AN: Hey everyone! I know I have about thirty other stories going, but I've been on a Teen Wolf kick recently, and I just really love Peter and Werewolf!Stiles, so this was born. I hope you all like it and I hope to update my other stories soon. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Verena bolted up right, her eyes flashing as the monitors she was hooked up to went haywire. Nurses flooded the room as the girl finally realized where she was. She recognized the smell of antiseptic from her cousin Laura dragging her along during her volunteer days. But why was she in a hospital? More importantly, how was she still alive? Last she remembered, she'd been watching her father burn as he tried desperately to find a way to get her out of their home. She must have passed out from smoke inhalation, or maybe her father had knocked her unconscious. She was surprised the man hadn't ripped out her throat in an attempt to save her the pain of burning alive. He'd asked if she'd wanted him to, but that would have left him alone, as everyone else in the house was already dead, the two having gone around breaking necks and slashing throats to end the agony their packmates were in. Talia, her aunt and their Alpha, had been the first to die, having evacuated everyone to the basement before joining them, but then a beam fell, aiming for a few of the younger cubs, and she had pushed them out of the way, allowing the burning wood to crush her instead. She could remember actually begging one of the hunters outside to shoot her, to end her aunt's pain-filled screams. They hadn't. Her father had ended up running back to his sister and saying something to her quietly. Verena had seen her aunt nod, and the screams had been cut off. Her Alpha was gone. Then the fire had reached the basement, and her father had started grabbing the humans of the pack and snapping their necks. Verena had quickly realized what her father was doing and had joined him, grabbing the cubs and slashing their throats, telling them gently that it would be okay, even as tears streamed down her face. She could feel them stinging her eyes now, and immediately began choking on the tube in her throat when she tried to sob. The tube was removed and a soothing voice caught her attention.

"Verena? Can you hear me, sweetheart?" she looked into warm brown eyes and nodded, sure that her own were glassy with unshed tears. The woman smiled. She had a dark complexion and darker hair. She looked kind.

"Good. I need you to take a deep breath for me while I check your heartbeat, okay?"

Verena nodded, doing as she was told, taking a deep breath. Shooting the woman and apologetic look when she started coughing. Her mouth felt like cotton wool, and the taste of burning wood and wolfsbane was starting to make her sick. She smiled gratefully when the nurse handed her a glass of water, which she drank greedily. After three more glasses and a basic check-up – during which the nurse had introduced herself as Melissa McCall – Verena was sitting on her bed, staring at one the deputies for the Beacon County Sheriff's Department. The tag on his uniform read 'Stilinski'. She knew that name.

"A-are you Stiles' dad?" she asked curiously. He smiled at her.

"I am. Are you a friend of Stiles'?"

She shrugged.

"Kinda? He's one of the few people in our grade I can stand – besides Danny, my best friend who I have to share with Jackson Douchemore." She added with a slight pout, causing the Sheriff to laugh.

"Stiles doesn't like him either." He sighed, "Now, Verena, can you tell me what happened?"

Verena bit her lip.

"Depends on whether or not I might need a lawyer, sir." She admitted tiredly. He frowned.

"Why would you need a lawyer, Ms. Hale?"

She closed her eyes in pain.

"Because I'm a murderer." She whispered softly. The deputy's eyes widened in alarm.

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath.

"After… after Aunt Talia died, pushing some of my younger cousins out of the way of a falling support beam and the fire spread enough that we were all trapped in the basement, my dad and I began going around and killing the others before the fire or the smoke inhalation could get them. We wanted to make it quick. We started with the kids –" she choked on a sob, "– I killed my eight-month-old cousin by snapping his neck. They didn't fight us. A few even thanked us. A few of the stronger ones found an old gardening shovel and started tearing out each other's throats. I watched lovers and spouses kill each other. My dad broke my uncle's neck. Once all the others were gone, dad started losing it a little bit. He started looking for a way out, even though we both new there wasn't one. Then he asked if I wanted him to kill me too, but I couldn't let him die alone. So I told him no. If he had to live through that nightmare until the flames claimed him, so would I. I must have passed out at some point. I think dad was still trying to find a way to get me out." She finished, weeping openly now. She was surprised when she was pulled into a gentle embrace. She looked up at Deputy Stilinski in confusion, and he smiled sadly down at her.

"That was a mercy killing, sweetheart. Can you tell me why you all went to the basement?"

"We have escape tunnels, but they were blocked."

The Sheriff frowned.

"Do you know how anyone might have found out about them? Or how your house caught fire?"

She laughed bitterly. Memories of her cousin Derek coming home and smelling like wolfsbane and sex flashed through her mind.

"Oh, I know exactly what happened." She told him darkly, "And I know who killed my family."

Noah didn't know what to make of the Hale child. On one hand, he was glad to see that she no longer blamed herself for her family's deaths, on the other, he had never met such a blood thirsty child. Or one so loyal. All throughout her tale – her cousin beginning to act strange, coming home smelling like a weird plant, spending most of his time with a substitute teacher from the high school – she had never blamed her cousin for his part in their family's deaths or the burning of their home. She had placed the blame for that solely at the feet of one Kate Argent. And that girl wanted blood for it.

Verena was staring at Stiles' dad in disbelief – she said Stiles' dad, because that was who was standing in front of her, offering her a home until she turned eighteen or her father woke from his coma. He'd found Laura's contact information in a note she'd left for Verena and the two had come to an arrangement – if Verena wanted it. The elder Stilinski had made it very clear that, no matter what Laura said, this was completely Verena's choice. It wasn't really a choice. She had no place to go, and this man was kind. She agreed to stay with him.