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Stiles walked into his office with Hound at his heels, the dog not yet fully grown but out of the tripping over it's feet stage. Hound scooted under his desk, used to where his home was in the office, red eyes shining out from the dark.
He wasn’t surprised by the amused smirk on Peter’s lips as he came into Stiles office file in hand.
“What have they done to deserve him, this time?”
“I never did thank you for the caddy, did I? Tea?” The smirk that came with those words was probably more than enough to answer that question. And given Peter’s own smirk deepened he would guess there was something more than a little vicious about his.
Yes, he was being an asshole, and he would be the first to admit if he was pushed but right at this moment it felt good to be petty. It wasn’t as though he was courting all out war or even anything close to it with his pack it was more of a prank. A semi-spiteful one maybe but still a prank.
Only Peter, really, knew what occasionally caused them to feel uncomfortable round him, even Lydia hadn’t quite got a handle on what it was. And if Parrish knew he wasn’t saying though given the smiles that Stiles got he wouldn’t be surprised.
They’d worked out between them that the reason Peter could see Hound probably due to the Ghost Riders which had left Peter with another set of shadows to follow him around.
Shadows that were these wisps of smoke that seemed to follow everyone. Shadows that added to Peter’s edge. That edge that made most people look over their shoulder as Peter left the room just to make sure he was leaving and not stood behind them knife in hand. An edge that made him just that little more attractive in Stiles opinion, not that he really needed any help in that area.
Stile knew he had too many shadows of his own to-do more than really admire the view. Shadows that occasionally made him feel as though only the threads of his pack bonds and those to his Dad gave him enough to hold on. Enough to keep him from fading from this world. It was only happened rarely these days, but it still happened.
And then Hound would jump all over him and everything was fine again.
Then there was the risk of why Hound had had followed him, though it didn’t say much about the Ghost Riders if they could lose a puppy. Not surprising really considering that they couldn’t hold on to their erased, not that he’d wanted to be held on too.
The research he’d done when Hound first appeared all red eyes, white fur, red tips and falling over red feet that were way too big for him had triggered something. Something buried deep in his mom's family history, something that had brought them an unexpected visitor.
Apparently, having changeling blood in your veins was not something to be proud of. And being related to Gwyn ap Nudd was an even bigger no no. Which made no sense at all, ‘specially given how pissed off Gwyn had been about what had been going on in Beacon Hills.
Things had been set in motion in Beacon Hills at that time that couldn’t have been changed. Even the king of the Fair Folk and the leader of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t mess with Fate’s hand. But after all that was said and done, there was a reason that Beacon Hills had been a little quieter on the supernatural front. It wasn’t as though Gwyn ap Nudd’s reputation wasn’t well deserved, he made the Argents look like kinder garden kids having a tantrum.
As he passed Peter his mug Scott stuck his head round the door, which had Hound crawling out from under the desk to sniff Scott’s shoes causing the Alpha to shudder.
“You okay?” The offer of tea made with the lifting of his mug.
“Just someone walking over my grave.” Scott, accept the idea of tea with a nod of his head coming into the office not even noticing as he moved round Hound.
Maybe it was petty to use the infernal to get back at his pack for making him feel like shit. But then again Fae blood rang true even if the only people who knew that were him, his Dad and Gwyn himself.