The Virtue of Corruption Verse
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Summary
The seats were hard vinyl connected to metal poles and harsh grating. Two years ago Stiles would have never imagined himself in this situation, but two years ago his father had still been alive and the things that went bump in the night belonged only in his nightmares. Now it was almost laughable, the guard up front, the cuffs on his wrists, the sway to and fro of the armoured prison transport chugging through the morning mist.
Series
- Part 1 of The Virtue of Corruption Verse
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It took all of Derek's strength to stomp down instinct and tamper desire. His wolf wanted nothing more than to press teeth deep into Stiles flesh, sink in and change, claim further than he'd ever dared before. He wouldn't though, because Stiles had him wrapped around his human fingers, all sweet smelling lust and tainted innocence. At one time he'd smelled of summer, thick and warm like fresh grass and sunshine. Now his scent carried hints of midnight and damp earth, too much time spent chasing shadows and burying guilt to be clean. Derek didn't know if he missed the old or reveled in the new. But at least, if nothing else, Stiles smelled like the pack, like Derek, like he belonged. They were the rejects of society, unwanted and judged, but they had each other.
Sequel to 'Death of Morality'
Series
- Part 2 of The Virtue of Corruption Verse