Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The new big bad appeared near the end of spring break. 

The first sign of it was the dead animals found throughout the Preserve, throats torn and innards splayed out on the grass around them. The second sign came in the heavy feeling in the air. It was as if an invisible fog had rolled into town, carrying with it an eerie feeling of dread. The third and final sign was the growing number of people in the hospital due to blood loss or the strange disease that left them weak and close to death.

On top of all of that, Stiles had to deal with the problems of being a Kisantus in human form.

He missed his wings, but the ache got less every day. Instead the issue was due to his wing-siblings. They visited often, which was not the best when he was in public and was the only one who could see them. The wind and flickering lights they brought with them didn’t help.

“Shooni, I swear to the Mother that if you do not stop appearing when I’m at the store I will find a way to materialize you and hit you with my bat.” In a move that was way too similar to a certain alpha, Stiles scowled.

The air chimed around him, which caught some odd looks from the people shopping around him. He gave them a tight smile and held up his phone as an excuse. Most of them moved on, attributing the encounter to teenage drama, though Stiles didn’t think he had been particularly convincing.

“ But where else would I visit you? Our siblings have taken all the good locations, leaving me with this place. ”

He sighed. “At least tell me someone’s figured out what our monster of the month is. Please.”

A sorrowful chime. Shooni had always been the most emotional of all the immortals in Kistousun, which wasn’t saying much as most immortals shied away from emotion.

“ I am sorry brother ,” she said. “ Firmitas has forbidden us to tell you what the creature is. He says ‘when the time comes, you will know.’ ”

He scowled. “Does Firmitas know when the sick will start to die? Or if they even will die? At least let him give us the answer to that, please Shooni.”

“ I will return when I have news ,” she sighed.

A sudden wind swept the aisle he was in, making the packaging on various foods flutter. His wing-sister had returned to Kistousun. He sighed and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t get paid enough to deal with this shit. Wait. He didn’t get paid at all. Whatever.

“She gone?” Derek asked, walking up to him and gently putting a tub of ice cream into his cart. It was Isaac’s favorite flavor. Sweetwolf.

“Yup. Nothing useful from our friends up high.” He ran a hand over his buzzcut. “Firmitas told her that they’re not allowed to tell us what the big bad is, which is probably for an important reason. Shooni said she’d ask if he knows if the sickness will kill the infected patients. Hopefully he’ll tell us that.”

Derek bumped shoulders with him. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Can you go get apples? Erica’s going through a fruit phase and she ate all the apples in my fridge. Your puppies will be the death of me.”

“Why are they always mine when they misbehave?” Derek muttered as he walked away.

The weekly trip to the store went well after that, and soon Derek and Stiles were unloading the groceries into the Stilinski kitchen. Isaac, probably hearing them enter, propped himself up on the kitchen counter.

“You ready for school tomorrow, pup?” Stiles asked as he loaded the ice cream into the freezer.

“Yeah,” Isaac swung his legs while he sat. “Not looking forward to Econ though.”

“Understandable. Hey, why don’t you get Derek to help you study? He majored in Economics back in New York, he could totally help you out.”

Isaac’s eyes went round and soft. He gazed down at Derek, “Would you do that for me?”

Derek looked just as affected. “Of course, pup. Anytime.”

Stiles grinned and went to put away the huge amount of apples Derek had bought. He stopped, bag in hand. Could he use magic to put up the rest? It would be a test of precision if nothing else…

His Grace had been steadily building back up since his memories returned around three weeks ago, but it would never be the same as before he was reborn due to his half-mortal status. With his Grace at near full levels, he definitely would have enough power to put away some groceries.

He flicked his hands in a slow, soft motion, mimicking what he would do with his wings when he used his Grace as an immortal. By now he had almost gotten used to using human motions instead of winged ones.

The bags unloaded their objects into the opening cabinets and fridge. A few of them bumped into various pieces of furniture, one even knocking into Isaac’s shin as it tried to get into a cabinet below him.

“Neat trick,” Lydia drawled, letting herself into the house.

Stiles wiggled his fingers, and a gallon of milk bumped into her hip on its way to the fridge. She raised an eyebrow in his direction, face blank. He could tell she was happy through her banshee magic, so he didn’t bother apologizing.

He hopped onto the counter at Isaac’s side and bumped his shoulder with his own. “Scott still at the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Isaac nodded. “He texted earlier to say there’s been another patient admitted, which takes the count up to seven in the last week.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Stiles shook himself of his sadness and looked to Lydia who was perched in a chair at the table, scrolling through her phone, probably researching for the big bad. Her aura was dull, which Stiles took as a comfort, no one would be dying any time soon.

“Lydia,” he got her attention and switched into Thalis, “ Are you ready for school to start? ”

He had been teaching her his language since the day he had received his memories, and she had taken to it like she took to everything else. By the end of the first week she had most of the vocabulary learned. Her main problem was the ambiguity of the language, but that would go away with more practice.

She squinted, thinking through his question.

He gave her a tip, “Start with the base words and then try to figure out the meaning from there.”

“I think you said: soo tan usa saik-tan non tai saikwoosu , which would literally mean: Do you have your mind for the mind house?” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just ask me if I’m ready for school tomorrow?”

He grinned. “I did. Good job.”

“You couldn’t have made a better practice sentence?” she huffed. “I could have gotten that on context alone.”

“Most of Thalis is based on context, I’m just immersing you in the language one bland sentence at a time.”

Derek hummed in amusement and flashed his eyes at Stiles, teeth sharpening. He snapped his teeth in the air and tilted his head. He probably wanted to go for a run after being at the store for so long, so Stiles gave him a smile and a nod towards the door. Stiles would take care of the pups while Derek let his wolf take charge.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac frowned.

“Aw, stop the pouting, pup. He just wanted to let his wolf out for a while. He doesn’t like going to the store when it’s full, so he’s going on a run to clear his mind after that.”

Isaac cocked his head like a puppy. “How do you always know things like that?”

“Well,” Stiles mused, “I assume it’s because he’s my mate, but it might also be my magic helping me understand the language he prefers.”

Lydia chuckled. “It still amuses me that it took an actual divine experience for you two to get your shit together.”

He squawked in indignation. “Excuse you! Don’t talk about your alphas that way, young lady.”

“Old man,” she retorted, another laugh in her voice.

“Ungrateful brats,” he muttered under his breath, shoulder purposely bumping into Isaac’s to make him giggle.

Throughout the rest of the day, as usual for the last few weeks, the pack converged in the Stilinski living room and settled in for the long haul. Before dinner, Scott updated everyone on the mystery disease while Allison and Lydia went through the Argent Bestiary looking for clues on what the big bad could possibly be.

Stiles took this time to bask in his pack’s closeness, Derek at his side.

His father retired to his room after dinner was served, but the pack huddled closer, talked, and just existed with each other until their eyes started drooping. It took only a small cue to get them up the stairs and into their regular sleeping spaces in Stiles’ room.

Derek grunted and cuddled closer to Stiles on the mattress, Erica and Boyd at his back. Stiles really should invest in a bigger bed so nobody would have to sleep on the floor in puppy piles like Scott and Isaac were.

With the return of school came new difficulties, including dealing with his increase in power around humans that didn’t know of the supernatural world. He couldn’t switch to Thalis mid sentence or be bare-chested so his wounds could breathe. His senses were constantly overwhelmed by the auras of the students around him. This was probably close to what a wolf would experience, he thought.

Like most supernatural problems in Beacon Hills, it was at lunch that everything changed.

“Jackson and I are gonna patrol the Preserve when school lets out,” Stiles told the group, getting a nod from the wolf in question. “Scott, Isaac, can you two check in with Deaton and the hospital? Good. Lydia and Allison will probably have another research binge tonight, so that leaves Erica and Boyd to patrol the town with Derek. Sound good?”

The pack gave their agreements.

“Good. I want to get another look at the latest animal carcass, just to feel the magic signature again.”

Jackson slid his tray over to Isaac, french fries left alone just for the pup, and said, “What do you think you’ll get from it that you haven’t the last ten times?”

“Well, smartass,” he grinned, “every time I see it it feels more and more like I know the magic. If I figure out why, I’ll find out what the creature is. Simple as that.”

“How is that simple?” Jackson scowled.

He wiggled his fingers, “Magic.”

Jackson rolled his eyes.

The pack fell back into conversation, but Stiles decided to refresh his memory of the possible creatures that were associated with disease and blood loss. There were a surprising amount that fit the criteria.

He abruptly stopped scrolling through the online bestiary on his phone and closed his eyes.

“Guys,” he muttered, enough emotion in his voice to get their attention quickly. “Something’s wrong.”

Nobody spoke as he tried to find what had triggered his magic so suddenly. There was an odd smell in the air, decay. It was apparent only to him, as the smell was the remnants of dark magic, his specialty.

When he opened his eyes they were an inky purple that matched his now-gone wings. He scanned the cafeteria, his magic reaching towards the numerous auras and sifting through them to find the one that caught his attention.

“It feels like the mystery disease patients do,” he said. His magic turned his head to look at the furthest table.

There. 

A junior named Caleb Day. Age 17, member of the lacrosse team, only child of two loving parents, and currently sleeping with his head pillowed by his backpack. His aura was damaged, cracked like poorly held together glass.

“Anybody know Caleb well?”

Boyd grunted in affirmation. “We share most of our classes. Why?”

“He’s sick, like the others, but it’s not as progressed as the ones in the hospital. It feels like it only just began.”

Stiles squinted, his eyes growing a deeper purple.

“But there’s something else too. Something alive in him where it’s not supposed to be. It feels like the animal bodies in the woods.”

Lydia hummed, “Possession?”

“Probably. I’ve seen it before, but this signature is weird, out of place. It’s way more similar to what we would see in Europe or Africa than what we have here in North America.”

“That narrows the list down a little,” Allison swiped through her phone quickly, updating their possible suspects criteria. “Any idea how it got across the ocean?”

“Not right now, but ask me again after we find out what it is. Some creatures that can possess try to get rides on planes or boats, but most pick a host and stick with it. We’ll have to ask it when we get it out of Caleb.”

“How are we gonna get it out?”

“Well,” Stiles grinned, “Boyd shares classes with Caleb, yeah? How about we get him cornered after eighth period ends, and we can assess the situation then?”

He received nods from the rest of the table.

“Is the creature aware of what goes on in Caleb’s environment? That would make cornering him tricky.” Allison was once again the smart one.

Stiles frowned. He reached out with his magic towards Caleb’s table and gently brushed against his mind. His Grace allowed him to enter without hurting the boy.

Being inside someone else’s mind was interesting. He had done the process many times over the years, mainly when he needed information or needed to heal someone without them knowing. People’s minds were always different, but the racing thoughts and feelings were similar in all of them.

Being inside a possessed person’s mind was slightly different. The thoughts and feelings were there, but there was a sealed off area of the mind that pulsed with corrupted energy. He had felt that type of energy before, but the name was hiding from him. Luckily, the foreign energy didn’t notice him, so he eased out of Caleb’s mind as quickly as he could.

“No, it’s asleep for now. I have a feeling it won’t wake up until sunset.”

Erica peered at him curiously. “How’d you know?”

“Let’s just say,” he drawled, “you don’t ever wanna see inside a teenage boy’s mind.”

Silence at the table.

“You can read minds?” Scott squeaked.

“Only if I use my Grace, and only if I have a good reason to. Don’t worry, Scotty, I have no intention of rifling through your thoughts if I don’t have to.”

That got his pack to relax.

Now to wait for school to be over so he could feel out the creature hiding in a 17 year old kid. Sounded like fun.

The day went shorter than he thought it would after the lunchtime discovery, but that might have had something to do with his past. To a Kisantus a day was like a second. Even as a human he knew how to zone out enough to fake paying attention like he did as a hatchling in his Kampo’s lessons.

They chose an empty classroom as the meeting place, away from prying eyes. Boyd led an unsuspecting Caleb there without much trouble.

“Hey, man,” Stiles greeted as Boyd closed the door behind Caleb. The boy looked suspicious now. “What’d Boyd tell you to get you here? We gave him some ideas, but he said he would wing it.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “Math tutoring. Said he needed help.”

“Well, that’s not really the truth, but I’m pretty sure you’ve guessed that by now. You wanna sit down? What we’re gonna tell you might be a little shocking.” He gestured to the desks behind him.

The reveal went about as well as it could have. Caleb was currently staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, muttering to himself as the rest of the pack filed in.

“Everything makes sense now.” Caleb shook his head. “That’s why the howls started back up again after the Hale Fire. A werewolf pack. Holy shit. And I’m possessed? By what? Please say it’s not a demon, I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that demon possession will only end badly.”

Stiles laughed. “It’s not a demon, trust me.”

“Yeah, Stiles would know,” Erica snorted.

He raised an eyebrow in her direction, something he had picked up from his mate. She smirked back at him, her own eyebrow raised. With a bit of help from his mortal magic, Stiles let out a low growl, a perfect mimic to Derek’s, full of Alpha power.

Erica’s eyes went wide, and she bared her neck with a low whine. He chuffed, letting her know he wasn’t mad.

“Werewolves,” Caleb muttered.

“Yup.” Stiles took a seat on the desk closest to the kid and met his eyes. “Now, how about I take a look at that parasite of yours. That okay? All I need to do is touch your head, nothing crazy.”

Caleb shut his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, go for it.”

Stiles chuckled as he placed his hands on the sides of the boy’s head, palms on his bare skin.

Here we go.

Having skin contact was the best type of connection when attempting what Stiles was trying to attempt, but it didn’t matter in the long run. With his Grace, the creature had no idea he was snooping around. That made it easier to examine it closely.

It was so familiar, but he still couldn’t place it. Earlier Stiles said it was from either Africa or Europe, but upon closer inspection it was from Africa. It had that distinctive tint to its magic that only came from the low plains of Ghana. The specific shade in its spirit meant it originated from Vodun, the religion of the Ewe tribe, which meant there was only one type of creature it could be, and it wasn’t good.

Stiles eased out of Caleb’s mind and moved back to the desk he was sitting on. He was frowning, and by the unease coming from his pack’s direction they could tell he wasn’t happy with the results of the examination.

“Stiles?” Lydia asked, hesitant for once. “Did you find out what it is?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

Jackson asked, “What is it?”

“Does anybody know which of the patients came in with severe blood loss?” He asked instead of answering the question. “This is important.”

“The Golan girl, the gardener, Hailey Hill, and the teacher’s kid,” Lydia listed, eyes narrow.

“The youngest of the seven,” he muttered. “Makes sense.”

“Why does that make sense, Stiles?” Lydia was looking at him like she already knew but didn’t want to admit it.

“The Adze prefers to feed on children. The other three patients were probably hosts, but hosts don’t survive that long when an Adze is at full power. If the possession doesn’t get them the disease will.”

“Fuck,” Lydia cursed. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve run into them before. I’m sure.”

Allison clenched her jaw, “How do we stop it from hurting anyone else?”

“As weird as it seems, we need milk, palm oil, and a sturdy jar. Besides that, we have to wait for night before we can do anything else. Boyd, can you let Derek know the situation? Tell him I’ll update him when I get home.”

Boyd left the room, phone pressed to his ear.

“Um, sorry to bother you guys,” Caleb spoke up, “but what does that mean for me?”

Stiles’ expression softened. “You should be fine, Caleb, trust me on that. We know what we’re doing.”

“What are we gonna do with him until night?” Erica asked, eyes close to flashing yellow, her wolf nervous.

“Nothing.” Stiles turned to his pack. “We let him go on as normal, and when night falls we set our trap. This isn’t my first time catching an Adze.”

“Wait,” Scott looked confused, “if the thing likes to attack children, why did it take Caleb as a host instead of food?”

Oh. That was a good question. Stiles nodded in his brother’s direction, showing his appreciation of the thought. Why would an Adze pass up a child’s blood?

“Caleb, are you anemic?” He thought he’d seen mention of it in the boy’s mind.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“The Adze probably intended to drain your blood but noticed it was different, so it decided to use you as a host instead. The last host probably succumbed to the sickness that comes with being possessed by an Adze. Don’t worry about that though, Caleb. It’ll be out of you long before the disease takes hold of you.”

The boy looked pale at the thought, but he breathed through it and shook his head. “I’m just gonna let you guys handle this. Junior year is hard enough without acknowledging that I’m possessed by a demon from Ghana.”

“Not a demon,” Stiles muttered under his breath. Then, louder, “Sounds good. Go on as usual and we’ll take care of the rest.”

When Caleb was gone from the room and Boyd came back in, Stiles turned fully to his pack with a serious expression.

“Lydia, do you think you and Jackson can take first watch outside of Caleb’s house? I’m going to take the rest of the pack home so we can update Derek and my dad, but I don’t want to chance the Adze getting away.. You can explain what we’re dealing with to Jackson on the way.”

She nodded and looked at her boyfriend who huffed and agreed as well.

“How are we supposed to know if it wakes up?” Jackson asked.

“If Caleb doesn’t leave the house then it’s still asleep, at least until sunset.” Stiles stretched his aching shoulders and back. “The only way you’ll be able to sense the Adze is when it leaves its host and shapeshifts into its alternative form. They usually go for fireflies, so look out for those.”

“Will do,” he drawled, but it was obvious in the softness of his eyes that he was worried.

They split ways after that, Jackson and Lydia going to keep watch at Caleb’s house and the rest of the pack returning to the Stilinski house. His dad was already home from work, a worried frown marring his face. Derek didn’t look much better.

“What exactly is an Adze?” his father asked.

Stiles collapsed into the loveseat and tugged Derek in next to him.

“Legend refers to it as a shapeshifting vampire which is pretty much true,” he leaned into Derek’s shoulder. “Most of the legends come from the Ewe tribe in Ghana and Togo, so it’s odd for an Adze to be found so far West.”

“You have experience with these creatures?” His father looked vaguely sick at the thought of his son running into vampires.

“The last time I saw one was around the fifteenth century when Mother Moon sent me to a small village near Keta on the coast. There was a wave of bad luck and other symptoms that were usually associated with the Adze. I was sent to check it out ‘cause at the time there was a war going on between the local pride of feline-shifters and a clan of Miengu, so I went to see if they were messing with the human village. The misfortune was just that, a lack of luck, but the disease that swept the village was tied to a pair of Adze, mates, that were looking for a new, stable food source.”

“How’d you get rid of them?” Derek asked, voice quiet and eyes kind.

“I didn’t get to the village until a fifth of the population was sick, about sixteen dead. By then the Adze had collected a group of hosts, which the Ewe called witches, but they used up their supply of infant blood. They started raiding the village’s supply of milk and the oil made from palm fruit. Legend says that when they feed they stay in their insect state, usually fireflies, and cannot be harmed, only trapped.”

Erica cocked her head to the side, “That’s why you wanted a jar, you want to trap the Adze in it.”

“Yup. Once they’re caught they don’t see the point in hiding anymore. They changed into their true forms and tried to attack me, but their talons aren’t strong enough to get through Kisantus’ skin.” He winced. “I ended up impaling them both with spears blessed by the local Vodun priest. Their bodies shriveled almost immediately around the spears. I think the priest kept the corpses in his personal shrine for the next few years before the European colonizers came in.”

A moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oh no, his dad had tears in his eyes.

“What’d I say?” Stiles looked rapidly to each of his pack members who wore the same expressions.

Derek cleared his throat. “I think sometimes we just forget what you’ve been through, that you had a whole other life before this one. It’s surprising to hear your stories. The first one you told me, the one about the banshees and the druid? I don’t think I got my wolf calmed down for hours after that.”

“Oh,” he frowned, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that.”

The sheriff shook his head, looking more put together. “You don’t have to apologize, son. It’s just a lot to get used to, is all.”

Allison hummed, “Your dad’s right, Stiles, we’ll get used to it. For now how about we focus on the Adze and get ready for sunset. You said we needed milk and palm oil? Do we need any specific kinds?”

Thank the Mothers for Allison.

“No, store bought should do. It’s the jar that needs to be special, but I can grab a basic one from Deaton and carve some runes on it. Who wants to come with me to Deaton’s?”

Isaac was up and out of his seat before anyone else could move. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” Stiles grinned. “I’ve been wanting some alone time with my pup. It’ll give us time to catch up on certain issues.”

Isaac’s eyes went wide as a blush spread across his neck. “Maybe I should go to the store with the others.”

“Nope, not getting out of it that easy.” Stiles saw Scott and Allison blush behind Isaac. That would be a lot of fun to tease him about, he decided. Then, looking at Derek, “You wanna take a puppy with you to the store?”

He grunted in affirmation. “Allison.”

Oh.

“You sure?” Stiles asked quietly. The two had been working on reconciliation and were doing pretty well, but Stiles was always worried for his pack.

Derek nodded. Allison gave him a wide, dimpled smile.

“Okay then.” Stiles stood. “Meet back here in an hour?”

His pack agreed, and they went their separate ways. Derek and Allison went to the store, Stiles and Isaac to Deaton’s, Scott to the hospital, and Boyd and Erica to the Stilinski kitchen to get snacks for them and the sheriff.

Deaton looked surprised to see Stiles and Isaac, just a slight widening of his eyes. Stiles gave him a grin and stepped past him towards the back. He knew where the jar was. Second shelf on the right near the other enchanted containers, just where it was last time he visited.

He grabbed it and hummed, his mortal magic gently skimming the glass. It was strong enough to hold most supernatural creatures, but Stiles knew that an Adze in its firefly form was indestructible. Better add some charms just in case.

Where was the… Ah, there it was. He picked an enchanted knife from one of the drawers and examined it. Perfect.

Runes were an interesting form of magic. They came with the immediate aspect of simplicity, but beneath each symbol there was a world of complexity. Stiles had always loved using runes. They came naturally to those who grew up with Thalis as a first language.

He took the knife and started carving into the glass. It wouldn’t break or crack unless he wanted it to, so he dug the knife in with all his strength and poured all his will into his mortal magic.

The first rune was for strength against all forces, represented by the Thalis words for All and Teeth, Todal Glim . The next was for good luck, so he carved out a blessing to Mother Moon. All dark creatures came from Mother Moon, it was her reign he was messing with. With a quick slashing motion, he made the marks for a blessing of light, Patachunk , the light of the earth, something extra to keep in the dark magic of the Adze.

“Interesting marks you are making, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton’s soft voice rolled through the room as Stiles put the knife down.

Deaton had taken the news of Stiles’ divinity surprisingly well, though he did look like he was holding back questions through the whole debacle. Druids were always too curious for their own good.

“The Mothers’ language is always best for this type of casting, Alan.” He held back a smirk. Since he had told the doctor some simple details of his past, he had taken to calling the man by his first name. It was mainly to evoke some kind of emotion from him. He quite enjoyed watching the man scowl, reminding him that he was the child of the two of them.

Isaac crept up to his side. “Everything working?”

“Yeah, pup, everything’s working great. Ready to head back?”

“Yeah. You were carving for a while. It was like you were in some sort of trance, your eyes were purple again.”

That made sense. He had been delving back into his life as a Kisantus to find the best runes to reach out to the Mothers. Stiles put a hand on Isaac’s neck and directed him out of the building, jar in his other hand. The wolf let out a content rumble.

“Please tell me you’re done interrogating me about Scott and Allison,” Isaac mumbled.

Stiles laughed loudly. “Yeah, I’m done, pup. But Derek on the other hand hasn’t even gotten started yet.”

Isaac groaned.

The rest of the day passed quickly, full of preparation for the upcoming battle.

Stiles kept his emotions steady through the prep. It was easy for him, he had billions of years of experience controlling his thoughts before a fight. The pack wasn’t doing as well. He wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the Adze, bleeding infants dry, or just the nerves of a battle ahead that made his pack freak out, but it wouldn’t be any help for him to freak out as well.

It was almost sunset now, and they were holed up in the woods nearby Caleb’s house.

“Let’s run through the plan one more time,” he declared. He had to keep their minds off of what could go wrong. “What happens first?”

Allison polished one of her bolts. “Wait for it to leave the house and smell the bait.”

“Next?”

Boyd took a deep breath, then said, “You’ll set up a mountain ash circle around the Adze while it feeds on the milk and palm oil, and we’ll get ready to attack if it can breach the circle.”

“Next,” Stiles turned to Scott. “What happens if the circle doesn’t work?”

“We let you and Derek attack head on while Allison and Lydia use ranged weapons to distract it. You two will try to get it in the jar.”

“Good. Jackson, what’s after that?”

“You do some fancy magic shit,” Jackson stared down at his claws and flexed his fingers. “And hopefully the creature decides to turn into its hunchback form and tries to kill us all.”

He was scared, Stiles realized.

“It’ll work,” he assured. “I’ve done this before, and we have the blessings of Mother Moon on our side. It’ll work.”

Jackson nodded. He put his claws away and looked back up. He turned to Erica, “Next step?”

She nodded back to him. “We fight. It’ll be vulnerable to our claws and arrows, but it’ll match us with strength and talons. We have the advantage because we can heal faster than it can, but we can’t get too cocky because it’s feral and it’s going to act like it.”

“Good,” Stiles turned to Lydia. “How do we kill it?”

“Go for the soft part of the neck. It holds its head down and shoulders curved in to protect its neck, so we have to expose the hardened flesh and cut through it. Its other vulnerabilities are like ours, back of the knees and stomach.”

Stiles took a deep breath. “That’s it.”

“We’ve got this, Stiles,” Derek stepped up to rest his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Just like you said. It’ll work.”

Erica grinned shakily, “Yeah, and after we’ll celebrate. Find some land in the Preserve and go for a run, get Papa Stilinski and Mama McCall to make us some homemade dinner when we get back.”

He took another breath, easier this time. He nodded.

“Alright,” Derek called out, got everyone’s attention, “sun’s about to set. Everyone get to your positions and wait for the signal. And remember, this is not the time to falter. We have a monster that’s been hurting children and will continue to if we don’t stop it. Focus on that, and we’ll get through this in no time.”

The others left the small clearing, but Stiles couldn’t take his gaze off of Derek.

“We’ve got this,” he whispered.

Derek turned to him and cupped his face. His palm was unbelievably soft.

“We’ve got this,” Derek whispered back.

Stiles leaned in for a kiss, just a quick brush of lips. He pulled back with a new determination in his eyes.

“We’ve got this.” His voice was strong, and he felt his Grace tingle at the words.

He took his position behind a tree, eyes focused on the milk and oil laid out on the dirt a couple of yards away. As a firefly, the Adze wouldn’t sense any others in the area. They would be hidden until they could pounce.

The sun set behind him, but he didn’t take his eyes off the bait.

He waited.

Were they wrong? Would the Adze need the bait? Or would it seek out another victim?

How long had they been waiting? It felt like forever.

Maybe they could--

There. A light floated through the trees, pulsing with each breath Stiles took. The firefly radiated a corrupted type of dark magic, it was completely feral. Normally an Azde was like an animal, acting on survival instincts, but this one was broken, cracked, and it would go after everything it could.

His resolve hardened. He couldn’t let it live any longer.

As the firefly landed on the top of the milk carton, Stiles cast out his hand and threw his magic at the trees around the bait. The mountain ash he had hid in the branches formed a circle around the bait.

So far, so good.

The Adze ducked down into the milk.

Now was the time to move.

Stiles stepped out from behind the tree and approached the circle. His pack would wait for the signal before they attacked.

“Adze,” he called to the creature, “I acknowledge the spirit of Mawu, your creator goddess, and ask for your focus in a negotiation.”

The firefly bobbed up out of the milk carton. The air around it shimmered with its magic, a rotting purple, the antithesis of Stiles’ immortal purple. The creature did not change to its true form. It denied the parley, but he had it’s attention.

“I am a Kisantus, a dark machine of the Mother Moon. I hold the authority of the Mothers, and I have been sent to ask you to listen to our pleas. We cannot let you continue to attack the people of this land. If you agree to our terms, we can promise that you will rest eternally in the land of your kind.”

While the Mothers looked after the Earth and its creatures, and each Mother reigned over the souls of each creature, where creatures go in death was up to their own faith. The Mothers were not the only divine beings, they were just the supervisors. Mawu, the creator goddess of Vodun, watched over her charges even as the Mothers controlled their destinies.

The Adze’s magic pulsed. It is too far gone, but Stiles had to try to reason with it before going to the final option.

“We can help to sate your appetite for living blood, but you will have to never feed on it again. You will feed on bagged blood from hospitals, animal blood, and the human foods of your choosing, but you will not hurt another living human. In exchange you will forever be with your goddess.”

This was it.

“Do you agree to the terms of this deal?”

Another pulse of corrupted magic, stronger this time.

“If you take these terms, shift to your true form and finish this deal with me as we did in the old days.”

The creature did not shift.

Stiles stepped back from the circle. He needed to test the circle against the Adze’s magic.

The firefly moved forward, flying towards him, and didn’t stop at the circle. It kept moving forward.

Stiles threw up a quick shield with a wave of his fingers. The firefly bounced off of it. It pressed against the invisible boundary with its corrupted strength, but Stiles pushed it back.

He whistled sharply, the sound amplified by his magic. The signal echoed through the trees. A gust of wind swept into the air, and the ring of mountain ash lost its magic at his command.

Derek burst through the foliage with a roar, his red eyes and sharp fangs glinting in the faint moonlight.

He and Stiles rushed forward as one. Alpha and Alpha Mate were in sync as they tore through the distance between them and the Adze. They couldn’t physically hurt it, but they could try to tire it out enough to trap it.

That was the question though, how do you tire out a firefly while it flies through the air?

He got the answer as an arrow flew past him, hitting the firefly dead on. The creature staggered in its path but bobbed back up a moment later. The arrow fell to the grass, tip blunt.

The Adze wasn’t hurt, but it was a hair slower than it was before.

Stiles shared a look with Derek. They had to hit it until it couldn’t keep its form, until it retreated or faltered.

He summoned his baseball bat, newly covered in runes. It fell into his hands, and he grinned.  It had been so long since he had gotten to fight like this, even if this wasn’t yet the real fight.

The firefly staggered more with each hit of his bat and swipe of Derek’s claws. If Stiles tried too early to trap the creature, it might break the jar. They needed it to be weak when they captured it.

His bat was showing damage, and Derek’s hands were covered in his own blood from the damage to his claws, but they didn’t stop.

The firefly dodged and weaved, but its magic was weak.

“Almost there,” Stiles grit out. “Just a few more hits.”

He swung his bat viciously at the creature, hitting each time with a loud crack. Derek snarled beside him as he did the same with his claws. Stiles’ heart beat fast in his chest. This was what he missed while he was fully human, the thrill of the fight, fighting side by side with someone he loved.

They moved as one, him and Derek. This was how it was supposed to be, Alpha and Alpha Mate fighting together in harmony, protecting their territory. There was magic in the air, a magic outside of Stiles’ and the Adze’s. Wolf magic, pack magic, the kind that only came when the universe worked in harmony with its creatures. Another arrow whizzed past his head.

This was meant to happen.

Derek’s claws struck the Adze one last time, and Stiles summoned the warded jar to his hands.

The firefly jolted in the air, off balance. He seized the moment and forced the creature into the jar while his other hand closed the lid tight. The runes etched into the glass glowed.

Stiles breathed his first full breath since he gave the signal. He lowered the jar to the grass.

“You can all come out,” he called as he took a few steps back. “It’s just a waiting game from now on.”

He fluttered his fingers, and the remaining mountain ash scattered to the wind.

His pack emerged from the trees around him.

He stretched the muscles in his back, his wounds aching but not yet bleeding. He picked up his bat from the ground, dusted it off and examined the slight cracks in the wood. His runes were still perfect, but the bat itself showed damage.

“Der’, you good?” Taking all that damage to his claws couldn’t have felt good.

Derek grunted. “Yeah, they’re healing, it’s just gonna take a minute.”

“Good.”

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Isaac’s voice rang out. He pointed to the jar.

The firefly shook inside its container, its wings and light stretching and shrinking. It was shifting.

“Everybody back!” he shouted. “Get ready to fight.”

And so it began.

The glass jar shattered as the Adze found its true form. Its body expanded into a dark, hunchbacked figure with long talons in place of its fingers. The eyes were vacant of any emotion other than anger.

Stiles pressed a rune on his bat and felt the end of it sharpen.

He held back as his wolves fought the creature, claws against claws, and waited for an opening. There. He darted in between Erica and Scott to slash at the Adze’s stomach. His sharpened bat sliced through the hardened skin easily, and oily black blood oozed out of the wound.

The creature shrieked every time it was hit, more of its blood covering the grass around them, but it gave back as good as it got. Its talons had ripped a hole in Jackson’s thigh and sliced Isaac’s shoulder to the bone. Despite the pack’s injuries, they looked to be winning.

The Adze caught him with a swipe of his claws, opening a long scratch down Stiles’ left arm. He grunted in pain but tried to shrug it off. He had spoken too soon it seemed.

Derek snarled, louder and stronger than anything he’d done before, and tackled the Adze to the ground, claws digging into its shoulders and forcing its head up to reveal its neck. Aw, his wolf hadn’t appreciated the creature hurting his mate.

Panicking now that its neck was bared, the Adze shrieked and reached out with its magic. The dark mist hovered toward Erica. It was a last ditch effort from the creature, possession to escape its physical form.

Stiles was not going to let that happen.

“ She is mine! ” he snarled, his magic forming an instant shield in front of Erica to block her from the mist. “ You will not touch her! ”

Derek met his eyes. The alpha red was particularly striking in the moonlight. He nodded.

With a vicious smirk, Stiles swung his sharpened bat at the creature's neck. It squealed once, high and short, before its blood pumped out of its body and covered the grass below it.

He had to work fast now if he wanted to find out why the Adze was here and so feral. He put his hands on the sides of its head and concentrated.

Its mind was falling apart at the seams. It dragged him in with such force that Stiles was powerless to resist, like it wanted him to know what had happened to it. He could give it that at the least.

Everything was dark. Agbetor sniffed the air and seized the metal bars trapping him in. The cage smelled of rust and blood. His neighbors had finally given up on calling for help, which he was grateful for.

His captor had earlier taken a shifter from a nearby cage. The screams that echoed through the halls told Agbetor that the shifter was probably dead.

He missed his home. He missed the hills he based his nest in and the village he hunted in. He missed the rivers the humans used to grow their palm fruit. He missed food.

His every instinct screamed for him to break free, attack, get home, but there was no way. He had seen what happened to the magic-human-animal. It had been destroyed. Their captor had pointed a machine at the creature then there was a loud noise and Agbetor couldn’t hear anything. The creature was dead now, rotting on the floor outside the cages.

Could he get to the body?

He smelled the air again, his instincts flaring. The blood smelled heavenly. If he could get closer to it, he could feed. He wanted to feed so badly.

He stuck his hand through the metal bars and whined. His talons scratched the floor as they tried to reach the body that oozed delicious-smelling blood. He was so close.

The creature in the cage next to him grunted, and Agbetor snarled at it. This was his meal. He would eat it, and no one would get the blood but him.

A boot came out of nowhere and pressed down on his hand. He squeaked at the pain, trying to pull his hand back to him, but the boot ground down and made him shriek.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” his captor growled. The man dragged his foot, his boot twisting Agbetor’s talons painfully against the concrete floor.

Agbetor shrieked in apology, but the man ignored him.

“Maybe you’re not broken yet.” The man chuckled, something Agbetor had heard the humans in the nearby village do often, but this one sounded harsh and made his skin tingle with fear. “We can fix that real quick.”

The man pointed a machine at Agbetor, different from the one that had killed the other creature. Agbetor cowered in his cage, but it didn’t matter. The man moved his finger, and something flew out of the machine to stick in Agbetor’s hardened skin.

Everything went dark.

Stiles stayed quiet as he removed himself from the mind of the creature, of Agbetor. He moved his hands to his side. He took a deep breath and grit his teeth. Anger flooded through his body, but he couldn’t act on it just yet. He had to make sure his pack was safe before going after the monster of a man that had hurt so many creatures right under his nose.

“Stiles?” Derek called his name softly. He was worried.

“His name was Agbetor,” Stiles said. His pack went still around him. “He was from Ghana, somewhere hilly near a river. He hunted to survive, but he didn’t kill when he didn’t have to.”

Silence in the forest. Stiles stared down at the body beneath him.

“One day, he was in his den when a hunter caught him in one of their warded nets. From there he was taken to America to be sold in the hunter market. He was bought by a man who collects supernatural creatures and keeps them in cages, breaking them down to their base instincts and setting them loose in certain areas to convince local hunters that all supernatural creatures are dangerous.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“The hunter and his family sent this Adze to Beacon Hills to warn the Argents about being too friendly with us.”

“He had a name?” Scott’s voice was frail. He didn’t want to believe it, Stiles knew, ‘cause he hated hurting people.

“Yes, but not as we knew him. In Beacon Hills, after the hunter did what he did to Agbetor, Agbetor no longer existed. All that was left was the Adze, the feral instinct to kill. It wouldn’t have stopped until everyone in town was dead or dying. By killing the Adze, we have freed Agbetor’s soul from his body. He can be whole again in death."

He had to do something with the body. He couldn’t let the creature’s death be in vain, he had to get his soul where it was supposed to be.

Stiles raised his hand and called for all his Grace to awaken. It coalesced around his open palm in a purple mist. His Grace knew what to do, so he let it take over. His eyes went purple.

He slowly formed his hand into a fist, and with his motion the earth around the body moved to encase it in a hard shell of dirt and rock. His other hand positioned itself over his fist, palm open and down, and pushed against his fist in a harsh downward motion. The earth dragged the Adze’s body down below the surface.

His Grace made him feel weightless for a moment, and he looked to the sky.

“Mother Sun, Mother Moon, I ask for your favor,” he called out to the air. The power in his voice made his bones ache and tremble. “The mind of an Adze belonging to Mawu was destroyed by a human hunter, something that has warped the spirit of the Adze. I ask that you help the soul of Agbetor find peace in death with his own kind. I swear to you both that I will find the human responsible and find the others that he has corrupted in this way, but after I have destroyed Agbetor’s body, I ask that my creators give his soul peace.”

Lightning cracked the sky, a mix of light and darkness that echoed with a loud boom of thunder. The Mothers agreed to his wish. He kept his head tilted up as rain started to fall from the sky.

His job was not done, but the Adze was at peace. He could take a break for now.

“We need to talk to my dad,” Allison said. She didn’t seem happy about it, but she knew it was necessary.

“Yes,” Stiles bared his teeth in a grin, “let’s go see Chris.”

Derek grunted, his red eyes fixed on the bloody slice in Stiles’ arm.

“I’ll be fine, Sourwolf. I’ll get Scott to patch me up on the way, and everybody else is already healed. We’re good.”

“Scott,” Derek barked. It was a command for him to take care of Stiles.

“Got it.”

Stiles sighed as his brother tore off a piece of his shirt. “Is that necessary?”

“I don’t see any bandages around here, do you?” Scott sassed as he started to wrap the cloth around his brother’s arm. “It’s the best we can do for now, bro.”

They left the small clearing and headed towards their cars, Stiles’ jeep and Derek’s camaro. Derek threw his keys to Lydia, taking Stiles’ keys as he passed him on his way to the jeep.

“I can’t even drive my baby?” Stiles pouted. “So not fair.”

“Don’t get hurt next time then,” Derek called, getting into the driver’s seat.

“It’s not my fault a hunter set loose a feral Adze on our territory, Derek.”

Scott tried to help Stiles into the back of the jeep, but Stiles batted his hands away with a scowl. He plopped down in the middle seat, Scott on his left and Allison on his right. Isaac took the passenger seat across from Derek. Stiles felt it best not to mention that his back was probably bleeding.

Stiles held still as Scott patched him up. Derek and Lydia drove the pack to the Argent house, and he noticed Allison fidgeting at his side.

“It’s gonna be alright, Ally,” Stiles reached out with his free hand to clasp hers. “Your dad probably won’t know anything about all this. We’re just going to get some information and some leads, then we’ll go back home and have a puppy pile. Yeah?”

She nodded, blinked back the tears in her eyes. “Yeah.”

He squeezed her hand in reassurance.

As Scott finished cleaning and wrapping Stiles’ arm, Derek pulled up to the Argent house. Stiles followed Allison by the hand to the front door. Derek positioned himself behind the two and the pack gathered behind them.

Allison knocked.

Chris opened the door, hand already hovering at his belt where he kept his gun. He narrowed his eyes at the bloody group before softening as he looked at his daughter. “Ally? What’s going on?”

“Dad, can we come in? Something happened, and we need your help.”

Stiles held back a grin. Allison was so smart, he loved her so much. Scott couldn’t have gotten a better mate.

“Fine,” Chris warily let the pack inside. He kept his eyes on his daughter, scanning her for injuries.

As soon as the pack was settled in the living room, Chris glared at Derek and said, “Explain. Now.”

Stiles chuckled, drawing the hunter’s attention away from his mate. “It’s funny that you think you hold the power here.”

“You think I don’t?” Chris raised an eyebrow, amused at the suggestion.

There was a reason that they hadn’t told Chris about Stiles’ previous life and current Grace. He was an ally, but he was not to be trusted with such important things. That meant Stiles could have a little fun with this.

Stiles smirked. “I know you don’t, that’s why I laughed.”

“That’s not important,” Derek scowled at them both. “We need information on another hunter.”

“What’s their name?” Chris was in business mode now, all signs of amusement gone.

Stiles sighed. “We don’t exactly have a name, but I have a pretty good description of him and his lair.”

“His lair?”

“Yeah, it was full of cages that held different supernatural creatures and the floor was concrete. There were no overhead lights, the only light came from the hunter’s flashlight attached to his chest.”

Chris paused, keen eyes on Stiles. “And how do you know this but not where the hunter is?”

“It’s a long story. Can you hear me out so we can find him? He’s been letting feral supernatural creatures loose in peaceful towns where hunters have good relationships with the locals. This is important, Chris.”

“What does he look like?” Chris looked resigned.

“Tall, broad shoulders, scar on his neck that looks like something tried to take a bite out of him. His hair is shaved close to his head, and his eyes are a dull brown. When I saw him he had on camo pants, a belt loaded up with different weapons, and a simple tank top.”

“Did you hear him speak? Any accent?”

“Northern American accent, sounded like it was from Michigan. His voice was deep and rough.”

Chris hummed, his eyes distant. “Could be a couple different hunters, but I can’t be sure. You said he was keeping creatures in cages? What kind of creatures?”

“All kinds. I can confirm some of them from seeing or hearing them, but I’m not sure about the rest. I know he had an Adze, a beta werewolf, at least two feline shifters, what I think was a gargoyle, a shapeshifting witch, an adolescent Jinn, an Anansi, and three or four kinds of goblins.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “There’s only two families that go after such a wide range of supernaturals, and one of them is based in Europe. That leaves the Fowler family. I think the current leader is a man in his thirties that matches your description, Jason Fowler.”

Stiles grit his teeth. “Do you know where he is?”

“Not right now, but I could ask around and see who knows.”

“Not good enough,” he snarled. His Grace flared at the words. He knew he should calm down, but he was overwhelmed by the thought of a hunting family on his territory, capturing creatures for years with nobody stopping them.

Chris went still, his instincts kicking in at being faced with a predator.

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice a calming growl. “I feel the threat as much as you do, but there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Lydia cautiously brought up. At her alphas’ gazes on her, she swallowed and continued, “This is our territory, and nobody feels that weight as much as our alphas do. Derek is a Hale alpha while Stiles is an alpha on top of the other thing he is, so you two feel the territory even more than other alphas do.”

Stiles slowly smiled. “I get it. You think that if we combine our power to search our territory we could find the hunter.”

Lydia nodded. She picked her words carefully, still aware of Chris in the room, “Like how you told us you could sense the sparks of others before you were with us, but concentrate on only our territory.”

That actually made a lot of sense. But Chris looked suspicious. Should they explain or leave him to stew in his curiosity and come up with his own theories? Leave him to stew, definitely.

Stiles caught Derek’s eye. “You wanna try?”

“Wait,” Chris interrupted, “earlier you said this hunter was letting feral creatures into towns. Is it one of those things that's been attacking the town? More importantly, is it dead?”

Hunters, always thinking with their weapons.

“It’s dead,” Allison confirmed.

Derek grunted. “How do we do this?”

Stiles stood and held his hands out for Derek to grasp as he did the same. Derek’s palms were soft in his. He smiled.

“Will you let me in, Sourwolf?”

He knew that Derek would understand his meaning, but he didn’t know if his alpha would agree. They shared everything, though sharing one’s mind was a personal thing, so he waited for Derek’s answer with bated breath.

Derek swallowed and held eye contact. His eyes flared red, and Stiles felt his own go purple in response.

His wolf let him into his mind.

I won’t go looking around in your head, Hundir-kai, don’t worry, he projected his thoughts into the fog of Derek’s mind.

Slight relief pulsed through the fog. Then Derek’s voice came through, Can you hear me?

You’re adorable. Stiles smiled in the physical world and moved to hug Derek, his head on Derek’s shoulder. I’m going to open my mind to you, alright? It’ll feel weird at first but you’ll adapt quickly, and this’ll work best if we’re fully open to one another .

Derek nodded, his thoughts pulsing in agreement.

Stiles let down his shields with a hum, first letting his positive emotions wash over their shared mind then letting the rest escape into the fog. Absently, he felt Derek gasp against his neck.

They adjusted to their shared space surprisingly easily.

What now? Derek asked. His thoughts were slow and sluggish, sleepy, and Stiles wanted to feel them forever.

I’m going to reach for your alpha spark and let it meet my Grace. They should mingle ‘cause they’ve known each other outside of our mindscape, but I’ll keep an eye on it just in case .

He felt Derek’s agreeing thoughts and pushed his Grace forward. The Alpha Spark in Derek’s chest hummed happily, reaching out to encircle the Grace with a warm tremor.

They seem to like each other , Derek thought smugly. He was entirely too pleased.

Stiles chuckled into their minds. They do. Makes sense, since we like each other too .

We do? Derek gave a dramatic gasp. He was teasing, and Stiles felt his heart bloom with love, no doubt Derek feeling it too.

So dramatic, Sourwolf .

Their natural magic twirled gracefully through the fog of their thoughts and feelings. Stiles’ Grace pressed against the alpha spark. It felt natural.

Concentrate with me, Der’. Stiles let the fog part around their singing cores, and he reached out for the territory lines engraved so deep in their magic.

Slowly, a map of Beacon Hills appeared through the fog. Small flickers of light marked where life sources were, each flicker distinct in its own way. They needed to search for the light folded into its rage and pride, surrounded by hurt, scared creatures in need of saving.

There. At the edge of town, an abandoned warehouse. It was just inside their territory near the road leading out of town, and the shared fog of their brains filled with rage.

Stiles snarled into Derek’s neck, teeth pressed into his skin. Derek returned the gesture and let out a growl that vibrated through both their chests.

Stiles pulled his mind from Derek’s, but as he retreated back into his own thoughts he noticed a blur in the separation between their minds. It was like there was something keeping them together. Stiles pressed his teeth harder to Derek’s neck. If the Mothers wanted them to have a bond, then they would have a bond. He wouldn’t complain.

Someone cleared their throat, Scott. Probably to remind them that they weren’t alone in the room.

Stiles hummed against Derek’s skin and pulled back. Red eyes stared back at him, and he knew that his own were a dark purple to match his Grace.

Derek let out a growl, a challenge against the intruder in their territory. His ears had lengthened into points. He was ready to tear out the throat of anyone who threatened his pack, and Stiles felt his Grace swell at the thought.

“He’s ours ,” he snarled.

Derek chuffed in return.

“You found him?” Chris’ wary voice came through their bubble. He sounded cautious, something dark in his voice, as if he was threatened by the display before him.

“We found him,” Stiles muttered. He forced a grin to his face, bared his teeth, and turned to face Chris.

The man flinched as they made eye contact. Stiles’ eyes were still purple.

“What will you do with him?” It looked like Chris didn’t want the answer to his own question, but he asked it anyway.

“ Destroy him .” Stiles’ grin turned feral as the Thalis slipped effortlessly from his tongue. Even without knowing the language, the meaning was clear.

“Dad,” Allison said, steel in her tone, “We can’t let him continue hurting people. He would have let the patients in the hospital die just to trick us into believing his bullshit.”

“You’re kids. Hunters exist for this sort of thing, I’ll take care of it.” Chris crossed his arms with a scowl.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man and cocked his head. “You think you can stop us?”

Chris smirked, showing a hint of teeth. “I know I can stop you.”

“Now that is funny,” Stiles chuckled. He took a step forward with Derek at his back to cast an intimidating picture, though he didn’t need an alpha looming to look intimidating. Stiles’ teeth were oddly sharp, and his eyes were fully black now.

Chris’ hand went to his belt, to his gun on his hip. “What are you?”

Stiles had to give him props. The man’s voice didn’t shake at all, even as his heart sped up in his chest. It was not a risk, hunters didn’t know of Stiles’ kind.

“I am beyond you, Chris Argent.” Stiles shook his head, huffed, and looked at his pack. “This is useless, standing here waiting around.”

“We need to get him,” Jackson growled.

Derek grunted. 

Stiles translated for his mate, “Who wants to go tonight? We may be the alphas, but this pack is whole and healthy. We make decisions together. If any of you want to wait, then we’ll wait. After the fight we just had, we deserve a break.”

“We may deserve a break,” Boyd spoke, “but Agbetor deserves justice. I’m ready if you are.”

The pack exchanged looks.

Lydia jut out her chin, “We’re ready. We can’t wait until tomorrow, he could be gone by then. It doesn’t matter if we’re tired. We’re going tonight.”

“Good,” Stiles smiled, genuine this time. His pack made his magic turn warm and pulse in his chest, Derek’s alpha spark humming along with it.

“Are we taking the cars or running?” Isaac seemed excited to stretch his limbs and let loose his wolf for a run.

“Neither,” Stiles turned to grin at Derek. “We’re taking the quick way.”

Derek bared his teeth, eyes bright red. He was in agreement.

“Okay, everybody come here and put your hands on me. This’ll only work if we’re in contact the whole time. We don’t want any limbs to be left behind, now do we?” Stiles held out his arms for his pack to hang on to.

Scott did as he asked with wide eyes, “You can teleport.”

“It’s not exactly teleporting, it’s just pulling on the ward closest to the hunter and dragging our minds and physical bodies close enough to it that we end up where we want to be. Don’t worry, I’ve done this tons of times.”

“Were any of those times while you were human?” Lydia did not look reassured.

Stiles ignored the look Chris gave him at the words and snorted, “I don’t need to be human to use my Grace, Lyds. Alright, everybody ready?”

Derek chuffed, his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Hold on.”

The territory belonged to him, his magic whispered. He had free reign to do as he pleased with its inhabitants. His Grace joined his human magic while Derek’s alpha spark brought power to them both.

The wards flared to life in his mind. He reached for the farthest one, tugged , and made sure to bring his pack along for the ride.

He felt a vacuum pull at his body, tugging it in all directions to push it inward and outward simultaneously. His body was weightless for a glorious moment. If his back wasn’t already bloody and torn from the fight, it would have ripped itself open at the feeling. He had the brief thought of fluttering wings before his physical body reformed in the woods near the road.

He let his pack find their bearings before pointing towards the trees. “This way.”

The moon was still high in the sky. His wolves let their eyes shine bright and led the humans through the mess of trees. Stiles’ magic gave him the same night vision that his wolves had.

The warehouse was overrun by the forest surrounding it, a small path carved through the foliage from the bigger road. Stiles led them up the path. He wasn’t worried about being seen, he knew his Grace would protect them.

Reaching the door, he pulled it open and bared his sharp teeth at the metal screech it let out. He took a step inside.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called. 

He scanned the dark interior. He snarled at the sight of cages on the opposite wall, his hands flicking out to scatter lights throughout the space. He caught the shine of eyes coming from the cages. The creatures kept silent.

He knew he had to hold in his anger. His pack fidgeted behind him. If there were any surprises he would need his full power, all of his Grace, so he couldn’t use it up too quickly.

A ruffling noise rang out, the hunter pulling his gun from his belt. Stiles grinned. The hunter was behind a wall of cages, out of sight. Not for long.

Stiles waved his hand, his palm making fluttering motions. The cages moved slowly out of the way with the grinding sound of metal against concrete, he didn’t want to hurt those inside.

Ah, there he was. Stiles ran the tip of his tongue over the points of his sharpened teeth.

“Big, bad hunter, all alone,” he chuckled. “You picked the wrong town to visit, svolik .”

Gunshots, lots of them, from all directions. Stiles summoned a shield in front of his pack with a jerk of his head. The bullets bounced harmlessly off of it.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Stiles took a step forward. “How many of you are there, huh? I’m guessing five… No, six. Six hunters against nine creatures of the night. I’m not liking your odds, guys.”

Another round of gunfire. Stiles kept the shield up easily, amused at their persistence.

“How about I even the odds? You six against only me. Do you think that’s fair?”

Derek grunted at his back, displeased.

The gunfire didn’t come back for a third round, and Stiles chuffed. He knew he had them.

“You?” A man’s voice called from his hiding spot. “We’ll take that deal, witch boy.”

Derek growled, but he didn’t intervene. He had faith in his mate. The thought made Stiles’ eyes shine brighter as a real smile pulled at his lips.

“Alpha,” he said over his shoulder, loud enough for the hunters to hear, “will you promise me that you will keep our pack from intervening? I have a fight to win.”

Derek grunted, “I promise you, Stiles. We won’t interfere in your fight.”

The hunters chuckled, smug that they got one over on the werewolf pack. Stiles took a few steps forward. The laughter died off as he didn’t show signs of stopping, and Stiles raised his hands, palms face up, out to the side. The rows of cages lifted off the ground and floated to the opposite walls. The hunters were revealed to him.

“Now it’s party time, boys.”

Stiles kept a shield fixed on his pack behind him as he moved forward. Newly fired bullets froze in front of him, the hunters would have to reload now. Stiles continued in his path.

He could kill them all with one gesture, just a quick flick of his fingertips, but that would be too easy. He wanted to hunt them down, to make them work for their deaths. So he did.

He went for the oldest one first, darted up to him to grab him by the neck while his nails lengthened into claws. He bared his teeth in an imitation of a smile.

“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with this.”

The hunter’s neck snapped easily under the weight of Stiles’ Grace.

The next one’s ribs gave out as Stiles’ heel ground down and snapped the bones. Stiles scoffed as another round of gunfire hit his shields. These were humans, mortals without Mother Moon’s blessings. The Adze had her blessings, which is one of the reasons the fight was so hard.

“I see why you use our creatures to do your dirty work,” he muttered as he strolled towards his next victim. The man looked terrified, but he didn’t give up. Good for him.

Stiles flexed his back muscles. He wished he could stretch out his wings, deliver the final blows with a swift spin of his top wings as his nails sliced through the hunter’s skin. But he couldn’t. So he settled for the next best thing.

“ Kneel ,” he commanded with Grace infused words.

The man dropped to his knees with a thunk. His gun fell to the floor. He looked up at Stiles with wide eyes, his mouth opening like he was going to start praying.

Stiles tore out his throat without a second thought. He had no time for useless prayer.

Three more to go. Among them was Jason Fowler, the hunter that had let the Adze loose in Hale territory. Stiles would save him for last.

The next hunter fell to a flick of magic that flung him up to the roof and cracked his skull on the pavement.

Two more now.

This one actually got out a few words before Stiles severed his head from his neck. Nice try, buddy,

Now, Jason Fowler.

Stiles watched as the man ran to a wall of cages and started opening them. He laughed.

“They’ll kill you long before they kill me, Jason Fowler.”

It was true. Stiles had enough Grace to stop any creature less powerful than an Adze in its tracks. The human man was just creating more obstacles for himself. Silly mortal.

An ungulate shifter crept out of her cage, joints bent in an unnatural way. Stiles chuffed at the sight of her. Her magic was cracked but not yet shattered. She could be healed. He watched as she locked eyes with the creature in the cage next to her, the gargoyle. It stretched its leathery neck and huffed a stream of fire.

Fire was a horrible way to go. Stiles wouldn’t use fire to kill, he couldn’t do that to his mate. The stench of smoke would haunt him.

The gargoyle and the shifter stared up at Stiles, magic in their eyes. They would follow his lead.

He looked up to see Jason Fowler running from him. So he gave chase. The creatures followed close behind him. It felt good to run after his prey after so long of being stagnant. As a Kisantus he was a creature of the dark, but he didn’t hunt like most of Mother Moon’s creatures did. The instinct was there even if he didn’t give in to it.

But now he could give in. He could stalk after his prey with his alpha’s permission and rip its throat out with his teeth.

Normally Kisantus kept themselves away from their primal instincts, but Stiles was something else now. He was human and Kisantus together. He could indulge in such primal things as ripping out his prey’s throat with his teeth.

Now that he was thinking about it, he really liked that idea.

He tackled the hunter and pinned him to the concrete, teeth hovering over the soft skin of Jason’s throat. The man screamed, and Stiles let go of his inhibitions. He bit and tore.

He lost himself in the haze of instinct and rage. How dare this human come into his territory and hurt his people! His feathers fluffed as he shook in potent rage. How dare any human hurt any of Mother Moon’s creatures! He wanted to devour the man below him, tear him apart until nothing was left but the scrap of light that represented his soul.

Wait. Stiles blinked back to himself. His feathers?

He pushed himself up to his knees. The tang of blood overwhelmed his senses, but he cleared his mind enough to notice the extra weight on his back.

He flicked his top wings to push himself to his feet. His wings… But how?

The gargoyle circled around him to dig its snout into the body of Jason Fowler. The shifter pawed at Stiles’ leg. Stiles looked down at her and chuffed, his hand finding the top of her head and rubbing behind her extended ear.

“How is this happening, little one?” he whispered. His bottom wings fluttered and turned him to face his pack.

They stared at him in awe. He knew what he looked like, six wings so dark they were almost black, blood covering his face and neck, clothes torn from stray bullets, and the bloody bandage hanging from his arm.

He met Derek’s red eyes.

“ Hundir-kai ,” he pleaded. He was scared, terrified that this meant Mother Moon was calling him back to Kistousun. He could tell from his pack’s faces they were thinking the same thing.

Derek met him in the middle of the open space and folded him into his arms. The wolf snuffled against Stiles’ bloody neck. It was a reassurance and a prayer all in one. Stiles dropped his wings to wrap around them both.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to go,” Derek’s rough voice growled into his skin.

Wind streamed through the open door to flit through Stiles’ feathers. He smelled the faint scent of Grace carried with it. Was this it? Was this his time to leave his pack?

“ Oh, Moonis ,” the sweet voice of the Mother crooned in the shifting of the leaves, “ You will live a full life here in Kisshoksa. Mother Earth has decided to reward you for your sacrifice by giving you back your wings, the part of your past you miss the most .”

Tears slid down his face to gather in the divot of Derek’s collarbone. He gasped against warm skin.

“Thank you,” he sobbed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you all.”

Mother Earth had blessed him. The Mother that had weaved the web of fate itself had given him back his wings. She never interfered when it wasn’t important. Why did she take action now? What was so important about him that the Mother that ruled Moon and Sun interfered with fate?

His feathers ruffled as his pack approached, and he opened his wings to enclose them in with Derek. He needed them close.

“I’m staying, Derek. I’m staying.”

“You’re staying.”

Some amount of time later, time that felt like an hour while also spanning only seconds, they would pull themselves together. They would call Chris to come and clean up the warehouse. They would free the creatures and rehabilitate them in the Preserve.

They would relax and find warmth in each other. The Sheriff and Ms. McCall would cook them a homemade dinner and the pack would pile onto each other in exhaustion.

Stiles and Derek would get officially mated, each carrying bite marks on their necks. The Hale Pack would reach out to other packs in North America as Chris contacted the various hunting families he still had ties with. They would start an alliance that would change the way hunters viewed the supernatural.

The Hale Alphas would adopt three children. Two wolves and a human, all with alpha red eyes that would appear as soon as their pack bonds solidified. It would be unheard of, a legend that passed throughout the world.

But for now, they stood there and breathed. They held each other. The safety enclosed in Stiles’ wings reassured them of their place in the universe.