Chapter Text
6 YEARS AGO
Stiles was practicing his magic when it started. First it was just a headache that caused him to drop the pillow that had been flowing through the room. He cursed and closed his eyes, trying to heal himself with his magic. He smiled when it disappeared but the smile tuned into a frown when the headache was replaced with a burning pain in his chest. Gasping, he fell to his knees before crying out in pain.
Then suddenly it was gone. Stiles just sat on the ground for a few seconds, catching his breath. He knew exactly what had happened. He also knew what he had to do now. Holding back tears he stood up and made his way to the basement.
He made sure to properly close the door before sitting down on the floor. Concentrating on his magic he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Stiles then started to chant a spell only nephilims could do.
Four hours later Sheriff Stilinski came home to find the house way to quiet. He immediately walked to the basement and opened the door. He would never forget what he saw next. His stepson lay on the floor in a puddle of blood, two massive wounds on his back and right next to him lay a man with two massive golden wings on his back.