Derek looked at Stiles in true terror. It surprised Stiles that out of all the life-threatening situations they have found themselves stuck in, this one broke the werewolf. It didn’t add up. How does a witch threatening to make him feral seemed like his worst nightmare? They have had so much worse than a lousy spell that can be eventually broken.
The witch had an evil almost conspiring smile, like she knew something nobody else did. It seemed as if Derek knew it too. Stiles hated being in the dark. But he wasn’t lingering on those emotions for long. A flash of light and the spell was cast. Like a switch turned on, Derek’s alpha red eyes lit up. Stiles, however, was not expecting what had happened next. Derek was instantly in his personal space with his face buried in the crook of Stiles’ jaw. Stiles was uncharacteristically still with his eyes on the witch. She looked like she was about to burst with excitement. Stiles felt something tender on his neck.
‘Oh my god, did Derek just kiss my neck?’
Stiles’ brain was short circuiting and his body was giving embarrassing reactions to his actual wet dreams being played out in front of everyone. The scent of Stiles’ arousal was thick in the air, that made the other werewolves scrunch up their noses. Almost as a reaction to it, Derek faced him with burning embers as his eyes. Stiles was momentarily distracted by his glowing eyes but was quick to catch the devastated expression on his face.
“I am so sorry” Derek whispered in his gruff voice and tried to put some distance between them. He was already in his beta shift and it looked like it was causing him physical pain to get away from Stiles.
“Derek, what’s…?” The question died on Stiles’ lips as he saw tears in Derek’s eyes. Almost instantly Stiles felt the need to slap the gleeful grin off the witch’s face, but he discovered he couldn’t move. Looking at the other werewolves it looked like they couldn’t either. The only werewolf capable of moving was now… feral. And currently nuzzling his neck. And crying for some reason. Fantastic.
Stiles had a flash of fear upon discovering that all of them are rendered defenseless against the witch with Derek so vulnerable. How could his plan fail this bad? Derek growled at his neck. Some parts of his body liked it more than others. ‘Thanks for nothing, body’ Stiles thought catching Scott’s horrified looks.
Derek finally was able to detach his lips from Stiles’ neck and almost cried in pain while taking a few steps back. It felt like he was fighting the pull of a very powerful magnet. Derek looked at the witch and growled more. This time with purpose.
“Oh shh you dog. You are so mad with the need to claim your mate, you think you can fight me now?” The witch dismissed him and started conjuring another spell with complicated hand movements.
“I thought you would give me a show, dog. What? I am not above casual voyeurism”, laughed the witch while casually sparing a glance at Derek, who was increasingly getting angry.
“Maybe not. Your mate isn’t that great to look at.”
‘Please sourwolf don’t do anything stupid’ Stiles thought right before Derek jumped at her in his alpha speed. Stiles fully expected Derek to get severely injured thinking that the witch was purposefully baiting him by attacking his mate, whoever that was. But no.
The witch laid on the ground unconscious, and Derek looking down at her almost thirsty for blood. As the witch fell, the pack discovered they could move again and they rushed towards Derek all speaking at once. Stiles was still processing what had just happened. The witch didn’t bait him? What? Is this a trap?
He heard Derek scuffle away from the pack in haste before they could touch him and gave Stiles one final mournful look. One second Derek was looking at him with tear tracks and the next second he disappeared into the woods in alpha speed. A lone extremely sad howl was heard from a distance and the pack knew something was extremely wrong with their alpha.