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It starts with a black blur and ends with giggling.
At least, that’s how Allison summed it up afterwards. I was too busy gaping to consider all of the implications at first – that the Hale Alpha not only mated, but mated with a human boy.
Or maybe not-so-human boy… but there’s where the story begins.
***
“So there’s literally a pack of werewolves out here, and you’re friendly with them,” Robert says from the backseat of my SUV. He pauses in disbelief. “And you’re friendly with them?”
“Not friendly,” I explain, and how strange is my life that I’m now the go-between for a pack of werewolves (of which my daughter is a member) and the rest of the hunters that cross into Beacon Hills. “But I stick to the Code as long as they do. We’ve got a truce of sorts. I’m introducing you both to the local Alpha so that for the time you’re here, you won’t run into problems with the pack as long as you don’t engage them. They’ve been sticking to themselves for the past few weeks, but Allison let them know we were dropping by.”
Allison turns around to glare into the back seat, and Christ she reminds me of Victoria as a young woman when she sweetly says, “And if you engage them, it won’t be only the pack you have to worry about.”
“Allison,” I chide, and she shoots me a smug grin. “I’m sure Robert and Dennis aren’t staying long enough to…”
I slam on the brakes as the Stilinski boy runs in front of me from out of the underbrush. He shoots across the road and into the tree line on the other side.
“What the hell was that?” Dennis asks.
We don’t wait long for the answer; as he finishes the question, a black, four-legged blur blows through the trees in the same direction as Stiles. We’re treated to a howl and a snarl as it passes.
“Holy shit!”
“Relax,” Allison says. “They’re training.”
I give her an incredulous look and she says, “Seriously, Dad. Park the car and let’s follow them, if you don’t believe me.”
I’m not left with much of a choice when the two back doors fly open, both hunters exiting the car with haste. I yank the car off the main road, throw it into park, and follow the group into the trees.
We don’t run far, but when we do find the pair, they’ve made it to a large clearing. Stiles is nowhere to be seen, and the Alpha – Hale – is sniffing the air, circling a singular tree. The werewolf looks at us, snorts, and continues its path.
“What…?” Robert asks me. “Did he just dismiss us?”
“We’re not armed and you’re standing next to me,” Allison says. “Just watch. Wait for it.”
“Wait for what?”
I have no idea how it happens, but Stiles just… appears out of thin air, laughs, and pulls the Alpha’s tail. As the wolf swirls around, the boy vanishes again.
“Allison, what the hell is this?”
“I told you, they’re training,” she says. “Stiles is working on his magic.”
The Alpha makes a noise of frustration, sits down on its haunches. It tilts its head and then, in a display of sheer superhuman ability, leaps straight up and pounces on a clump of leaves.
The leaves shriek in dismay; or rather, Stiles shrieks. “Derek! Damn it, no fair!”
The wolf sits on the boy’s chest, on paw holding Stiles down, and licks across his face. Stiles, on the other hand, starts giggling. “Help! Wolfy breath, eww! Derek James Hale, you stop drooling on me this instant!”
“Are we really seeing this?” Robert asks.
Allison rolls her eyes and starts walking to the twosome, who are now mock-wrestling in the leaves. “If you two are done with the display of mad-skills…?”
The Alpha sits back, gives Stiles a last lick, and wanders behind a clump of trees. When he returns, he’s pulled on a pair of ripped up jeans and boots. “I hate it when you hide clothes out here,” Stiles says, from his still-prone position on the ground. “Where’s the gratuitous nudity? I signed up for nudity. More nudity, less drool.”
And be damned if I don’t see Hale’s ears turn red. “Shut up, Stiles,” he grunts, but it doesn’t stop the half-smile from forming. He reaches out a hand and yanks the boy to his feet.
They turn to us as one, Hale’s shoulder in direct contact with Stiles’. “Chris,” he says, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “Allison.”
“Hi, Derek,” she says, and creeps a little closer to give Stiles a high-five. “Getting better,” she tells him.
He grins. “Yeah, well, it would probably be easier for me to hide from Scott or something. Somebody knows me too well now.”
“Maybe if you stopped breathing so loudly,” Hale says, his face expressionless. “Like an elephant.”
“Oh, excuse me! I’d just been running for my life, so sorry for being out of breath,” Stiles replies, and jabs Hale in the side with his elbow. “Maybe if a certain Sourwolf wasn’t so sneaky, I wouldn’t have to run so fast.”
Hale doesn’t reply; I take advantage of the lull to says, “I wanted to stop by today to introduce you to two of our neighbors from Los Angeles. This is Dennis Murphy and Robert Stevens. Gentlemen, this is Derek Hale, the Beacon Hills Alpha, and Stiles Stilinski, the Sheriff’s son.”
“The sheriff’s son, huh?” Dennis asks, and Hale glares at the man. “You’re human?”
“Most of the time,” Stiles replies, and I’m surprised at how casually he says it. As I’ve watched this pack grow and develop, Stiles has always been the spastic, lovable sidekick. The clumsy human boy lost in the midst of a growing, ever-strengthening werewolf pack. “When I’m not kicking ass and taking names to protect what’s mine,” he continues.
The words hit like a brick: seeing him stand side-by-side with Hale, I realize, “Jesus Christ, Stiles. You two have…”
Hale growls at me and Stiles puts a hand on his arm. “Hey, stop that. It’s not like we sent wedding invitations to everyone.”
“There’re so many things wrong with that visual,” Allison teases, and Stiles grins at her. “Which one of you would wear white?”
“Derek, of course.”
“What? No, Stiles, we’re not…”
“Are you saying you don’t want to make an honest boy of me?” Stiles squawks, clutching his chest dramatically. “Allison, do you hear this? I’m tainted goods now! All of my years of saving myself and I’m not even going to be married!”
“For God’s sake, I didn’t…”
“Derek Hale, how could you?”
The three of them start bickering, and I chuckle to myself, wondering exactly when I’d become superfluous to the conversation. I wave at the other two hunters, who look more confused than I feel. “So, you’ve met the Alpha,” I say.
“Um… yes?”
“And now you see why we’ve got a tentative truce,” I say.
My daughter says something I miss, and suddenly they’re all laughing – even the ever staid Alpha. Hale throws his arms in the air in defeat, says to me, “Take your daughter away. Bad enough I can’t get a word in edgewise with one of them.”
“Hey!”
“Come on, Allison,” I say, shaking my head. “See you later, Hale. Stiles.”
I corral the other two hunters, herding them back toward the car. As we leave, I catch Stiles saying, “I don’t care whether or not we get married, you know. Just as long as you know you’re mine.”
I hear a growl and the sounds of kissing, and a moan carries on the wind.
I walk a little faster.