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The clearing had become theirs. It wasn't marked on any map. No trail led to it, no signs pointed the way. The only way to find it was to already know where it was, or have Isabelle willing to lead you there.
The enormous oak tree stood proudly in the center, its roots twisting through the earth like ancient fingers. Nearby, the river babbled over smooth stones, the sound constant and soothing, carrying away worries with the current.
Peter sat against the trunk with one knee bent, lazily swirling the amber whiskey in his glass.
Isabelle lay beside him, her head resting comfortably in his lap. One of Peter's hands absently combed through her blonde hair while the other held his drink. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves overhead, painting them both in patches of gold.
For several long minutes neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward. It never was.
Finally Isabelle looked up at him. "Tell me about your family."
Peter's fingers paused for only a second before continuing through her hair. "My real family?"
She smiled softly. "The one before ours."
A quiet huff escaped him. "That's a dangerous question."
"I've noticed most of the interesting ones are."
He looked toward the river instead of at her. "My sister, Talia..."
His voice softened in a way it rarely did. "...was extraordinary."
Isabelle listened without interrupting. "She was older than me by several years. Already an Alpha before I was truly an adult. Everyone looked to her. Humans. Wolves. Hunters who actually had sense." He smirked faintly. "She had this... irritating ability to walk into a room and immediately make everyone behave."
"So... not inherited by you."
Peter looked down with mock offense. "I can make people behave."
"You usually threaten them."
"It works."
She laughed. "It does."
His smile faded into something more nostalgic. "Laura adored her. Followed her everywhere."
"I can picture that, by the past things you've said."
"She wanted to be exactly like Talia."
"And Cora?"
Peter chuckled. "Cora was a menace."
Isabelle grinned. "Really?"
"Oh yes."
"I don't believe you."
"I assure you."
His eyes sparkled with old memories. "She once convinced Derek that the forest sprites stole her favorite jacket."
Isabelle blinked. "...How old was Derek?"
"Eleven. She was six."
"Oh no."
"He searched the Preserve for three hours."
She burst into laughter. Peter couldn't help smiling with her. "Talia knew immediately Cora was responsible."
"What happened?"
"She made Cora help Derek search."
"Did they ever find the jacket?"
Peter took a sip of whiskey. "Cora had hidden it under Derek's mattress."
Isabelle laughed so hard she snorted.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Attractive."
"Oh shut up."
"I married you anyway."
She rolled her eyes affectionately. "Derek?"
Peter's expression shifted again. "He always wanted to do the right thing."
"He still does."
"True." Peter nodded slowly. "He was the child who worried if someone else got hurt."
"Sounds familiar."
"He'd rescue injured birds."
"Aww."
"He cried when one died."
Her smile softened. "He still has that heart."
"He hides it under approximately six layers of brooding."
"Seven."
"You're right."
She reached up, taking Peter's free hand. "What about your parents?"
Peter's face became unreadable.
"They were..." He considered the word. "...shitty disappointments."
Isabelle remained quiet.
"They believed strength was measured by cruelty."
His jaw tightened. "If you weren't perfect, you were weak."
She gently squeezed his fingers.
"They taught me fear long before they taught me confidence."
He stared at the river. "I spent years trying to earn affection that was never going to come."
Isabelle slowly sat up. She turned toward him instead of remaining in his lap.
"You know..." She cupped his cheek. "They were wrong."
Peter looked at her. "They couldn't see what I see."
"What is that?"
"That underneath all your sarcasm and that incrediblly large ego..."
He snorted.
"...there was someone desperate to be loved."
Peter looked away. "I hate when you're perceptive."
"I know."
"They didn't deserve you."
He smiled sadly. "Perhaps."
"They didn't."
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "And because of them..."
Her thumb brushed over his cheek. "...you've spent decades believing love has conditions."
Peter didn't answer. Because she wasn't wrong. After a while he cleared his throat. "Your turn."
She settled back against him. "My family is considerably smaller."
Peter wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "No less important."
She smiled. "My mom..."
Her eyes drifted toward the river. "I wish you could've met her."
"I wish I had."
"You would've liked her."
"I suspect she would've hated me."
She laughed. "At first? Certainly. But eventually? She would've realized you're just an arrogant wolf pretending not to care."
Peter frowned. "I do not pretend."
She gave him a look.
"...Fine."
She smiled. "Before she got sick, my mom had this way of making every place feel safe."
Peter listened quietly.
"Even when Dad was working late, even when things weren't perfect. She made pancakes shaped like animals."
Peter blinked. "...Animals."
"Mhm."
"How artistic."
"They looked terrible."
"Oh."
"They usually resembled roadkill."
Peter laughed. "I see."
"But she acted like she'd created masterpieces."
He smiled. "That sounds lovely."
"It was."
She swallowed. "I miss her a lot."
Peter kissed the top of her head. "I know."
"My dad..." She smiled more brightly. "...is honestly one of the best men I know."
"He'd be insufferably pleased hearing that."
"He deserves it."
Peter nodded. "Yeah, I guess he does."
"He made mistakes."
"So do we all."
"But he always loved us."
Peter looked toward the river. "Unconditionally."
She nodded. "Even when Stiles and I drove him absolutely insane."
Peter smirked. "Mostly Stiles."
She gasped dramatically. "Excuse you."
"You enabled him."
"I absolutely did."
"I know."
She laughed. "My twin..." Her smile became softer. "...he's still my favorite pain in the ass."
"Don't tell Derek."
"Different category."
Peter accepted that immediately. "Fair."
"When we were kids..." She smiled at the memory. "...if one of us got punished, the other usually wasn't far behind."
Peter looked unsurprised. "I believe that."
"We were a team."
"You still are."
"We always will be."
Peter brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "He loves you fiercely."
"I know."
"He also loves annoying you."
"I know."
"And stealing your fries."
"I know."
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the clearing. Isabelle looked toward the trees just as Scott stepped out carrying a picnic basket.
"There you two are!"
Peter sighed dramatically. "We've been discovered."
Scott grinned. "You literally invited everyone."
"I immediately regretted it."
Allison emerged behind Scott carrying blankets. "You regret people in general."
"I do."
One by one the others filtered into the clearing. Lydia and Jordan. Erica practically dragging Boyd toward the river. Melissa carrying enough food to feed an army. Chris with folding chairs no one had asked for but everyone appreciated. Isaac already stealing cookies.
Malia and Kira arguing about whether raccoons could be considered cute. "They absolutely are." "They're little trash goblins." "Exactly."
Liam jogged into the clearing with Ruby beside him. "We're not late!"
"You are," Peter replied.
"We're only four minutes late!"
"That's still late."
Ruby bumped Liam with her shoulder. "Told you."
He groaned. "Damn it."
Stiles appeared last, carrying three bags despite Noah walking comfortably beside him with only one. "Dad refuses to admit he's getting older."
Noah looked offended.n"I'm only fifty-something."
"You forgot your reading glasses in the refrigerator yesterday."
"...That happened one time."
Melissa laughed. "It was twice."
The clearing quickly transformed. Blankets spread beneath the oak. Food appeared from every direction. Derek started a small fire. Boyd and Isaac skipped stones across the river. Scott and Allison quietly leaned against each other. Jordan wrapped an arm around Lydia while she pretended she wasn't enjoying it. Erica laughed loud enough to scare birds into the sky. Ruby challenged Liam to a race across the fallen log. Chris and Noah were already debating barbecue techniques. Melissa simply watched everyone with that unmistakable mom smile.
Peter looked over the growing chaos. Then at Isabelle. Then back at the people laughing around them. She rested her hand over his. "What?"
He watched Derek shove Stiles into the river after Stiles attempted to splash him first.
Stiles surfaced immediately. "WORTH IT!"
"It wasn't!"
"It absolutely was!"
Everyone laughed. Peter smiled. Not his practiced smirk or an amused grin. A genuine smile. "I used to think family was something you were born into."
Isabelle leaned her head against his shoulder. "And now?"
He looked around the clearing once more. At Derek. At River arguing with Isaac over dessert. At Noah laughing. At Melissa fussing over everyone eating enough. At Scott, Chris, Lydia, Jordan, Liam, Ruby, Erica, Boyd, Allison, Malia, Kira...
Their pack. Their family.
Peter intertwined his fingers with Isabelle's. "Now I know it's the people who choose to stay."
She smiled. "I think your sister would be proud of you."
Peter watched Derek laughing, actually laughing, with Stiles after helping him out of the river. "I hope so."
The wind stirred through the ancient branches overhead, scattering a handful of leaves across the clearing like nature's quiet blessing.
For just a moment, Peter could almost believe every member of both their families, those still here, and those long gone, were sharing the afternoon with them beneath the old oak. And somehow, in this little clearing by the river, that felt true enough.