A/N: This is a work in progress, and I'm not sure how long it will take too finished.
This is the companion piece to Samhain: The Scent of Moonlight.
Lydia's father is a bit of an asshole in this, I decided to focus on the Mr. Martin we met during the parent/teacher meeting in season one rather than the concerned father of season two. (Which I heartily admit is a plot device.) And Jackson's secret lover is not tagged because I want it to be a surprise. It's always fun to read your reviews and your guesses, so please, let me know.
Now on with the story. Enjoy.
Encounters In the Dark
Unlike many in her junior class, Lydia Martin had absolutely no desire to be chosen. She wasn't just saying that to sound aloof or modest or whatever, she really didn't. Being chosen meant that she'd be stuck. Stuck in small town America for the rest of her damn life raising damn kids and running the damn PTA. - Which of course she would be president of because she was Lydia Martin thank you very much. - She did not what that to be her life. She'd made that very clear to her parents at the tender again of six. The problem was life had a way of shitting on a girls plans for world domination.
First it had been her parents' divorce, which had left her a wreck and her parents a simpering pair of four year olds arguing over anything and everything. Then had come her attack, which had been when it all really changed. In sophomore year while out parking with her boyfriend, Jackson, they'd been attacked by a rouge werewolf. They'd both been bitten, Jackson had turned, and she hadn't. In fact she'd lain in a coma for almost a week, then was a blithering mess for months after, leading to her breaking up with Jackson for a solid year, before fate intervened again.
That's when she - As well has everyone else in town. - had discovered her immunity to the bite. Lydia had thought it was an answer to her prayers. After all what kind of wolf would want a mate he couldn't turn? She'd thought it would mean she didn't have to go through the whole stupid, medieval Samhain Run. Huh, how wrong has she been?
As it turned out, despite her low chances of being a mate to any wolf, she was still forced to attend the ceremony, still has to sit on cold hard dirt all damn night just like every other member of the sophomore class. - Except those who'd been smart enough to get the hell out of town, of course. Lord she envied them now.
She'd planned on doing that, skipping town, going to visit her grandmother in Maine until this whole stupid business was over. Then her father had dropped the mother of all bombshells.
The sound of movement in the woods caught her attention and she glanced around in the dark, seeing nothing beyond the trees and leaves. Howls filled the air, announcing mates being chosen. She glanced down at her watch and frowned at the dark face, she didn't know what was keeping Jackson, but she wished he'd hurry the hell up. She was cold and bored and her butt was growing numb.
When her father had first told her that he'd lost everything, she'd been pissed. Not because it meant there was every chance of them losing their family home, or because she wouldn't be able to buy Prada or Dior any longer. No, she'd been pissed because it meant that if she wanted out of this damn hick town and to go to MIT she'd have to sell her soul, as well as her body and blood to the highest bidder. It meant that her immunity went from being a prayer come true to a lock and chain.
Because as it turned out, plenty of families were looking to rid themselves of the tainted blood, wanting their grandchildren to be born human. Because that's what her immunity did, it guaranteed a wolf free future and while born wolves like the Hales were in no rush to disown their heritage, those whose family members had been turned were overjoyed at the idea of giving their bloodlines an enema. - And front of that line was the Whitmore's.
Which was how Lydia found herself sat in the middle of the Beacon Hills preserve, shivering in her year old designer winter coat, wearing a god-damn plastic mask that was doing nothing for her complexion, waiting for her boyfriend.
_Samhain: When Midnight's Moon Wains_
Peter had no idea what he was thinking coming back here. He knew Talia wasn't going to exactly welcome him with open arms after everything that had happened seven years ago, like it was his fault some crazy teenager had tried to kill them all. Like he wasn't completely justified in ripping the little bitch's throat out. If Talia had been a stronger alpha she'd have done it herself. - And if she tried to forcing him to leave again, he'd tell her so. This was his home, as much as hers. He had every right to be here. She'd had no right to force him to leave just to save face in front of a town of pitch-fork whiling humans. He'd been doing his duty and revenging the pack, she was just too soft to see that.
Tightening his fingers around the steering wheel of his sleek black BMW, he turned his face up to the moon, his blood already beginning to race from its pull. The howls of distant wolves drew his attention and he exhaled slowly, glancing regretfully into the rear-view mirror at the sleeping for of his daughter, then out at the dark woodland that surrounded Beacon Hills. Woods he'd known all his life.
He'd missed out on his final chance at finding a mate because of his nephew's insane bitch of a girlfriend. He'd languished in a coma for almost two years after the fire, missing his twenty seventh birthday. So here he was, a wolf without a mate, shunned by his pack and with a teenage daughter in tow.
Malia had been a shock of a life time. Two years after waking from his coma and being ordered out of town, a young girl he hadn't seen before in his life had shown up at his apartment in San Francisco and announced "Congratulates, you're a father." apparently her mom had died only a week before, leaving her his name and address. To say he'd been skeptical would be an understatement but thankfully he'd known where to go for confirmation. DNA, even werewolf DNA, didn't lie. - So for the past three years it had just been him and Malia.
Peter turned his car into the parking lot of the Beacon Hills Motel, sighing wearily. He'd rather be staying at his house, the one he'd brought at the tender age of nineteen in hopes of raising a family with the mate he'd expected to find. Except he hadn't found a mate and probably never would now. He knew that didn't mean he couldn't settle down, have more children. He was still young by werewolf standards, but he'd lost his chance at find a mate thought The Run. If he married now it would be to an outsider and Peter would rather be alone than trust an outsider.
Releasing his fingers one at a time from the steering wheel, he turned and reached over to gently shake Malia. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up to look around, sleepy and confused.
"We're here?"
"Yes." Peter nodded, turning back and reaching for the door. "You coming?"
Peter didn't wait for his daughter to exit the car, leaving her he walked swiftly to the reception office to inquire about two rooms, inhaling deeply of the fresh cold Beacon Hills air. There was something intoxicating about it, the scent catching his senses. Shaking it off, he stepped into the small cold office.
When he exited again a few minutes later with two keys, leaving a flustered pretty woman watching after him, he inhaled again, the scent catching his nose and he looked over to the distant tree line. The familiar haunting sound of howling tugging at his insides, poking at his already restless wolf. Turning back to the car he caught sight of Malia staring at the same woods while leaning patiently against the vehicle, intrigued. She should be out there tonight, running with the pack, hunting for a mate. Despite not being a werewolf, she was still a Hale and she still had the same primal instincts. He'd spoken to her before leaving San Francisco, but she'd insisted she wasn't interested in find a mate. She was too young, she didn't want to settle down yet.
Peter knew the truth of it though, she wasn't at ne in her own skin. She hated what she was, hated the lack of control. He knew that was partly due to her lacking a pack. Her mother, a shifter named Selena, was a loner. It came with being part coyote. She didn't need the pack the same way he did. But Malia was part wolf too, she needed that grounding influence and he'd tried to be that. To be the strong alpha she needed, but he was lacking something.
And that was why he was back if he were honest. To give Malia a chance to connect and find the anchor she needed and as much as he hated to admit it, Talia would know how to help her do that.
Stopping by the car he looked at his wary, almost skittish daughter. "You sure you don't want to run?" he asked gently.
She practically jumped; turning to look at him sharply. Her head shaking fiercely. "I want to sleep." she announced harshly, holding her hand for the key.
He watched her disappear into the dark room and inhaled deeply, pinching at the bridge of his nose as his eyes drifted closed. He allowed himself to savor the scent of home. - And something else utterly intoxicating.
_Samhain: When Midnight's Moon Wains_
He smelt her before he saw her. Her scent overpowering to his senses. Not the lingering hint of perfume she obviously wore everyday but her natural aroma, reminding him of the ocean. Salty and fresh, and eternal. Peter took another few steps and there she was, sat on a large pale punk blanket, her legs curled up beneath her, clad in while like an angel. The moon ricocheted off the pure whiteness of the mask but he didn't need to see beneath it, her scent, and the pull he felt told him all he needed to know.
"You're beautiful." he whispered smoothly from the shadow of a large redwood. His shoulder pressing against it for a few moments as he watched her face turn towards him in surprise, her whole posture stiffening, her head rising defiantly. He couldn't help but smile, his lips curling slowly at the corner of his mouth before stretching into a large long river of white teeth.
"And you're a creep, what the hell are you doing sneaking around the woods like that?" she scowled at him, her eyes burning bright even in the dark, through the small eye holes in the mask.
"Looking for you." Peter smirked, moving slowly forward. "It's why you're here isn't it? Looking for a mate?" his words slipping off his tongue like syrup.
The young woman shifted on the ground, pushing her back against the tree behind her the closer he got. "I'm not..." she trailed off as he crouched in front of her, his knees brushing hers. "I don't want a mate." she finally said, steadying her slightly shaky voice.
Peter looked at her intently. "Then why are you here?"
"I'm...I'm waiting for my boyfriend."
Peter's smirk grew into a grin but his eyes were steel. Leaning further into her personal space, he dragged a stray stranded of feather-soft, strawberry blonde hair between his fingers before sweeping it back behind her ear then pushed himself forward, dropping his nose into the pool of the young woman's collarbone and inhaling deeply, feeling a spark of arousal shoot through his body. He could hear her heart pounding, her blood racing, the way her breath caught in her throat as she unconsciously tilted her head to bare her neck to him.
Less than a second later she seemed to catch herself and forced her head straight, her hands lifting to push him away, though they never quite made it to his chest, hovering between them as Peter drew closer ever so slightly, dragging his nose up the column of her throat, his cheek sweeping roughly against the mask, his breath ghosting at her ear before he spoke. "You haven't been claimed." he announced in a throaty whisper, smirking at the spike in the teenagers arousal.
"I..." she swallowed thickly before tying again. "I don't want to be climbed."
Peter didn't move his cheek from the mask, his hand bracing his weight either side of her hips, pressing her further back against the tree she'd been resting against before he'd arrived. "Then why are you here?" he asked softly.
"I...I mean...I don't want to be claimed by you." the last two words fell from her lips on a breath.
"No?"
She shook her head, inhaling sharply.
"You're waiting for another to claim you?" he asked skeptically. "You're boyfriend?"
"Yes. - He'll be here soon." she announced with false conviction.
Peter glanced up at the moon without moving his face too far from hers. "You've been here an hour already. If he was going to claim you he'd have found you by now."
She looked at him with a mix of fury and hurt, her mouth gaping open as if she wasn't sure just what to say. Which he had a feeling was a new experience for her. Finally she inhaled sharply, straightening her back and fixed him with a hard murderous stare. "He's just late." he voice firm and unwavering for the first time since he'd found her. "Jackson'll be here."
Peter smiled, loving the flare of anger lighting up her eyes like fireworks in the night sky. He pulled away slowly, pausing for a moment to meet her furious gaze, then he got to his feet. "Well, if you're sure then I'll bow out gracefully." he took another couple of steps back before sweeping into a dramatically low bow like some kind of Victorian gentleman, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Good!" she said sharply, distracting herself by fussing with her coat.
Peter took a few steps away before stopping once again and looking at her, already knowing she'd been following his every movement with her eyes. "I'll see you around." he promised.
"I double it." she said waveringly.
Pete's lips curled mischievously before he turned and faded mysteriously into the darkness.
_Samhain: When Midnight's Moon Wains_
Lydia sat shock still watching the man vanish back into the shadows that had created him, her heart and blood racing so fast her body felt like it was on fire from the inside out. She couldn't quiet catch her breath as she pulled the mask from her face, looking up at the moon trying to judge just how long she'd been there, but couldn't tell. He'd said it had been an hour and that if Jackson was going to come then he'd have already been there, so where the hell was he? Why wasn't he there claiming her like they'd arranged?
Lowering her eyes from the sky they instantly sort out the empty space the stranger had vanished into. She couldn't stop staring, her mind whirling at the heat in her body and the way her senses seemed to scream. She raised her hand to her ear where she was sure she could still feel his breath. Her nostrils flaring with the lingering scent of him. His smooth seductive voice still ringing in her ears.
Lydia's breath caught in her chest as images whirled around her mind of that voice whispering her name while moving against her. Inside her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled shakily, her tongue slipping between her lips to choose away the sudden dryness of them.
When a distant howl caught her attention she leapt to her feet, looking around her as she swiped her hands over her thighs to clear away the debris from the forest flood. She was so tempted to just leave, to walk away from the ridiculous situation but what if she did and Jackson came looking for her. Though a small voice in her head, which was suddenly all too familiar and breathless, whispered that if he wanted her he'd already be there.
Huffing frustratingly at herself and Jackson - And the stranger. - she pulled her coat tight around her once more, flipping her long hair in the building winter breeze and lowered herself back down onto the blanket. She didn't replace her mask, it wasn't like Jackson didn't know what she looked like already.
_Samhain: Midnight Masquerade_
Peter stepped into the house, the floor scattered with leaves and dust from the years of disuse, his eyes scanning the empty entranceway as he moved further. He would have to make it presentable if he was going to live there, raise a family. He inhaled deeply and was glad to find the young woman's scent still clinging to him. He couldn't believe he'd found her. He'd given up all hope of ever gaining a mate. - And she was perfect. Not just because of the way she called to him but because he could see the strength and fire that lay within her. He could already envision a future with her. Their life together and he grinned. "She's going to make a hell of a wolf."
_Samhain: When Midnight's Moon Wains_
Lydia groaned softly as she got to her feet, shivering from the early morning cold. Glancing around, she inhaled the fresh damp air. She hadn't expected to be waking up in the pre-dawn hours alone. She wondered where Jackson could possibly be.
A sudden sound of running feet had her swing around to stare at the trees, as a mere moment later her missing boyfriend appeared, flushed. His eyes narrowed as he moved within touching distance.
"Where the hell have you been?" Lydia demanded furiously, her arms folded tightly over her chest and her foot tapping against the dew-soaked leaves.
Jackson stalked forward slowly, his nose turned towards her. "Who's been here?" he demanded with equal fury, his voice rough as if he'd just woken.
"Not you that's for sure." she huffed defensively, turning angrily on her heels and marching away, only to be halted by Jackson's painfully strong hand on her upper-arm.
"We have an arrangement!" he stated firmly, his ton ice cold, his usual blue eyes flashing amber in the morning light.
"I'm here." she pointed out with a dangerous kind of calm. She'd never been intimidated by Jackson, even after he was turned and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now.
"Not alone!" he growled, pressing his face closer to hers, snarling.
Lydia stiffened, meeting the amber eyes, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed at him. "And where were you?" she demanded, trying to see if she could smell some other girl on him, but all she could find was a faint trace of aftershave.
Jackson paled at the demanding question, rather than answer her, he slackened his grip and began to lead her towards the parking lot, his jaw tightly locked.
Lydia stared up at him as they walked, her eyes narrowing. She knew Jackson was hiding something, it was there in his body language, in the way he couldn't meet her eyes, but it wasn't until they hit the parking area and the last of the lit street lamp hit his neck that she knew her original accusation was correct. She probably should have screamed at him, yelled, demanded answers, and two years ago she very well would have. But the truth was she didn't care enough to. Part of her desperately wanted him to call a halt to this whole fiasco. This relationship that had kept them tangled in a web of lies for over a year.
It hadn't always been like that, once upon a time she actually did love Jackson, but since he was turned something hadn't sat right between them. When her family had brought up the Samhain Rite and the Whitmore's offer, it had only added to the strain.
If Jackson call it off though, nether of their parents could blame her. It wouldn't be her destroying her family, her mom. - No, that had been her father's doing and no doubt he'd find a way to lay the blame if Mr. Whitmore withdraw his financial support from them at her feet. That she hadn't been beautiful enough, that she hadn't fought to keep him interested. That she'd been too smart, cause guys didn't like girls that were smarter than them. Yeah, it would all be her fault in his eyes. It didn't matter that they wouldn't be in this mess if he could add-up correctly. Proving once again that she'd gotten her brains for her mother.
But Jackson would never call it off. Jackson would go along with anything to impress his parents, to fit in, to be the best and all because he'd been adopted, like he needed to prove he was worthy of them having chosen him as their son.
They paused beside Jackson's Porsche, Lydia moving to grab the door when he gripped her wrist tightly, his blue eyes burning into hers once more. "Don't tell anyone that I didn't find you." it was an order; harsh and cold, and it bit deeply into Lydia's last nerve.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" she challenged furiously. "If you don't want this Jackson, then just say so. - Why keep up this farce? - Who is she?"
Jackson's hand tightened painfully. She looked down and could already see the skin reddening but she didn't make a sound, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, and she just gritted her teeth, breathing though her nose as her boyfriend took a dangerous step close to her, his face inches from hers. "Keep your mouth shut! You've got more to lose than I have Lydia. I'd hate for everyone to learn about your situation."
Lydia narrowed her eyes, swallowed the words and tears that were fighting for dominance in her throat. It had been a long time since she'd given up hope of recapturing those early happy years of their relationship.
Jackson's hand was gone in a breath and he stepped away, heading for the driver's side. "Get in the car. I'll drive you home. - And make sure you shower before tonight, you stink." he spat.
Lydia slid into the seat hating herself more than she ever thought possible. She should have the strength to tell Jackson where to shove it, to stand up to her family, but she didn't, despite what everyone at school thought of her, she wasn't strong. She wasn't heartless. Closing her eyes she let her head lull to the side, pressing against the cold window, not caring about the condensation on her skin. Her fingers rubbing absently at her wrist.
As the car moved away from the parking lot she sort sanctuary of a warmer, gentler touch, wishing not for the first time since meeting her stranger that she hadn't chased him away.
_Samhain: When Midnight's Moon Wains_
Peter stretched out on the bed; staring out at the first beams of sunlight breaking through the motel room curtains. He hadn't slept, his mind filled with an intoxicating scent and a blanket of soft red hair he craved seeing spread out on the pillow beside him. Watching the day breaking, he sighed at the thought of his faceless beauty walking out of the woods alone. - Or maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe the one she'd been waiting for when he'd found her had escorted her from the trees. Peter growled, his fingers tightening in the sheets, his nails piecing holes. She was his, that much was obvious to him and he was sure to her too. The idea that someone else was attempting to stake a claim to her made his blood boil. He was simply just going to have to make his position clear to the whole of Beacon Hills and the Samhain Ceremony was the perfect place to do it.
Until then thought he had a daughter and a house to see to.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that you'll be back for more. I'll try to make the next chapter longer.
I have a couple of notes.
1: I know it was greatly speculated as to who Lydia's mysterious lover was, well as the tags had already informed you, its Peter. Honestly, I thought more of you would have figured that out.
2: I went with twenty-seven as the cut off age for The Run randomly, though I figured it had to be old enough to make Peter too old but young enough for Derek to still take part. I also realize that the whole premise of the Samhain Rite/Run is extremely questionable, but I see it more as a cultural tradition that no one's ever decided to put a stop to. There's a lot of similar cultural/religious beliefs in the real world that many would see as dubious, outdate and practically primeval but the people involved in them see as perfectly normal. This isn't any different to that. [I'm not taking pot-shots at any particular religion or culture, I'm just state a general observation.]
3: For this story Malia was not adopted but rather her mother's name was Tate.
4: I apologies to any Jackson fan. He is coming across as an abusive boyfriend in this and it is not simply a plot devise but partly based on what I see in his character - particularly in season 2. His treatment of Lydia is appalling and frankly it baffles me how she could possibly go back to him. - Of course Peter's not much better in many respects. Personally I find Lydia's taste in men almost as questionable as Derek's taste in woman. They both seem to have a 'kick me, I like it' streak going through them.
I'd love to hear who you all think Jackson was with when he was meant to be in the wood with Lydia, though I will neither confirm nor deny any of your suspicions. You'll just have to wait for the reveal. - Any and all feedback is welcome.