Neighbours Derek remembers the first time he scented Stiles. The house down the lane had been empty for a while. As much as werewolves were known and there was peace between them and humans, most humans didn’t want to rent a house on pack lands. Or, really, to live in a wolf controlled territory. So Derek had been surprised to smell humans on the breeze. He was only seven and super curious so he followed his nose down the lane....
Stiles groaned as he answered his phone. He hated being pulled out of research! “Hello?” “Good evening, Stiles. Always a pleasure,” Peter drawled—how did he even get Stiles’ number?—“I feel it is my duty, as your most beloved packmate, to warn you that Derek’s gone feral and is heading in your direction. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Before Stiles could say or ask anything Peter hung up and, knowing him, the creepy wolf wouldn’t answer if Stiles called....
Stiles runs away on a perfectly ordinary day. He leaves a note for his father: I want to live. Sorry. It’s a perfectly ordinary day when Mischief returns to Beacon Hills. Mischief knows no one expected him to come to his dad’s funeral. He’s the kid who ran away. Broke his dad’s heart. The heartbreak is what really killed him, they say. He stands tall. Ignores the whispering. Doesn’t give a eulogy....
Peter knows himself. His vices and virtues (the few he has, anyway). He embraces being a predator. Enjoys stalking and hunting. He’s a master manipulator and few things bring him as much pleasure as seeing his plans come together. He’s watching his prey. This moment has been years in the making. Getting here had taken all his skill. The challenge of a lifetime. It would be the zenith of his genius!...
1 He’s looking at himself in the mirror. It isn’t something he often does these days. He generally avoids it. Derek’s looks have done nothing but cause him trouble. Even with the beard and the eyebrows, something about his face always seems to scream ‘vulnerable’ to predatory women. When he shaves, he looks at his jaw and neck. Same when he buzzes his hair. He can’t remember the last time he stopped and looked at his reflection....
“Derek, are mates a thing?” “Yes.” “And…???” “Wolves can chose to mate, like humans chose to marry.” “So it’s not some kind of mystical moon destiny?” “Stop reading werewolf smut, Stiles.” “Shut up! But explain.” “Mating is a kind of magic. It requires intent and consent. So a wolf can’t mate a human unless they know what mating is. Especially since it’s for life.” “Is there some kind of sex ritual or whatever?...
Perhaps the worst thing about werewolves was their love of nature. Stiles? Did not love nature. He didn’t like the bugs, the lack of plumbing, and he especially didn’t like the lack of wifi. However, because the pack was mostly werewolves, they’d decided that they needed to go camping – as a pack. Stiles didn’t get it because they could run around as they pleased in the preserve while he stayed near toilets and wifi....
Stiles groaned as he sat up in bed. He was in pain. Then again, he was almost always in pain. Today seemed like a five, so not too bad. He wouldn’t need one of the percocets sitting on his nightstand. Small victories, he supposes. He was, however, dizzy. Too dizzy. He glares at his walker, because of course today would be a walker day. Not like he’d planned on running a few errands....
Derek’s reading to him and Stiles is kind of drifting on the sound of his voice. They do this most nights. Stiles has always loved Derek’s voice. The way he looks, it’s always a surprise that he doesn’t have a deep, gravelly voice. It’s lighter. Smoother. It’s comforting and Derek’s surprisingly good at doing the voices. Also at being significantly more expressive than when he speaks. Derek usually reads to him while he’s cuddled up in some way....
When Derek decided that he really couldn’t take one more awful thing happening to him and left Beacon Hills, he found himself drawn back to New York. Other than the years with his pack in Beacon Hills, New York was the only other place that had felt like home. He’d only had Laura but they’d made it work. Cities were hard on werewolves but could also be easy, depending on your situation....