Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Stalion || Teen Wolf || A Spark For an Alpha || Teen Wolf || Stalion || Teen Wolf
Title: A Spark For an Alpha – Mischief Mondays Series
TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.
Tags: m/m, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, Morally Gray Alpha Pack, Spark Stiles, courting
Main Pairing: Deucalion/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Deucalion Blackwood
Summary: Stiles strikes a bargain with the Alpha of Alphas so Deucalion will leave the Hale Pack alone. He offers himself. It’s a calculated offer, because he knows what he’ll gain. It’s the feelings that come as a surprise to Stiles.
A Spark For an Alpha
Mischief Mondays Series
Deucalion had come to Beacon Hills for two strong additions to his pack. A Hale Alpha, the son of his old friend Talia at that, and a True Alpha. The prospect of corrupting something as pure and righteous as a True Alpha was a thrill to Deucalion. With both of those additions, they would be unstoppable. He would finally be able to go after the Argents and make them pay.
Deucalion tilted his head intrigued when he got home to a foreign but delicious scent. Sweet as honey, wild as a storm rolling over the forest. Inhaling deeply, Deucalion followed the scent. Unmated omega. A powerful one, at that, though he wasn’t entirely sure what this lovely omega was.
“It’s dangerous to break into a werewolf den.”
“It’s dangerous to mess with my pack.”
The need to know who he was dealing with made him flash his eyes bright-red. He may no longer see all the colored nuances, things were blurrier than they used to be, but his Alpha-eyes at least allowed him a rough vision. And what a vision it was. A boy, perhaps the twins’ age, was comfortably sprawled out on the couch like he owned the place. Uncaring. Unflinching. Unafraid. Sharp eyes stared directly at Deucalion, not intimidated by the red of the Alpha’s eyes. Long legs were spread out in front of him, a hoodie sat loose around his frame.
“Your pack?” Deucalion echoed, leaning his head on the other side.
He found himself both highly amused and intrigued by this brash boy. It would be a shame to kill him by the end of this conversation, but the Alpha of Alphas couldn’t let word get out that a teenager broke into his den to mock him. He had a reputation to uphold. Regardless of how pretty, brave and good smelling said little intruder was.
“Mhmh. Hale Pack’s under my protection,” the boy paused. “We got the ones you took from us back, by the way. You made the search hard, but not impossible.”
“I’m sure three feral wolves caused quite the disturbance in town,” Deucalion didn’t fight the smirk.
“Probably would have, if we hadn’t figured out what you did to them,” the omega hummed in agreement. “Bu—ut I got it, with a little help from our local Left Hand, and we waited to free our Betas until morning. No harm done.”
Deucalion narrowed his eyes, mildly displeased. If the feral wolves had caused enough chaos, they would have forced Derek’s hand. Once Derek tasted blood, he would want more. After all, the boy had been merciless enough to kill his own uncle to become an Alpha. He knew what it felt like to gain power from a kill. Surely disposing of his bitten Betas wouldn’t be that much harder.
“I don’t think I’ve caught your name yet.”
“I haven’t given it to you yet,” the omega countered. “I know your name though. Deucalion Blackwood, former Alpha of Silver Lake. Former ally of Talia Hale. Former visionary of the werewolf community. Lotta formers in there, mh?”
“Current Alpha of Alphas,” Deucalion growled low in warning. “You are testing my patience.”
“Really? Am I? Because you seem to be quite the patient man,” the omega sounded mock-surprised. “I mean, surely there are more efficient and quicker methods to make Derek kill his Betas than to… kidnap them and keep them trapped for three months. Not to mention, they aren’t malnourished or in horrible physical shape, so you even took care of them.”
Mh. The little human was smart. Observant. A dangerous combination.
“Now, before I rip your throat out, I would like to hear why you are here.”
He smiled sharply and popped his claws. There was a jump in the boy’s heart-rate but he masked it quickly. Clearly, he was used to covering things up in front of werewolves.
“I am here to negotiate with you,” a pause and the rustling of clothes as the boy got up. “I may not officially be an Emissary or anything, but I would still like to… deescalate things, for my pack. What is it you want, exactly? You took our Betas, but you didn’t kill them, didn’t even really harm them. Hell, you somehow tracked down Cora, whom everyone thought was dead. What’s the endgame here? And how can we achieve it to make you leave without any losses on either side?”
Not an Emissary, but acting like one. Deucalion found himself more and more intrigued by the boy.
“I am here to strengthen my pack,” Deucalion tapped his fingers against his cane. “Call it sentimentality, but a Hale would look very good in my pack.”
“They do that. Looking good, I mean. We got three in our pack now. Stupidly pretty, the bunch of them.”
Despite himself, Deucalion snorted out a laugh at that. This boy really was something else.
“Derek could be powerful. He could help bring real change. What is it he is doing here, now? Defending the territory on his own, with a group of untrained, undisciplined teenagers? We are not waiting for threats to come to us. We track them out and snuff them out. Do you know how many packs, how many towns, our interventions have saved?”
“Interesting pitch. The bit where you want Derek to kill his own Betas, kinda fucked up, sort of a deal breaker. Also, he has some sentimental attachment to this territory. Centuries of Hales and all that.”
“Sentimentality,” Deucalion pursed his lips, amused by the way the boy was using his own words against him. “Why do you call it fucked up? Killing his own pack?”
“…Do I really have to explain that to you? Like, for real?”
“Yes,” Deucalion raised both his eyebrows. “Has Derek not become an Alpha through killing his own pack, his own family? And before him, has Peter not become Alpha through killing his own niece? We aren’t human, dear boy. We’re werewolves. The rules we play by are different. Our morals are different. Killing is not something to be shunned and frowned upon. You kill, you are the victor, you gain the power. Many Alphas choose to live a docile life, tending to a pack. Others, like us, don’t. We are beasts, vicious and ferocious, and we live that way.”
He let his Beta-shift overcome him and he snarled at the boy, red eyes and fangs. The omega’s breath hitched and there was a curious note of arousal accompanying the scent of fear. Truly what a peculiar creature.
“Okay,” the omega cleared his throat. “Honestly, point taken. Still, total deal-breaker for Derek, I’m afraid. And, besides, you don’t want Derek in your pack. The guy is a total downer. All gloom and doom and angry eyebrows. Not a lot of fun. He would just angst so much about every kill, you don’t want that.”
Deucalion hummed and suppressed a smile at that. He had to admit, when he had set his eyes on Beacon Hills, it was for Peter. The former Left Hand knew that killing was not just a necessary evil but part of their nature and Deucalion was sure that if Peter were still an Alpha, he would gladly join Deucalion’s pack. Alas, by the time Deucalion and his pack were free to come to Beacon Hills, Peter had already been put in the ground by Derek and plans had to be adjusted.
“What else do you want? Surely you haven’t come all this way just for Derek. Your pack is made up of five Alphas, two of whom share an Alpha spark. So you aren’t exactly going around recruiting a whole lot of people. Surely sentimentality isn’t the only thing to bring you here, now. Laura was Hale Alpha before and she only had Derek, it would have been easy for you to recruit her in New York, if you really wanted a Hale Alpha – after all, she seemed to be ruthless and not care much for pack, considering she never even noticed that Cora was still alive out there and how willing she was to just abandon Peter.”
A very smart boy. Deucalion couldn’t help the delighted smile. He cared for his pack, but they were more the punch first types, less for intricate plans and seeing the bigger picture. This omega was very good at putting the bigger picture into focus.
“I’m also here for Scott McCall,” Deucalion offered after a moment, figuring that it won’t hurt to give the boy what he wanted, perhaps it would indeed speed things along. “The True Alpha.”
“The what now,” the omega sputtered out a laugh. “I don’t know what a True Alpha is but Scotty is a Beta. Not even a very good one, to be honest. I mean, I love the guy, but he was struggling with this whole werewolf thing.”
“A True Alpha is a wolf who rises to Alphahood not through killing but through his own virtue and natural inclinations. A born Alpha, if you will.”
The laughter increased, startling Deucalion. “Man, I don’t know where you got that misinformation from, but someone is having fun at your expense there. Scott is not a born Alpha. The guy has been following my lead since we were like ten.”
“I was informed that he has formed his own pack, separate from the Hale Pack, and that as a Beta. It’s a sign of his potential,” Deucalion corrected the omega indulgently.
“Yeah, no,” the boy snorted. “We, as a group, may have worked against Peter when he was still feral and against the Argents, but that’s not a pack. There is no pack aside from the Hale Pack.”
Deucalion pressed his lips together in a displeased frown. Marin had made it sound like this McCall boy had potential, was leading his own pack-to-be already. But if what the omega was saying was true, then McCall had more potential to be a feral wolf than a pack Alpha. He would have to investigate these claims further.
“So,” the omega got up and walked toward him. “There is no True Alpha here. And you don’t want either of them in your pack. Consider your options. And then leave.”
Bold. It was impressive, the bravery on that boy. Where it would usually make Deucalion want to tear someone apart, he found himself thrilled in this case. Challenged, but in a wholly different way. This boy, he thought, would make an excellent addition to his pack.
/break\
Stiles sat down and talked to Peter. Not necessarily his favorite thing to do, because the wolf was a master manipulator and a wordsmith who would put Loki to shame. However, he was also the only person with personal history with Deucalion, aside from Deaton. And, well, Stiles would rather ask Peter than Deaton. At least with Peter, Stiles knew the motivation behind the manipulations – his own personal gain, preferably in the form of power.
Deaton? Stiles knew the man was shady and he knew the man’s track-record of half-truths and full-on lies, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out the motivation. What had Deaton gained from not telling Derek that he had called Laura back to Beacon Hills, about the deer with the spiral caved into it? He must have known Peter was the Alpha long before any of them. Nothing had been gained by prolonging the miscommunication and mistrust between Stiles, Scott and Derek.
So, yeah. Stiles rather took the devil he understood than the shady druid he couldn’t decipher.
Men who were forged by their past were far more interesting than those who were just… bad people. Gerard and Kate and their deeply ingrained bigotry? Eh. Deucalion, who used to be a visionary who believed in peace, whose personality and goals had been warped by something horrific? Stiles was… intrigued.
It wasn’t like Deucalion woke up one day and decided to slaughter his pack. He’d been blinded by Gerard, had half his pack killed by the hunter, the other half deciding a blind Alpha unfit to lead them and trying to kill him. Killing his Betas in self-defense and licking blood, gaining power.
What really bothered Stiles was that… Deucalion was right. Werewolves did operate on different morals than humans. Killing wasn’t just widely accepted, it was how they gained power. So what did it matter who they killed for that power? Be that their Alpha to gain the Alpha status themselves, the way Derek had, the way Peter had before him, or by killing their Betas to absorb that power? And it had probably been easier for Deucalion too, killing traitors. Like for Peter.
The thing was though that Derek wasn’t like that. Derek was worn-down with guilt already. He was trying to build something, so desperately clinging onto the past – his family, their territory, the idea of a Hale Pack. It would absolutely break Derek to kill his own Betas, he still blamed himself for the death of his family, after all.
Besides, against better judgment, Stiles had somewhat grown attached to them, so he would prefer them in a general not-dead state.
And then there was that whole stuff about Scott to unpack. A load of bullshit if Stiles had ever heard it. Scott was a Beta, a not very successful one – what with how long it had taken him to learn control, how much he fought against his wolf instead of embracing his instincts, how he had now successfully turned his back on two Alphas (and while, super fair when it came to Peter, Stiles found it bewildering with Derek, after how much they had relied on each other and how Derek had, quite literally, saved Scott’s life only days prior). So that was being interpreted as a potential for a True Alpha, not meshing with other Alphas. Stiles remained doubtful.
As always when feeling that way, Stiles threw himself into research. He did his best to dig everything out about True Alphas that he could, and what he found was shady at best. Virtuous, righteous Beta wolves who just became Alphas out of the goodness of their hearts, or whatever.
Stiles hated to think it, but especially with the reminder from Deucalion about how werewolf society worked, this just didn’t sound right. In a society where murder is rewarded – gaining Alphahood, but also what Deucalion and his pack were doing, Alphas killing their own Betas and gaining strength and power from it – why would the opposite be rewarded in a special snowflake kind of way?
Not to mention, it made absolutely no sense for Scott. Sure, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison and Jackson had all worked together against Peter and then in protecting either-Lydia-or-Jackson from the Hale Pack for maybe being the kanima, but… Scott and Stiles hadn’t spoken to Lydia or Allison all summer, Jackson left the country during the summer and if Stiles was very honest with himself, things between him and Scott were trained too, after Gerard’s torture basement. That Stiles’ best friend hadn’t even asked about the very prominent bruising on his face. And that throwaway comment from Scott, when Scott had complained about having lost everything but Stiles had told him that he still had Stiles, for Scott to so dismissively say that he had had Stiles before. Like Stiles was just a given. Not special. It had hurt.
So, five months after the warehouse show-down, Scott was pretty much a lone wolf. Had been one for actual literal months. Where the Alpha Pack saw any kind of Alpha potential there really was beyond Stiles.
Hell, it was beyond Stiles why or how the Alpha Pack even knew about Scott. What they had done together, as a group, against Peter, the Hale Pack and the Argents, it hadn’t exactly been large scale, nobody had been involved who could leave Beacon Hills and run their mouth. It was all moderately small scale and localized.
Stiles’ pencil fell from his hand as his eyes widened. Oh. That was why Deaton continuously antagonized the Hales and alienated Scott from them, including the bullshit plan of poisoning Gerard and using Derek as a weapon instead of just talking to Derek and making a plan with him. Deaton wanted Scott to be an Alpha and that couldn’t happen while Scott was loyal to another Alpha. Deaton leaked these fake news out into the world, like that would will it into existence. Deaton was also the brother of Dr. Morrell – born as Marin Deaton, married to a Braeden Morrell and having taken on her wife’s name after the wedding.
Stiles scrambled off his chair and grabbed a pen and cards. His corkboard wall was cleared, now that they finally found and freed Boyd and Erica. Time to solve the next mystery: Why did Deaton want Scott to be an Alpha so badly?
/break\
Mieczysław Stilinski was truly fascinating. Marin confirmed Deucalion’s suspicion. The scent of lightning and danger, nature and wildness. The omega was a Spark. He’d drawn Marin’s attention already during school counseling and she was able to provide Deucalion with more information.
Seventeen years old, as of five months ago. Only son of Sheriff Noah Stilinski and his late wife Claudia, who had died eight years ago. ADHD, anxiety, highly intelligent. Top of all of his classes, but beyond book smart – the one to figure out why Deucalion had kept the Betas locked away for months, instrumental in solving most of the local problems in recent months.
A beautiful, unmated omega, smart and cunning too. Ruthless as well, according to Peter.
Yes, Deucalion had met the former Left Hand for lunch the other day, wanting to learn more about Stiles, as the omega preferred to be called. It seemed Stiles had been the first one to set Peter on fire in the ‘group project’ that was the man’s murder.
Everything Deucalion learned about Stiles made him want the omega more.
And the omega had given Deucalion vital and interesting information regarding Scott McCall. He had his pack watch the boy and research everything about Scott that could be important.
What Stiles had said was true, there was no such thing as a McCall Pack. From the list of associates and possible candidates that Marin had provided them, most were a nonstarter. Jackson Whittemore lived in England now. Allison Argent had broken up with Scott and not been seen with him for months. Lydia Martin likewise had not spent time with or interacted with Scott until the school year started and they were in class together. The same went for Danny Mahealani.
Additionally, Deucalion had set Aiden and Ethan onto Lydia and Danny, to make sure. Scott didn’t even warn the two teenagers about the fact that they were romantically and sexually involved with two murderous Alpha werewolves, so clearly he didn’t care too much about either of their safety.
There was Stiles, of course.
“I’m glad you could make it, sweet boy.”
“Not my name,” Stiles sounded irritated.
“Mh, I distinctly remember you not giving me your name,” Deucalion smiled sharply and pulled the chair out for Stiles.
The boy’s scent sweetened in flattered, surprised embarrassment. It only sharpened Deucalion’s smile. The Alpha sat back down opposite the boy. They were in a diner, where Deucalion had at this point frequently eaten with his pack, meaning he knew the layout and the menu.
“I highly recommend their milkshakes,” Deucalion offered casually when a waitress brought them the menus.
Deucalion put his own menu down, the laminated piece of paper being utterly useless to the blind wolf. The reason he had chosen this establishment; the fact that he knew his way around, knew what he wanted. Wouldn’t have to rely on someone else to be his eyes, the way he might have in other restaurants. He liked to project strength and an untouchable nature.
“Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”
“How about we order first? I’m sure you must be hungry. Lacrosse practice is taxing, or so I have been told.”
A stretch of tense silence. “You’re paying.”
A pleased smile spread over Deucalion’s lips as he nodded. “Naturally.”
He loved the idea of providing for the delightful omega, it pleased his inner alpha. They ordered and waited for their drinks. Stiles seemed to relax after a couple slurps from his own milkshake, his scent no longer as sour and irritated as before.
“Well,” Stiles made that one word sound like a whole statement.
“I am… inclined to believe your claims that Scott McCall isn’t a True Alpha,” Deucalion offered, leaning back in his booth. “I’ve had my pack observe and trail him. Not only does he not seem concerned with Miss Martin and Mister Mahealani’s safety, considering the threat my pack poses to you all at the moment, he has also been observed throwing one of the Hale Betas around in anger upon… girl problems, if Aiden reported that correctly.”
“What,” Stiles’ breath hitched in surprise.
“Mh, the way he tells it, the other Beta had expressed interest in Miss Argent and a desire to kiss her and Mister McCall resorted to physical violence. Now, if my information is correct, Mister McCall and Miss Argent are no longer involved, so there is no claim to jealousy. Even beyond that, this kind of behavior – demanding obedience and enforcing it through violent means – is the direct opposite of what a True Alpha would display. So I’m inclined to agree with your assessment.”
“The asshole knows exactly that Isaac was abused by his father,” Stiles muttered beneath his breath, his scent souring.
How very interesting and delightful. From what Deucalion could tell, Stiles was the strongest tie Scott had – which, again, not exactly in favor of the boy being a True Alpha. A born leader who should inspire loyalty would be surrounded by a fledgling pack, even before reaching Alphahood, only claiming that power because they gathered a pack around them that now needed a leader. There was no leadership and no potential pack. Deucalion had wasted his time on this one.
“I so hate being wrong and I hate being disappointed,” Deucalion heaved a put-upon sigh. “So you understand that I simply must have Derek in my pack now.”
“You don’t wanna leave empty handed,” Stiles sighed annoyed. “I do understand that. But you gotta understand that you can’t have him. He’s the Alpha of Beacon Hills, these lands have been his family’s territory for centuries. He’s not giving up on them and we are not giving up on him.”
Deucalion pursed his lips. He found the boy’s fierce determination and stubborn nature appealing. It would be much more appealing if Deucalion wasn’t on the receiving end of it though.
“It appears we have reached a stalemate then,” Deucalion turned to smile at the waitress when he heard her clicking heels and heartbeat. “Thank you, dear.”
The young omega’s scent sweetened with attraction, something Deucalion was quite used to. Stiles’ scent opposite him soured in annoyance. My, one could nearly think the boy was jealous. How delightfully amusing. Deucalion picked up his burger after he found it placed at the right side of his plate and waited idly while Stiles considered his next steps.
“What will it take for you to leave Derek and the Hale Pack alone?”
A pleased and greedy smile spread over Deucalion’s lips. “You.”
Baffled silence stretched on for minutes while Deucalion ate, allowing the young omega to let that sink in. Deucalion had come to this conclusion a few days ago already. Part of him was sure that Stiles was right too, Derek wasn’t a fit for the Alpha Pack. He may have killed Peter, but he was burdened with so much guilt. Ennis, Kali, Aiden and Ethan had all been eager to join his pack. What good would an angry Alpha do him who would fight him every step of the way?
But the intriguing omega didn’t need to know any of that.
“I’m not even a wolf, much less an Alpha, what would you even want with me?”
“I think that a strong Alpha mate would strengthen and stabilize my pack,” Deucalion offered.
“You… want me as…” Stiles trailed off, sounding stunned. “Me? Why? Me? I’m just human. Not even a wolf, as I just pointed out. What good would I do as the Alpha mate in your pack?”
“You are not ‘just’ anything, sweet one,” Deucalion smiled amused and reached across the table until he found Stiles’ hand – the boy had been tapping at the table-top in a nervous habit. “You are very smart and also brave. You keep doing this, facing me all on your own with no backup. You are fiercely loyal too. And don’t sell yourself short, you are far beyond human, little Spark.”
Stiles tensed at that and, with his thumb on the boy’s wrist, Deucalion could feel the way his pulse jumped and not just hear it. He had soft skin too and if Deucalion rubbed a little more thoroughly to leave his scent on the omega, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.
It was cute though that Stiles thought Deucalion wouldn’t figure out he was a Spark.
“What’s a Spark?” Stiles asked warily.
Hm. Interesting. Deucalion tilted his head ever so slightly, listening for signs of deception. He couldn’t hear any, the boy sounded genuine.
“You don’t even know what you are, what power you wield,” Deucalion hummed curiously. “A Spark is a powerful magic user, but surely the Hale Pack’s Emissary has told you all about it. If Marin could sense your Spark, then so could Alan.”
Stiles’ scent soured. Also interesting. The boy huffed, followed by the sounds of eating.
“So being a Spark is special. Special enough that you want me as, what, your trophy mate?”
“As my equal,” Deucalion corrected. “Sparks are incredibly powerful, if they learn how to use that power. I have the resources and knowledge to teach you, together with Marin. I would help you achieve your potential and in return, I want you to use that power for my pack. As the Alpha mate. If you agree to these terms, I’ll leave Derek and his pack alone too.”
“No more forced murder,” Stiles cut in sharply. “If – and that is a big if – I agree to become your Alpha mate, this shit you pulled with Derek is the last time. Surely there are enough Alphas out there who lost their pack, much like you have, or like Peter had before his death. Recruit those. I won’t play a part in this twisted shit.”
Deucalion leaned back thoughtfully. The boy had a point. This whole trial with Derek was exhausting and not fruitful. There surely was a more effective way to find new recruits. If those were even needed. The power of a Spark would go a long way.
“I will discuss it with my pack and think on it,” Deucalion offered after a long moment.
“Then I’ll think on it too and discuss it with my pack. I’ll let you know when I made my decision.”
/break\
So Stiles’ decision largely hinged on his dad, who was just generally super not a fan of any of this. Stiles himself would have flat-out said no, if not for the offer to teach him about his magic. He shouldn’t be surprised that being a Spark was much more than a little bit of mountain ash manipulation. He should have known that Deaton was full of shit. Stiles wanted to know and he also thought that as the Alpha mate, he would have certain control over them. Well, not control, but oversight. A say in the matter.
And weird recruitment practices aside, he kind of liked their whole deal. Liked it even more when he stood before Deucalion, blood dripping from the Alpha’s claws as he held Jennifer Blake’s torn-out throat in his hand. He’d done the thing nobody else seemed able to do. He ended the threat.
“This, dear boy, is what we do,” Deucalion told him with a sharp smile. “We eliminate threats.”
Stiles knew they didn’t necessarily do it out of the goodness of their hearts – though he also was aware that there was a certain part of Deucalion who did that, did what nobody had done for him, what Talia had been too short-sighted to do with Gerard – since they could absorb the power of the supernatural creatures they ended.
In that moment, with Deuc standing above the dead body of the woman who had killed Heather, who had kidnapped his dad, who had tried to strangle Lydia, who had poisoned the entire pack and tried to drive them into suicide – Stiles knew his answer was yes. Because he wanted that power, he wanted to learn about his own magic, and he didn’t want this man to go after them.
It just took a little more arguing and convincing with his dad. In the end, a compromise was found where the matebond would be sealed after graduation, when Stiles would be eighteen and old enough not just by supernatural standards but by human law too.
Deucalion agreed to wait and to return in a year and a half. Before the Alpha Pack parted, he left Stiles a stack of books on Sparks and general magic, for him to study on his own.
He also left a torn-out human heart in a heart-shaped box with a silver bow on it. Stiles didn’t need a note to know it was Gerard Argent’s and that Deucalion had finally taken his own revenge on the hunter. Apparently, Deucalion also knew what the man had done to Stiles.
It was probably concerning that Stiles found himself mildly turned on by the action. The fact that the alpha had killed the person who’d tortured Stiles. There was safety, protection and even comfort in the action. Maybe he was a better fit for the Alpha Pack than he was willing to admit just yet.
/break\
The Alpha Pack returned when graduation neared. The next courting gift Stiles received from his mate-to-be was the torn-out heart of Theo Raeken. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but the chimera mysteriously disappeared just as Stiles found the heart. After how hard Stiles had fought to be believed, to have the people around him distrust Theo, after what Theo had done to Stiles – the manipulations, the wedge between Stiles and Scott, Donovan hunting Stiles and threatening both him and his father – it had been a massive relief.
“Hello, dear boy,” Deuc smiled as he approached Stiles. “I do hope you are a Spark of your word.”
Stiles regarded the handsome alpha for a very long moment. Over the months since he had last seen Deucalion, the wolf had only grown more handsome. And Stiles? Stiles had grown more powerful. The books Deucalion had provided – and kept providing him, sending him new ones regularly (also sending him flowers, food and chocolates, in a more traditional courting) – had helped him hone his skills. If he really wanted to, Stiles could end Deucalion on the spot.
He didn’t want to.
Because Deucalion had killed Gerard. Because Deucalion had taught Stiles about his Spark. Because Deucalion had now killed Theo. Because Stiles wanted to leave this damn town. Because Stiles wanted to end threats before they could become overwhelming. Because no alpha had ever been interested in him like that, so intense and invested. Because Stiles wanted.
“I am,” Stiles said with a smile, stepping up to his future mate and taking his hand. “I see no new additions to the pack, so you haven’t done any shady, creepy recruiting, as you promised.”
“I am an Alpha of my word, little Spark,” Deucalion whispered, standing so close.
“Good,” Stiles leaned in until his lips were about to touch Deuc’s. “Then take me away from here.”
The kiss they shared was electrifying and filled with what was to come. Possessive, passionate and protective. Stiles couldn’t wait to see what the future would hold for him. For them.
~*~ The End ~*~