Chapter Text
By the time they reached the cars, they were exhausted. Adrenaline and excitement only got one so far and now that they were no longer fuelled by their revenge, they were ready to topple over.
As per Danny’s instructions, they left Talia’s car and took the other four. It took a bit of maneuvering to fit all nineteen of them in four cars, especially when no-one seemed too enthusiastic to ride with Braeden, Derek, Stiles, and Peter. Perhaps it was an acknowledgment of their role in what had led to the recent events or pure reluctance to sit in a confined space with a powered-up demon. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t complain. He wasn’t in the mood of sharing a space with nervous pups or strange wolves anyway.
Three of the nine Pack-adjacent wolves were injured. Not fatally, but seriously enough to stay in their Shifted form to help their healing. They rode the backspace of the third car with Scott, Kira, and two of their Packmates while Erica, Boyd, and two Pack-adjacent wolves rode the second car. Lydia and Jordan took the last car with the last two, strongest wolves to secure the rear, which left Derek, Braeden, Peter, and Stiles to lead the way.
Before Braeden had the chance to sit behind the wheel, Stiles tugged her hand and showed her the screen of his phone.
She gave him a questioning look. ”You want us to go there?”
Stiles nodded.
”Okay then,” Braeden said. ”I’ll tell the others.”
As she headed towards the other cars, Peter leaned over Stiles’s shoulder to see a navigation app displaying a route to a nearby lake.
”Wash-up before heading home?” Peter murmured. ”Sounds good. As much as I love our combined scents, Eau d’Argent isn’t my favorite.”
Stiles let out an undignified chortle.
Ignoring the blood and grime, Peter pressed his nose on Stiles’s hair and closed his eyes. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this magnificent creature as his mate, but he would do his everything to keep Stiles happy and content.
”But if we head there, how will Alpha Hale know where we are?”
Peter opened his eyes at the timid question. It was the Asian girl, Kira. She looked concerned and beside her, Scott was blinking and looking slightly constipated. Peter wasn’t sure if it was Scott’s resting face or if he was trying to come up with some way to placate Kira.
Braeden shook her head and said, ”Don’t worry. Danny has tagged these cars, he’ll find us.”
Kira seemed relieved and nodded, offering Braeden a weak smile.
Braeden took a quick look around and when no-one else had anything to ask, she nodded and called, ”Heading out in five!”
It didn’t take long for Stiles to pass out in the low rumble of the engines and Peter didn’t fare much better. Stiles had gone through a lot during one day and even though Peter hadn’t noticed his mate leeching off of his power when it had happened, he was starting to feel the effects now. His throat was parched and he felt odd, like he was running a fever—or what he thought was a fever. Werewolves didn’t get sick so he was basing his guess on human symptoms.
Derek looked as brooding as ever but Peter saw the tension on his nephew’s neck and heard the way he ground his teeth. After his unfortunate run-in with the sexual predator that Kate Argent had been, Derek had shut himself from social contact, driving himself into isolation, making Talia almost senseless with worry in the process. Touch deprivation was bad for everyone but for a born wolf, it was a slow death penalty. Peter didn’t know when Braeden had walked into Derek’s life but it was not a minute too early. She’d done more good to him than the whole of his Pack combined, probably because she had nothing to compare him to. The Pack still remembered the happy, goofy, and carefree Derek and had no idea how to deal with the brittle and angry version. Braeden called him out on his bullshit and Derek needed that. He needed someone who was strong enough for him to be weak, even though he’d never say it out loud.
And now, he was barely holding it together.
Peter shared a worried glance with Braeden via the rearview mirror. Sooner or later, Derek would crack. Peter only hoped he’d realize he was surrounded by friends and family who wanted to help.
When they reached the lake, Mother Moon had laid to rest and the Sun was coming up, bathing the lake in the soft early morning light. The lake was small, more a pond than a proper lake, hidden behind a hill a bit of a drive from the road. In the middle, a big rock rose up from the water, almost like an altar or a statue. The water was clear, offering a view of sandy lake bottom and an occasional flicker of fish scales.
The injured wolves stayed in the car while the others filed out one by one. Peter and Derek shared a look and started to strip and behind them, Stiles followed suit, leaving their clothes in a heap by the car. They didn’t talk when they made their way into the lake, walking until the water reached their thighs. Wordlessly, Peter scooped a handful of sand and used it to scrape away blood and dirt from Stiles’s skin, washing away the grim reminders of justice served and revenge gained. Stiles arched under his hands, closed his eyes and lifted his face up to meet the Sun. He should’ve probably looked ridiculous, caked in sand and blood, but to Peter, he was simply gorgeous.
On the shore, the bitten wolves hovered, radiating awkwardness. Peter snorted under his breath. When Shifting required nudity and werewolves could smell every wet dream and sexual encounter on their Packmates, being ashamed of naked skin was just… redundant.
When Braeden walked into the lake after them, Erica watched them for a moment before she shrugged and stripped. Peter gave her an appreciative once-over—he was an admirer of beauty and Erica was exactly that: a beauty. She was also not only her own person but practically mated to Boyd which was glaringly obvious from the scowl Boyd sent Peter’s way. Peter hid his amused smirk and decided to be polite instead, offering Boyd a formal nod, acknowledging his claim.
The interaction was cut short when Stiles stabbed his cane on Peter’s foot, leaning on it with his full weight.
Peter bit back a yelp and bodily removed Stiles and his cane aside. He huffed and pressed their foreheads together, ignoring his mate’s furious hiss. ”Stop that, kitten,” he murmured fondly. ”She might be beautiful and sparkly, but why on earth would I want sparkles when I can have thunder and fire in my arms every night?”
Stiles narrowed his eyes and sniffed before he buried his nose on the vulnerable side of Peter’s throat. He nibbled the skin with just enough teeth to remind Peter who he was dealing with.
It was delightful.
Peter was positive Stiles would find creative ways to remind him of to whom he belonged. He was looking forward to it.
They spent the morning by the lake, resting and recuperating. After cleaning up and having something light to eat, Talia made sure to talk to each and every one, checking they were alright, while Danny browsed through the laptop they’d found in the Argent main house.
Said laptop was the reason Talia had called him. Originally, he was supposed to stay with the cars until they returned but a piece of tech like that had been too valuable to leave behind. Talia hadn’t been sure if it was safe to unplug, if the Hunters had left some safety measures behind, and she’d asked Danny to come and get it.
And if the look on Danny’s face was anything to go by, the contents weren’t pretty.
Peter caught his eye when Danny averted his face, looking decidedly green around the gills and raised a brow. Danny pressed his lips together in a tight line and shook his head.
Peter nodded. Later, then.
Before they made their leave, Jordan and Boyd picked up the bundled-up soiled clothes and swam to the big rock in the middle of the lake. They piled them up and then Jordan waited until Boyd swam back to the shore before setting the pile on fire. With the clothes, they burned a piece of bark Peter had collected from a giant ash that grew a short distance from the lake. He’d engraved wards into it; apologies for burning the offending clothes and leaving the ashes to scatter, and a thank you to the lake and the surrounding woods for offering them a sanctuary.
When the flames rose high, burning away the last pieces of the nightmare that was finally over, Peter was quite sure he didn’t imagine the soft breeze that touched his cheek or the silent rustle of leaves from around them. He glanced around and wasn’t surprised to see the relief he felt on his Packmate’s faces.
Time to go home.
Talia asked them to ride in her car to learn what Danny had learned about their three guests. Peter couldn’t help feeling warmed by the invitation: even though he no longer held the formal place as the second of the Pack, his Alpha still wanted to run this new, important information through him.
”So, not counting Stiles, they had Lydia Martin the longest, almost 14 months,” Danny said. His voice was even and his hold on the steering wheel relaxed. ”She went missing during her break from college and since her parents were more interested in traveling and fighting with each other, it had taken them weeks to realize she was gone.”
Stiles let out an indignant snort. None of them needed his text-to-voice app to translate his opinion on the Martins.
”The kitsune, Kira Yukimura, has been missing just over four months. Her parents, Noshiko and Ken, have been worried sick. They’ve reached out to the supernatural community but haven’t been able to find out anything about their daughter.” He glanced at Talia and continued, ”I’d like to inform Deaton and ask him to contact them.”
Talia nodded. ”I think that would be wise. And he should contact the Martins as well. Perhaps they’d manage to stop fighting long enough to remember they actually have a daughter,” she added dryly. ”What about Jordan?”
”Well… the interesting thing about Jordan is that he doesn’t exist.”
”Really?” Peter asked.
”Yeah. Of course, I only have my field kit with me so my resources are somewhat limited, but apart from his name and birthday, I have nothing. No age, no place of birth, no relatives, nothing. It’s almost like Jordan Parrish was just an alias he picked up at some point.”
”That is interesting,” Talia mused.
Stiles let out a considering sound and Danny glanced at him via the rearview mirror. ”Yeah, I thought I’d run it by you once we get back to Peter’s. Assuming it’s okay with your mate, of course.”
Peter snorted. ”If you think I have any say on how Stiles spends his time, you’re gravely mistaken.”
Stiles cooed and smacked an all too wet and unabashedly performative kiss on his cheek which turned into a real kiss when Peter promptly dragged him onto his lap.
Talia sighed and shook his head. ”I’d like to remind you that this is my car and I’d prefer it to stay decent,” she said dryly.
Stiles released Peter’s lips and gave her a one-finger salute before settling more comfortably on Peter’s lap. Peter didn’t call him out on it, mostly because his lips still tingled but also because removing Stiles would reveal his prominent hard-on. And werewolf or not, Peter would rather not sport a raging erection within a couple of feet from his sister, thank you very much.
The ride home was mostly uneventful. As they were in no hurry this time and they had no need to stay under the Argent’s radar, they had a short pause in every couple of hours. Mostly it was for them all to stretch their legs but also for Talia to rotate the passengers on each car. She wanted everyone to spend time with everyone, and she wanted to debrief the new members of her Pack. After checking that neither Kira nor Lydia had any objections to inform their parents that they were alive and well, Danny forwarded their personal details to Deaton and gave him a green light to put things into motion.
As no-one was still willing to share the car with Peter and Stiles, they cooped up with Derek and Braeden again with them taking turns driving and Peter and Stiles mostly sleeping on the back seat. Peter had no complaints.
Derek seemed slightly better than on their ride to the lake. Whatever he and Braeden had talked about while they were alone in the car, had done him good. In Peter’s opinion, his nephew would still benefit from a good fight or a good fucking, though.
They chose a remote resting stop to spend the night. The healthy Pack-adjacent wolves patrolled the area but Peter still warded their campsite, just to be sure. As they settled in for the night, the bitten wolves stayed in the back of one car and Peter rolled his eyes at the awkward fumbling as Scott tried to figure out a way to curl himself around Kira and stay respectful at the same time. The True Alpha would do much better if he just faced the truth and embraced his wolf. Peter was fervently happy that he wasn’t the one responsible for teaching the kid anything. He’d most likely either rip the boy a new one or skewer himself with his claws out of sheer frustration.
Peter had no intention to sleep by the cars but he didn’t want to just disappear without letting Talia know. Danny was deep in discussion with Lydia by the car she and Jordan would sleep in and Talia and Laura were talking with Jordan a bit to the side. As if sensing his gaze, Talia turned to look at Peter and when their eyes met, he inclined his head. Talia nodded in response.
That settled, Peter grabbed a blanket from the back of their car and picked Stiles in his arms, striding towards the low-hanging trees by the side of the resting stop. He spread the blanket on the ground and lay down, Stiles still in his arms. Stiles was more than content to wriggle his hands under Peter’s shirt and snuggle as close as he could without actually being in him and, after some nuzzling and scenting, they fell asleep.
At some point during the night, Peter woke up to silent shuffling, heavy breathing, and sounds of kissing. It didn’t take him long to realize Derek and Braeden were a short distance away, well on their way to some life-affirming, desperate lovemaking. He rumbled under his breath, a low sound that was mostly a polite announcement to Derek that he was awake and they were safe.
But for some reason, that was too much.
A short scuffle, and then Derek whispered, ”But—Peter—”
”He doesn’t care and neither do I,” Braeden whispered fiercely back.
Peter rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. There was no privacy amongst werewolves, Derek should know that.
He turned to his side and met Stiles’s eyes, half-mast and glowing softly. He snuggled closer, half-hard against Peter’s thigh but doing nothing about it. Peter blinked and reached down to gently caress him through his pants, silently asking if Stiles would want him to take care of him. Stiles shook his head, leaned closer, and rubbed their noses together. Then he buried his face into the crook of Peter’s neck with a contented sigh.
Closing his eyes, Peter trailed his hand along the curve of Stiles’s spine, letting himself to slowly drift off. Behind his back, Derek and Braeden continued their lovemaking and Stiles soaked it up, basking in the soft sighs and trembling sobs as the couple reminded each other that yes, they were alive and well.
When the urgency of their revenge was out of the way and the Pack had the chance to just relax, Peter realized how crowded his territory felt.
Talia herself was bad enough, her Alpha presence pushing against his wards in a natural—and probably (hopefully) subconscious—reaction. Add in a True Alpha (however limited in his control and understanding), a bunch of wolves, a hellhound, a kitsune, and a banshee, and Peter had a, well, agitated was the best word to describe how the woods felt for him. His territory was old and his claim on it solid, but their visitors put a considerate stress on it. He spent his first two days back home patrolling the woods and renewing his wards to re-stake his claim, but it wasn’t until he took Stiles deep into his territory and mated with him under the night sky that the woods calmed down.
Talia gave them a sideways look when they returned, sated and hair full of sticks and leaves but wisely, said nothing.
The first thing Danny did when he had access to reliable wi-fi and enough bandwidth was to download the contents of the Argent’s laptop on a secure server and call Deaton. After a short, intense talk with the emissary, Talia asked Danny to establish a secure Skype connection and called for Kira and Lydia. The rest of the Pack discreetly made themselves scarce as the young women reconnected with their families and made plans of how to return home.
From the look on his sister’s eyes, Peter guessed she already had contingency plans of her own.
With the more urgent matters out of the way, they finally had the chance to concentrate on the contents of the laptop.
And it wasn’t pretty.
”I don’t know what to say,” Danny sighed and shook his head. ”They had extensive files on everything supernatural and what at a first glance looks like digitalized bestiaries way more extensive I’ve ever seen. I can’t say for sure before I’ve cracked them and confirmed with Deaton, but these might be something new even for him.
”Anyway. Long story short, it seems like they were trying to collect supernaturals, to cultivate their…essence and distill it to an injectable serum.” He paused and huffed at their stupefied faces. ”Yeah. That was pretty much my first reaction, too.”
”They were trying to make themselves supernatural?” Braeden asked slowly.
Danny shook his head. ”Not exactly. They didn’t want to turn themselves into supernatural beings because that would’ve changed their status from Hunters to Hunted. I think they were after, well, a boost of some kind.”
There was a moment of silence as they mulled it over. From the corner of his eye, Peter noticed Stiles tapping furiously away on his phone, most likely taking notes he wanted to go over with Danny later.
Talia frowned. ”So Kira’s essence would’ve given them the ability to control electricity and Jordan’s essence would’ve, what? Made them flame-resistant?”
”I guess so,” Danny said.
”But what about Lydia?” Laura asked. ”Banshees scream when a death is about to happen. What good would that do?”
Danny’s eyes flickered to Stiles before he looked at Lydia. ”He was trying to cheat death,” he said.
”What?” The shock on Talia’s voice was mirrored in everyone’s face.
Lydia cocked her head and pressed her lips together, giving Danny a long look. Finally, she said, ”He came to me multiple times. I don’t know how he thought he’d manage in what he was trying to accomplish but for whatever reason, he’d decided that warping my scream would give him a weapon against death.”
”In short, Gerard Argent was a pervert who wanted to be immortal,” Stiles’s text-to-voice app concluded. The voice was neutral but the dark look on Stiles’s eyes told Peter Stiles probably knew more than that.
”Is that even possible?” Peter mused. ”Immortality?”
Stiles shook his head. ”As far as I know, not for a human.”
”On a completely another matter,” Danny said over the shocked silence, ”Deaton relayed a message from the remaining Argents.” He raised his hands in a placating move in front of him before any of them had the chance to voice out their opinion. ”Hear me out. The remaining family is just two people: Chris Argent and his daughter, Allison.
”Chris is Kate’s big brother. After his wife Victoria was murdered some years ago in a backslash of one of Kate and Gerard’s plans gone FUBAR, Chris cut himself off from the rest of the clan.” Danny looked around the room. ”They follow the old Argent code and are willing to meet when and if you see fit,” he continued, giving Talia a look. ”They also say that the Ito Pack will vouch for them.”
Peter raised a brow. The Ito Pack was old and heavily honor-bound and having their respect meant Chris and Allison were among the few decent hunters out there. On the other hand, going to Satomi Ito also equaled forcing Talia’s hand, a brave move. Perhaps they had nothing to lose.
He wondered whether it was the father or the daughter that had the balls to come up with the plan.
Talia’s eyes were red and her lip curled just so, revealing a bit of fang. Danny faced her calmly, waiting for her response, refusing to cower under her display. After a tense moment that had the bitten wolves glance around as if trying to find a place to hide, Talia let out a billow of breath and snapped a curt, ”Fine!” under her breath.
Danny nodded. ”I’ll inform Deaton,” he said.
Talia didn’t wait but walked out, shoulders tense and eyes red. Peter gave the room a general ’just leave it to me, kids,’ look and followed her. She was bound to know he was there but she didn’t turn around, didn’t even slow down. He followed her into the woods and to a clearing where he watched her give an impressive, truly intimidating roar to a perfectly innocent bush.
”I hate being played,” she spat.
Peter smirked. ”I know. That’s why we don’t get along, remember?”
She bared her teeth and snarled but it held no power. Then she closed her eyes and breathed for a moment, trying to get herself under control.
”How can I do that to Derek?” she asked after a while, suddenly tired.
Peter cocked his head. ”You could start by asking his opinion,” he pointed out.
”Derek doesn’t talk to me.”
”Have you tried treating him like a capable adult instead of glass?” he asked. When Talia whirled around with her eyes ablaze, Peter raised his hands in front of him in a placating move. ”I’m not questioning your parenting, Talia. It was just a suggestion” he said. ”If Derek doesn’t want to talk, talk to Braeden instead. She’s already done a lot to balance him and it’s more than clear she’s staying.”
Talia gritted her teeth so hard he could hear it but after a moment, she nodded. ”I will. Thank you.”
Peter bit back a snarky comment and shook his head instead. ”No, I understand. I’m willing to kill and be killed for Stiles, but I can’t even imagine how it would be if I had to protect my own child.”
Talia’s lips twitched. ”I can. You’d burn the world to keep them safe.”
They shared a surprisingly comfortable moment of silence and then Talia collected herself and asked, ”The Full Moon is in a couple of days. Would you do us the honor of letting us spend it on your territory?”
Slightly taken aback by the question, Peter blinked. An Alpha asking to run under Mother Moon on someone else’s territory, to submit to their authority when their own territory was well within reach was a rare honor.
”The honor is all mine,” he answered quietly.
The genuine, warm smile he got was something he hadn’t seen in years.
They returned to see Boyd and Erica sparring with Braeden. Jordan and Lydia sat on the porch, watching and offering biting remarks on their rather sad attempts to bring her down. Kira and Scott were nowhere to be seen but when Peter extended his senses, he felt them a short distance away in the woods. He hoped Scott didn’t trip on his own feet in his attempts to woo her.
”Stiles is upstairs talking with Derek,” Lydia offered without taking her eyes off Braeden.
”And Danny is on the phone with Deaton,” Jordan continued. ”We came out here to give Stiles and Derek some privacy.”
Talia nodded. ”We need to get more food if we’re about to spend the Full Moon here,” she said, back to her cool and collected self. ”Peter, are you coming?”
As it turned out, the nine Pack-adjacent wolves weren’t staying. Now that the problem was solved and the threat removed, they were eager to go home. Even though he had been mentally prepared to let them run in his territory, Peter wasn’t sad to see them leave. To him, they were strangers and no matter how welcomed they’d been, their extended presence in his territory still grated his wards.
When they returned from their supply run, Derek had joined Erica and Boyd in their attempts to kick Braeden’s ass which meant they might actually have a chance. Peter made a mental note to ask her to spar with him later, interested in seeing just how good she was. Derek’s eyes were red-rimmed and he swaggered and snarled slightly more than what was necessary, but no-one called him out on it.
Inside, Stiles was sitting side by side with Danny, intently tapping away with their laptops. He barely raised his head when Peter pressed a kiss on top of his head, too focused on whatever they were doing but he let out a pleased purr that made Danny look up.
”We’re mapping out possible accomplishes,” he said. ”Just to make sure that the Argent’s little supernatural meth lab was a secular enterprise.”
Peter raised a brow and glanced at Stiles’s screen. It was filled with rambling notes and charts that made no sense, but as long as Stiles was happy…
He looked at Stiles who gave him a wicked grin with too many teeth before he yanked him into a rough kiss.
Peter sighed and gave in, ignoring Danny’s exasperated muttering to get more coffee.
It was good to be home.
In the night of Full Moon, Peter led them to a clearing in the woods It wasn’t the one where he’d mated with Stiles for the first time (that clearing was for them and for them alone), but a comfortable place where the non-wolves could wait up and rest, sharing the space and the call of Mother Moon even though they couldn’t join the Run.
Mother Moon was on her way to the sky, round and beautiful, bathing the woods in her soft light. She called out for them, pulled their blood to the surface, and urged them to Shift and Run. Her call made the born wolves excited and the bitten wolves slightly apprehensive, and Peter knew that the others felt her too. Jordan shimmered slightly and something in Kira’s form flickered, a sign that her kitsune was close to the surface. Braeden’s face was split in a huge grin and even Lydia was smiling brightly.
Stiles’s eyes were shining and his scent was ripe and alluring, relaxing the nervous cubs. He had a mischievous look on his face and Peter grinned in anticipation. He had a feeling he’d have a chance to hunt down his mate tonight. His wolf could hardly wait to bury himself as deep into his mate as he could, to renew their mating bond under Mother Moon’s gaze.
He was jerked from his daydreams by a dry cough. When he glanced to his side, Talia raised a meaningful brow and very pointedly did not glance down at the growing bulge in his pants.
Peter grinned and stripped his clothes in one, smooth move, enjoying the way Stiles’s scent deepened when he saw his half-hard cock.
His sister sighed and shook her head. ”Oh for heaven’s sake,” she muttered under her breath before she said, louder, ”Howl for us, brother.”
Peter raised his head. He howled at Mother Moon, at the sky above, at the stars. He howled at his Alpha and their Pack, at his mate.
It was time to Run.