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Derek entered the house after his morning run. Yanking his shirt off, he tossed it over the end of the railing and headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water. His steps faltered as he reached the refrigerator. Sniffing the air, he frowned. Something smelled off, but he couldn’t put his finger on precisely what. He started to move about the kitchen to see if it grew stronger but was distracted by the sound of the front door opening and his mate shouting for help.
Racing out to the foyer, already wolfed out, he skidded to a stop when he saw Stiles standing in the doorway loaded down with reusable grocery bags. Shaking his head, he pulled back the shift and reached for a majority of the bags. He carried them into the kitchen, listening to Stiles ramble about what he was planning to make for dinner that night.
The remainder of their guests that evening sent Derek’s mind into overdrive. A small pack from Oregon had been run out of their territory by a group of hunters. After their Alpha had been killed, they began traveling south to seek refuge. While out collecting supplies the previous day, Stiles had stumbled upon the group of less than a dozen hiding in the Preserve. He’d immediately shown them to the deserted cabins on the edge of the Preserve and invited them to dinner.
It was the right move as Alpha Mate and Emissary for the Hale Pack, but it still made Derek nervous about having an unknown pack in his territory and home. He felt Stiles’ hand on his shoulder. “They’re a young pack, Der. They’re scared and alone without their Alpha. Even if we don’t bring them into our pack, we can help them.”
Derek knew Stiles was right, but something bothered him, nagging at the back of his mind. He was about to express his mystery concern when Stiles dropped a bag of flour on the floor, the white powder exploding up, out, and all over Derek. It stuck to Derek’s still sweaty form, and Stiles fell into the mess, laughing and pointing at Derek. The only good thing was that Stiles' laughter kept him from pulling out his phone and snapping photos.
He whipped around when he heard someone in the doorway, fangs out and a roar on his lips in time to see Erica holding her camera up, a wicked smile on her face. “This is going on YouTube.” Derek gave her a look. “Kidding, but it’s definitely going to the pack,” she said, squealing and running out of the room as Derek gave chase.
He slammed the front door behind her when she escaped outside. Turning, he trudged up the stairs to the bathroom, overdue for a shower. He could hear Stiles cleaning up the kitchen, and he felt a moment of guilt for not giving him a hand. “Go shower,” he heard Stiles say. “I’ve got this, but you’re on potato peeling duty.”
Chuckling at how well his mate knew him, he closed the bathroom door behind himself and turned on the shower. He dropped his flour-coated sweats into the hamper and started to get cleaned off.
By the time the visiting pack appeared in the clearing in front of the house, the overwhelming aroma of garlic and oregano filled the house. Derek’s stomach growled, knowing that Stiles must be making his famous lasagne. Sniffing again, Derek wondered at the slightly sweeter underlying smell, assuming it must be the fresh basil Stiles started growing in the small greenhouse he’d built behind the house.
Dressing quickly, he headed downstairs to see if he could be any help to Stiles, only to be chased out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. Laughing, he headed into the library, pulling down a couple of his mother’s books that had survived the fire. They were texts about pack politics written by former Alphas, and he recognized his mother’s handwriting in the margins of a few of them.
Lost in her words, the day passed without him noticing. He smiled up at Stiles when he brought in a small tray with a couple of sandwiches and a glass of iced tea around lunchtime. He tilted his head back for a kiss before getting lost in his book again. The sun started to set, casting the room in shadows when Derek heard Stiles call to him to get ready for dinner.
Sighing, Derek rose and headed up to the master bedroom. He could hear the rest of the pack moving around the house, busy with their own activities. It was fortunate that nearly everyone happened to be in town when this happened. The more pack members surrounding him, the stronger Derek looked and felt. It was just a shame that Scott was away at a veterinary conference and couldn’t stand with him as co-Alpha.
Changing into an azure henley that he knew Stiles loved, as well as the jeans his mate claimed made him strut like the sexy Alpha he is. Derek’s ears warmed at the memory of Stiles’ words, and he took a few deep breaths before leaving the room and making his way downstairs. His foot touched the bottom step just as a knock sounded at the front door.
Stiles hurried out of the kitchen, drying his hands off on a towel. He quickly shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans and stood next to Derek. The rest of the pack fell in around him as he reached to open the door. Only three ‘wolves stood on the porch, a young man and two women. They couldn’t be any older than seventeen, and Derek had a flash of familiarity as he was reminded of himself and his sister after the fire.
“Welcome to my home,” he greeted. “I’m Alpha Derek Hale.” He held his hand out, and the young man took it in his own.
“Thank you, Alpha Hale, to you and your mate, as well as the rest of your pack, for inviting us. My name is Nick Markum, and these are my sisters, Nina and Naomi.” The girls nodded at their names, Naomi going so far as to give a little wave.
“I was under the impression there was more to your pack,” Derek said, keeping his voice soft.
Nick nodded. “The older members of the pack have moved on,” he explained, looking apologetic. “They feel we are still too close to our home for comfort.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?” Stiles asked, stepping forward and nudging Derek out of the way to allow the Markums to enter the house. Isaac stepped forward to take their coats and the water bottle that Nina carried with her. She shook her head and held onto it.
“We were curious about your pack,” Naomi said. “We’ve heard of the pack led by two Alphas.” She glanced around the room.
“My apologies for Scott’s absence,” Derek said. “He is away at the moment but should be returning soon.”
All three ‘wolves offered their necks in a show of respect, and Derek nodded his head in acceptance. He gestured towards the dining room, and their guests followed Stiles to the chairs he indicated. As Nina passed, Derek’s nose twitched, and his brain tried to identify why but was distracted by the pack rearranging chairs to make up for the fewer number of guests.
Once everyone settled into their seats, Stiles directed the betas to bring out the food. Erica and Kira brought out salad while Boyd and Isaac carried out four huge trays of lasagne. Liam and Mason followed with a plate of garlic bread. Lydia and Jackson rounded out the pack bringing out several bottles of wine and two pitchers of water.
“Everything smells amazing,” Derek told Stiles, who ducked his head with whispered words of gratitude. The others echoed the praise, and Stiles wove his hands in the air and told them all to hush.
Derek took the first bite, followed by Stiles and then Boyd. The Markums ate next, followed by everyone else. Derek was pleased with his pack and their behavior despite being unused to proper pack interactions.
After a few bites, Derek felt a tickle in his throat and coughed to clear it. Before long, he noticed that all of the ‘wolves at the table were doing the same, reaching for glasses of water and downing them. “Stiles, did you do something different with the lasagne?”
Stiles frowned and shook his head. “Other than using the fresh herbs from the garden instead of storebought, there is nothing different.” He looked worried when Jackson paled, slapping a hand over his mouth and bolting from the room. Derek could hear him retching, and from the looks on the faces of the others, he wasn’t the only one.
Liam ran out next. Mason stood to follow him but didn’t appear to be suffering any ill effects. Derek swallowed another gulp of water and opened his mouth to speak when Naomi fell out of her chair onto the floor. Nina jumped to her feet and leaned over her, rolling her to her back and gasping. Black oozed from Naomi’s mouth.
“She’s been poisoned,” Naomi declared. She looked at everyone who was coughing. “We’ve all been poisoned!”
“No,” Stiles said. “There’s no way! I made all of the food-”
“Then you poisoned us!” Naomi shouted, turning on him. “You attacked our pack. The punishment is death!”
Derek shakily rose to his feet, leaning one hand on the table as he moved between Stiles and the woman. “Yet, you seem to be perfectly fine.” She paused in her ranting. “You are a ‘wolf, and you ate the same food that we all did, but you aren’t…” He trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over him.
Stiles laid a hand on his back, rubbing gently before stepping around Derek. “Where is your water bottle?”
Lydia snatched it from the chair Nina had vacated and held it to her nose. Her face grew thoughtful as she sniffed. Grabbing a glass of water off the table, she emptied the glass and poured the water bottle contents into it. A slightly green glow emanated from the liquid.
Nina tried to grab the glass, but Kira stepped in with her katana holding her back just as Nick leaned over the table, holding his stomach and groaning. Black coated his lips when he looked up at them.
“I don’t know what that is, but I’m guessing it’s an antidote to whatever is in the food,” Lydia said, handing the glass to Stiles, who held it to Derek’s lips and encouraged him to take a sip.
Derek felt the liquid run down his throat. The cure wasn’t instantaneous, but he could feel an improvement. “Give some to Nick and Naomi before the rest of the Pack.”
Stiles nodded even as the others protested. Watching, he saw Stiles give each of the Markums a sip. “Tell us what you did,” Derek growled at Nina.
“Screw you,” she said, yelping when Kira used her blade to slice off a lock of hair from the right side of Nina’s head.
“Tell us,” Derek said, moving forward. He considered threatening the others but had a feeling that their lives didn’t matter very much to Nina. He froze when he got closer to her. The identity of the strangeness of her scent stood out. He had smelled her earlier in the kitchen. “You were in my home. My kitchen.”
Stiles gasped and handed the glass to Lydia, who hurried over to Erica and Boyd, who were leaning into each other. Stiles hurried from the room. Derek could hear the pots on the windowsill clattering. “You bitch!” Stiles cried out, rushing into the room, his hands filled with dirt dotted with blue. “She poisoned my plants. I watered them when I got back this morning, and the poison must’ve traveled up the roots!” He threw the dirt in Nina’s face. “You poisoned my Pack and yours!”
“You attacked my pack,” Derek said, pulling himself up to full stature. “The punishment is death.”
“Don’t,” Naomi whimpered from the floor. Derek looked down and found her complexion improved. She pushed herself up to her elbows. “We don’t have much pack left.”
Derek understood. He remembered hesitating before he’d killed Peter the first time. He also knew that he could not let this woman hurt his pack ever again. He also knew what Scott would say if he were here. “Fine. She can live,” he said. “However, she is to leave my territory and never return. If she sets foot on my territory again, she forfeits her life.”
Nick groaned out an agreement and struggled to his feet, stopping when Stiles laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You and Naomi are welcome to stay, at least until you are strong enough to travel.” Nina started to speak, and Kira lopped off another lock of hair.
Nick fell back into his chair while Kira used the tip of her blade to push Nina towards the door. “I’ll make sure she leaves,” Kira said.
Derek nodded, and as soon as the door shut, Derek fell to his knees on the ground. His false bravado exhausted him, and despite the antidote, the wolfsbane had weakened him. Looking up at Stiles, hurrying around to care for the pack and their visitors, he allowed himself to slip into darkness.
Derek awoke in his own bed, feeling stronger. His head still pounded, and he imagined that he was experiencing something similar to a hangover in humans. He struggled to sit up against the pillows and looked around the room. Stiles’ side of the bed sat untouched. Frowning, Derek glanced toward the open door of the bedroom, flaring his nostrils and sneezing. The strong scent of bleach flooded the house.
Pushing himself out of bed, he kept one hand out for balance and made his way to the stairs. He passed the spare bedroom and looked inside to see Nick and Naomi sleeping. He tried to step closer and hit a wall. He smiled down at the line of mountain ash in the doorway. He continued to the stairs, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible, but his senses were still overwhelmed.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he heard his mate’s frantic heartbeat and followed it into the dining room to find Stiles on his hands and knees scrubbing down the legs of the chairs. He muttered under his breath as he worked, and the scent of salty tears began to overpower the cleaning solutions. Stepping up behind Stiles, he laid a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing until he looked up at him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, gentling his voice when he saw the dark circles under Stiles’ eyes, and he wondered just how long he’d been unconscious.
“Making sure there are no other poisons in this house that I missed,” Stiles told him, scrubbing harder at the chair in front of him. “I nearly killed my own pack. I’m so stupid.” He dropped the rag into the bucket of water next to him and ran a hand over his face.
Derek’s eyes widened at the blood he saw on the back of Stiles’ hands, each of his knuckles cracked and bleeding. When Stiles reached for the rag again, Derek stopped him with a hand wrapped around his wrist. Ignoring Stiles’ protests, he picked him up and carried him up the stairs, feeling him relax in his hold the higher up they got.
He headed straight through the bedroom into the en suite, setting him on the counter while he filled the oversize bathtub with warm water and the sweet-smelling bubbles that Stiles favored and Derek typically eschewed. Turning back, he stripped off Stiles’ clothing, smirking at the tired eyebrow wiggle Stiles gave him.
Picking his naked form up, he set Stiles into the water and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Relax,” he ordered.
Stiles shook his head but sank a bit deeper into the bubbles. “Have to protect the pack. Nearly killed them,” he muttered as his eyes began to drift shut.
“You didn’t harm the pack on purpose,” he said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You were tricked like the rest of us. The only person at fault is Nina.” Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but Derek laid a hand over it. “Relax. I’ll go clean up downstairs and get you something to eat.”
“No food,’ Stiles said. “Threw it all out.”
Derek raised his eyebrows. “ All of it?” Stiles nodded. Derek groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Guess I’m going grocery shopping.”
“No spices,” Stiles muttered, and Derek had to hurry to keep him from slipping beneath the water. He decided to put off going shopping until he got Stiles dried off and into bed. He hadn’t expected him to pass out quite so quickly.
Draining the water, he wrapped Stiles in a fluffy towel and carried him into the bedroom. Tucking him underneath the softest blankets, he pressed another kiss to his forehead before standing. He stepped away from the bed, stopping when Stiles’ hand darted out and grabbed his wrist.
“ No spices ,” Stiles told him, eyes serious.
Derek agreed, knowing there would be no arguing with Stiles when he was still blaming himself for something that was out of his control. As Stiles relaxed against the pillows and fell back to sleep, Derek made a check on the rest of the Pack and prepared himself and them for months of bland food.