Chapter 1: Prologue
Once upon a time there was a Prince who was so handsome that women in the village streets would swoon in shock from seeing his face. His skin was golden with tan in the summer, and pale like wheat in the winter, his jaw was chiseled, a spattering of stubble adorning his cheeks. His green eyes were more often than not a light with mischief, always pulling a prank, especially when he was just a boy or when he was a young teenager. And though it could also be said that the Prince was sometimes cold, he was a just man that gave what he got, and tried to install peace within the villages that his mother ruled. The Prince was a fair man from a fair family, he smiled with his sisters, listened to his mother, spent time with his young cousins who would make him drag them around attached to his ankles. But that family and that Prince had a secret, the only people in the know were the family’s Palace servants. The people who served the royal family dutifully didn’t dare speak a word of the secret, having found honor in being the best they could be for the family. Most had been serving the family for years, and were third or even fourth generation servant’s for the Hale’s.
The kingdom was in times of peace, no wars, no disputes from other neighboring kingdoms, the Prince and his family were joyful and happy in this time. That is until a tragedy struck the Hale royal family, the Prince’s sister Laura had been kidnapped by the evil lord of the Isle’s, Lord Argent. The Hale family tried to deploy efforts of peace negotiations, wanting their daughter, their sister back to them safely. But it was no use, the Argent’s not caring about peace killed every single one of the negotiators that were sent. It was a tough road for the Hale family, but they were unaware of why the Argent’s would want to attack them. The Lord and his family usually appearing to be peaceful and loving just like the rest of the neighboring kingdoms and villages.
But what the Hale family didn’t know was that Gerard Argent had found out the secret that kept the family safe for centuries.
The Hale family, the twenty person royal envoy of people, were all werewolves. All born with the gift to shift into there wolf counterparts, they protected their kingdoms borders, the people that lived in the surrounding villages knew that the wolves were protecting them from any dangers. It was illegal to hunt wolves in the Hale Kingdom, and that was the reason, because it was more than likely one of the royal family out in woods making sure everything was in order.
Gerard Argent had found out that the kingdom neighboring his was full of monsters! He saw the eldest daughter stripping naked in the forest one day, as a man he felt compelled to look upon her flesh, but it wasn’t just beautiful skin and supple breasts that made his eyes widen. People that shed their skin into fur and roam around on all fours like beasts, that what those Hale’s were! It was disgusting, and he wasn't going to stand for it, not when he could stop this nonsense from spreading. Lord Argent sent a package to the Hale’s hoping that this would make certain that the abominations would flee. When Laura Hale’s head tumbled out of the package and onto the floor, Talia Hale the queen, the Alpha, her mother, screamed. Not a scream of fear or sadness but a scream of rage. The roar that burst from her throat was more animal than human, her wolf tittering on the surface. Her pack answered back with mournful or rage filled howls of their own. Laura was their sister, cousin, daughter, niece, she was pack, how dare these Argent’s murder their own flesh and blood. It was time for the Hale family to have their revenge.
Gerard had thought his plan worked, he hadn’t seen or heard of any messengers of peace from the Hale’s coming to his Kingdom. So he must of been successful in getting rid of the savages, a little fear making them run like the little piss ants they were. He was obviously the more able bodied predator, not those filthy beasties! It was an exciting notion to the older Lord, that he would be more a predator than the real fur covered savages. His slightly yellowed eyes weren’t what they were cracked up to be, they weren’t what they had been even ten years ago. And his hearing had all but fled from his right ear; it was no wonder he didn’t see or hear any of the rustling wind that spoke of the bloodlust in the air.
Talia Hale waged war on the Argents that night, tearing Gerard into pieces into front of his family. His own daughter fought harder than any man in his guard, taking out the female Alpha’s cousin’s, their throats slits, blood spurting from across the room. Kate Argent strutted into the room, a broadsword gripped in her right hand, in her left a dagger. She flung the dagger, her skilled marksmanship hitting her target precisely, Talia Hale fell. Not dead, but weakened by the poison on the tip, Talia hope that her pack continued to fight with honor and pride. A silver dagger stuck from her back, the smell of their Alpha’s blood in the air enough to cause her family to fling into a rage so deep, the chamber they were fighting in look as if it was all blood. Derek Hale transformed into his beta wolf form, claws lengthening, teeth becoming sharper longer, eyes glowing blue, bloodlust consuming him as he saw his mother his Alpha fall. He took out any soldier, any guard, man or woman he didn’t care. He ripped them apart, tearing out the throats of any who got in his path, his path to Kate Argent, wanting to be the one who placed the killing blow on her. She noticed him from across the room, running with her sword ready for a killing blow. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight especially not to monster like this one.
Derek’s fangs dripped with blood, his claw was caked in it, he was reaching into Kate Argent’s stomach, with a quick pull of his hand, he pulled her intestines out. He roared with triumph, eyes now glowing an eerie red, blood dripping down from his arms his face, he growled when one of his own pack tried to brush against him in celebration. While he had won the battle with the Argent scum, he had killed an Alpha female, not his mother but the Kate woman. He had become an Alpha, not knowing what to do, his brain reverted to a more feral state, becoming more wolf than man. Derek followed his instincts to leave his old pack behind and find or make one of his own. Snarling at anyone that got to near, the near feral werewolf fled from the blood and brutal scene in front of him. He traveled for many hours, for many days until he found the perfect nest, the perfect den to one day mate in. The perfect den to protect cubs that would come from his mate one day. Now he just had to find his mate and everything would be perfect. The new Alpha didn’t know that, that time wouldn’t be soon. It would take nearly ten years until he found his mate. He would be in that feral form for ten years, sometimes shifting fully into his four legged wolf form. But having no one and nothing to talk or interact with didn’t do anything for the young wolf’s personality. He would find that mate though, a pretty boy with a delicious cock fattening scent. And that mate didn’t really want to be kidnapped by a feral werewolf looking to knot his tight ass.
But well, that’s a story for another day!
Chapter 2: Chapter One
I will usually not update this fast but the muse said to write so I did. Normally I will be posting once a week or so, so I can have time to really crank out longer chapters. But I was so excited to see that I had comments and kudos and even bookmarks on this story. I almost cried. 13 people think my story is worth bookmarking. That is a big deal for me! Thank you all sooooo much!!
Trigger Warning: Non-consensual touching, and a bit of physical violence.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Stiles Stilinski was just like any other boy in his day and age, yeah he was a little spastic and he talked more than he listened but totally like every other boy! He lived with his father in a cabin in the Beacon Hill’s woods, the Hale’s kingdom butting up against the thicket of trees and rough foliage. The woods were always a place of security and comfort for the boy, he would walk the old trails searching for the rumored Feral Mountain King. He never came upon anything but it was more for the adventure, and the friendship it inspired. Scott McCall was his best friend, his brother in all but blood, the man that stood up for him when the other villagers would taunt him. As much as Scott stood up for him, Stiles also stood against others for his best friends sake.
Scott suffered from an affliction of the lungs that stunted their growth and made getting oxygen in, more difficult than it should be. The other village boy’s would tease and torture the poor boy until he would so out of breath that he would turn blue, it was luck that Scott’s mother was a medic and knew what her boy needed during those terrifying times.
Stiles was just a young man, only sixteen summers old, but he never lost the child like innocence youngsters had unlike his fellow villagers. They were all too serious, always business never time for pranks and mischief in their lives! For this young man, that just wouldn’t do, so he would spend most of his days wrecking some havoc on the village people, mostly their children but he brought his pranking wrath upon the adults as well. It wasn’t out of spite or malicious intent. He just wanted to have fun, Scott spent a lot of his time helping the local veterinarian, or spending time with the young woman he was courting, Kira Yukimura. He didn’t have a lot of time to play silly pranks or go adventuring out in the woods anymore, he was becoming a man. But Stiles was still a child in most ways, not wanting to grow up if it meant having to be so serious all the time. If it meant not spending time with the people you care about because work or a potential relationship was too important to you now. He loved Scott, not as a romantic partner but they were as close as two people could be platonically. It was hard to grow apart, even though they both didn’t want it to happen, it eventually would. Both would have families and more adult responsibilities they would be in charge of, jobs, children to care for.
So the two friends that were bound by the woods, slowly grew apart the clever, quick-witted Stiles refusing to grow up and the dopey, thicked headed, but loving Scott who had to make some coin to help his mom, who wanted to be with the Kitsune Kingdom heiress. Sometimes the two would still venture into the woods and goof around. But there were more and more sightings of wolves this time of year, the leaves turning colors; falling to the ground in beautiful golden and red hues. It didn’t happen often but whenever the two of them were free they would continue their quest to find the Feral Mountain King.
But it all was for naught, as the days grew longer and the all the leaves lay dead on the moist earth, the two boy’s couldn’t venture out into the wild of the woods. Not when it was so cold, the frigid air would surely suck all the life giving oxygen from Scott’s body if he went anywhere for too long. If he had to leave his home, he would put layer after layer of his thickest cloaks and coats on to keep the freezing wind from getting to his skin and bringing the cool chill of winter with it. And Stiles wouldn’t want to put his best and only friend in danger, from anything. He didn’t want to become a burden on the poor boy, though he was loathe to admit to it, he felt as if he had already failed him as a friend as a brother.
Stiles once again ventured into the woods by his lonesome, sticking to the trails as his father taught him, he tried to find any signs that there was something or someone else out here with him. He wanted to find the Feral King so bad, so he could prove to everyone in the village that he wasn’t crazy. Stiles had been hearing stories and fairytales of the King since he was a child of just six summers. His mother would tuck his thickest blankets around on him on cold winter nights, one of her small bird boned hands giving his head and face a gentle caress. She would then go on and tell them of the magical Feral King who lived in the tallest mountain of the Beacon Hill’s woods. The King that wore a wolf's pelt to blend in with the local packs, to protect himself for any who would dare try to fight him. The King that would sneak down from his mountain den to find food, but he would also search for his treasure. No one knew what the treasure was, just that it was so valuable the King had been looking high and low for it. It was Stiles’s mother’s favorite story to tell him at night when he should have been sleeping, but he couldn’t go into the land of slumber without his goodnight story! He only started to look for the Feral King after his mother died from a fevered sickness, the stench of death clinging to the cabin home his father and he lived in. They had her buried, they mourned her lost, and they tried to move on as the years went by. At nine summer’s old Stiles walked all over the woods, but he never found a thing, it disappointed him something quite fierce! Though he always had the feeling that something in those woods was watching him, so he never quit, even when he grew too old for childish whimsy.
Stiles at this very moment was staring into the depths of the tree’s, wrapped in two warm coats, he had his bright red cloak over his shoulders, the hood drawn over his head keeping the wind from chilling him to the bone. It was his favorite cloak for many reasons, the first being that it had belonged to his mother, the second because the color was so fetching, so eye-catching. His father had made it for his mother before he was born, and so when she passed on he took care of it, when a hole wore into the fabric he would make sure it was patched up. He spent time learning how to sew and mend clothes with the young women of his village so he could take care of this special cloak. The young man was taunted endlessly for that. The other boy’s, expect Scott of course, teased him about how he was becoming a good wife for his future husband. Jackson, the village leaders son, never quit bullying him for that. Though his type of bullying was probably more on the ends of flirting, but poor Stiles didn’t practically know the difference between the two. The older boy, by one summer, had eyes for Stiles, when the younger boy would come to the village market for ingredients, he would feel Jackson’s gaze on him. In Stiles’s mind he thought the older boy was trying to intimidate him, not trying to get him on his cock!
But back to Stiles, he was in the woods again, though this time he was on his way to the village from the cabin he and his father lived in, no time for adventuring at this time. His father, Jonathan, was the head guard of the village making sure that everyone was kept safe, that wildlife wasn’t getting too close to any of the homes. But he worked some very long hours, and never had time to eat! So Stiles had to be sure he was eating, even if he had to shove food down his throat. He was on his way to the village to give his father a nice healthy meal before getting some things from the market for supper. The young man carried a large wicker basket, woven from the best willow branches he could find. He stored his father's lunch in the lightly lined interior, to keep it nice and warm for when his dad ate it. As he walked the path, he could swear he heard something following him, it took the same steps, stopped when he stopped, though whenever he turned back to look no one was there, not even an animal. The boy shrugged it off, probably his mind playing tricks on him, he thought, continuing on the journey to the village. It didn’t take Stiles too long to get to the outskirts of the village and as he did, he saw the hulking shape of a black wolf. He froze with fear, he knew wolves lived in these woods but he never in all his life of living in them did he see a wolf this size. The wolf was massive, his head would surely come to Stiles’s shoulder, he was thicker than a pine tree, but the most frightening thing about this mighty beast was his eyes. Eyes as red as blood gazed into Stiles’s own whiskey orbs, a hungry, desperate look that made the blood in Stiles veins freeze. The giant hulking wolf, lifted its immense head into the air, scenting the boy as the wind brought his essense over to the creature. Though fear was pungent in the boy’s scent, he still smelled like the best thing to the beast, he wanted to roll around in the scent, he wanted to fuck that scent, he could mount the boy right here thought the wolf. Though it would be too close to the village, anyone could walk upon them and see the boy’s naked flesh, and that just wouldn’t do. The wolf would have to wait for his little mate, but it had been ten years, waiting such little time wouldn’t affect him at all, he could wait. He was patient.
The wolf sniffed one more time then ran off back into the dense trees of the woods, Stiles staring at the spot he once was completely and totally perplexed. He couldn’t understand why the wolf didn’t try to attack him at all, though the wolf population in the Beacon Hill’s woods were rather tame compared to most. But it was most confusing the boy, for the red eyed wolf looked as if it wanted to devour him, like he wanted to eat him right up. Stiles sucked in a much needed breath of air, and continued into the village, trying to stop the shaking in his hands, and calm the running of his mind. He made his way to where he knew his dad would be at this time of day, the southern border, where the guards needed the most help. He waved at a few people, smiling at a few, tilting his head to Scott as he passed him by. Scott knew not the stop him when he was on mission though, so he just nodded back smiling easily at his best friend. But not everyone was as understanding and polite as Scott, so when Jackson tripped the basket carrying boy, it wasn’t all that surprising for Stiles. Scott rushed to pick up his best friend, glaring down at the smirking man.
“That meal for me, Bride Boy? You take such good care of me. Such a good bitch.” Jackson sneered, the expression looking so completely normal on his angular face. The minions behind the brown haired menace guffawed with glee, the other villagers watching the scene with an amused gleam in their eyes, a giggle escaping from a few bimbos in the crowd.
“Actually it’s for your father, he knows how to satisfy a bitch.” Stiles, as always, never knew when to shut his mouth. There was a reason he wasn’t a popular man, besides the pranks, he usually endlessly talked. Or in this case had a witty retort, that would most definitely get his ass handed to him on a silver platter. Jackson’s gleeful expression turned into ice and he leaned down, getting into the slightly smaller boys face, grabbing a handful of hair. He gripped the chocolate strands in a powerful fist, he was one of the strongest in the village, training to be a guard, so he had a vast amount more strength than Stiles. Jackson brought him closer, other hand snaking up his throat clutching at it with paralyzing force, choking the life from the smaller fellow.
“I’m going to teach you why you need to shut your fucking mouth.” Jackson hissed, lips disgustingly breathing hot wet air into Stiles’s ear, making the poor lad shudder in revulsion. Fingers tightening around the pale neck, Jackson rubbed his body against the younger's, cock thickening in his trousers. He pushed his hips deeper, grinding his hardness into the younger man’s flaccid penis.
Stiles swallowed a sob, he didn’t want to bring this sick freak any satisfaction with hearing his voice, let alone seeing his tears. “You’re going to be mine, freak. You’re going to be my pretty little bitch wife. No one denies me, and your father won’t once mine threatens to let him go from his position as head guard.”
With those last words, Jackson threw Stiles to the ground, a ring of finger shaped bruises already littering the creamy skin of his throat. The older bloke spat at him, glare as burning as hot coals, he turned away walking off as if nothing happened just moments ago. Stiles was in shock he couldn’t believe that, that, that man could do such a thing. Yeah, Jackson wasn’t the nicest of gentlemen in the village, but he never brutalized anyone. He never even really beat up Scott, he taunted him, teased him but never seriously injured him. He never hurt Stiles, not like this at least, most of the time smacking him on the head or pushing him, tripping him so he would fall and embarrass himself not choke him, deprive him of oxygen and rut against him. Stiles didn’t even realize that the older gent was attracted to him, he hadn’t known that he was sexually violent in this manner. He had known him since he was just six summers old for Higher Powers sake! He thought he had more understanding of what made Jackson a person, he was never a good person, but he never thought he was this malicious.
Stiles rushed from the crowded area of the village, jeers still being thrown at him from the surrounding masses, a flash of tears streaking down his face. He wasn’t the type to cry, but this experience was jarring for the young man. He hadn’t ever been assaulted in this way. And the other villagers just watched as this went on, Scott watched as another man abused his best friend. Stiles couldn’t believe that he was so hated, so detested that others wouldn’t step in and help him. His own best friend, the man he called his brother, just let someone do something so abhorrent.
Stiles ran from the village, not making it to his house before he collapsed in his grief and woe, thoughts tormenting him endlessly. He didn’t see the mass of blackness creeping up from behind him, his sobs drowning out any noise that the creature made.
But that’s a story for another day!
So this is the introduction into Stiles's life, his waning friendship with Scott and problems with Jackson. I have never written for any of these characters before so I hope that I did them at least a little bit of justice! If I didn't I am sorry and I am trying but this is also an AU so there will be some OOCness at times. This fic is more fantasy than historical but I wanted to tag it just in case. There are more fantasy elements in this than there are historical.
Hope you enjoyed and if you did then please leave a comment. If you find any mistakes then please let me know and I will fix them.
Chapter 3: Chapter Two
I am so sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out, I had every intention to update this months ago, but my life has been absolutely fucked at the moment, and I had a been of writers block for a moment. I am sorry everybody! But I am back with a new chapter! I will honestly try to update more often or at least write longer chapters. >.<
Please enjoy this chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Derek was rather interested in the sobbing human, the salt water pouring from his eyes was a worrying sign, the human must be sad or angry. That had to be it. But the young ones scent was exhilarating for the beast. He smelled like sunshine, the breeze in the summer times, like mint leaves and a hint of vanilla, he smelled like home. Home was an almost foreign concept to the mostly feral beast, while he spent the most of his time in the mountains within his wolf form, he still held a strange sort of intelligence. Derek understood emotions more than anything, the smell or heavy feel of certain emotions, he could pick up on some of the language but even when he was in his human shape he had a hard time speaking it. Mostly because he had no one to speak with in his den. When he ventured too close to the nearby village he would capture bits and pieces of information, or when he would see the boy and his companion trailing through his woods.
The giant wolf would follow them throughout their travels in his forest, he saw that the one cloaked in red lived in a wooden structure surrounded by trees and wildlife. He lived there with an older man who shared some of the same scent qualities with the younger one who smelled like mate. Derek also could comprehend this seriousness as well, he knew the young one was his mate, he knew as soon as he saw him. The wolf tried to stay away from the youth just so he wouldn’t pounce on the youngster when he caught his true scent. He would catch a few whiffs but not enough to drive him into mounting the boy when he was just a child. Derek had first seen the boy when he was around twelve summers old, too young to mate, too young to fuck his thick cock into. He didn’t want to hurt the boy after all.
He inhaled deeply, the arousing scent of the boys natural essence overwhelming the poor werewolf, he wanted to plunge himself into the young until he begged for mercy. Though he didn’t want to scare the boy too bad with their first meeting, so he would have to hold off, just for a little while at least! Derek stalked closer, the air becoming more saturated with his own arousal and the boy’s sorrow. He crept on his most silent paws, he was determined not to scare the boy from behind, so he snuck in front of him. Belly to the forest floor, the wolf kept on his silent crawl over to the fellow, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth in anticipation. Derek whimpered a little, to give off some sound as not to frighten the piss from the little one, he tried to be reassuring but he didn’t know if he achieved that exactly.
Stiles looked up at the sound of a low whimper, it didn’t sound threatening but it still made him jump a little in fright before his eyes connected to the blood red ones he saw earlier today. He was fairly surprised and quite a bit shaken to be staring eye to eye with the fearsome beast he encountered that same day. Though this time the beast seemed to be trying to get his attention, in a non-aggressive manner, shuffling his belly and chest on the dirty ground. The wolf looked up at him as if he hung the moon himself, no latter or anything! And while Stiles was a bit anxious of the interaction he would have with the animal at least he wouldn’t be able to harm him in sexual manner, thought the young lad. How wrong he was, though he wouldn’t learn that tidbit of information until later.
Derek continued to meekly make his way over, trying to hunch his overly large alpha body to the childlike punk. Before long the alpha wolf was almost leaning into the lean calves, the kid practically petting his massive black head. The beast braved rising to his full wolfie height, leaning his great head down to brush upon the human’s head, his tongue flicking out to lick from the boys chin to his tear wet eye. Derek desperately wanted the youth to understand that he had no intention of hurting the poor weeping dear. And since he couldn’t exactly explain what was going on to the kid, with you know those useful things called ‘words’, he had to do it with the language of animals. The language of animals, in Stiles point of view at least, could be seen as a bunch of wolf cuddles, that he never thought he could get! The wolves of Beacon Hills forest were always off limits even if you didn’t want to hunt them, if one came close to you, you were supposed to stay silent and still, to let them do as they please, they would eventually leave. But kids were instructed from a young age to never, ever touch them, as they could be dangerous if they were without pack. And at the end of the day they were wild animals, even if they were “tame”. But it was normal for wolves to be running around the forest, it was just the way Beacon Hills forest worked, if you didn’t like it, you would just stay away from the woods for the most part.
But this monumental event Stiles was experiencing was so extraordinary he couldn’t believe his eyes, he must be hallucinating! He never thought he could be able to see a wolf this close up, never mind touch one! He was so excited he felt as if he was going to burst, he wrapped his shaking arms around the black as night wolf, holding onto the silky fur. Stiles buried his head into the wolves neck, the fur tickling his nose, but he didn’t mind, it soaked up his still flowing tears.
Derek was absolutely thrilled by this turn of events, this was all he hoped for when he met his mate! He flicked his tongue out to catch some of the sweat running down the back of his mates neck, the secretion so delicious to his taste buds. He pushing all his instincts down so he wouldn't hump the poor boy until they both erupted, he really wanted to fuck into the lad. His mate was holding onto him so tight, sobbing into his fur, arms shaking, his mate needed this more than he needed a hole to fuck. So the werewolf held back his instincts, letting the boy cry his salty water, and made sure he comforted him completely nuzzling the boys head.
Stiles cried himself out, he felt so tired from crying out all his pain into the furry shoulder of the wolf. No tears fell from his eyes now, but he still leaned his head on the hulking shoulder, taking comfort from the warmth of the soft fluff.
“Thank you.” Stiles whispered, his hand petting from the middle of his muscled back to the bulging flank. The wolf huffed into his hair, his massive body coming up to its full height, towering over 16 year old boy. Pulling his cloak tighter to his body, Stiles smiled up at his large savior, he was such a beautiful specimen his dark fur gleaming in the last lights of day. Red eyes glittering down on him, just like rubies. Stiles was insanely tired, the crying prodding him down the path of sleepiness, he felt his eyes grow weary. Eyelids lowering he nuzzled into the muscle and fur, falling into the darkness of slumber quite easily. Derek couldn't be happier. His mate trusted him to protect his body while he rested, it was also the perfect time to take the precious boy to his nest. He would be safe there, no one would make him cry salty water again, unless he was crying from pleasure of course.
When Stiles woke he expected to be freezing from sleeping outside even if cuddling a wolf, the cold winter air surely would have bitten into his flesh! But he wasn't outside, not in the thicket of forest at least. He was in a warm inviting cave, a fire bounced light off the stone walls, cozy furs were wrapped around him, and he could tell that he was on top of a nest of bedding similar to the furred blankets. His eyes traveled the expanse of the cave, trying to figure out how he managed to get here, he couldn't possibly believe the wolf brought him here, the creature wouldn't be able to start a fire! But he was startled out of his searching when he noticed a tall, shadowy figure standing in the darkest part of the cave, the fire barely flickering its raging light to the man's corner. Fear ripped down his spine, chills making his skin bump up, he tried to back up closer to the cave wall. But he was stopped from his escape attempt by the man lurching forward, claw-like hands reaching for him in the dark.
Stiles screeched with terror, his body seized up not moving an inch as the man wrapped his large calloused fingers around his arms hard enough to bruise. Though the look in the man’s eyes, eyes the color of the thicket of forest trees outside this cave, was of concern not anger. It confused Stiles, why was this man concerned over him when he kidnapped him? It didn’t make any sense, at least not to the boy. The man shuffled his body closer, face pressed into the line of pale flesh of his neck, sniffing his skin deeply, tongue lapping at the sweat gathered there. Stiles was still frozen, the pin pricks of dread still gathering under his skin, the feeling of a tongue lapping at his flesh was terror inducing. What exactly was this man going to do to him?
Derek didn’t understand why his mate was scared, he didn’t do anything to frighten him, he was sure of it! The werewolf had made sure to comfort him by scenting the little thing, marking him with his saliva, holding him tightly so he would feel safe. Derek thought he was being a perfect example of a good mate, taking care of his submissive mate, like any true Alpha would. He is sure his Alpha mother would be proud of him for taking care of the little one, giving him the comfort he obviously needed. But it seemed as if his mate was not calming down, the humans heart racing like a rabbits in the middle of a hunt. For some reason the fragile human was more terrified than earlier!
Maybe the boy didn’t recognize him as the wolf that he was, he was in his human shaped form after all, that might be it, thought Derek. Letting go of his tiny bride, the werewolf repositioned his weight around, not wanting to hurt the lad when he shifted forms, stepping back slightly to give himself some more room. Derek felt the green of his eyes alter first, red tinting his vision, he then welcomed the elongating of his spine, bones snapping and shaping into place. Skin splitting and ripping, fur growing next, the thick coat of his black pelt replacing the tan skin, hands forming paws with a fierce set of talons. The transformation took quite a bit of energy from him, which is why he usually stuck in his wolf form, feeling more comfortable in his animal appearance. He hoped his mate was happy to see him in his wolf shape!
Stiles took a shuddering breathe at the sight of the man as his bones cracked, flesh bursting from the pressure of it’s skeleton relocating, a thicket of fur growing from the bloody rips. The boys eyes rolled into the back of his head as the wolf he befriended sat in front of him, a joyful expression on it’s canine mug.
But that’s a story for another day!
Thank you for reading, if you could comment I would greatly appreciate it! Tell me what you don't like and what you do like about this chapter or any of them really. I really dig concrit! No flames though, I would like to have a safe review section please! <3 Also if you have any ideas you would maybe like to see, let me know and you just might see them! Be safe and blessed be.