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“No, I’m not hurt,” Stiles said, only to betray himself with an involuntary whimper after a twisting cramp. “Why do you even care? Last week I asked you to help me jump-start my Jeep and you said, and I quote: ‘Fuck off, Stiles, I’m just your landlord.’”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re not dying, Stiles.”
“I’m not dying, okay!?” Stiles shouted. “I’m turning into an omega! Your omega, apparently.”
First Derek looked confused; then angry, scared, annoyed, and finally, confused again.
“That’s impossible.”
“Yeah? Tell that to the fucking vagina I’m growing, dude!”
