His Abandoned Omega

by xCaellachx

Stiles Stilinski, omega, was promised to an alpha in an influential arranged mating. When his alpha never showed, his family and the town took it out on Stiles by abusing him. Derek comes home to see his sick father and instead finds Stiles, his fated mate. Can he save Stiles from the town? Werewolf AU, ww are known, Stiles OOC, angst to happy ending, MM

1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my new story! It's my first Teen Wolf fic and I'm excited about it. I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters. Please DO NOT repost my story on any other website whether it's Goodreads or Wattpad or any other site. Thank you for this consideration.

….

Derek Hale couldn't believe he was back in this hell hole. Driving down the main road of Beacon Hills was like a trip down memory lane that he had never wanted to make again. Sure, it was one of the most affluent, well-to-do packlands in the country, but to him it was hell. He had left ten years prior, after graduating high school and had vowed to never return.

His entire life was spent preparing for his future. First, it was getting into the right primary school, then boarding school, then prepping to get into the best shifter college in the country. Then, on his eighteenth birthday, still some five months before he was to graduate high school, he found out the rest of his parent's plan for his life. He would graduate from the college of their choice and then he would get married to the shifter of their choice. It felt like a betrayal to know that they had taken away his choice of mate. When he was only five years old, Talia and Alexander Hale had arranged for him to marry an omega, the name of whom would be kept from him until their mating ceremony was ready to be planned. The secret of the name was apparently a tradition, one his parents wouldn't, or maybe couldn't, explain. It was all bullshit. That was all he knew for sure.

Derek had hated going to the schools they wanted, socializing with the children of their friends, even studying what they pushed him into. All of his energy had been spent looking ahead. College. Once he went away to college he would be free. He could get a degree in architecture and design the buildings that had been drawing themselves in his mind since he was old enough to hold a pencil. He didn't care that his mother wanted him to go into law and then politics, as she had. He had no desire to spend his life that way. But he let his mother believe that he had no problem with the plan. Sure, he would be a lawyer then maybe he would run for mayor or maybe even a seat in the Shifter Senate.

The lockbox hidden under the floorboards in his room had kept his college acceptance and admittance letters safe. The one thing he was thankful for was his mother's pressure to do well in school. Thanks to that, he had gotten accepted to the best architectural schools in the country, shifter and non. He wasn't a shifter snob as his family and community were. He didn't care if he went to school with non-shifters, what did it matter? As long as the school was good, he was open to it.

Derek had finally settled on Cornell and decided he would live in New York for the rest of his life, it felt more like home than Beacon Freaking Hills ever had.

He wasn't in line for pack Alpha, so there was no reason to go back to Beacon Hills, home of the Battle Born Clan of California. Battle Born. He scoffed. They weren't deserving of that name anymore. Maybe Silver Spoon in Prissy Mouth Clan. The shifters in his home town were more concentrated on accumulation of wealth than the proud history of their pack.

If it weren't for his father being severely ill, he wouldn't be there now. As it was, he knew it was going to be hell. Once Derek saw whether his father was okay – if he was even ill at all – he knew he would be hearing about the arranged mating. He was supposed to have returned home when his arranged mate turned eighteen and claim them. Hell, he didn't know if the shifter was male or female. Shifters didn't care about gender for the most part. Derek had always been attracted more toward males, so he had a feeling his omega would be female just to torture him even more. Regardless, he would hear about it. His arranged mate had turned of age five years prior. The entire year leading up to the day, his parents had started hounding him, calling every week, then every other day, asking when he would be back. They left message after message telling him about the plans they had made for the claiming ceremony. He didn't return a single one.

Part of him felt bad for the omega. It wasn't his or her fault Derek didn't want his life mate chosen for him. Hell, he didn't know if he even wanted a life mate. But this person was just as trapped as he was. He had probably done the poor thing a favor.

With a deep sigh, he pulled into the underground parking lot of the best hotel in town, the Moonrise. This town could at least pick better names for their businesses. Hopefully, he could check in quietly and spend a peaceful evening before being faced with his parents the next day.

Getting out of his truck, he stretched his six foot four inch frame before opening the back door. Grabbing his backpack, he locked up went inside to talk to the clerk and check in. Luck was on his side because the clerk didn't know him and he was able to get his key and quickly made his way to the elevator. That was when his luck ran out.

"Derek Hale, where the hell have you been?"

He froze, Talia Hale's disdainful voice filling him with anger and dread. So much for a quiet evening.

. . . . .

"Can I get one sex on the beach, a shot of Cuervo, and one jack and coke please," Stiles Stilinski asked the bartender, Danny, loudly. It was part of the job description to speak as loudly as possible so the bartender could hear you. Otherwise, you didn't get any drinks. He suddenly jerked forward, his ribcage connecting with the bar as an elbow rammed into his back.

"Move it, loser," a nasty voice growled at him.

Without saying a word, Stiles simply moved further down the bar. He saw Danny's mouth thin as he watched what happened, but he didn't say anything. After realizing this was a part of Stiles' life and Stiles repeated pleas to just leave it alone, Danny had stopped trying to help. Danny was the closest thing to a friend he had in this town since Scott McCall gave up on him. Scott, an alpha, had been his closest friend since birth. But after he found his mate, Allison, in high school, he stopped hanging around Stiles as much. It hurt.

Everyone in Beacon Hills treated Stiles like shit and for the most part he was used to it. He tried to be tough when he was in public, being as nonchalant about the verbal and physical abuse as he could. Having his intended mate completely abandon him without a word made him easy fodder for the town's amusement. The arrangement was between his family and another important family in town. He never found out who, that wasn't how these arrangements worked. So now, because somehow he had chased off his alpha, his family was humiliated. They had to do something to cover up the public embarrassment of preparing an entire claiming ceremony and then Stiles being left standing there like a fool. There was nothing they could do, so his family turned on him and blamed him for everything, disowning him in the process. Somehow, this gave the people of the town permission to turn his life into a living hell in every way. His family didn't care, he no longer mattered to them. They didn't acknowledge him or the abuse. More than once he had seen his father, the Sheriff, drive by while he was being pushed around by a group of betas. The car just kept driving. Stiles simply didn't exist. It was a painful state of being.

Around that time, Scott told him they couldn't hang out anymore. He didn't want his mate being hurt by association from being near Stiles when he got beat up. That one stung for a long time. He got a smile and a small wave from his old friend now, but that was it. Anything more might be considered too friendly.

The people of Beacon Hills had their opinions on why his alpha had never shown up to claim him. His physical appearance was the most popular. He was ugly. He wasn't the typical omega beauty, petite, with a soft build, light hair and blue or green eyes. The small frame was a complement to the larger, taller alphas. Male and female omegas alike tended to have these traits. Not him. He had to be born tall and gangly, five foot ten with a wiry frame. His skin was marked with moles instead of a flawless expanse of porcelain. He had the right skin tone, being pale, but the moles and his lean muscles made him different. His brown hair was a spiky mass and his eyes, instead of pale, were a golden brown. He resembled a distant uncle who had been known as the ugly old guy who died alone. It was a rich heritage.

Other than his appearance, people said Stiles was stupid – not acknowledging his perfect 4.0 GPA from high school and the tech school he'd put himself through. He was also worthless, impotent, and a geek, thanks to his computer programming side business. That particular insult didn't bother him. He was a geek, well, part time at least. Then someone had broken into his house and found his artwork and gave the town more ammunition against him. He hadn't wanted to get into computers, he was an artist at heart. His dream would be spending the day painting or drawing. Being from one of the richer families in town, with his dad being Sheriff, his parents could have easily sent him to art school or helped him set up a studio. Instead, after a year had passed and no word from his arranged mate, they had disowned him, completely cutting him off. Stiles had always had a knack for computers, so he put himself through tech school and started a small programming company. He telecommuted from home which suited him just fine. The less he had to be in public the better for his perpetually bruised body.

Not a week passed by that he didn't have to stop by the hospital for any number of injuries. He'd been beaten up by most of the men in town his age, either singly or in groups. Shoved, pushed, pulled, punched; hell, twice he had been hit by cars. The cars had female drivers, he supposed it was easier to run him over than break a nail hitting him. The police had written it off saying he hadn't been watching where he was going. He had perfected the use of women's concealer so he could keep his night job at the Moonrise bar located in the basement of the hotel. People tended to not want to buy drinks from a guy whose face was black and blue.

Tonight he was dealing with bruised ribs from a pounding he had taken from Jackson Whittemore and his cronies the night before. His face wasn't swollen anymore, but there were bruises around his eye and along his cheekbone from a small fracture still healing. Now, from the elbow in the back he had just received, he knew he'd have another deep bruise to deal with. Thank the gods he had invested in ice packs and arnica long time ago.

The bruises, broken bones, all of it, Stiles could handle. As a shifter, he healed faster than humans, though, as an omega, he still needed a couple of days to heal broken bones. If he had a week, he could finally be at full health again. Unfortunately, the men in town didn't believe in giving him that time. They felt he should be reminded daily that he was nothing and that he would never be worth anything to anyone. The women even showed their disdain through ignoring his very existence.

What Stiles couldn't handle and fought against every day, was the emotional pain. The feelings of abandonment, worthlessness, loneliness, and sadness. So much sadness. Why didn't his alpha come for him? Did the alpha find out who Stiles was and find him lacking? Was he as ugly as everyone said? Growing up, he had received compliments on his unusual looks, girls and guys alike showed envy that he had dark hair and golden eyes. But now? Now he was hideous and that must be why his intended mate never came for him. Was it because he wasn't successful? He got by. He could afford rent, utilities, computers and basic art supplies. So what if he didn't dress in designer clothes? That couldn't possibly be what made him worthless, could it?

Nobody thought to blame the missing alpha. Alphas were always right. Stiles didn't even question it.

Stiles could calmly treat his wounds, wrap and rewrap his ribs, set his fingers when they were dislocated, and take himself to the hospital when his stab wounds bled too much or his stiches were repeatedly ripped out. All of that was fine. It sucked, but it was his life. But the emotional part was beyond him. He cried himself to sleep most nights, the deep longing in his soul eating him alive. The longing for his alpha, for his friends, for a kind word and a friendly touch. He missed laying in piles with his friends watching movies and talking. It had been years since someone had touched him without the intention of hurting him. At night, his wolf would howl weakly in anguish, curl up in his mind, and just lay there, tail tucked under, uninterested in anything. He had stopped shifting. His wolf didn't care to come out. He was waiting for their mate. Too bad his mate would never come.

Danny served up his drinks with a supportive smile and Stiles nodded his thanks. He turned and easily stepped over the foot that stuck out to trip him. As he avoided it, though, another conveniently placed elbow struck, this time right into his broken rib. Taking a deep breath, gasping for control over the pain, he gritted his teeth and moved on. It was a typical night.

. . . . .

Derek's father wasn't sick, just as he had thought. Nope, it was all a ruse to get him home and guilt trip him about his arranged mating. Well, that was too bad, as he told them yet again, he had no intention of carrying through with an agreement they had made for him before he was old enough to make his own decisions. After a solid ten minutes of curses and threats, her eyes flashing red, his mother relented and said if he was going to do this, he would have to go to the omega and his family and tell them he was breaking off the arrangement. He had immediately agreed to the chagrin of his mother. Talia had obviously hoped that forcing him to face this other family would shame him into going through with it. Far from it. He was actually grateful for the chance to end this once and for all. By this time tomorrow, he would be free of this forced obligation and he and the omega would be free to go their own ways. Talia had begged and pleaded with him after the threats didn't succeed, asking him to change his mind saying he didn't know what he was doing; that they had reasons for why they chose this specific omega. Derek didn't buy it. Talia had finally huffed at him, told him she would see him tomorrow and stalked away from him.

Now that it was taken care of, he was going down to the hotel bar, have a few stiff drinks and then head to bed. He had driven all day and was exhausted. He actually looked forward to tomorrow and the fatigue mixed with alcohol would help him sleep.

All of his plans changed when he crossed the threshold into the bar. The most delicious scent filled the air. Delicious, ripe, beautiful omega. His wolf perked up, standing inside him, tail wagging and head shifting back and forth, trying to find the wolf with that inviting smell. They had to find whoever it was. That omega was theirs. Where was it coming from? He slowly made his way to the bar so he could have a clear view of the room, the thought of having a drink no longer in his plans. He didn't plan on staying. Once he found his omega, they would be leaving. Together.

"Hey, Danny, I'm off for the night. I'll see you in a couple days," a melodic voice called from the other end of the bar.

Derek's head jerked in the direction of the voice and knew it belonged to his omega. A beautiful young man stood across from him, taking off a small black apron from around his trim waist. He was perfect, Derek thought, as he and his wolf hungrily took in every detail. He was tall for an omega, lithe and lightly muscled. His wolf panted and he barely held in a groan at the thought of holding that trim figure against a wall as they fucked into him. His hair was a beautiful mahogany brown, unique for an omega. Thanks to his alpha sight, he could even see his eyes, the color of whiskey, sparkling in the light. This omega was different and absolutely perfect for him.

"Sounds good, Stiles. Do you want me to walk you out?" the bartender asked, taking the apron.

Stiles? A unique name for a unique omega. He wondered if it was a nickname or if it was his real name.

"Same answer as every night," the gorgeous creature said with a wry grin. No emotion touched those hazel eyes, though, and Derek felt a tightening in his stomach. Something wasn't right.

The young wolf walked around the bar towards Derek and his body knew his omega was coming closer, his cock hardening, his wolf ready to pounce. Come to us, little wolf.

Before Stiles reached him, a man casually swung out an arm and his foot, and the omega was unable to avoid them in time. Derek growled deeply as he watched Stiles take a hard punch to the ribcage and then trip, falling to his knees. The omega wrapped his arm around himself, his jaw tight, eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, he knelt for a moment. Derek was already on his way, seeing the man reaching out, intending to hurt his omega again.

The man never got a chance because Derek grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it with an easy move. The man cried out, but Derek couldn't care less. If his omega wasn't kneeling there, hurt, he would have shifted and snapped the man's neck instead.

"Stiles?" he said softly, not wanting to startle the injured wolf.

The young man looked up, his gorgeous eyes dead. "Please don't," he whispered, pain tightening his plush mouth.

"Don't worry, little wolf, I won't hurt you," Derek assured him in a husky voice and eased the omega up, wrapping his arm firmly around his thin waist. He gave one last red-eyed glare to the moaning wolf who'd hurt Stiles. "If I see you near him again, I will rip your throat out," he promised with a threatening growl.

He helped the hurt man walk slowly from the bar until they were in the hallway that led to the lobby of the hotel.

"You shouldn't have done that," Stiles said, leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. That last hit to his ribs was more than he could take. He was sure he would be going to the hospital this time.

Derek was smoothing Stiles' hair back, unable to stop touching him. "Why is that?"

"Don't you know? I'm the town punching bag. You get seen helping me, you'll be next. Or I'll get it twice as bad next time," Stiles informed him, with a slight gasp. He was in so much pain he could barely concentrate, but there was something about this wolf, this alpha. He was gorgeous, of that there was no doubt. But there was something more about him. His scent, his heat, everything about him made Stiles want to snuggle into him. The alpha was tall, probably half a foot taller than him. He had jet black hair that was slightly shaggy like he was growing it out. His eyes were a piercing light green. He was everything an alpha should be. And he was touching Stiles and it felt like heaven.

The man gave a chuckle. "Little wolf, none of these fools scare me. And if they come after you, you will tell me. Understood?"

Stiles gave a grimace of a smile. "Sure thing, attack wolf. Sounds good. Now, if you'll pardon me, I need to get going. Important date and all."

Derek and his wolf growled, his canines growing and baring themselves at Stiles. "A date? With who? Where is this wolf who isn't here to protect you?" he demanded, fury pounding through him. His omega didn't already have a mate, did he?

Stiles held up a hand. "Relax! I was being sarcastic. I was referring to a date with the hospital. I'm pretty sure another rib is broken. I need a new wrap to keep me all put together. I'm worse than Humpty Dumpty at this point," Stiles tried to joke weakly. Why did he want to crawl into this man's arms and disappear inside him?

Relief shot through him knowing there was no other wolf who could claim his omega. "I have first aid training," Derek said, an idea coming to him. It was intensely personal and considered taboo nowadays, but he would do anything for Stiles. "Come up to my room and I'll take a look at it." He saw the hesitant and suspicious look on the wolf's face. "Just think, no four hour visit, quick relief and back home to sleep it off," he said, giving Stiles his warmest smile.

Stiles knew better, of course he did. Stranger danger and all that. But spending another few minutes with… wait. "I don't even know your name and you want me to come up to your room?"

"You're right," he grinned. "My name is Derek and you are Stiles. Now we know each other. Will you let me help you?"

Stiles stared at him for a moment. Derek and his wolf were perked up, waiting, desperate for him to say yes. Then he smiles as a sweet pink stained his omega's pale cheeks.

"Okay, but just long enough to wrap my ribs," Stiles insisted. He was unused to having such positive attention aimed at him. He liked it. He knew he couldn't get used to it, though, but he would enjoy it while it lasted. Something in him was starving for kind words and this man seemed determined to give them to him.

"Sounds good. Come on, little wolf," Derek placed his hand on the small of Stiles' back and led him to the elevator. "Going up?" he teased, pleased when he got a soft chuckle in return. Stiles fit perfectly next to him and Derek wanted to keep him there forever, never to be harmed again. He would have to see what he could do to help Stiles before he returned to New York. But first he would heal him, then take him. He had to have a taste. The scent coming off this wolf, sunshine and fresh air, was addicting and he needed to find where the source of the scent was. His wolf grinned. They both had a pretty good idea where to start the search. He had a feeling once wouldn't be enough with this wolf.

Derek eased the omega into the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor.

"So, Stiles the waiter, I have a feeling you aren't a professional waiter. Is there anything else you do or are you in school or anything?" Derek asked, wanting to hear the sweet sound of his voice again.

"Actually, yeah, I uh, love to paint. I always have. I'm not making any money from it yet, but I hope to someday. In the meantime, I put myself through school and got a degree in computer programming. I have a small business doing that for various websites," Stiles said, a tinge of pride in his tone.

Derek cocked his head to the side. He could see the young beauty being artistic, covered in smears of paint. Transferring the ordinary to the extraordinary on a canvas. Wait. Put himself through school? Human parents often refused to pay for their children's schooling, causing them to work long hours and become deep in debt. It was the pride of a shifter family to put their pups through school so they could do their best and succeed in whatever they set their mind to. Why had Stiles' parents not supported him?

"That is quite an accomplishment. May I ask why your family did not pay for your schooling? Please tell me if I am stepping over the line," Derek assured him.

"I don't have a family," Stiles said quietly, sorrow and anger dripping from his words.

The elevator opened and Derek guided Stiles down to his room, unable to think of what to say. The little wolf was an orphan? If so, why did he sound so angry? He unlocked the door and they went inside. Stiles immediately went to sit down, but when his back was about to touch the chair, he hissed and slowly stood back up, both arms supporting his ribs.

"Take your shirt off," Derek demanded, a growl building up in his throat. Why was Stiles' back hurting him?

Stiles assessed the angry alpha in front of him. Was he angry at Stiles? He didn't feel an immediate threat. Should he risk taking off his shirt, making him that much more vulnerable?

Derek could smell the uncertainty tinged with fear coming from the smaller wolf. Shit, he hadn't meant to scare the poor thing. "I'm not going to hurt you, little one, I'm just upset that you are hurt. Do you need some help with the shirt?" he offered.

Stiles thought about it for another moment. Then he gave him a weak smile. "Nah, I got it. Believe it or not, I'm used to this."

Used to being picked on and tripped? Derek couldn't understand what would cause people to want to hurt this sweet, innocent wolf. He watched as Stiles unbuttoned his white shirt, unveiling a white tank top underneath. His wolf panted and he almost started to as well, seeing the fine white skin being slowly revealed. His pants grew tight against his cock again at the thought of running his hands all over that flesh.

Before his lust could get the better of him, Stiles pulled the tank top up and off, gasping in pain as he did so. In that moment, Derek's vision went red and he began growling loudly. Somebody was going to pay.

His sweet omega. What the hell had happened to him? Stiles' chest was a menagerie of colors from near black to purple, red, splotches of green and fading yellow. The area of his ribs where he'd been hit was grossly swollen, the bone obviously completely broken. He had swelling, bruises, and scrapes all over his torso, arms, wrists, and around his neck where the shirt had covered them up.

Derek felt his canines descend and his face grow hairy as his wolf started to take over. They would hunt down those who harmed his omega and kill them. Rip into their throats and fling them around like chew toys before tearing the flesh from their throats and leaving them for dead.

"Derek? Derek, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Stiles was used to seeing betas and alphas shifting form slightly before beating him up, but this was different. His rusty instincts told him Derek didn't want to hurt him. He risked touching the alpha's hand, trying to bring out of his anger.

That soft, warm voice broke through the red haze in Derek's mind. Then a warm hand touched his, the touch feeling like heaven. Such a tiny gesture and it eased his anger enough to calm down, the wolf's hair receding until all the remained were his canines. He was still too upset to give up the protection they provided.

"Turn around," Derek rumbled, his wolf still prowling around inside him, waiting for the opportunity to lunge.

"It's not a pretty sight," Stiles warned and turned around. Why was Derek so upset? Stiles had told him he was the town punching bag. Hadn't he believed him?

Derek gasped at the sight of the omega's back and let loose a flurry of curses. There was literally not an inch on him that didn't have some form of bruise whether fresh or nearly healed. The truly worrying part was the swelling over his kidneys. He didn't care if Stiles balked or tried to refuse. He was going to heal him. Taboo or not.

Stiles turned back around, seeing Derek pull his own shirt off. He couldn't hold back the small whimper that escaped him at the glory that stood before him. Derek was pure Alpha, the naturally darker toned skin, muscles on top of his muscles, his eight pack standing out, just asking to be touched and perhaps even licked. Stiles was a virgin, he had promised himself to his mate, whether he ever showed up or not. He would not be unfaithful. But he did long for contact, especially now. Those beautiful muscles, the deep line next to his hip bones that led down into his form fitting jeans. Stiles' wolf was suddenly wide awake and circling around, wanting to present himself for the alpha's approval and attention. His cock, typically ignored, came to life, hardening and demanding attention. Any attention.

Stiles ached for touch after being avoided for the last four years. Wolves were naturally tactile creatures. They scented one another, snuggled with each other, slept in groups just for the comfort of it. When the town decided he was unworthy, he had lost Scott and every other friend – mostly due to their parents forcing them – and he hadn't had anyone to share touch with all this time. He longed to just wrap his arms around Derek and let their skin touch. It didn't have to be sexual; the simple warmth of their shared touch would feel amazing, he just knew it.

"You are beautiful," Stiles whispered before he could stop himself. Damn it, Stiles, he cursed himself. Alphas aren't beautiful, they are rugged, strong, and handsome. Derek covered all of those and hopefully wouldn't take offense.

Derek smiled. "Thank you, little wolf. You are quite striking yourself. Your skin is exquisite," he said softly. He knew when he'd healed Stiles, he would be even lovelier.

"Yeah, all these bruises make for a colorful rainbow," Stiles joked weakly. He couldn't let Derek's words in. It would just hurt later when he was alone again.

"Stiles, how the hell did this happen to you?" Derek got back on track. He had to hunt down the fuckers who'd hurt his omega. Yes, he was aware he'd been referring to the little wolf as his and as the seconds and minutes passed, he was more and more sure that he wanted this wolf for his mate. Not for a quick fuck. More like, forever.

"I told you, I'm the town punching bag. Remember I told you I have no family?"

Derek nodded, confused.

"Well I have family, but they disowned me four years ago. The town then decided I deserved to be shunned, mocked, and beaten up at every opportunity. This," he waved his hands around his torso, "is normal. I'm on a first name basis with the hospital staff. You know omegas heal slower than alphas and so the alphas make sure I don't have time to heal. I get hit every day in some way. Spit on, smacked, hell I was hit by a car twice from the women in town. All because I am unworthy," he mumbled the last words, looking down in shame.

Derek's mind was reeling. What the hell was wrong with this town? Why had they done this to such a sweet and gentle creature? Wait. Unworthy? "Why do you say you are unworthy, little wolf?" He came closer and gently touching the unbruised portion of his jaw.

"My mate refused me. It was to be a rather important connection between families, but my mate abandoned me. I tried, Derek," he said somewhat desperately. He finally had a chance to have someone listen to him. He didn't bother fighting the frustrated tears that escaped his burning eyes. "I did everything right. I took the omega classes, I know how to be a good mate. I even know the magics to bring forth pups. I did it all right, I swear. But my alpha didn't want me. I tried," he repeated, a small sob escaping, making his ribs ache with the movement. He moaned, purely miserable at that moment. Please touch me, he and his wolf begged. Please.

Derek got his silent plea and didn't hesitate, he gently wrapped his long arms around Stiles lithe, shuddering body and pulled him close. Stiles gasped when their chests made contact and moaned, his scent going warm with gratitude and need. It wasn't sexual need, Derek understood, it was the simple need for touch from another wolf. Derek would give him everything he needed. And when he was calm and healed, he would find out the name of his mate and kill him. Then he would claim Stiles and take him back to New York with him. With that plan in mind, he turned all of his attention to his mate. His mate. He liked the sound of that. It was too bad he had to wait before he could call him that out loud.

"I know you tried, Stiles. You are a worthy and good wolf. I can sense it in you. Your mate abandoning you was his or her problem, not yours. It was not your failing, little one, please hear me on this. As for Beacon Hills, they are all fucked up in the head. They all want status and if someone or something doesn't contribute to that, they lash out. That's why I left. As soon as I graduated high school, I was out of here and I haven't been back until today. Stiles, why didn't you leave? You could have started over anywhere." Derek softly stroked his back and sides, enjoying the feel of the smaller wolf in his arms. Stiles' head rested easily against his shoulder, nearly tucked under his chin. His slender form melted against his own hard frame like it was meant to be there. It made Derek and his wolf feel stronger, more virile and protective. He was made to care for and protect Stiles. That was why he was born.

Like a veil lifting inside him, he knew. Stiles was his fated mate. It was practically unheard of nowadays, because people just settled for someone they were attracted to. But there were stories of people finding those they were meant to be with, those they were made for. Their other half. He pulled Stiles just a bit tighter to him, savoring the moment, fighting back the very un-alpha-like tears that burned in his eyes. His very own fated mate.

Why hadn't he left Beacon Hills? "I was waiting for my alpha," Stiles admitted quietly.

"You are such an honorable wolf, Stiles. I know we just met, but I am so proud of you. Not many wolves would wait after being abandoned. You are good and true. Any alpha would be lucky to have you," Derek said and gave him a little squeeze and breathed in the summer scent in his hair. The whimper of pain made him pull back. "I'm sorry, little one. Let's get you feeling better, shall we?"

Stiles nodded. "Do you have a bandage to wrap my ribs? It's hurting pretty bad."

"I have something better. A way to heal you with the speed of an alpha," Derek said. He knew Stiles would probably balk, but it would heal him in minutes instead of days. His wolf bared his teeth. It would also mean they would be beginning the ancient ways of bonding.

Stiles leaned back and looked up at him, confused. "How?"

"I am going to blood share with you. My alpha blood will heal you quickly," Derek announced.

Stiles whiskey eyes went almost comically wide. "Blood sharing? You can't be serious."

"I am very serious. I know it's unusual, but I assure you it will work," Derek said, brushing the silky brown hair back from his forehead.

"You would do that for me?" Stiles was shocked. He'd heard of blood sharing, all wolves knew of it. It was less common now that there was medicine and treatment. Wolves tended to view it as barbaric and unnecessary these days. But Derek was right, if he was willing to blood share, it would heal him. Suddenly his mouth was watering and his canine were descending, something that hadn't happened in years. His wolf stood up inside him, curious at what was going on, definitely interested in the prospect of blood sharing.

Derek groaned, his cock filling so quickly it almost made him dizzy. Seeing the small canines appear in Stiles' gorgeous mouth, to feel his wolf come close to the surface, was heady. He wanted to shift with him, to scent and nuzzle his wolf mate. Then he wanted to chase him through the forest, running through the trees, hunting him down before claiming him.

"Come here, little wolf, and take from me. Let me heal you. Say yes," Derek demanded, his voice gravelly and deep. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it, needed it. He needed to feed his little mate his blood, heal him and mark him as his own. He growled lowly. "Say yes."

Stiles was still a little lost in the world of 'holy shit' and 'what the fuck', but couldn't even consider denying Derek. Or himself. "Yes."