you know? But, um, I can see he’s doing fine. I’m totally glad for you, dude,” Stiles smiled a wide and very fake smile, before turning and fleeing.
“That was–” Boyd started.
“Remember, he can still hear you,” Derek murmured.
“Okay. But shit, man.”
“Can we go home now?”
Derek was happy that Boyd was going with him to the ‘cabin’. With Boyd’s help, he was building an actual cabin. It was going to be more of a vacation home than anything else, since he’d talked his plans over with his mom and she’d approved.
Soon, they’d have a little pack home in a small town a couple of hours away.
Derek had moved on. It fucking hurt and Stiles felt like he was dying on the inside. Yeah, okay, Derek was doing exactly what Stiles had said when they’d met…
But it still sucked. Especially since it was impossible for Stiles to move on, if he wanted to have any chance at love or romance or even sex. He’d rejected Derek and the man had gotten together with another just as beautiful—Stiles knew he wasn’t on either man’s level.
Well. Stiles guessed it was time to let go of that dream. He’d always known it could end this way. That his plan to reject his soulmate could mean he ended up alone. Stiles had at least thought he’d have some minor romances and such along the way but, well, this was the bed he’d made.
Time to lie in it.
10
Stiles was… not living his dreams. It’d taken time but he was okay with that now. He’d wanted to do the FBI but becoming a werewolf had made that impossible. The year following he hadn’t done so well at school. Too distracted with his change. It’d also been an object lesson in what it was like to be far from your alpha and… it wasn’t a good feeling, even with how cold she and the rest of the pack were.
Things there… hadn’t changed. Stiles was used to being on the periphery of things. Except this was different. Their distance hurt his soul or some such shit. He’d learned enough by now to know that pack wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Stiles would’ve left, if not for his dad. At least things there were better. Mostly. Stiles didn’t live at home and didn’t have to take care of his dad. Refused to. It helped that as one of his dad’s deputies, the man knew just how busy Stiles was. Because—not wanting even the appearance of nepotism—Stiles got stuck with the graveyard shift. He also got the shit jobs usually forced on rookies, and he’d stopped being one of those years ago.
As a kid, he’d dreamed of being in the FBI and solving crimes. Making a real difference. Now he mostly handed out speeding and parking tickets. He wasn’t sure what else to do. Stiles had—despite the ADHD—been a very goal-oriented person. There were certain things he was going to do and be.
Shift some details and Stiles had succeeded. He was in law enforcement and he’d opted out of the whole soulmate thing.
This didn’t feel like success. He was pretty damn sure he wasn’t winning at life.
After so many bleak years, Derek was pretty content with his life. It was the best he could expect without his mate. It was certainly better than he thought he’d get after Kate.
His little pack was living in one of the smaller towns in Beacon County. Maybe an hour and a half from Beacon Hills. Their beautifully cozy house was set back into the preserve, essentially the opposite end from the main Hale branch. It was only him, Boyd, and Uncle Peter—who’d somehow managed to smooth-talk his way into it.
Peter had said he told Talia that it was for protection. Sure, Derek was an alpha but Peter had been the enforcer and was more experienced in… just about everything. She’d allowed it. Mostly because Peter wasn’t the most liked pack member. The blood on his hands uncomfortably reminded them that they were predators and not humans with some wolf on the side. Peter was contemptuous about the direction Talia was taking the Hales.
The only danger came from forgetting who you are and what you were.
Derek agreed but didn’t care all that much. Their little pack was an oasis of calm. He might go out amongst humans more than he did when hidden away in the forest but… there was still a wildness to him. He also… just didn’t care about passing human. Not when it was easy to excuse a pretty face for being rude.
11
Stiles was happy that he still had a friend. Not Scott… well, okay, Scott was still his friend. They’d always be friends but friends also grew apart. The beginning of that drift was Stiles’ rejection of his soulmate. Scott didn’t understand and it only got worse after he met his soulmate.
Then Stiles had been turned into a damn werewolf and keeping that secret had meant even more distance. Their lives had just moved in different directions. Especially since Scott’s soulmate tended to move around a lot…
Because she was a fucking werewolf hunter. Stiles couldn’t tell Scott why he didn’t like Allison and it got to Scott. At that point… Stiles was ready to let the relationship go. Allison was Scott’s soulmate and their years of friendship would never matter in comparison, even if Stiles was willing to share his secret. Maybe he could’ve, eventually. But not when Scott’s soulmate was an Argent.
When he’d mentioned it to Talia, he’d gotten a quick retelling of the Hale Pack’s history with the Argents. It wasn’t pretty. Talia mentioned how they’d targetted her son as a way to kill them all. The plot had failed, obviously but… it made relations with them even tenser. It was the one topic Stiles had ever seen her more… animal nature showing through. Her control tended to be immaculate.
So yeah. They’d drifted apart and that was okay.
But he’d made a new, awesome friend! Her name was Erica Reyes and she was fucking awesome. Not like Scott at all. She was bitchy and sarcastic and they got along super well. At least once she’d gotten past the crush she had on him.
Erica hadn’t met her soulmate yet and had been interested but Stiles wasn’t—couldn’t be. Annoying because they’d be awesome together.
She was the bright spot in his fairly dismal life.
Derek, Boyd and Peter were sitting in a dinner having some food and coffee when Boyd froze… then took a greedy gulp of air. His packmates watched as the triskelion etched itself onto his right hand.
Boyd was about to meet his mate.
They both smiled and Derek moved out of the booth, so Boyd could get up and greet the hot blonde running at him. She literally jumped into his arms, laughing and crying. It was a beautiful moment.
It was. But both Peter and Derek stiffened at the scent of Stiles on her. They were close, given how entwined the scents were. This was going to create complications. Disrupt the peace they’d had for a few years.
Derek ruefully thought that fate wouldn’t be denied. This was another attempt to throw them together and Derek was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to avoid it this time. He shook those thoughts away, right now was Boyd’s moment and his beta’s happiness was what mattered.
He and Peter congratulated Erica and they invited her to sit with them.
“Erica, these are my two best friends, Derek and Peter,” Boyd introduced as they sat down.
“Wow, I’m meeting my soulmate and his friends in one go. Throw in the parents and we’d be getting it done in one shot,” Erica said with a cheeky smile.
Boyd’s smile dimmed a little, “My mom isn’t around. These two are the only family I have.”
Derek could tell Erica would be good for Boyd when she responded with, “Then I really am getting it all done in one go. Fantastic. Now I can focus on getting to know you without stressing about the other stuff.”
“So, darling, tell us a little about yourself,” Peter drawled.
She squinted at him, “You’re a little creepy, aren’t you?”
Peter pouted, “I’m handsome and debonair, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m only willing to concede on one of those points,” Erica winked, “Let’s see… I live in Beacon Hills. I don’t work because I have severe epilepsy and pretty much everything is too dangerous for me. But I’m super into knitting and have a little etsy store for some pocket change.”
Derek already loved her, she would make a fierce wolf. He was pretty sure she’d want the bite.
“Your turn,” she looked at Boyd.
“Well… I’m an accountant and a werewolf, so not completely boring,” Boyd smiled.
Derek reached out and squeezed the back of Boyd’s neck, communicating his support and pride. Better to get that important detail out right away. Plus, she was his mate and seemed enthusiastic about it.
Erica’s eyes narrowed. Looked at Derek’s hand on Boyd’s neck, “You’re telling the truth. I’ll wait for proof–” Boyd quickly flashed his eyes “–or not. Well, fuck. That’s awesome. Does this mean a lot of very enthusiastic and athletic sex? Because I’d be into that but… probably not able,” Erica looked uncertain for the first time.
“As Boyd’s mate, bringing you into the pack will be a formality. I’d be happy to turn you, if you want to be a werewolf. There’s a small chance it could kill you but that’s rare. We have advanced healing and it’ll cure your epilepsy,” Derek saw Erica about to eagerly agree, “Before you say yes, we need to discuss some more details, so you know everything before making a decision.”
She nodded, “That’s great. But seriously. I always knew meeting my soulmate was going to be one of the best days of my life but this is surpassing all of my dreams,” Erica sniffled a little as a tear ran down her face, “Fuck. I hate crying. So how about we blow this popsicle stand and you tell me what I need to know. Because I was ready five minutes ago to say ‘yes’.”
Derek smiled gently and nodded. They all got up to head to the den.
12
Stiles had his face pressed up against Erica before he knew what he was even doing. She smelled… like a motherfucking werewolf. She was a motherfucking werewolf. But there was the scent of another on her and, god, it was like every good thing condensed into a single heavenly scent.
“Erica! When were you turned? Was it consensual? Do you have a pack? Who does that scent belong to?” Stiles demanded as soon as she came into his apartment.
“Don’t you start on me, Stilinski. How long have you been a werewolf? When were you gonna tell me, huh?” Erica pointed her finger, sharp claw extended, at him.
“Was it consensual?” Stiles demanded.
“God, yes! Answer my questions!”
Stiles sagged in relief, “If it was consensual then you know why I didn’t tell you. Sure, we’re best friends but… it’s dangerous, you know?”
She also sagged, “Yeah. I know. What’s your story?”
“I got bit by some rogue alpha and the Hale pack took me in,” he said, “Who bit you? Who’s your pack? The Hales? ‘Cause this is our territory.”
“Sort of? It started with meeting my mate in that town, just before you leave the county. Turns out he’s a werewolf and his best friend is his alpha, it’s either him or Boyd you’re scenting. They basically took me back to their den and turned me. Goodbye, epilepsy!” She finished with a grin.
“There’s an alpha living there on Hale territory?” Stiles asked with a puzzled frown.
“Yeah. He is part of the Hale pack. Like, the alpha’s son. He doesn’t want the territory or one of his own, so they have a little sub-pack and keep an eye on the border.”
“Talia’s son…” Stiles trailed off trying to remember exactly what she’d said about her son and the Argents. The way she’d phrased it, Stiles thought he’d been killed. Because he’d only met her daughters. And no one talked about him. It made sense, in a way, if he had his own little pack, “I thought he died but I guess not. I haven’t met him and no one ever talks about him. I think he’s like the black sheep of the family. Black wolf? Whatever.”
“He said something similar. Told me about what they did to him. Fucked up and I’m glad I’m in his pack and not Talia’s. She’s some kind of stone-cold bitch. I know I have to play nice and submit when I meet her but fuck… I’d like to slap her,” Erica said eyes flashing and growling by the end.
Stiles was shocked. Because everyone in the pack respected Talia. But he got distracted by a thought, “Fuck. You’re moving away.”
“Oh, Stiles,” Erica put her hand over his, “We’re packmates and I’m not going to ditch you.”
Stiles had stopped listening. He looked at Erica’s soulmark. It was a triskelion, just like his. Soulmarks were supposed to be unique.
“Erica… why do we have the same soulmark?” Stiles asked.
She looked down at his hand, “Oh! It’s pack thing. This is the soulmark of every Hale wolf. They’re a strong family line, so even if their mate is another wolf, this is the soulmark they get. If their mate is a human, the same,” her tone was cheery but Stiles’ head was buzzing with dread.
“I met my mate when I was human, Erica,” Stiles said, “The rest of the pack doesn’t like me because I rejected my mate. I didn’t know he was a wolf or a fucking Hale. I wonder if they know and that’s why they barely tolerate me. I can’t fucking date people because mates are it for us. That means when I rejected Derek, I condemned him to a lifetime of fucking loneliness.”
Erica pulled her hand out of his, “You rejected my alpha!”
Stiles closed his eyes, “Of course. Derek is your alpha. Fuck. This is such a mess.”
“I– I can’t be around you right now. I was just turned and my control isn’t the best. I feel like clawing your eyes out for what you did to my alpha,” Erica said with strain, clearly fighting her instincts. She was gone in a blink.
Leaving Stiles alone to wallow in misery.
Having had time to think about things, Stiles had some questions for his alpha. He was sitting in her office, fidgeting anxiously, “I know you’ve seen my soulmark. Did you know that Derek—your son—was my mate? Does the whole pack know? Is this why everyone has been so cold?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“You rejected him. You often speak about wanting to make your own choices. We were respecting that, even if none of us liked it. Or you. But we were also respecting his choice,” she shrugged.
She caught him in a neat and tidy trap. He couldn’t be mad at them for respecting his choices.
“Wait, his choices?” Stiles asked.
“Yes. His only desire was to respect yours. I believe you said you wanted to forget the whole thing and move on with your life? It was the only thing he could give you.”
“But… I’m it for him. He let go that easily?”
Her eyes went crimson, “You think it was easy? To ignore his instincts and walk away from his chance at happiness? You are his mate Stiles. We wolves, from the moment we meet our mate, all we want is them to be happy. Perhaps in that respect, it was easy. If I had to chose between my own happiness and my mate’s? I’d gladly sacrifice my own.”
Stiles understood… to an extent. But not entirely. He’d met Derek. He wasn’t feeling any particular drive to make him happy. Then again… he’d met Derek as a human. Perhaps now that he was a wolf, he’d feel different if they saw each other again.
“Now, go away. I’ve had enough of this discussion. You know, I let you into the pack because I saw your mark and realized that you were my only son’s mate. I still wonder about that decision. Perhaps it would’ve been better for you to join another.”
“Oh, my god. Derek was my alpha. For a week, yeah, but he was. I can’t even. I don’t kn–”
“Out, Stiles,” she growled, all alpha command.
He left to have his existential crisis somewhere else.
13
Derek’s not happy that Stiles’ rejection is causing problems with his newest beta. She and Stiles are best friends and she’d like them to all get along. Derek wants to, for her, but he can only respect Stiles’ wishes. He has told her, though, that he doesn’t hate Stiles. Holds no enmity for the man. She’s welcome to invite him to whatever, but he can’t come to the den since that’s for pack only.
While Stiles is technically pack, he’s also very much not. That’s part of what makes Erica tense. Everyone in Derek’s pack—him included—submit to his mom, so they are one whole pack. But the bonds are… weak between Derek’s betas and his mom, thus the rest of the pack too. It’s instinctual and hard to put into words, something he can tell frustrates Erica.
After a few full moons, her instincts finally settle down enough for her birthday party. She obviously wants her best friend and her pack to all come. Derek wants her to be happy, so he’s going.
Derek is looking at himself in the mirror. It’s been a really long time since he studied and looked at his reflection. He looks older but… not as defeated and sad as before. His face isn’t as gaunt as when he was living in the forest, not that Derek’s lost any muscle mass. Still big. He wonders if he should shave or trim his beard, only to shrug since he has no one to impress. It only feels that way because he’ll be around his mate for the first time in years.
He’s happy that he only has three kinds of shirts in about two colours. Derek doesn’t have to think as he puts on a grey henley, pulls on some black jeans, laces up his boots, and shrugs on his jacket.
Derek takes a moment to centre himself at the door. A few deep breaths in and out. He’s inclined to just ignore Stiles entirely, feeling like it meets with his wish but doesn’t want to make it awkward for Erica. Then again, he’s not really known for being chatty. Derek decides he’ll follow Stiles’ lead. Ready to be polite and cordial.
At the restaurant Erica picked, he’s a little late but he’s glad that Peter saved a seat to ensure that he’s neither beside nor directly across from Stiles, “Thanks, Uncle Peter,” he quietly says as he sits. Peter just runs a hand down his back, scent-marking and comfort.
“Since everyone knows each other but Stiles, I’ll just introduce them,” Erica says, looking at Stiles gesturing at each in turn, “This is Peter, my mate, Boyd, and my alpha, Derek. Everyone, this is Stiles, my best friend!”
Derek had told everyone to be friendly, so everyone greets him about as warmly as Derek could hope.
“Oh, I definitely remember Creepy Uncle Peter,” Stiles said.
Peter shrugged, “I honestly can’t remember but I’m sure you were charmed.”
Things go pretty well, all things considering. A few times, Stiles tries to engage him but one of his pack ends up intercepting it each time. Derek’s amused at their determination to protect him, even if he doesn’t need it. Still… being able to sit here—listening to Stiles’ heart and breathing in his scent—is a gift he never thought he’d get, so Derek has a good time.
He’s used to the ache and pain of loneliness. Of the longing he feels for his mate. It’s a constant companion that seems just a little more distant tonight.
Stiles watches as Derek gets up to use the washroom, when he turns back to the table Peter’s eyes are the same icy blue as when they’d met. He can tell Boyd’s being friendly because of Erica but scent doesn’t lie.
“It would probably be best, sweetheart, if you stopped trying to engage my dear nephew,” Peter says, “He asked me to be nice because he cares about Erica but that only applies so long as you aren’t a threat. As far as I’m concerned, if something… unfortunate happened to you, it’d open the possibility of Derek getting a new mate.”
Stiles had been expecting hostility but an outright death threat? He supposes he can’t be surprised that bad-touch Uncle Peter is the one doing it.
“Peter…” Erica started.
“No, it’s okay,” Stiles sighed, “I understand. I’ll stop. I don’t want to make things awkward or hard for you, Erica.”
“I appreciate that, I do. Do you think it’d help if you two talked?” Erica asked. Peter growled but she glared at him.
“I honestly don’t know. I was so young and stupid when we met. I handled the entire situation so badly. I still stand by my beliefs but, fuck, I could’ve been so much kinder about the entire thing, I was such a fucking asshole about it,” Stiles says. It’s the most he’s ever said to anyone about it. But… why the fuck not?
Peter snorts contemptuously but quiets with everyone else as the presence of the alpha approaches. It doesn’t mean much, since Derek probably heard them from the washroom.
14
Derek wished he could be surprised to hear Stiles’ heartbeat outside of the den. He wasn’t. He opened the door and stepped out, “You want to get a coffee?” Even though Stiles was his mate, he wasn’t pack and Derek didn’t want his scent in the den.
It would be a special kind of torture.
Stiles just nodded and they got in their cars, Stiles following Derek to the coffee shop in town.
They sat down and Derek waited. It was Stiles’ show after all.
“So… Erica. She’s your beta and my best friend,” Stiles began and Derek nodded, “And we need to, I don’t know, figure something out because she’s also my only friend and I don’t want to lose her, you know?”
Derek nodded again.
There was a long pause, then Stiles started talking when he realized Derek wasn’t going to say anything, “Wow, you don’t make it easy. We’re not going to get anywhere if you won’t talk to me.”
Derek sighed, “You asked me to forget meeting you and move on with my life. I’m trying to respect your wishes.”
“Okay… so, what? You want me to introduce myself again? No, wait, Erica introduced us. Should we act like that’s our first meeting? Forget about the mate thing and act like acquaintances?” Stiles rambled.
“We can’t really forget about the ‘mate’ thing, all things considered,” Derek said, “But haven’t I been civil?”
“I guess, you don’t find this awkward?”
“No.”
Stiles sat back and huffed out a sigh.
Derek wasn’t quite sure what Stiles wanted from this, so he decided to just ask, “I don’t know what you want from me. I want Erica to be happy and that includes you. I’ve been as nice as I can, based on what you said you wanted.”
“That’s true. I guess it was mostly your—our—pack being shitty. I didn’t know you were a Hale or that we were in the same pack until you turned Erica. For years now my pack has been cold and not very pack-like and I never knew why. Apparently it’s because I rejected you, the alpha’s son. I’m tired of being punished for a choice I should be allowed to make,” Stiles said and he sounded exhausted, “I was never great at making friends. I can’t date or have sex. My pack—who should be like family—ostracizes me. I’m tired of feeling so fucking lonely. Erica’s the only friend I have and I know she’ll choose her alpha, if it comes to that.”
“It won’t. I can’t help how other people feel or treat you and it’s not really my problem. I’ve never talked badly about you. All I’ve ever done is respect your decision. You’re not the only one who lives with the consequences. I know being lonely is fucking hard,” Derek told Stiles.
Stiles scoffs, “Really. You, at least, have a pack that loves you. What the fuck do you know about it?”
Derek looks at Stiles for a long, long moment. He’s trying to decide if he should explain. But Stiles is a stranger and Derek knows better than to make himself vulnerable to strangers. Especially one so capable of hurting him. He stands, “We aren’t friends. We aren’t anything to each other. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you whine about the consequences of your choices or take digs at me. You don’t know me. That was your choice.
“Honestly, if you’re alone after all these years, it’s probably because you’re a selfish asshole and not because you’re being persecuted for your beliefs or decisions or whatever the fuck. The first and only time you seek me out after rejecting me, is because you don’t want to lose your best friend.
“All this time, I’ve wondered ‘what if?’. Before we met, I spent years dreaming about meeting my mate. I’m glad things worked out the way they did. The state I was in when we met… you would’ve consumed me. I would’ve been so fucking grateful to have you and so desperately afraid to lose you that I would’ve torn myself to pieces, just so I shape myself into exactly what you needed and wanted. And you wouldn’t have noticed or cared, considering how little you think of anyone but yourself.
“I want Erica to be happy. If that includes you, then she’ll always have my support and I won’t give her reason to stop being your friend. I’ll accord you the same respect and courtesy I would to any of her friends. The rest is up to you,” Derek turned and left.
Stiles was… angry. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was at himself or Derek. Well, okay, he was definitely mad at Derek but… maybe not only at Derek. Stiles didn’t think he was all that selfish, like Derek said.
But…
Stiles liked to insist that he should be allowed to make his own choices, so it was pretty shitty of him to bitch about the choices everyone else made. Not wanting to do the whole soulmate thing and wanting to find love on his own? His choice. What everyone else thought about it and how they treated him? Their choice.
Stiles shouldn’t blame them for choosing to show their disapproval over his choices—except he totally did because they didn’t need to be abusive dickbags about it. It was aggravating because it felt like he was being pressured to make different choices. But… Stiles wasn’t the sort of person who cared about pleasing other people. He wasn’t going to change to make them happy.
He paused–
Did not caring—at all—about pleasing other people make him selfish? Maybe. Stiles couldn’t deny that he put himself first in his life. He’d had to since no one else did—not since his mom died. For so long he’d felt like he’d always had to put his dad first. Maybe that would’ve been fine if his dad had put him first but he hadn’t.
Stiles wasn’t stupid. He could see the connections between his experiences growing up and his current behaviour. He wanted to live for himself. And he was…
The problem, Stiles thought, was that it wasn’t making him happy. Sure, he’d known his choices could mean that he’d be alone—but that was before he was a werewolf. Stiles had anticipated maybe having a few romances here and there. Some casual sex. He couldn’t do any of that. He wasn’t great at making friends. He’d purposefully distanced himself from his dad.
It was a level of ‘alone’ that he hadn’t anticipated. And he knew that if something didn’t change, he’d lose the only friend he had. At this point in his life, he had fewer chances to meet people. Fuck, Stiles barely had the motivation to try. He was a werewolf and had a pack that should’ve been what he needed—except he’d rejected his mate and broken a wolf taboo. That’s not even considering that it was the alpha’s son he’d rejected.
Stiles wasn’t willing to change to suit other people. But he thought that maybe it was time to change for himself. He was currently living his life according to ideas and principles he’d had as a kid—watching his dad self-destruct over his mom. Maybe it was time to move past that and look to the future, instead of being confined by his past.
He wanted to make his own choices.
Stiles could choose this—choose change. Give himself a chance for a happier life. Because, fuck, this wasn’t the life he wanted to live and unless he expected the world and everyone in it to mould themselves around him and his choices—be as selfish as Derek thought he was—then the only way for it to change was if he did.
So he would.
15
Time passes as it always does. Derek’s happy that after his talk with Stiles things don’t get more awkward. He’s always tried to accept Stiles’ decision with as much grace he can muster. For the most part, he doesn’t talk about Stiles. His family only knows that he was rejected and nothing else.
At the time, Derek had thought he’d deserved it. It was almost expected, in a way, given that his pack and family found it easy enough to toss him away. These days, it’s more of an old ache. Hurts every fucking day but he’s become used to it, as much as anyone can.
Still… he’s surprised. Pleasantly so. Even with Erica, his path doesn’t cross Stiles’ all that much. He isn’t welcome in the den and Derek doesn’t do much socializing—not even with his betas (at least not outside of the den). When they do exist in the same space, it’s cordial and distant.
All he cares about is that Erica’s happy—that she’s not feeling pulled in two different directions.
Even though they don’t spend a lot of time together, Stiles hears about Derek from Erica. He also gets glimpses of the wolf the few times their paths do cross and… Derek’s amazing. Like truly fucking amazing. Whenever Erica describes her life and experiences with the pack, it sounds like everything Stiles has ever wanted—what he thought he’d get with the Hale pack.
Stiles finds himself craving to know more about Derek. Erica never says much—the only details she’s willing to share are fairly mundane. Stiles never asks or presses for more. Before—always before—he would’ve. He wants to but refuses to alienate his only friend over this.
It doesn’t matter because the things he hears…
Derek sounds like the softest, fluffiest alpha ever and after the life of alienation and loneliness Stiles has lived…
He yearns.
As he does so, he works on letting go of his bitterness. Of the regret.
It’s an interesting balance because he still thinks he’s right to believe what he believes. Right to want a choice. But he can also recognize that he made more than one choice that day. He’d made choices he hadn’t thought about and hadn’t intended.
Stiles hadn’t owed Derek anything, not his time or attention. But…
Even if it wasn’t owed he could’ve been kind. Gentle. Being one of the most pivotal moments of his life, he remembers everything about it. About the words and tone he’d used.
There are a lot of different ways to say ’no’ and not all of them are cruel. Perhaps they all hurt—Stiles doesn’t think he’d have been able to avoid hurting Derek. But he’d also been needlessly cruel to someone who’d done nothing to deserve it—other than being Stiles’ soulmate.
As much as Stiles yearns for the alpha and pack he hears Erica describe, he’s still not sure about the soulmate aspect.
The only thing he’s sure about—at this point—is that he wants to let go of the bitterness and anger. He’s tired. Maybe he’ll never have the alpha and pack he wants but that doesn’t mean he can’t try and find a little peace and contentment on his own.
He doesn’t owe it to the world or anyone else but he finally thinks he owes it to himself.
16
Derek isn’t sure what, exactly, has changed about Stiles but his scent is lighter, sweeter. It’s incredibly distracting. His body is hardwired to like Stiles’ scent but the more bitter, acrid tones dimmed his enjoyment.
Now it feels like it’s trying to pull Derek in just a little closer. He can almost feel his toes and fingers twitching. Wanting to move in his direction, reach out and scent mark.
Derek doesn’t. It’s not his place. He doesn’t want it to be his place. Mostly.
It’s a strange feeling, though. While it’d never stopped hurting, he’d grown used to the ache. To the hollow place where his mate should be. The changes in Stiles’ scent sharpen his awareness of that emptiness. Of the absence.
Not in a bad way, though. All Derek has wanted for Stiles is that he be happy, Derek feels that maybe he’s heading in that direction and that settles something in Derek. Just a little.
But his pack notices and he’s grateful for that. They’ve always been close, each of them needing pack for much the same reasons. It’s one of the reasons why they’re strong, even if they’re small. They have strong bonds.
Strong enough that even this small, incremental change has all of them feeling happier and lighter, just because their alpha is feeling that way.
And wasn’t that a surprise? He’d known they were close. But the part of him that remembers being abandoned and forgotten by his pack has always doubted. Always whispered that he needed them more than they did him. That they’d leave.
That part is getting quieter. Diminishing. His pack is so obviously invested in his happiness that Derek finds himself finally letting go of that fear. It only makes him happier, which is reflected by his betas, creating a beautiful feedback loop.
Bit by bit, Stiles finds his life getting a little brighter. He breathes just a little easier.
On the surface, not much has changed. He still has a fairly cold and indifferent pack. Still only has one friend.
But without a haze of bitter anger, he finds that there are a lot more people around him willing to have a friendly chat. People he can smile to on the street who’ll smile back. He learns that a little bit of kindness given here and there will brighten his day.
Perhaps more than anything else, finding joy in giving surprises him. He thinks the years he spent being forced to care for his dad made him resent giving. He’d started doing things around the house because he wanted to help. And he’d enjoyed the praise and appreciation he’d gotten from his dad—at least after he sobered up. Then it sort of just became… expected. He found himself having to do the bulk of the chores and cooking… all while trying to struggle his way through school.
It makes it easier to assess his current life. He’s always exhausted from working graveyards. Shifts he works because his dad is so afraid of looking like he’s favouring Stiles that he’s swung to the opposite extreme. He’s… tired. Not just of the hours but of the job.
Stiles is finally able to admit it to himself: he hates being in law enforcement. He has eyes and pays attention to the news. Before joining, he probably would’ve felt defensive about Black Lives Matter—his dad was a good cop, after all. But what does that even mean when the entire system is fucked?
Nothing.
And Stiles is realizing that he doesn’t want to be a part of this anymore.
Quitting feels like freedom. His dad hadn’t understood, Stiles didn’t care.
The extra sleep was very nice.
17
A year or so after their lives intersected (again), Derek and Stiles bump into each other at a coffee shop.
Literally bump into each other, since neither was paying attention—despite both being werewolves.
“Um… hey,” Stiles says, feeling a little silly.
Derek gives him a wide, sunshine smile, “Hi.”
The moment stretches as they both relive a memory of this exact scene playing out years in the past.
Stiles swallows and says, “It’s great to see you, Derek. You look good—happy,” he tentatively smiles, feeling nothing but genuine pleasure at seeing Derek smile so brightly.
(Stiles’ heart is racing and he doesn’t even know why. This isn’t the first time they’ve bumped into each other. Not the first time they’ve talked alone. And yet…)
“You smell good,” Derek says before lightly blushing, “Um, I mean, you look happier, too.”
(Derek hasn’t felt this tongue-tied in years. Words have never been his thing but he’s old enough and had enough practice that he usually doesn’t blurt something that non-human.)
A long moment pauses where they both just smile and looking into each other’s eyes.
“So, um, join me for coffee?” Stiles asks, a hopeful gleam shining in his eyes.
Derek’s smile and eyes go soft, he finds himself nodding before he really processes the words—responding more to Stiles’ scent and heartbeat. Even after the words sink in, he turns towards an empty table.
Here. Right now.
This feels right.
(They both feel a slow, blossom of hope growing in their hearts.)
Coffee with Derek was… amazing. It had only been an hour and Stiles hates that he understands why the universe shoved them together. He can already tell that they fit.
The thing he’s not sure about is if they’d have fit when they first met. Derek had said a while back that he probably would’ve torn himself apart trying to mould himself into whatever he thought Stiles wanted.
Stiles finally understands how, even if he hadn’t acted the way he did, he hadn’t been ready for the kind of relationship implied by soulmarks. He doesn’t know what Derek’s story is… but it’s obvious there is a story. A not-so-happy story.
As much as Stiles had liked to think that he had been mature and grown-up back then—if only because of his mom’s death and how he’d needed to take care of his dad—he hadn’t been emotionally mature enough to handle Derek’s baggage and his own. Not when it’d taken Derek’s harsh words for Stiles to acknowledge it even existed.
Stiles can admit that he’s… stubborn. And that he doesn’t lack for conviction. The problem, he thinks, was that he hadn’t been wrong. He just hadn’t been entirely right, either. Or how he handled it had been… suboptimal.
He thinks the Hale pack is a bunch of judgemental asses for never really talking to him about it. He figures their harsh and cold judgement has a lot to do with why Derek isn’t really in the pack.
Stiles has a feeling that without this common ground, he’d’ve been hard-pressed to empathize with Derek—because Stiles, in his own way, could be just as harsh and unyielding in his own judgements.
So… no. Stiles doesn’t think the universe was wrong, exactly, but the timing hadn’t been right.
Soulmates are great and everything but if neither of them had been in the right headspace to nurture a healthy relationship? Disaster. Utter ruin.
While Stiles can’t say that it would’ve been better than how things worked out—for all he knows, they could’ve healed and grown together—he thinks that trying now is going to give them the best chance of building something epic and awesome.
18
It’s only been a few months since he and Stiles started… Derek isn’t sure what to call it. They aren’t dating. That was something they’d actually discussed. They both felt that taking things slow and just getting to know each other was the best approach, all things considered.
But it definitely wasn’t just friends. Derek knew that some soulmates were friends—close and intimate friends—but it didn’t feel like that.
For once, not being great with words felt like a good thing because Derek honestly didn’t care if what they were doing had a name. The label didn’t matter.
What mattered was that he was finally getting to know his mate and it was good. Stiles was bright and funny—and so very pretty and his scent…
He was also much kinder and compassionate than Derek had been expecting. Stiles was noticeably different than when he’d come back into Derek’s life. He didn’t care so much about that; he cared that Stiles seemed happier.
For all that they were taking things slow… Derek couldn’t say that they were keeping things ’light’. It would be foolish and a waste of time to pretend like they were just two strangers meeting for the first time. They talked a lot about their lives, past, and the sort of heavy stuff Derek rarely shared outside of the pack.
Stiles was just so easy to open up to; he repaid Derek’s confidence and trust with the same. And that was a gift Derek would always treasure. While Stiles hadn’t owed him an explanation for why he’d initially rejected Derek, that didn’t stop him from feeling grateful for getting one anyway. That was another gift Derek treasured.
He was less pleased with ‘his’ pack—his mom’s pack, really, since they hadn’t truly been his pack from the moment they sent him away. Derek hated that this was an experience he and Stiles shared. Pack was supposed to be a good thing. It was part of why Derek had been slowly pulling Stiles into his, despite them not mating or even being close to it.
Derek didn’t care—much—if they ever mated. He was less desperate for it now that he had a great pack. He’d be happy simply having Stiles in his life and his pack as a beta. Derek didn’t need a mate to be happy, that was something he’d learned over the past few years.
A hard but necessary lesson.
The bigger problem, as far as he was concerned, was what to do about his mom’s pack. When he’d first become an alpha, he hadn’t cared much about establishing his own territory. He still didn’t but… Derek didn’t think he could be—no matter how tenuous—affiliated with a pack like his mom’s.
Derek understood that her conviction had let her build and maintain a large, strong, and respected pack. He just didn’t want that for himself or his pack. Given his general disinterest in having a territory, Derek thought he might get away with having one too small for most to bother challenging him for it. The last thing he wanted was to defend territory—it’d require building his pack up in ways more like his mom. It was the primary reason why he’d stayed.
But he knew there were going to be problems soon because Derek was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to submit to his mom much longer. Not when he’d lost so much respect for her.
Stiles was nervously sitting in Derek’s den. With his pack. The last time they’d all been together hadn’t been the most fun. But Derek had invited him, so at least he knew he belonged.
When everyone was settled, Derek began speaking, “Stiles, we’ve decided to formally offer you a place in our pack.”
His breath wooshed out of his body in surprise because Stiles had not been expecting this, “Really? All of you?” he looked around.
Everyone looked grim but their scents weren’t conveying anything negative. Stiles was pretty sure they were trying to make him sweat because they were assholes. His kind of asshole but still assholes.
Derek was the only one giving him a soft, gentle smile. Until he looked around and saw everyone’s faces, then he grunted, “Seriously?” and the rest of the pack stopped fronting and smiled.
What really got to Stiles was that their smiles were warm and genuine. It was about a million degrees warmer and more welcoming than his current pack and it made his instincts buzz with something bright and pleasant.
“I, um, I’d be honoured, Alpha Hale,” Stiles said formally, as slid to the floor to kneel, neck bared.
Derek’s grin got sunshine bright and he placed one hand on the side of Stiles’ neck as he bent over the other side. The contact had his skin tingling—this was the most intimate they’d ever touched. Derek’s breath on his throat… his scent surrounding Stiles… it was overwhelming and beautiful.
Stiles felt the lightest, gentlest pricks of sharp, deadly fangs before the warmest glow began pulsing somewhere inside of his… soul? It didn’t matter. It took Stiles a moment to realize that the pulses matched Derek’s heartbeat and, yup, Stiles was crying.
This is what he’d hoped pack would be…
Derek’s warm hand cupped his face and a thumb gently brushed a tear away. They looked into each other’s eyes and Derek’s flared, Stiles’ flashing in response. Stiles nuzzled his palm. And then found himself jerked to his feet as the other betas started scent marking him.
It was the happiest Stiles could remember being in the longest time.
19
With Stiles officially part of the pack, he and Erica moved into the den. Having his entire pack under one roof was a great feeling and gave Derek a sense of peace and home he hadn’t had in a very long time…
Not since Kate.
She felt like a distant memory almost. Derek didn’t think he’d ever be entirely free of that event and its fallout but he thinks he’s healed enough. Maybe even healed entirely. Scars, after all, were wounds that had healed. They left a mark, one that might stretch and pull, but the injury was gone and healed.
Derek was surprisingly happy that getting to this point hadn’t involved being romantically and sexually involved with his mate—with Stiles. Having a solid, complete pack—one that included his mate—felt like the final step he needed to heal.
He thinks Stiles also needs the pack to heal but it isn’t his final step. Derek finds he’s a lot more concerned with Stiles healing and being happy than romance or sex. Perhaps once Stiles has had time to settle into the pack and feels ready, they’ll grow into more.
Or maybe they’ll grow into more simply as time goes on. Either way is okay.
Which is the most amazing thing…
Everything is okay.
Better than okay, even. Derek feels happy.
He wonders if this is what having your dreams come true feels like.
Moving into the packhouse came with a few surprises. Erica and Boyd were mates, yes, but they didn’t sleep in the same bed. Turned out that Erica didn’t like sleeping in the same bed with other people—she’d do pack piles once in a while but preferred her space.
Stiles knows now that he’d been mistaken about Boyd and Derek being together when he’d seen them holding hands but he hadn’t expected that they slept in the same bed—not that Stiles had thought he’d immediately be sleeping with Derek. They weren’t there yet and it felt like… something important. Derek had made it clear that he—and the rest of the pack—were always welcome to sleep or cuddle with him and Stiles happily crawled into bed with him and Boyd when he felt like it.
No, he was left wondering about Peter. He knew Erica chose to sleep alone but didn’t know if Peter was the same. From his time in the main Hale pack, he knew that Peter had been on the fringes—just like Stiles. It made Stiles wonder if he craved the same closeness but had stopped reaching out after years of being rebuffed.
So Stiles waited until they could talk alone and asked. Turned out that Peter did crave the same closeness and, well, Stiles decided that this was something he could do. Sure, he needed it for himself but… this helped him feel like he was contributing to the pack’s welfare, instead of just taking. Something that would’ve been okay but Stiles had been raised to think taking without giving was wrong. He was still unlearning human stuff like that—since it had no place in a pack.
Peter was… surprisingly cuddly. And, in a lot of ways, a kindred soul. He and Stiles happily traded barbs and trivia like old friends. It was honestly pretty great. Peter was also the best person to talk about his experiences in his old pack. Having someone who understood, well, it helped a lot.
It’d taken too much hurt and time to reach this place. Or perhaps it’d taken the exact amount of time needed. Stiles doesn’t particularly care.
He has his mate, a pack he can heal and grow with, and it’s enough.
It’s good.
He’d made the choices he’d made. He’d learned to grow and make different choices. Stiles appreciates that Derek—of all people—was the one person who respected that the most. Because for all the pain it’d caused, at least Stiles can still respect himself.
Stiles doesn’t know if he’d be able to recover if he’d lost that. As it stands… he knows he’ll eventually get to happy.
Knows he’s already on his way.
Epilogue
Derek has his head in Stiles’ lap and he’s looking up, a little in awe at how handsome Stiles is. He’s not classically attractive in the way Derek knows people think he is, it’s a complex beauty, one that you learn to appreciate more and more with time. He doesn’t notice his hand lifting to gentle touch Stiles’ adorable nose.
“Did you just boop me on the nose?” Stiles asks incredulous but smiling down at Derek, eyes crinkled at the corner and luminous in the light.
Derek can feel his lips curling, helpless in the weight of the moment. A weight that isn’t heavy but light. He feels buoyant and, “I love you,” slips past his lips. There’s nothing he wants to say more, the feeling is all-encompassing.
It’s been a few years since Stiles joined the pack and moved into the den. Years of strengthening bonds and getting to know his mate. Figuring out how they fit together. They’re both careful to spend time alone—not dating exactly but doing something.
Building something.
Possibly building to this moment where his love for Stiles feels solid and real. Where it feels right and good. When he doesn’t have to question if this is the right time because it is the right time. Perhaps the only time.
A time when he isn’t even unconsciously thinking about their first meeting. That too, is a scar. Derek’s not sure when it got that way—it doesn’t matter.
What matters is the way Stiles’ eyes have gone soft and warm. The scent of him is indescribable and it fills Derek’s world.
“And I love you, my sweet mate-wolf,” Stiles returns.
Derek laughs because Stiles and his nicknames are ridiculous and the joy Derek feels has to be released somehow.
Stiles laughs with him.
Leans down to lay a gentle kiss on Derek’s forehead.
Another softly dropped onto his lips.
Derek closes his eyes—inhales the scent he’ll always associate with joy and love—and kisses Stiles back.