Chapter Text
Lydia gasped and moaned unashamed, her hips jerking upwards and her hands tightening painfully in the curls on the back of Isaac’s head. He hissed at the feeling and pulled away from her sharply to glare over the folds of her skirt that was bunched up around her waist.
“You do realise there’s a person attached to that right?” he reminded her gruffly.
She rolled her eyes and urged his head back to where she needed it. He resisted for a moment, although that was mostly out of principle than anything else, because damn it, Lydia needed to know that not everyone would bow to her whims, before he allowed himself to get lead back to the space between her legs and grinned triumphantly when he brought a strangled cry from her lips.
Relationships were hard in their world. People got hurt, died, all the time and it’s hard to be cute and adorable with someone when you are very much aware that they could kill you in six different ways, and Lydia especially knew how to do it in ten, and make them all look like an accident. Besides, she was a Beta, his superior. He defaulted to her should Derek or Scott be unavailable and he couldn’t say how hard it was to follow orders that put her in any kind of danger. Even during the confrontation with the Hunters, he hadn’t been able to stop his heart lurching just a little in panic when she had disappeared from his line of sight, behind a mess of falling bodies. He had shook it off, said it was stupid and that Lydia was more than capable of looking after herself, but the feeling never receded.
That was why he needed this, to feel her underneath him, moving and moaning and very much alive.
And there was no denying the fact Isaac enjoyed the fact that he could bring this confident, powerful woman to an incoherent mess with just a few licks. Her nails scraped along his scalp and he shivered, his hips rolling against the mattress for a moment before he controlled himself and he sucked with new vigour.
“Oh, fuck-” she cursed, her eyes squeezing shut and her thighs quaked around his face.
Isaac laughed happily against her slit, felt her shudder and let his tongue push deeper until she could only make loud wordless noises that meant she was close, god she was so close. Isaac sucked, licked with new determination, the tip of his tongue flicking against her clit, pressing just enough to toe her to the edge before he added pressure and she came with a cursed sob, rocking down onto him, and he hummed happily, nuzzling his face against the sticky wetness.
A sudden thump broke his revelry from the wall to his left, and then another, firmer this time. He cracked one eye open and looked over the red hair to the Beta’s face. She was flushed and sweaty and, much to his disappointment, he could already see the tension and the weight of the job returning to her shoulders. He sighed in defeat, silent acceptance that their time alone was over, and allowed himself for a few more moments of closeness before he reluctantly pulled away.
“Sounds like Argent’s up,” Isaac commented, his voice thick.
Lydia made a noise of agreement and sighed. “She has the worse timing.”
“You’re the one who put her in the room next to yours,” Isaac reminded pointedly, “If you didn’t want to keep her close...”
“I’m sorry, how selfish of me,” Lydia rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at him.
He grinned, and crawled up the bed, his arms on either side of her head and he rested in the curve of her spread legs. “Don’t worry, I forgive you,” he joked.
“I am grateful,” Lydia murmured and tilted her head to press a kiss to his lips.
There was another thump and the couple broke with a sigh, Isaac dropping his head to Lydia’s shoulder.
“I suppose I should go deal with her,” Isaac stated reluctantly, beginning to pull away, and he was stopped by a firm hand against his arm.
“Not you,” she told him firmly. He opened his mouth to object but she continued, “If you go to her in this state,” he jumped when her hand - when the hell did her hand get down there again? - grasped around his clothed cock and rubbed teasingly, “you’ll scare her half to death.”
“Uh, g-good point,” Isaac looked sheepish, his hips twitching towards the touch of her hand.
“We’ll get Scott,” Lydia announced.
Isaac tilted his head. “He’s in the War Room with Derek.”
“Then this can give Stiles a break from trying to stop them from tearing out each others throats,” she told him with a small shrug, “Besides, this was Scott’s plan. I was just the executor. He can deal with all the human interactions. I, on the other hand, have my own interactions to deal with.”
Her thumb traced along the head of his cock, pressing firmly through the fabric of his underwear and Isaac gapped. “Y-yes, definitely Scott. Scott can deal with Argent and you can - oh shit - keep doing that.”
Isaac didn’t think it was possible for someone’s laugh to sound like darkness and bells and evil amusement, but once again, Lydia proved to be the exception.
*
Allison Argent regretting her decision.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to be there, at the confrontation. She had been told by Kate and she’d been told by her grandfather that things could get dangerous and considering who she was, who she would become, she had to stay safe and the only way to do that was to stay hidden. That was something that had been drilled into her since she was born, she wasn’t likely to forget it.
But god, she hated that rule.
The compound that she grew up on was great and all - it was home - but she wanted more. Allison wanted to see more, to do more. She didn’t just want stories of what life was like; she wanted to live it. She wanted to know her enemies first hand; not just the horror stories she had grown up with. She wanted to fight with people who weren’t too afraid to make it a challenge for her in case they hurt her.
And look what that got you, the voice at the back of her head taunted her. You sneak out once and you taken hostage by the enemy. Well done.
Allison gritted her teeth with renewed angry and kicked at the wall to her right. There were people on the other side, she could hear them loud and clear, low mumbles of their voices along with laughter and moans - jeez was it really necessary to do that there? Surely they had other things to do with their time than that - and she damn well had to make sure that her displeasure for being knocked out, taken god knows where and chained to the headboard of a bed was known.
She didn’t get a response, not that she had the other four times, but by now her frustration had boiled into anger and she shouted when she pulled violently on her cuffs. The chain pulled taut and the metal of the cuffs bit harshly into her wrists. Allison bit back a curse and leant towards the hold in an attempt to lower the pressure.
All at once she felt...defeated, and trapped. She had really screwed up this time, hadn’t she? She dropped on to the bed, legs pulled to her chest, not relaxing, never relaxing, but she just didn’t have the energy to sit up anymore. Allison’s eyes damped with bitter tears, itching and burning, and she clenched them shut because she refused to cry. She sniffed and drew in a harsh breath.
No, she couldn’t fall apart. She was a Hunter. She was an Argent. She could figure a way out of here. Of course she could, was there any doubt?
Allison managed to push herself back onto her knees, when the door at the other end of the room clicked and the handle turned and panic rose quickly within her. She stumbled off the bed, standing up straight and forcing herself into the furthest corner of the room. Yes, it pulled at her bruising wrists a little but she wasn’t going to be a willing victim in this. Her shoulders tensed and her legs locked together, as the door swung open.
She had been told a lot about the Pack growing up, mostly from Gerard and mostly about the fact that they were just overgrown animals that could masquerade as a part of human society. As a child, she had always imagined them as hunk like creatures with too much body hair, rotten teeth and an evil snarl. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at them all before she was taken - hovering at the back of a warehouse, trying not to get seen would do that - but well, this one wasn’t what she had imagined.
He wasn’t huge or hairy. He was slight with the face of a high school sweetheart than that of a violent gang member, with wide brown eyes and black curls that fell over his forehead. He wasn’t even dressed like the professional he was supposed to be. He was in sweatpants and a sleeveless top that revealed harsh shoulders and muscled arms, two black bands tattooed on his right arm. He stepped forward slowly on bare feet and closed the door behind him carefully.
He took another step closer and Allison tensed even more, her neck pressing against the cold bar of the headboard. He stopped.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her.
She snorted but said nothing else.
“I’m Scott,” he introduced himself, his feet sliding closer to the bed, “And I promise you that no one is going to hurt you here.”
Allison didn’t believe him, how could she, but she was stumped by the sincerity in his voice. Why would he promise that? All her training for hostage situations - and there had been a lot of them in her training growing up - and she fell back to it desperately in search of what to do or say to get the upperhand, to try and understand what was happening.
“They lie Allison,” Kate had told her once, “And they will continue to lie, to make you trust them, until you give them what they want - and then they’ll kill you. Simple as. Those animals don’t care whether they kill an innocent or even a child, so don’t think that’ll protect you. The only way to beat them, is to play at their own game. Lie. Lie well. Make them believe you.”
Allison swallowed and straightened up, her exterior becoming more controlled. Just like she had been taught. “C...can I get that in writing?”
Scott grinned, amused. “If it makes you feel more assured, sure.” He took another step and Allison eyed the distance between him and the bed. Seven steps, maybe. “Do you need anything?”
“Um, I don’t know, maybe you could loosen these ties a little,” she tugged at the chains a little.
“I was thinking more on the lines of food or water,” Scott pointed out.
Allison hummed, feigned thought. “No, I still think I’d prefer to be let go.”
Scott’s eyes moved over the chains. “If you sat on the bed, they probably wouldn’t bruise your wrists as much as they are now.”
Allison blinked surprised for a moment before recovering. “Well, if you let me go, you wouldn’t have to worry about my wrists, would you?”
“And then what would I do with my time?” Scott mocked.
“Go back to raping, killing and pillaging?” she offered with a tight smile, which faltered at the edges when Scott laughed.
“Oh, but if that’s what you think we do, then do you endorse those actions?”
“Of course not,” she spat out instinctively, aghast.
“Then it must be better to spend my time worrying about your wrists. Keeps me out of trouble,” Scott said, entertained. He took a step back, towards the door, “I’ll send something for you to eat.”
Allison scrambled a little as he made to leave, caught between worry at being left alone again and irritation at giving him the upper hand. She ignored the pain as metal bit into flesh. “The Hunters will be looking for me,” she stated confidently.
Scott paused and nodded, acceptingly. “Yes, probably.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We’re good trackers. You should be worried.”
“I’ll be sure to write that down in my diary, lest I forget again,” he assured her, still uncaring.
“They’ll kill you all.” Allison snapped.
“Not if we get there first.” Scott’s eyes hardened before relaxing, the softness that was there before coming back to the edges, “Relax, Allison. Your stay here will be easier that way.”
She sat back surprised. She hadn’t been allowed out of the compound for a reason. No one was supposed to know about her, a safety precaution (which became even more necessary when her mother had died when she was four) as well as a military strategy to surprise the Pack when she came to fight. But they knew. They knew who she was. Fuck.
“How?” Allison whispered out the word, harsh and angry.
“A mutual friend who cares about you, and doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“A mutual friend that hands information over to the enemy?” She glared.
Scott smiled knowingly, perhaps a little sympathetic and pitying and god, did she hate that. “Just relax,” he told her soothingly, “You’re safe here.”
After he left, if Allison screamed until her voice faded; if she kicked the wall until her feet bruised; if she banged the headboard until her head ached; if she woke up the whole damn house, she didn’t care. She may be their hostage, she may have no idea why she was here or what the Pack were planning, but for damn sure, she wasn’t going to accept submissively.