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Stiles hated his pack. Maybe because it wasn’t his pack. He hadn’t chosen it, hadn’t expressed any desire to be a part of it. He never even heard about this pack before its Alpha decided to decimate Stiles’ family –his original pack– and keep the young Beta. Stiles’ one and only luck was that he had been too young at the time of his capture for the Alpha to mate him.
But this happened a year ago. Now Stiles was of age, and more determined than ever to escape his fate. He could see the Alpha’s lecherous stares when the pack gathered around the fire at night, could smell his hunger when they hunted. What used to be a matter of months shrank down to a matter of days.
Stiles wouldn’t go down without a fight. He wouldn’t go down, period. For a long time, he planned on killing the Alpha. Yes, that would be very satisfying to feel his blood under his fangs –or his hands, depending on how he proceeded. But murder wouldn’t do. Stiles would never manage to both kill the Alpha and escape the pack. The reasonable voice in him whispered he wouldn’t even scratch the Alpha, who was older, bigger and stronger.
Therefore, Stiles had to flee. Run away while the others hunted, since they didn’t always take him with them. Or disappear in the dead of the night when they settled near a river. Stiles was willing to swim for hours if it meant covering his scent –and his tracks. At this point, anything would be better than staying with this pack.
“Soon, my ill-tempered mate, you’ll be fully mine,” the Alpha had whispered to him three days ago.
The promise had sent shivers down Stiles’ spine and strengthened his determination. He had to leave before the monster could put an ugly mating scar on his nape. They weren’t close to any waterway, but Stiles couldn’t wait anymore. He would escape after their next big hunt so that he had a full belly. Alone and on the run, he wouldn’t get many opportunities to eat.
Or he could wait until his so-called pack got attacked by another pack, because this was going to happen soon. Stiles didn’t believe his ears when one of the Alpha’s scouts came back panting and wide-eyed this morning, claiming he had spotted tracks of a large pack. Close tracks, a little deeper in the woods.
“The Hale pack,” the scout babbled, again and again. “It’s the Hale pack!”
Stiles had no idea who that was. They were too far North from his home, he didn’t know any pack around here. However, judging from the Betas’ grunts and hurried whispers, he would bet this was a pack they had problems with before. If the Hale pack was there for revenge, perfect. Stiles approved. But he wouldn’t stay to see it happen. Firstly because he didn’t want to fight for an Alpha he despised, and secondly because he was too aware of what an Alpha’s mate became when a rival pack attacked and won. If his current Alpha got killed, Stiles would belong to Alpha Hale.
And he might not be the Alpha’s mate yet, but he had his smell all over him. The werewolves would guess his purpose straight away. Stiles would make everyone’s life easier by running away. As the Alpha barked orders to his Betas, Stiles shifted in wolf form and sneaked out of his tent. The others were too far and busy to notice him. He understood why: a massive black wolf stood on the hill above them. Although the rest of the pack was out of sight, Stiles could smell them. If they were the same size as their leader, Stiles definitely didn’t want to meet them, with his lanky limbs and not fully grown body.
The black wolf howled, pacing on the hill. For a split second, Stiles thought he turned his red eyes to him, but that was impossible. He stood too far away. Still, he couldn’t mistake the chorus of howls answering the wolf. That was his cue to leave. Wishing his never-to-be Alpha a long and painful death, Stiles turned away to disappear into the woods. A wiser wolf would go for a measured running pace that would carry him far, but he was too scared for wisdom. He pushed as fast as he managed. Not fast enough to avoid hearing the packs attacking each other.
Stiles pushed the sounds at the back of his mind and extended his stride. At least his long legs helped covering a wide distance with less effort. He paused twice when he couldn’t go on anymore, the second after hours since he caught a glimpse of the black wolf. If Stiles was lucky, either the Hale pack hadn’t picked on his scent, or they didn’t care. He settled on a small trot. He had to find some water, then a hideout for the night. And after that, a way to survive as an Omega, since that’s what he just became.
Stiles put his worries aside as he got closer to a stream. He sprawled the first half of his body into the water, giving some rest to his hurting legs and burning lungs. He couldn’t even describe how pleasurable it felt to finally have water soothing his dry throat.
He heard the howl while he took a deep, calming breath. His whole body stiffened. This was an Alpha’s howl. Not the one who had captured him, he would recognize him. This had to be the black wolf, which meant Hale pack had won and came for the prize. Stiles whined, pushing himself on shaking legs. The pack closed on him, he knew it. Using water to hide his smell wouldn’t help him much. Neither would running –walking pained him already.
He tried anyway, until he saw a grey wolf rushing past him on his left, taking a wide turn to place himself in front of Stiles. The smaller wolf growled, jumping above the stream to change his course. He found another wolf there, a white one. He could hear a third wolf on the left again, and one right behind him. He was stuck.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to find a way out. Stiles slowed down, one, two strides and came to an abrupt stop to spin on his hind legs. The brown wolf running behind almost barreled into him, jumping aside at the last second to avoid Stiles. He still couldn’t avoid his jaws, which Stiles tightened on the closest surface available –a leg– with vicious pleasure. The wolf howled, more in surprise than true pain, and hit faster than Stiles anticipated. His fangs buried themselves deep in Stiles’ shoulder, tearing an angry bark out of him, as well as a bit of flesh.
However, before Stiles managed to wriggle away, a large, black mass pushed into the brown wolf and sent it rolling a few feet aside. The Alpha. Of course he would want the kill for himself. He growled as he towered above the cowering brown wolf. The other two wolves stopped running around, as if the Alpha also addressed his scolding to them. Stiles seized the opportunity to jump away, but he only managed to trip on his hurt leg and sprawl into the stream, graceful as ever, so hard that the resulting splash reached the Alpha and his brown Beta. It put an end to the growling, but ominous silence couldn’t be a good sign either. Despite himself, Stiles plastered his body into the water, trying to appear as small as possible.
The Alpha turned his whole body towards him and upon a sign Stiles didn’t catch, all his Betas placed themselves in a loose circle around the stream. Escape was fully out of question now. Stiles bared his fangs as the Alpha stepped forward. Perhaps he could get a good bite out of him too before dying. He growled louder while the Alpha approached, his legs tensing under him, and then… the black wolf shifted. Stiles found himself faced with a muscular man with green eyes a total opposite from the Alpha red ones. Much softer. The man crouched in front of him within arm length, totally oblivious of his own nudity. Stiles almost was too.
“Well, for something so puny, you sure know how to make noise and trouble,” the man declared.
Stiles’ growl died in his throat. He expected a death threat, or some statement about how he was the man’s new property. But no, this was only insulting. He lowered his ears, fangs still very visible. The man sighed, the hint of a smirk stretching his lips. Another insult.
“You know you lost this fight, right? A fight you started, by the way.”
Stiles barked in protest. This had to be the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. The Alpha held his hands out, shrugging.
“I understand how you could mistake our intent, and I apologize for this, but we weren’t looking for a fight with you. I know you fled before we attacked. These wolves weren’t really your pack, were they? No wolf I know would leave their pack in such circumstances.”
And this was the most accurate declaration to leave the Alpha’s mouth until now.
“We killed all of them.” There was no apology in the man’s voice, nor in his eyes. Stiles met his stare without blinking. “I feel like you’re not too sorry either about their demise. Good, we agree on something then. Now, what about you? You can become an Omega and try to live on your own until another pack takes you. Or you can come with us. Whatever your life was with your previous pack, I can guarantee it will be better now.”
Stiles’ ears flicked upwards on their own accord, prompting a smile from the Alpha. He shouldn’t get his hopes up though –even a nice speech won’t convince Stiles so easily. He was intrigued, nothing more. Why would a pack trail him for hours just to invite him? That required a lot of effort for an unsure result. On the other hand, they didn’t have to welcome Stiles. They could force him if they wanted. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the Alpha. Perhaps he had guessed his intent: trick a lost Beta into thinking he had a choice.
“We’ll stay at your old pack’s camp for several days. You can meet us there if you want.”
The Alpha shifted back into his wolf body and left, his Betas following, trotting calmly as if he hadn’t ruined Stiles’ perfect plan –surviving alone. Now he felt torn between that possibility and another one, much more appealing. Finding a new pack, a real pack. This new hope made everything worse.
Stiles glanced at the retreating pack. Then he tested his shoulder. It had healed. He could wait a bit longer to catch his breath and after that he would be able to go on his own way. Or follow the Hale pack from a safe distance.
***
Derek and the pack were greeted back to their camp by the smell of burning bodies and the sight of an exasperated Peter.
“Nephew,” he exclaimed, “had fun running into the woods while your old uncle did all the dirty work?”
Derek rolled his eyes, pushing into the tent Peter and Cora had set up for him to shift in peace. A very relative peace, since Peter stationed himself behind the bear skin serving as a door and kept complaining.
“Seriously, Derek, having me and your sister setting the camp, getting rid of the assholes’ bodies while you took the rest of the pack on a chase… Back in my day, no one would have even thought of it.”
Derek shifted and counted to ten before he spoke up.
“As I already told you, it wasn’t a chase, uncle.”
“See, you can’t appreciate life’s real fun. That’s why I should have gone.”
Derek shrugged a tunic on and got out of the tent, flapping the bear skin against his uncle’s face on the way.
“No,” he replied, “that’s exactly why you stayed here.”
“Was it worth it at least? Did you catch you little rabbit?”
Derek rolled his eyes and looked at the tree line.
“Oh no, you didn’t brought him back? Don’t tell me you’re still clinging on your free-will nonsense. That’s not how you expand a pack.”
“Peter. Free-will is how Boyd, Erica and Isaac joined us.”
“Joking, that’s all. I don’t want to end up with the still-burning bodies of the asshole pack. But I wished you had better convincing skills. That little runt smelled nice.”
“Don’t be rude,” Derek sighed. He scanned the tree line until he spotted a small, grey shape slithering between two bushes. He had smelled the little wolf following them hours ago, yet it was still nice to have some visual confirmation. He flashed his uncle a winning smile. “Who said I didn’t convince him?”
Derek turned his attention back to the grey wolf, knowing his uncle would follow his gaze. The wolf was barely visible, rolled into a ball behind the greenery. The Alpha wished he would come closer, itched to join him and offer him a place by their fire. But it would only frighten him.
“Oh, I see,” Peter snorted. “Hiding at the other side of the clearing. In a month he’ll be daring enough to join us.”
“With you around, he will need a year, uncle” Cora said behind them. Derek stifled a laugh as she placed herself between him and his uncle, focused as much as them on the grey wolf’s hideout. “Honestly, no one could blame him,” she added.
“Boring, both of you,” Peter groaned.
Derek reached around Cora to pat his uncle’s arm. From what he had seen of the little wolf’s temper, he was likely to get along well with Peter –after a long period of adjustment. But Derek couldn’t tell Peter yet, or his uncle would become more out of control than he already tended to be.
“Perhaps boring, but me?” Derek said. “Still the Alpha. So when I say don’t bother this wolf, I expect you to obey. Which also means no talking.”
Derek made sure of that, all evening and until Peter went to bed. Erica suggested bringing food to the wolf at one point, but Derek wouldn’t risk him thinking of an attack if they got closer. At night, everything seemed more frightening than it truly was. In the morning, however, the beginning of a new day and in the wolf’s case maybe a new life, Derek grabbed a heavy piece of meat from the fire and made his way towards the wolf’s hideout.
“Hello,” Derek said as he kneeled in front of the bush. The wolf had retreated back several steps, but he seemed more tempted to stay than to flee. “I thought you would like breakfast.”
He put the piece of meat on the ground, stretching his arm so that the wolf wouldn’t have to come too close to grab it. Amber eyes studied him for a good minute, then the little wolf pounced, took his food and trotted away, head held high and tail moving from side to side.
“Nice catch,” Derek chuckled. “You can come and eat it with us, if you want. We’ll give you clothes and shelter.”
The wolf laid down with the meat between his front legs, glaring –glaring– at Derek.
“Okay, fine. Another day.”
The Beta, if Derek could consider him as such, huffed and sunk his teeth into the meat. At least Derek didn’t scare him enough to keep him from eating. To say the truth, he felt like he didn’t scare the Beta that much.
“Are you going to tell me your name at one point?”
The wolf gave him an incredulous look, took his meat and turned away from Derek. Laying down again, he resumed eating without paying attention to the Alpha –or rather, acting like it.
“I guess that’s a no. But I’m glad to see you’re at ease.” The wolf didn’t stop eating, but Derek grinned when he saw a grey ear flicking back towards him. “Otherwise you wouldn’t turn your back on me, I suppose.”
Even though he got a low growl as an answer, he didn’t count it as denial.
***
The Alpha and his pack went hunting in the afternoon. At first, when he saw them gathering, Stiles thought they were leaving. He jumped on his legs, the bone he chewed on forgotten. However, since they left their tents, fire and remains of their previous meal, he deduced their absence would be temporary.
After checking that all the pack was gone, Stiles took a careful step out of his bushes. Reassured, he crossed the clearing where they had settled their camp and stopped near the tents. The Alpha had one for himself, only a bit bigger than the others. Stiles paused in front of it and glanced around. He didn’t mean to intrude, just had a very curious nature. That might seem all the same to the Alpha if he smelled Stiles’ scent in his tent. And he would. If he really was as tolerant as he pretended, he wouldn’t fly into a rage because of this little territory trespassing. Yes, this was a good test.
Satisfied with his logic, Stiles slid his snout behind the bear skin and sneaked in the tent. He didn’t expect a special discovery, but certainly something more interesting than an almost empty space. There was a bed on one side, which didn’t look comfortable. Furs thrown over sticks and leaves. A table, some clothes. Nothing extraordinary.
Sighing, Stiles went back to lay down near his bushes and resigned himself to boredom until the pack returned.
***
Derek searched for the grey wolf as soon as they returned to camp, noting with delight that he didn’t lay hidden behind the bushes anymore, but in front of it, basking in the sun. Maybe Peter was wrong and it wouldn’t take the Beta a month to come near them.
The Alpha paused when he approached his tent. The new smell there was unmistakable. He turned to look at the little wolf, who stared right back at him. Totally unrepentant. He pushed the attitude to the point of stretching his whole body in the grass. Oh, if he wanted to play this kind of game, Derek wouldn’t deny him the pleasure. Forgetting his initial goal –getting dressed and taking care of the deer the pack had killed– he shifted back to wolf form.
“Derek!” Peter yelled. “We’re going to eat, no time for flirting.”
“He’s not ten anymore,” Cora mumbled on Derek’s behalf.
Knowing she was there to keep Peter busy, he made his way to the grey wolf. He had to find the appropriate space: not too slow so that he didn’t look like he was going to attack and not too fast either for the exact same reason. The Beta raised his head as Derek approached. He stood up when it became clear Derek wouldn’t stop until he reached him. With every new step, the Alpha expected him to bounce away, so much that it was a real surprise to finally stand almost nose to nose with the smaller wolf.
Derek could practically see the Beta’s muscles tense under his fur, yet the grey wolf didn’t move. He kept his bright eyes on Derek as the Alpha extended his neck to scent him. Inch by inch, Derek brought his snout closer to the Beta’s, until he felt the long whiskers on his fur. The Beta let Derek scent him for several seconds more –and Peter was right, he did smell wonderful– then sprang away as if he had been burnt, although he wouldn’t fool anyone with his high, twirling jumps.
Derek wished he had a human face to associate with this strange little wolf, who clearly displayed a wary behavior and on the other hand seemed unable to restrain his playful nature. Derek was sure the Beta was dying to join the pack but didn’t allow himself to do it yet. As for Derek, he was dying to run after him. He didn’t do it, afraid it might be too soon. Perhaps he was completely mistaking the Beta’s actions after all.
Derek’s doubts about the grey wolf's behavior vanished the following evening, when he saw glowing amber eyes not too far from where the pack had gathered to eat. The Alpha had no idea what caused this new boldness, but he wasn’t going to complain.
The day after that, he found Peter crouching in the grass near his tent. His uncle stared at something in the clearing, which turned out to be the Beta dozing under the morning sun.
“You were right for once,” Peter grinned at Derek. “It won't take a month.”
The next day, Derek woke up to the sound of something sniffing the outer side of his tent, near his bed, with an astounding lack of discretion. This couldn't be anyone of the pack. First, they had no need to do that. Second, they knew morning wasn't the best time to joke around Derek.
“You?” Derek said as he poked his head outside and found the grey wolf sitting in front of his tent. “I preferred you when you didn't want to come anywhere near us.”
His heartbeat betrayed his lie, of course. The Beta cocked his head aside, as if saying, 'Oh, really?'. His ears still looked a bit too large for his head, in the same manner his legs seemed too long for his body. Even if Derek had attempted to display some real anger, this adorable sight would have ruined everything.
“Go bother someone else. I suggest my uncle.”
The wolf huffed but less than a minute after Derek went back to bed, he heard a sleepy sound of protest from Peter's tent.
“Lurk somewhere else!” his uncle shouted. Derek didn't need to know who he was addressing. He went back to sleep with a grin.
The Alpha didn't grin two days later, when he came back to camp after a solitary hunt and found three wolves laying in the middle of the clearing, bundled against each other. That fact in itself wasn't a problem. No, what made Derek drop the fat rabbit he held between his jaws was realizing who the wolves were. The one in the middle, in particular. The little wolf, the sneaky beast who woke Derek up every morning yet barely let him scent his snout.
Here he was, outstretched on his side with Isaac behind him. Isaac. The one the grey wolf had bitten the day they found him. Even if Isaac's answering bite had been rightful, Derek still bristled at the thought. But looking at them now, it seemed nothing of the sort had ever happened. Isaac chewed on one of the wolf's ears, a front leg thrown across his neck. Meanwhile, Erica slept like a baby, head resting on the grey wolf's shoulder.
“Maybe you should go, instead of staring,” Cora declared, shaking Derek out of his thoughts. “And being jealous.”
Derek growled, which prompted a laugh from his sister. Forgetting his rabbit, he headed for the wolves with all the calm and dignity he could muster. Isaac stopped gnawing on the grey wolf's ear, watching Derek intently. Although neither of the other wolves moved, the Alpha caught the subtle change in the grey wolf's scent. Slight apprehension. Interest.
The little wolf opened a lazy eye as Derek leant above him. If it weren’t for his scent, nothing in his demeanor would reveal worry. The interest still lingered, so Derek dropped on his stomach in front of him, bringing them snout to snout. He plastered himself to the ground, paws on either side of his head and eyes fixed on the Beta, hoping he looked as open as he wanted to.
***
Stiles had wondered how the Alpha would react if he found him with two of his Betas. He hadn’t actively plotted the whole situation –it had begun as playful chasing between him and the brown wolf, then some lounging in the grass where another wolf had joined them. Stiles had thought that the Alpha’s reaction to his mingling with the pack –before he had officially welcomed the Beta into it– would tell him a lot about the man. Stiles had already noted many good signs. The Alpha gave him food without asking him to hunt, let him tease here and there. Encouraged the teasing, even. That point alone plus his perfect eyes –and other parts of his body– kind of make him look like an ideal Alpha. Well, like Stiles’ ideal of an Alpha.
He wouldn’t mind submitting to this one, who stared at him with pleading eyes, as if begging Stiles to allow him closer. It made him want to bare his neck. The desire might have changed something in his smell, because a low whine escaped the Alpha’s throat and he pawed the ground next to Stiles’ head. At that the two other Betas –who had followed their exchange closely– trotted away. As much as Stiles began to appreciate them, including the male who kept chewing his ears or biting his tail, he was grateful for the privacy. Fine, relative privacy, since the whole pack had gathered near the fire and not so subtly glanced at the Alpha and him from time to time. Stiles could picture a life with them. Even if his family hadn’t died, at one point he would have had to find a mate, which often meant a new pack. From what he had seen so far, he liked this one.
Stiles squirmed on the grass, offering his neck to the Alpha. The black wolf didn’t lunge forward, but Stiles noticed with glee the eagerness in his eyes. The Alpha didn’t get up, he wriggled on his stomach to bring himself almost flush to Stiles. He stuck his muzzle on Stiles’ neck and took a deep breath. He was at the Alpha’s mercy now, but for some reason, Stiles trusted him not to rip his throat out.
The black wolf took his time scenting him, going from the underside of Stiles’ jaw to his neck and back up again. For a while he suspected the Alpha wanted to make sure Stiles understood he was welcomed in the pack. When scenting turned to gentle, unnecessary nibbling and grooming of Stiles’ fur, he decided the Alpha just enjoyed the moment. And he personally enjoyed the mix of hesitation and restrained enthusiasm in the Alpha’s movements, so everyone was satisfied.
Almost satisfied. All at once, Stiles felt like every question he had about this pack needed an answer right now. He wanted to know their story, to actually speak with them. He wanted the Alpha to tell him his name –even though he had already heard it from other members of the pack. He had to know if when the man saw his human face, he would still want to nibble on his throat. Stiles needed these answers, now. For that he had to shift, in privacy if possible. With more haste than he meant to, he got up, leaving a puzzled Alpha sprawled on the grass. Stiles looked at the wolf’s tent, then back at him and made a high-pitched, demanding sound. The Alpha stared and him –like the rest of the pack– but no one moved. Huffing, Stiles headed for the tent and sat in front of the door. He couldn’t be clearer than that.
Or he wasn’t as clear as he believed, because the Alpha cocked his head, both ears angled towards Stiles. What if he misunderstood Stiles’ intent? The Beta snorted and pawed at the bear skin. Since no one moved yet, he pawed harder, wondering if he had to take it down for one of them to react.
“Fine, fine, no need to destroy anything.”
Stiles glanced behind him. The Alpha had shifted and almost ran to his tent, rolling his eyes. He ducked inside, obviously trying to stifle a chuckle, then came out with clothes on. He held the bear skin aside and nodded.
“There’s a tunic for you on the bed,” he told Stiles. “If you need help, ask me, okay?”
Stiles stepped inside and could hear the Alpha’s breathing behind the bear skin as he shifted. Unlike with his previous Alpha, he didn’t feel scared about it. Quite the opposite, in fact. The tunic was a little large for him, and he was dirtier than he thought, but this would have to do for now. Stiles took a deep breath. He was going to really meet the Alpha. He wasn’t scared.
“Are you okay?”
Stiles startled and sighed at himself for it.
“Uh, yeah,” he replied after clearing his throat.
“Can I come in?”
He swallowed. No need to overthink this.
“Yeah.”
***
Derek had pictured the little wolf in a hundred different ways without coming to a satisfying result. The young man awkwardly standing in the middle of his tent outshined his suppositions, and by far. First, it surprised the Alpha to note they were almost the same height. Also, these amber eyes were even brighter in a human face, something Derek didn’t think possible. Then, there was the cute nose, the beauty marks everywhere…
“Stiles.”
Derek blinked as the Beta gave him a grin halfway between embarrassed and amused.
“What’s that?”
The Alpha had never heard such a word. Perhaps they didn’t speak the same language? No, that couldn’t be. Derek had talked to him more than once and it was clear the grey wolf understood him. Said grey wolf –now turned lanky, strangely alluring young man– bit on his lips, which didn’t hide his widening grin.
“A Stiles,” the young man declared as he walked towards Derek and stopped in front of him, suddenly very serious. “A werewolf, most of the time Beta, who enjoys ferreting around and waking up grumpy Alphas early in the morning.” A proud grin stretched the werewolf’s lips. “Sounds familiar?”
Derek bit the inside of his cheeks and rolled his eyes. The Beta, Stiles, looked much too pleased with himself –Derek wouldn’t add fuel to the fire by laughing.
“You forgot to add insolence and total lack of self-preservation in your description,” the Alpha replied.
“Can’t oversell the goods,” Stiles quipped. “So? What about you?” Without concealing his interest –or without managing to– Stiles detailed every inch of Derek’s face. “Who’s the Alpha who almost gave me a heart attack just to invite me into his pack?”
“Derek.” He would have been happy to stop there and introduce Stiles to the pack, but the Beta’s disappointed pout changed his mind. “Alpha of the Hale pack. Not a great talker. Not a morning person. Reckless enough to ask unknown Betas to join his pack.”
Stiles never stopped smiling, and Derek felt his cheeks burn under his undivided attention. He stepped around the Beta to find something to do –anything that didn’t require him to stare into his captivating eyes. He settled on rummaging through his clothes, looking for warm furs that would suit Stiles. Winter days weren’t far around the corner.
“Maybe you could tell me something I don’t know,” Stiles suggested.
“Uh…” Derek grabbed a coat, studied it without real focus and pushed it aside. “I like running under the full moon.”
“All werewolves like that.” Stiles paused, then added “mated?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you mated?”
Derek cast him a glance over his shoulder. Stiles had taken quiet steps forward, creeping up on him like a mouse. He had used a casual tone, but seemed unable to conceal his impatience, chewing on his lips and leaning forward more than necessary. Why the sudden interest? Tinged with worry, as Derek could smell. Was it because of the way Derek scented him earlier? He had gotten a little carried away, which he wasn’t too proud of. He glanced at Stiles again. He didn’t move from his spot, although it seemed to require a lot of self-control. Considering how he angled his whole body towards the Alpha, he looked unlikely to be in a fight or flight state of mind. So, the worry Derek had detected might not be a bad sign, in the end.
“Are you interested?” he asked, turning to his crate of clothes.
“Me? No.”
Derek wasn’t Peter. If he was, he would point out that lying between werewolves doesn’t work often. A pup would have noticed the stutter of Stiles’ heart. The Alpha didn’t say anything and stayed focused on sorting his clothes, which allowed him to smile without Stiles noticing.
“Why do you care, then?”
“I don’t,” Stiles replied, a bit too fast. “I wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t expect anything from me on that matter, that’s all. I’m not mating material –especially for an Alpha.”
“Is this why you left the one my pack killed?”
The words left Derek’s mouth before he could think of it. He realized belatedly that he sounded sharper than he wanted to, letting his curiosity take over. He already suspected what might have led Stiles to flee, however he needed to hear it from the Beta. Derek faced the young man, a heavy cloak forgotten in his hands.
“I don’t blame you,” the Alpha added as it took in Stiles’ contrite expression. “I know what that Alpha was capable of. He and his pack attacked my sister’s a long time ago. Killed someone from her pack, tried to take her with them. I swore they wouldn’t get away with it.”
“Your sister? Cora? I thought she was a Beta.”
Apparently, Stiles had studied the pack as much as Derek suspected.
“No, my other sister, Laura.”
“You have a large family,” Stiles said in a sad tone.
Derek looked down at the cloak of white fur in his hands and swallowed to relieve the building pressure in his throat. His mother had made this cloak for him a long time ago, before she died.
“It used to be larger,” he replied. “But hunters came by and…” he shrugged. “You know how it goes.”
The Beta gave him a compassionate nod.
“The pack you destroyed killed my family.” A fierce glint lit up his eyes and he stepped closer until they almost stood chest to chest. “I’m glad you got them.” Stiles nodded again, more to himself this time. “Thank you. Alpha.”
A teasing smile –that didn’t quite reach his eyes yet– lifted the corners of his mouth. Derek had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair. He settled for a behavior more appropriate for an Alpha and draped the white cloak on Stiles’ shoulders. It fitted him perfectly. With his head held high and noble cheekbones, the little wolf reminded Derek of a prince from the tales his mother used to tell him.
Derek realized he was smiling like an idiot when Stiles chuckled.
“I told you I’m not mating material, remember? Courting gifts won’t change that.”
In total contradiction with his apparent refusal, Stiles grinned and raised the cloak until it hid his nose. Derek returned the grin.
“That’s not a courting gift.” Even though it could have been, if Stiles wanted it to. “You’ll need it when we reach Hale territory.”
“So I’m coming with you? I’m pack?”
Derek wondered how that could still be doubted. Perhaps he should have insisted on scenting and nuzzling this delicate neck.
“Of course you are. I won’t leave you at the mercy of hunters and other packs.”
“You won’t regret it.” Stiles winked. “Alpha.”
***
They would leave for Hale territory two days later. Stiles thought they would reach it maybe a few days after that, but the pack burst out laughing when he voiced his supposition. Except Derek, who pursed his lips to hide a smile.
“We’ll have to travel for weeks,” Cora explained. “We tracked your pa– well, that pack for a very long time.”
“Weeks?” Stiles gaped, starting another round of laughter.
“It would be faster as wolves, but we have things to carry so we go by foot,” Derek said.
Stiles felt his face crumple. He always crossed long distances as a wolf, even with the pack who had taken him prisoner. They also had stuff to carry around, but he didn’t help them with it, no matter how they threatened him in return. For Derek’s pack, however, he was willing to sweat a bit. And to travel by foot, although it made him cringe inside.
“I saw your sleds,” Stiles replied. “I knew we would walk as humans, it’s just… weeks,” he sighed.
“Speaking about that, this one is yours.” Derek gestured towards the various sleds near their tents, then pointed at a small one.
“Why is it the smallest sled?” Stiles protested.
Peter chuckled around the apple he was eating. Stiles’ glare only intensified his delight.
“Because you’re the smallest one here,” the werewolf declared, a drop of apple juice trickling down his chin.
“And you’re the oldest one,” Stiles retorted. “Look, you’re already drooling.”
He noticed how bad he could offend Derek’s uncle the moment the words left his mouth. This pack might be more than friendly with him, they didn’t know each other that much. Maybe not enough for Peter to tolerate Stiles’ sarcasm. The older werewolf raised his eyebrows higher than Stiles had ever seen and threw his head back as he let out a roaring laugh.
“You have a small sled because you have less stuff to bring with you,” Derek explained, unable to contain his grin.
That was true. Apart from the clothes the pack gave him and a few furs, Stiles didn’t have anything else. It didn’t matter though –since he was part of the pack, he could carry some of their belongings too.
“And because we’re all twice bigger than you,” Peter added.
The young Beta bared his teeth at the same time Derek shot an annoyed look at his uncle. Stiles basked in the satisfying warmth it filled him with: he had Derek on his side, whatever Peter said. However, it wasn’t enough to keep him from setting some facts straight.
“Not all of you. Derek is twice my size,” and Stiles struggled to push away spontaneous images of Derek using his weight to pin him under his muscles, and… Stiles blinked, getting himself back on track. “Now, Boyd…” The large werewolf cast him a calm glance. He seemed to be the most even-tempered of them all, but Stiles wasn’t willing to utter some rash provocation. “Boyd, let’s say twice and a half. Cora, Erica and Isaac, almost the same. And you, Peter… once and a half. Besides, one day I’ll be taller than all of you.”
“Sure,” Peter giggled. “That day isn’t here yet.”
“Stop bothering him,” Derek sighed.
“Ah, I should have known you would defend your little mate over your uncle.”
The smirk threatening to appear on Stiles’ face vanished, replaced by awkward squirming. At least he wasn’t alone in this –Derek blushed a furious red as quiet chuckles erupted among the pack.
“He’s not…” Derek stammered, “I’m not…”
Peter bit a large chunk out of his apple and got up, radiant. Stiles glared as he walked away, hoping he would choke a little on his damn fruit. Derek turned to him, cheeks even brighter.
“I haven’t told Peter anything of the sort, about you I mean. I know you don’t… uh well, I respect what you said. About that.”
If Stiles was honest with himself, he had to admit half of him had already fallen for the Alpha’s general hotness and grumpy morning complaints, and his genuine smiles when Stiles fooled around with the pack. But now, the earnest spark in his eyes as he told Stiles he valued his wishes about mating… this was a whole new level, one Stiles didn’t know if he was able to resist.
He didn’t want to resist it. He wanted this blushing Alpha as his Alpha.
Stiles had no idea how to court an Alpha. He wasn’t supposed to initiate the courting, in fact, only to respond to it when it occurred. But that would be boring. Courting meant playing and teasing, and Derek was his favorite partner for such activities –although partner might not be the most accurate word. Let’s say Stiles teased while Derek tried to mask his interest and pleasure behind frowny eyebrows and patient smiles. He couldn’t hide them from his smell though.
Stiles dedicated himself to his new mission as soon as they left for Hale territory.
When they settled their camp at the end of the first day, he shifted and went hunting. Derek had given him food; Stiles could feed him too. Good mates did that for each other. He caught a nice rabbit which he brought back straight to Derek’s tent, trotting proudly with his tail high. It required a lot of self-control not to growl at Peter’s knowing smirk.
Derek’s face however… after Stiles dropped the rabbit at his feet, the Alpha went from surprised to sweetened, then he blushed and cast Stiles an intrigued glance. The Beta yipped and returned to his own tent, next to Derek’s. Cora had decided it would be the best location and Stiles wasn’t one for contrariness. In some cases.
The following day, while Stiles pulled his sled behind him over uneven ground, trailing after the pack and cursing whoever thought sleds were a good idea, he suddenly realized Derek had slowed down until he could walk next to him. The Alpha’s sled carried a mountain of belongings and he didn’t pant, didn’t sweat, didn’t look like his muscles protested with every new step.
“No need to remind me how I wanted a bigger sled,” Stiles groaned. “Peter took care of that. In details. For long minutes.”
“I’m not here to gloat,” Derek chuckled.
He put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder to stop him. The thin tunic did nothing to keep his warmth from reaching the Beta’s skin. Derek tapped one of the leather straps Stiles had thrown over his shoulders to pull the sled. He gently slid it off the young man’s shoulder and pushed the large cowl of the tunic to reveal chafed skin.
“You should put on thicker clothes, or the straps will keep hurting you.”
“It’s just a little redness that will disappear at the end of the day.”
Stiles only argued on principle –he didn’t mind all the attention Derek gave to such minor discomfort. He also had a few suggestions on how the Alpha could soothe his skin in very personal ways, but decided against it. Don’t scare the man.
“Still, we should do something about it,” Derek insisted.
He let go of Stiles –who almost whined in protest– to rummage through the packages stacked on his sled and got out a fur cloak, lighter than the first he had given Stiles. After rubbing with his fingertips the red mark on Stiles’ skin, the Alpha put the fur over his shoulders.
“There. It’s thick enough to protect you from the straps.”
“Soon you won’t have a single cloak left for you,” Stiles teased.
Derek smiled as he readjusted the straps on Stiles’ shoulders. They walked together until it was time to settle for the night.
***
It was frightening to see how easily Derek got used to Stiles’… he didn’t want to say courting, but that was the only word he could think off, the first thing that popped in his mind when he woke up and the last one as he fell asleep. He didn’t think about it during the day, because he spent it walking with Stiles, sometimes at the rear of the pack and other times leading it. When they trod side by side at the front, exchanging grins as they struggled with their sleds, Derek felt like a complete Alpha, leading his pack back home with his mate.
After a week, it became a habit to always have Stiles in sight. So much that when Derek came back to camp one day with wood for the fire and didn’t spot the Beta, didn’t smell him in the vicinity, his heart missed a beat. Silly, considering everyone near looked perfectly calm. Nothing had happened. Derek still had to make sure of it.
“Hunting with Cora and Isaac?” Erica suggested when he inquired about the Beta.
“No, I saw them and he wasn’t there.”
“Ah, young love,” Peter sighed from where he plucked a dead pheasant. “I believe I saw him frolicking in a clearing, gathering violets and daisies to make you a flower crown.”
Derek gave him a stern look. He didn’t have words for this.
“Fine,” Peter groaned. “He isn’t making you a crown. Yet. Now, could you be a nice nephew and bring back some water for cooking? I would go myself, but I’m a bit busy.”
Ignoring his uncle’s smirk, Derek grabbed a bucket and strode towards the river nearing their camp, eyes darting around in case he saw Stiles. No Stiles, nowhere.
“Please don’t get into trouble,” Derek muttered.
He was struggling to convince himself everything was right when he reached the river. There, he noticed several clothes on a low branch and his former white cloak neatly folded upon them. A disproportionate wave of relief washed over him. If his clothes were on that tree, then Stiles was…
Bathing in the middle of the river, back turned to Derek. Water rippled on his lower back right under the cleft of his ass, leaving everything else to Derek’s imagination. The Alpha almost dropped his bucket. He swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away. He shouldn’t stay there, invading Stiles’ privacy, yet his feet felt anchored to the ground. He had to leave before Stiles turned around, and he would if his eyes weren’t glued to this pale skin and lean muscles.
Stiles turned around. And flailed, eyes widening at the same time Derek held his hands in front him in an appeasing gesture, bucket dangling wildly. It was already too late. The Alpha couldn’t see anything, but judging from how Stiles toppled over, he had slipped on a rock.
“Oh my-”
“Stiles!”
The Beta disappeared under water with an impressive spattering as Derek threw his bucket away and ran into the water. He reached him within seconds, before Stiles had time to resurface. Derek dived, though that wasn’t totally necessary, wrapped his arms around Stiles’ squirming body and pulled him up. The young man spat water everywhere, coughing as he pressed himself against Derek’s chest. As if it were their natural place, the Alpha’s arms stayed around him.
“Damn it Sourwolf, don’t do this to me,” Stiles said between coughs. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He craned his neck to glare at Derek, then wrapped his arms around his own chest and buried himself under Derek’s arms again.
“I’m sorry,” the Alpha laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Peter asked me…” The corners of his mouth turned downwards and he cursed his naivety. “Peter basically asked me to go to the river after I asked where you were.”
“Unbelievable,” Stiles replied, although he didn’t sound that much annoyed. He pulled back from Derek’s chest and gave him an innocent look. “You were looking for me?”
“Nothing important, just… looking for you,” Derek admitted lamely. He felt his cheeks heat as an expression of pure happiness brightened Stiles’ face. They stood so close, and he couldn’t look away from Stiles’ wide eyes, and the Beta was naked, and… “You’re shivering.”
“Yeah well, you live in a cold country. I’m a wolf from the meadows, born under the sun.”
Derek swallowed at the way Stiles’ voice lowered to a whisper on the edge of raspy. His fingers clenched and he realized they had slid down to rest on the small of Stiles’ back.
“We… we don’t have a lot of sunny days, where I live.”
That might be one of the most boring things he could have said.
“Too bad. I guess I’ll have to find another way to get warm.”
“Yeah… yeah. Uh, we should get you out of the water.”
Derek let go of Stiles while he still could and turned towards the riverbank. However, before he could take a step, lithe fingers closed around his wrist, the thumb conveniently falling on his pulse point. He froze, knowing that if he turned around he wasn’t sure of how much of his self-control he would maintain. Stiles moved however, hand still on Derek’s wrist, and came close enough for Derek to feel his soft breath on his neck.
“Come on… where is the Alpha who reveled in nibbling on my neck?”
Derek spun on his heels –as graciously as he could on the rocky ground– and stopped himself from capturing Stiles’ lips with his own a second before they touched. He already had one hand on Stiles’ nape and the other on his hip, and the way the Beta pushed back into them didn’t help.
“Are you sure?” Derek whispered.
Stiles sighed and inched forward, lips parting to brush on Derek’s. Suddenly grinning at his impatience, the Alpha drew back a little and Stiles missed him.
“I’m naked, damn cold and throwing myself at him, and he asks if I’m sure,” the Beta groaned, chasing Derek’s lips again.
The Alpha wanted nothing more than giving in to both of their urges, but they had to be serious for a bit longer.
“I just want you to know that…” he paused with a chuckle to escape Stiles’ lips again. “I won’t ask anything of you, won’t pressure you into something you don’t want.”
“I knoooow, you won’t even let me kiss you,” Stiles whined.
“No, I mean, I know what you said about mating still stands.”
“Oh…” Stiles nodded, his smile turning softer. “That makes me want to kiss you even more.”
That was all they needed. Derek closed his eyes and let Stiles melt against him, their tentative lips dancing with each other. He buried his hands in Stiles’ wet hair, holding his head still and slightly raised while he peppered his neck with kisses. The Beta’s whole body shuddered, pushing on tiptoes to give Derek better access. Now that he had his lips on the glistening skin, the Alpha understood how much he had craved this kind of touch, how he craved Stiles in particular.
“Please,” Stiles whispered in a breath, fingers trailing down Derek’s back, “please… don’t stop.”
Derek had no intention to do so.
***
They reached Derek’s territory when the snow started falling. Another day of walking and Stiles would discover a whole new place, meet Derek’s sister. His whole body thrilled with excitement, so much that he had to shift and go for a long hunt with some of the others to get rid of all the energy coursing through him.
It worked so well that when they went back to camp, he only had strength to shuffle towards the small hill where Derek laid, in wolf form too, watching their surroundings. The contrast of his black fur with the snow was particularly charming. Stiles almost turned, just to tell him that, but found it easier to let himself fall with a groan next to the Alpha –well, sprawling half on him was a more accurate description.
Stiles ignored Derek’s little huff and settled his head on his front paws, staring at his Alpha until he got his attention. After ten long seconds –Stiles counted– Derek looked down at him. Without breaking eye-contact, Stiles whimpered and pushed at Derek’s paw with his snout. He could almost see Derek’s answering “fine” in the way he tilted his head. The snow creaking under him, Stiles rolled on his side to plaster his back against Derek and closed his eyes, already savoring what was to come. The Alpha grunted, then his moist muzzle pressed behind Stiles’ ear and he began giving him affectionate little licks. The Beta wriggled until he could get Derek half on top of him, grooming his fur and leaving his smell all over it. According to Peter, Stiles already smelled so much of the Alpha that he felt like two Dereks prowled around.
Stiles aimed to show Peter this was just the beginning.
After a moment, he felt Derek’s weight move away from his body. Stiles snorted at the discomfort but that didn’t bring Derek back, unlike other times. Instead, he heard him shift and a second later, something warm and soft landed on him. A fur. Stiles cast the Alpha a disapproving look. He wasn’t going to shift in all that snow, no way.
“Come on, Stiles. You won’t have time to get cold. I came prepared,” Derek said, smiling as he wrapped himself in a heavy cloak. He held Stiles’ white one above the uncooperative wolf.
Stiles sighed. He couldn’t resist Derek’s smile, ever.
“Now I’m freezing,” he complained after he turned, hurrying to sit on the fur Derek had thrown to him.
The Alpha sat by his side, laughing, and raised a side of his cloak to wrap it around both him and Stiles. Even with his werewolf body temperature, it wasn’t enough. Stiles pushed under Derek’s arm with his head until he could plaster himself to the Alpha’s side, hissing as a few snowflakes hit his hair. He curled himself into the smallest ball possible, almost completely covered by the cloak. At least Derek’s warmth did wonders. The heat of his naked body stayed trapped under the cloak and Stiles bathed in it, head resting against Derek’s chest. Then the Alpha settled the white cloak on both of them and everything became perfect.
“I hate this weather.”
“Sure,” Derek replied, kissing the top of Stiles’ head –the only part of him that wasn’t covered by the cloaks.
“But I love you.”
Stiles lowered the furs –not too much– to glance at Derek when he didn’t answer. The words had slipped out of his mouth naturally but maybe the Alpha didn’t want to hear them? Yet?
One look at him eased Stiles’ mind. Derek’s whole gaze seemed to embrace him, a little grin floating on his lips. Stiles nodded, making it crystal-clear that while he said it in a playful tone, he had rarely been so serious.
More snowflakes fell on them, almost hiding their camp from view, and the wind started blowing. Stiles disappeared under the furs again and Derek whispered back three little words into his ear.