A/N This story goes deep into topics like consent, free will, and power imbalance. There won't be rape but there will be heavy dub-con


The plan had been simple. Go into werewolf no-no land, find the feral betas, summon an alpha to roar them into submission, have a chat with the boy about why this was suddenly no-no land for werewolves, take care of that and then be home for dinner with a very grateful pack.

Stiles knew the plan had its flaws. For one he needed the shade he wanted to summon to be a real enough alpha werewolf to actually get through to the ferals but at the same time not so real that it would get affected by whatever it was that made werewolves go feral around here.

He would have liked to summon it right when he'd gotten out of the car but it was quite a hike and Stiles wasn't sure where exactly the werewolves were and it would be just his luck that he couldn't hold the shade any longer the second he found the betas.

So Stiles hiked through the woods alone, stumbling over roots hidden under dead leaves, or over roots in plain view but there wasn't anybody there to laugh over his ungraceful flailing.

Cursing under his breath he made his way to the remote area the local wolf pack liked to use for their full moon wolfy stuff.

When two of her wolves went missing around here Miranda, the alpha, had gone to investigate but she was smart enough to run in the other direction when she noticed something around here was very, very wrong.

There were some strong ley lines around here, Stiles felt them tingling at his fingertips, but that alone wasn't what was going on here. The lines had been here long before the wolves that had lived in this territory for centuries now. Without any feral incidents.

Whatever it was, it was new. Most likely related to the books Stiles had found under Ben's porn stash. But he would have a talk with the boy about that, the black magic books not the porn, once he could communicate with more than just animalistic grunts again. On the other hand, he was a teenager, animalistic grunts were basically his native language.

Stiles stopped to check his location on his phone but GPS was sketchy at best out here and he had only a general idea where he was heading anyway. He had a map and a compass with him as well but that wasn't really helpful either. Miranda had marked the area on the map but she could only tell where she'd felt that something was off and where their usual gathering spot was.

"Werewolves and their fucking love for the deep woods," Stiles muttered. There wasn't even a real path to follow.

Things went south when Stiles found the missing betas much earlier than he'd anticipated. Or rather, they found him.

Something came crashing through the under bushes and out of reflex Stiles started to summon his shade. Without the alpha, he barely stood a chance against two feral werewolves.

The wolf, Ben, jumped over the last bush, claws raised to attack, and Stiles only barely managed to duck out of the way. Ben landed with a roar and was on Stiles the next second.

It wasn't the first time that Stiles had been pinned to the ground by a snarling werewolf and it was still no fun. The impact knocked the wind out of him and for a second he wasn't sure which way was up and which was down.

"Son of a …" Stiles gasped and caught the claw aiming for his face by the wrist with both hands. The wolf was stronger than him, of course he was, but Stiles hadn't been running with wolves for over a decade now and had not picked up a thing or two.

Deaton had called him a spark. Stiles was still not sure what that meant. Deaton had been convinced that he would be the pack's next emissary and had tried to train him for that but turned out, neutrality didn't sit well with Stiles. An emissary had to keep the balance and Stiles could not let bad things happen to his pack just to keep the balance.

So he didn't become Scott's emissary. But he'd learned a few magic tricks on the way.

For example the electric shock he now sent through the wrist and up the arm of the werewolf sitting on his chest. It wasn't enough to knock him out or to force him to shift back but it was enough to make him yelp in a very doglike way and to jump off Stiles.

Stiles didn't stay to find out how much damage he had actually inflicted and scrambled to his feet. He couldn't outrun a werewolf, he knew that, and the mother should be around here somewhere too, but he didn't need to outrun them, he just needed to get away from them long enough to summon his superweapon.

Suddenly the second werewolf was in front of him. Anne, Ben's mother.

It was too late to change direction so he just picked up speed and with another scream, he ducked under her claws and rammed his shoulder into her ribs. Fueled with a little magic which knocked her into the next tree. It would gain him a few seconds.

Stiles kept running for a moment longer, not sure if he dared to stop and do the summoning, but then his foot got caught in a rabbit hole and he crashed.

That answers that question, Stiles thought and spit out dry leaves. He didn't waste time with turning around to see where the wolves were, he just closed his eyes and reached for that place in his mind where the shades were. That wasn't exactly how it worked, it was more of a way to visualize what he was trying to do but as long as it worked, Stiles didn't question it. Too much.

Leaves crunched under heavy boots but that got lost rather quickly in the noises of the feral betas. They were coming for him and they would kill him when they got the chance but Stiles wasn't worried any longer.

Calmly he turned around.

And was looking right at the ass of his shade.

Stiles hadn't been more specific than alpha werewolf when he'd given this shade form but somehow he'd expected it to look like Scott. His alpha and best friend, true alpha and all that. When Stiles thought of an alpha, Scott was the first thing coming to mind.

However, the werewolf standing there, in jeans and a wife beater, both items just a little too tight and hugging its muscled frame quite nicely, did not look like Scott. Not that Stiles minded, not at all.

When the feral betas came crashing through the woods, the alpha went into a low fighting stance, claws and fangs out, and Stiles couldn't help but notice what that move did to the shade's ass. C'mon, it was basically in his face.

Stiles hadn't given his shade any specifics but like every shade he'd ever summoned, its first priority was to keep Stiles safe. So when Ben came charging for him, the shade plucked him out of the air with a roar and smashed him to the ground.

Seeing her son lying under an alpha with claws pricking his throat, Anne roared and jumped on the shade.

There was a moment of struggle and Stiles hurried to crab-walk out of the danger zone but then the shade threw her into a tree. Anne landed on all fours, growling and snarling at the alpha coming for her, but then the alpha threw his head back and roared.

Stiles wasn't a werewolf but he had been living in a pack for years now and even he was affected by the demand for submission. But the alpha's focus was not on him.

Mother and son fought it for a moment, out of stubbornness alone, Stiles was sure, but then they lowered their heads in submission. When they looked up again, their faces were human and their eyes were not glowing any longer.

"What happened?" Anne asked. She stood up with a confused look around before her eyes settled on the shade standing in front of her.

"He won't answer." Stiles had picked himself up as well and with one flick of his wrist, the shade evaporated in shadows.

"Wow." The boy made and Stiles had to admit it looked cool. It looked even cooler when the shade looked like Batman for example. Not that he had summoned Batman to beat up some thugs for him. Maybe once. Or twice. And then there had been this one time …

Stiles shook his head to get his thoughts back on track.

"Yeah." Stiles gave him a hard look. "Heard you were dabbling in magic as well. Didn't turn out so well, did it?"

At least the boy had the decency to look guilty and when Stiles demanded to know exactly what he'd done, he told him. Ben probably knew that lying was pointless with his mother standing right next to him with a very disappointed expression on her face and for sure a close ear to his heart-beat.

Once he knew what he needed to know, Stiles hurried to send them out of dodge. He didn't know if they would get affected again and if so how long it would take to turn them feral again so he better got them out of here as quickly as possible.

"You sure you want to do this alone?" Anne asked. She had one arm over her son's shoulder who was crying by now.

"You can't stay here." Stiles made a shooing motion and was glad when she nodded and then turned to leave. They both were in dire need of a shower and a hot meal and maybe some therapy but they would live.

A hunter's solution to the problem would have been wolfsbane bullets. And a hunter might have killed the rest of the pack as well just on principle alone. There was a reason that when a pack had a problem that required a hunter they called Stiles instead.

Before they had left, Ben had pointed him in the direction of a remote cabin where he'd done the ritual.

It took Stiles half the night to untangle the magical mass, and he almost burned down the cabin by accident, but then the feeling of wrong vanished and Stiles could breathe easier.

Exhausted he crawled into the small bed, he didn't care who had been sleeping here before him, and he only woke when the sun was already high in the sky.

He still felt groggy and his muscles were stiff and sore, from the hiking and running from feral werewolves but also from the magical labor. The latter never looked like much from the outside but it was the part that always took a toll on him.

Stiles had a late breakfast consisting of granola bars and bottled water and while he was chewing, his mind started to wander.

Usually, when he summoned a shade, he put some thought into what he wanted it to look like and what kind of abilities he wanted it to have. The more complex a shade was, the harder it was to call it into existence and Stiles could only hold it for a short time.

However, he hadn't put any thought into the shade he'd summoned yesterday. Alpha werewolf was pretty self-explaining and somehow he had been convinced that it would just look like Scott. And c'mon, he'd known him since kindergarten, he didn't have to think about him to conjure up that crooked jaw.

The shade had not looked like Scott. Not at all.

Stiles was pretty sure that it hadn't looked like anybody he knew for which he was glad because that would have been weird.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip before he closed his eyes for a moment and reached into that shady place in his mind. Deaton had just looked pained when Stiles had called it that for the first time and after that it kind of stuck.

When he opened his eyes again, the shade was standing in the middle of the cabin.

Yesterday Stiles had mostly seen its back, mainly that ass in the tight jeans and those shoulder muscles working under smooth skin, but now it was facing him.

The chest muscles went along with the ones on its back, the wife beater highlighting them more than they were concealing anything. A sharp jawline under at least a week's worth of scruff, slim nose leading up to some impressive eyebrows. The eyes under those brows looked straight ahead, focused on nothing.

It wasn't blinking, or breathing for that matter, Stiles hadn't put that much effort into it, but everything else looked pretty real.

"Did you come out of the porn part of my brain?" Stiles circled his shade which just stood there, unmoving. "Because damn."

He studied its butt for a second longer before he dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.

Then Stiles hurried to pack his things, there was a pack waiting for the good news that the woods were safe again.