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When The Girl walks into the Hale house all sun kissed hair and red lips and short, short skirt Derek watches carefully from the eaves. She’s an Alpha (unlike Stiles), readymade (unlike Stiles), and gorgeous (unlike Stiles not that that matters because Derek wants the boy for things other than his looks), pack in a different way to Jackson and Scott, but she smells like Stiles. It is this that makes him drop down. Hard--
“So,” The Girl purrs like a fifties actress, all lips and cigarette rough voice, when he finally rises to look her in the eye. “I hear that you’re the new Alpha in town.” Her eyes rake across his bare chest. “Funny, Stiles’ never mentioned how hot you were.”
“What do you want?” Derek asks as casually as he can as she simpers towards him. She smells good, too good, too much like Stiles. Derek wants to bite out her throat.
“Nothing,” She flutters her eyelashes at him. When he doesn’t react she sighs loudly. “Okay, fine. You got me. Stiles’ said you’re the top dog, or wolf, or whatever, of this outfit and since I’m one of you I thought I’d introduce myself.” She offers him a soft hand that doesn’t look like it’s done a day’s work (again, unlike Stiles). “I’m Lydia Martin.” When he doesn’t take her hand her eyes flash red. “I sincerely recommend that you take my offer of friendship, Derek.” She says mildly, raising her hand to examine the red painted talons. “I may be new to this so forgive me if I’m wrong,” She quirks her plump lips up into a parody of a smile, “But I’m fairly certain that a natural Alpha trumps a turned one in the werewolf stakes.”
“Is that a challenge?” Derek growls stepping closer to her, his own talons tearing out of his skin.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Lydia eyes him hungrily. “We could share,”
Derek doesn’t need to ask to know she means Stiles.
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