CHAPTER 1
The air was thick with the cloying heat of a true California summer. It was nearing the end of August, and the sun was apparently desperate to keep doing it's thing. In the formal sitting room with her father, Allison Argent felt sweat collect in places she didn't want to think about.
She thought about her dead grandfather, so viciously manipulative. Her dead aunt, lost to insanity and delusions. Her dead mother, who had chosen to leave her. It felt like the little she had left was slipping from her fingers. They sat in silence, father and daughter, together sharing an insurmountable loss.
She briefly thought about how easy it would have been to say that they had been robbed by the wild things that ran free and monstrous in the night. How it could have been the simplest thing in the world to walk away with a grudge and let the coming storm deliver their revenge upon the beasts.
But she knew that it would be impossible. The remnants of the family Argent was past the point of indifference, and past the point of lying. Especially to themselves. They were going to stay and redeem their name, even if they weren't the ones who tarnished it. Because a school formal and a kanima were the least of their worries now.
Something greater than they had ever faced was coming, and Allison was still struggling to tell up from down. They were at their most vulnerable, and they had only the wolves of Beacon Hills to turn to. If Derek Hale's deeply unsettling phone call was to be taken as truth, then it looked like they were going to be thrown into the fight of their lives. And fight they would. Even if it meant dying with their allies.
Chris reached for his daughter's hand and she shrank away. He sighed heavily, and set it down instead on the space between them. If she hadn't seen him after her mother's death, Allison would say he'd never looked quite so shattered.
"I've haven't ever even heard of an alpha pack," he whispered. They locked eyes, and he continued wearily, "If we don't know anything about them then we're as good as defenseless. But I have a friend. Someone I think might be able to help. They know how to find, capture, and kill things we don't even know about"
"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger leurs-même" she snapped, impatient and wilting from the heat. She glared at him "We're not associating with killers again. They'll ride in on their high horses and they'll make everything worse. We can solve all of this by working with Derek's pack"
"We need help, so I'm calling them. You'll understand when you meet them. They've dealt with everything from-" she clicked her tongue and he froze "You forget your rank. You will not call them, that's an order"
His eyes widened, "Allison Argent I am your father-"
"And I am the matriarch of this family. I don't give a shit about what they've dealt with. In fact, it loses them stability cred. It loses them judgement cred. The very last thing we need is loose cannon die hard veterans coming in guns blazing and ruining everything. My word is final. You will not contact them."
Chris scowled, and stormed out. Allison grit her teeth, furious. She might as well freshen up the linens in the guest room.
Five hundred miles away, a black 67 Chevy Impala roared its way down a dusty country road. Through the open windows poured classic rock. Dean Winchester felt a small flutter of panic as his phone began to ring. Because it wasn't his main phone. Or his "other" phone. His "other other" phone was ringing. The one only a few very select individuals had the number to.
It buzzed and jingled softly in the pocket over his heart, and for a moment he forgot where he was. Remembered years of desperately hoping for it to ring. Nights of fervent prayer that he would get to hear even a second of that voice.
The owner of the voice patted his shoulder, and brought him back to attention "Dean, aren't you going to get that?" He chuckled, and turned the music down to answer it. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw a name that brought him back to his early days.
His free hand tightened on the wheel as he remembered a militant family with vicious young women and manipulative old men. People who breathed fiery lies, and preached sanctimonious anti-everythingism. Two back to back teenage summers of some of the most psychotically intense training he'd ever been through. Such physical strain that he'd been practically shitting muscles for a few years there. A flight to Japan to bail out his friend who had almost died because of his father's sense of humor. A nausea-inducing field trip watching the old man bisect ten omega werewolves with a broadsword. A fucking broadsword.
But Chris was his friend. Chris had a code. And his sanity. So he answered the phone.
"Argent, how's things? I heard it's been gettin kinda crazy down in your neck of the woods." Sam shot him a questioning look and Dean shook his head briefly, holding up a finger. A second later his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped, his finger fell and he swerved, almost dropping the phone.
Dean paled and turned the stereo off altogether, slowing the car and pulling over to the side of the road. He immediately regretted answering the call. "Argent, tell me you're joking" A little voice sang in his head to hang up. He should just hang up and forget what he heard.
He let out ragged panicky breaths "Well a few hunters isn't exactly gonna cover it, man. You walk into that, you're gonna need to take an army in there with you. We can be there in a few hours. We're gonna loop around and get Bobby. Yeah, I'll see you soon. Get somewhere safe." and he hung up.
Sam and Castiel bombarded him with questions "We're going to go help my good friend Chris break up some serious cujo mojo going down in California," he cracked his neck, "Sam, how much do you know about the Argents?"
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Derek, having an excellent view of the entryway from his place on the sofa, was mildly astonished to see Chris Argent blush sheepishly as he ushered hunters into his home, avoiding eye contact with his daughter. He snorted, and tucked the mental image away to be remembered at a later date.
Allison, next to him, bit her cheek and tried to smile as they came in and sat on the sofa across the from her. The three men filled the couch, leaving no room for her father. He floundered, before sitting next to his daughter. With a healthy space between them. He cleared his throat "This is Dean Winchester, his brother Sam, and Bobby Singer, all veteran hunters. And this is their uh, their friend?"
The man in the trench coat fidgeted "Castiel," he said, seemingly torn between going for a hug or a handshake. He settled on an awkward arm pat. Chris blinked owlishly, "Uh, okay. Thanks. Anyways, men, this is my daughter Allison, the last Argent matriarch. And this is Derek Hale, the alpha of Beacon Hills"
The tension in the room snapped taut like a piano wire, Dean's hand slipped into his pocket, and Sam's twitched where it rested on his leg. Bright red shone at Chris' periphery and he winced. Quick to smooth down feathers he gushed out an explanation "He's a born wolf and he's in complete control of himself and his pack. But most importantly, he's our ally"
Derek exhaled lightly "Thank you Chris, but I'd prefer to introduce myself" he locked eyes with Dean "My family has held claim on this territory for over ten generations. Every single child born into it, every bride or husband married into it, has been a pack member. Whether human or wolf. And for over two hundred years we thrived in these hills. But that's changed. My family is crippled and near extinction. "
He clenched his jaw and looked away " Something is coming now that has the power to obliterate everything in its path. With the alpha pack descending upon us, there are no lines of hunter or wolf. There is no us versus you. There is only unity, or slaughter."
The Winchesters narrowed their eyes almost in unison, but said nothing. Chris, looking a little ruffled, jumped at the silence as a chance to fill his friends in on the activity that had happened in the area since the Hale fire. What might possibly have been recounted as a gruesome war epic had come out shamefully more like a season recap of a teen drama.
The part of the story featuring the high school winter formal had been especially embarrassing to get through. To their credit though the hunters appeared to be taking the entire saga in with a great deal of seriousness.
Derek quietly supplied details here and there that Chris had left out, and Allison often interrupted her father to chastise him for making teen issues seem unimportant. The briefing turned out to be, surprisingly enough, relatively brief.
When the tale was told, awkward silence settled in. Sam and Dean emoted at each other nonverbally, and Castiel nibbled on a honeycomb that Chris didn't want to know where he got. It was weird. But he wasn't going to question it.
Bobby rubbed his scruffy beard, and broke the ice, "So uh, Derek…I've gotta say I've never encountered anything like this. And understand, I've spent decades thoroughly studying the supernatural. I know werewolves and pack dynamics, and this here don't make no sense"
Derek nodded his head, "You're right. All logic says they shouldn't exist, but they do. They are the avenging angels of our species. For several millennia, three alpha packs roamed Europe, Asia minor, and Africa. Ancient and strong, they were a vicious and merciless ruling class. Though they didn't kill for sport, there was no force alive that could stop them when they were on the hunt. Many smaller packs worshiped them as gods, and all feared them."
His eyes squeezed shut for the smallest of moments, and when he opened them again they sparkled. looked away for a moment and coughed lightly
"I remember reading one of our library books as a child. It was a tome passed down through Hale hands since before my ancestors came to this continent, and it was the only known volumes documenting the alpha packs. But of course, the book is long gone. Ashes scattered. All I know of them is what I can dredge from my youngest memories."
"History says the original packs were lost to time. Even werewolves don't live forever. There have been others since, but infrequently, and none so legendary. In fact, a true alpha pack hasn't been seen in decades - and that's on a global level. The last one was reportedly seen in Bulgaria in the 50s. They had been fighting one of the elite sects of the Huntsmen, and fell off the map. That's all I really know - I don't know why they're coming, but whatever their intentions are, they're here now and they are unbelievably dangerous"
The hunters all seemed pleased that he had been so forthcoming, and after a moment Sam answered him slowly "So correct me if I'm wrong here, but a pack grows in strength with the amount of wolves that are in it right?"
nod
"And usually the bulk of this power goes to the alpha, the leader of the pack, while residual energy is fed to the betas individually?"
nod
"And one of the major pack dynamics is the fact that there is only one person in control - the alpha and possibly his second in command?"
nod
"And packs are formed by beta wolves physically and emotionally submitting to this alpha wolf?"
nod
Sam hmphed "So then how does the alpha pack stay together? By it's very nature an alpha does not submit, an alpha is in charge and in control. If there were multiple alphas, wouldn't one submitting to another mean that they automatically became a beta?"
Derek grinned and shook his head, it'd been years since he'd debated wolf theory with his sisters, as they liked to call it, and remembering things from his childhood made him feel young again "That's where you're wrong. The alpha packs aren't true packs, they could be better described as hunting parties. Werewolves can form close personal and mental bonds with each other without being part of an established pack. An alpha on its own is not an omega. They stick together not because they have to, but because they know that they make an indomitable force. Without the focus of a single alpha, their power flows through the bond they share like a feedback loop, magnifying what they already have to astronomical levels"
Sam looked startled, and Dean spoke up for the first time "So seeing as we know you're life story now, I'm pretty sure it's safe to say we're fully in on this cujo mojo shitstorm now. But I gotta ask, there's no way to take 'em out without a fight?" Derek pressed his claws very lightly against the upholstery, toyingly, thinking.
"We don't know their intentions yet, but they have the ability to effortlessly take this town off of the map. I haven't met or spoken with them yet, but their first move could easily be to attack. Then again, as an ancient pack they might conduct themselves with diplomacy. If we're lucky. And that's a very big if. Because if they don't, if we say the wrong thing or push the wrong button, then everything breathing within a twenty mile radius is a good as dead"
Bobby scrubbed at his beard again "Okay, so clearly to attack now would be a suicide wish – so for now we're here on active reserve. And since we don't know if they're gon take their sweet time or not, we might be here a while."
Sam piped up "we should probably go find some place to stay in town that's close enough to-"
"I'd like to invite you all to stay at my home in the woods" there was an awkward silence and Derek swallowed uneasily as if even he himself couldn't believe what he'd just said. He backpedaled a bit "What I mean to say is that the woods are the epicenter of almost all activity here. My instincts are telling me that anything that goes down is going to happen there."
"But also, I know you're all experienced hunters. I'm one of the things you hunt. I want you to stay in my home as a gesture of good faith. If we're going to be fighting together, then I think it only makes sense that you to get to know my pack - they're mostly pups still, teenagers. I'd feel safer if you could be with them while I tried to instigate talks with the alphas
Dean puffed out a long breath "Well I'll be honest Derek; for literally our entire lives, we been hunters. We were brought up by a father who felt it necessary to be…indiscriminate in the slaying of all creatures supernatural. And for a long time that was our MO too. But now… now we know better. And If your pack is harmless then they're part of the folks we came to this town to help protect. So yes, we'll make your house our HQ for this operation" Derek's eyes widened and he gripped the table "Thank you"
And after a surprisingly peaceful moment of silence, they began to move all at once, quickly grabbing things, packing bags, and getting into cars. And in the bright light of the midday sun, they made their way to the Hale house
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Derek's mind wandered as his drove his sleek black camaro through town, leading the hunters behind him back to his den. The impala, bobby's truck, and Chris' maroon land rover followed, like an utterly conspicuous caravan. They turned off the main road and drove through the woods, pulling up shortly in front of the Hale house.
Gathering in front of the porch, Derek cleared his throat, and his face flushed a light pink "Um please just remember that my pack are all teenagers. And they can get a bit rowdy and confrontational and stubborn…and uh, frivolous. So yeah, uh, sorry in advance for anything rude they say or do. I really appreciate your help" he looked like he was going to say more but suddenly his nostrils flared and his eyes widened and he threw the door open, bolting inside. They followed after him, startled to see him catching a boy as he fell down the stairs. he had the boy in a princess hold and was softly reprimanding him for being careless. The boy chuckled loudly and smacked a wet kiss to his cheek before jumping lightly to the ground. He patted the alpha's chest fondly "Oh please sourwolf, are you saying I'm not graceful?"
He peered around Derek's shoulder at the guests standing in the doorway and let out an excited whooping laugh, coming around to greet them "You guys must be the hunters Mr Argent told us about, Sam and Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer! Oh god am I glad to see you guys!" he shoved his hand out forward and rapidly shook each one awkwardly handed out to him "I'm Stiles and aside from old Sourwolf over there I'm basically the most important member of the pack. Token human, token possessor of common-sense and logic, alpha's mate, comic relief, all at your service!" Sam and Dean and Bobby all appeared amused, and Chris shook his head fondly, a small smile gracing his face. Stiles began bouncing wildly and hugged himself, spinning around in a small circle "This is fantastic that you're here, I'm gonna go get the others, be right back!" he ran off with a wave over his shoulder and a kiss blown at Derek, who looked thoroughly mortified.
Bobby let out a low laugh "Some kid. So he said he's a human pack member?" Derek nodded and gratefully took up the swift change in topic as the polite gift it had been "Yes, they're a critically vital component of any successful pack. They can go places and do things and meet people that we simply cannot. They help negotiations with hunters, which means you'll probably be seeing more of him, and since they have no ties to the pack other than human loyalty they can't be used against us or us against them. They're typically safe from all code-abiding hunters," he flushed a dainty shade of pink again and his face softened "Stiles has a bit of an ego, but he is extremely important to the pack. I'd normally never admit it, but he's definitely the smartest and the best strategist. Unfortunately he's also rather self sacrificing, always using himself as bait…But nevermind, here they come" he turned to the back entry where he knew the pack would burst out from in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, tadaa.
Lydia was the first to enter the room, in her ridiculous heels and vintage dress she looked like a starlet, and commanded attention like one. Shortly behind her were Scott, Jackson, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Danny. Stiles burst in panting "it's unsettling how eager you all are to leave me in your dust" but his face broke out in a foxy grin, and he bumped fists with Scott before making his way to sit next to Derk on the loveseat. The rest of the pack quietly filed in to sit on the floor near Derek's feet, sans Lydia who leaned delicately on the armrest of the sofa. He briefly introduced his pack, and they all greeted the hunters warmly enough. "Pack, these are the hunters that have come as backup-" "Hey there studmuffin" "Erica" Dean shifted uneasily in his chair. He was being leered at. By a sixteen year old werewolf. Goosebumps.
Sam giggled at his expense and took over "So we're not actually here to take an offensive. For all we know the pack coming in could be peaceable. We're gonna stay here with you while your alpha tries to find and talk to them. We know you guys are strong and fast and can probably take care of yourselves under normal circumstances, but these aren't normal. We have special tactics that should help keep everyone safe" he turned to his bag and pulled it onto his lap "The first measure of precaution we're going to take is salting the perimeter. This salt has been mixed with mountain ash so it should be doubly potent. Normally we'd only do the doors and windows, but these wolves can tear through walls like rice paper, so every inch of the inside of the house is getting a thick line of this stuff alright? Alright" he took out two huge bulk bags of salt and laid them on the floor, then began passing out supersoakers "Now I know this isn't something hunters usually use on werewolves, but should you find yourself in life-or-death peril, these should help at least get them to back off. If your aim is good. Each supersoaker is filled with holy water, no spraying each other please it hasn't been tested on human-form wolves, and if you need a refill we've got a ten gallon jug of it that we're gonna bring in fro the car. Any questions?"
In response Jackson said something especially douche-y and Stiles snapped back at him to not be such a great big bag of dicks. Suddenly a man appeared from nowhere in the middle of the room. he was by stiles side immediately he kneeled, his trenchcoat pooling on the ground, and reached out to Stiles' face with reverence "brother?" the visiting hunters all sighed heavily. Derek placed his hands around Stiles and pulled him into his lap. He growled viciously, a deep rumble in his chest that startled the man and made him stand and take a step back "Apologies. I was mistaken" the man said, moving to stand beside Dean. All the wolves on the floor bristled, Scott had stood up angrily and moved closer to his alpha and best friend protectively "Mind telling us who your friend is?" he demanded.
Bobby sighed and glared at the three, gesturing at the man to answer "I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord. I share bonds with these humans. Forgive me for startling you, my brother Gabriel's last words were…quite similar to the ones you just uttered" he deadpanned. "Wait so I almost got touched by an Angel? Derek you always ruin cool things. You are a cool-thing-ruiner" the wolf in question let out a brief snort of amusement, but then glared at Stiles "Sorry I tried to protect you from the man that appeared in our home with the only apparent goal of touching your face. My mistake" Stiles grinned and kissed him on the cheek, then turned around only to let out another noise of surprise. Castiel and Dean were locked in what seemed like an intensely emotional wordless conversation. Their faces were mostly blank. Stiles giggled "Aren't you going to give that Castiel guy shit for using your patent pending brooding-glare-of-affection?" poutyface.
Bobby coughed loudly and the room silenced quickly. He glanced at Derek, "I believe you have an alpha pack to find, and I'm pretty sure time is, you know, of the essence here" he bobbed his head towards the door. Derek bristled, but he nodded "You're right, you're absolutely right. So I'm going to go and find them, and try to talk to them, and if anything goes wrong I'll howl. My pack will be able to what different howls mean, and they can relay it to you," he sighed deeply, he looked incredibly nervous. Turning to the kids he kneeled down beside them and his voice became softer, but edged with dominance "You listen to these men, you do as they say. Erica and Jackson you keep your damn mouths shut and you show them some respect. Scott, you can keep your phone, but if you so much as send Allison a single text it'll be unusable as scrap metal by the time I'm done with it. You all know Stiles is pack mom. Aside from the hunters, he's in charge while I'm gone. Jackson if you give him shit while I'm gone you'll regret it…Now all of you stay close. Absolutely no one leaves the house. Absolutely no one leaves the group without a buddy, even to go to another room. As soon as I'm gone, this house goes into total lockdown. Understood? UNDERSTOOD?" they all replied with meek "yes"es. Sam and Deam were mouthing to 'pack mom?' each other, Bobby looked exasperated, Castiel was staring at the wall, and Chris looked on with amusement.
They tested the ash-mixed salt, drawing a small circle around Derek. When he couldn't leave it or even come close to the line, they knew it would keep them safe in the house. Leaving a crack so he could get out, they lined the entire inside perimeter of the house, double lining the windows and doors. Throughout the whole procedure, Stiles looked uneasy. He stood with a hand on his hip, scratching his head. Finally he turned to Sam "Hey man, what if they dig in up from under the foundation? Or jump down onto the roof from the treetops?" He mulled it over "You're right Stiles, that could be catastrophic. Cas, can you infuse the roof and foundation with the ash?" the angel nodded grimly, disappeared, and then reappeared a moment later "It is done"
Stiles mouth hung open, He moved closer to Castiel, ignoring Derek's poutyface "Excuse me if the only answer we're supposed to know is angel-magic, but how did you do that man? You were gone for like, a fraction of a second" Cas seemed slightly uncomfortable, but he answered dutifully "I went to a higher plane, atomized the area, and then surrounded the roof and foundation particles with the ash dust" Stiles let out the most incredibly happy noise "Oh my god that is so incredibly cool. See what we'd be missing out on if you wolfed on this guy Dee? I need to go tell Lydia, this will absolutely get her math-nerd rocks off. AAH!" and he was stumbling into the other room eagerly. Castiel looked so dazed and confused that Sam coughed lightly and patted his shoulder "Thanks Cas. Can you keep guard and watch for the alpha pack? They're going to be really similar to him" he pointed at Derek "and there should be more than five but less than ten of them" he nodded, and was gone.
After sealing the entire house, Derek made to leave. He was stopped by Stiles tugging at the back of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss and an embrace. He nuzzled his face into the crook of the younger man's shoulder "Stay here" he whispered "Stay safe. Look out for them" then he licked a stripe up his neck and looked at his pack "just remember what I told you. Listen to the hunters, listen to Stiles, listen to that Angel if he ever has anything to say. Just…be good"
Stiles said it so quietly it barely left his mouth, but Derek heard it loud as a bell "You stay safe. Don't play the martyr or the hero. I love you" and he left his house with a smile on his face.
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Derek could barely control his breathing as he made his way through the dense woods. Leaves crunched beneath his feet and branches swayed gently in his wake as he pushed past them. It reminded him of the scene in the last Harry Potter film; here he was recreating it, walking to his death like a self-sacrificing idiot. Oh god, he thought. He could feel his lungs fluttering as he hyperventilated, trying to pump the small amount of oxygen they had access to into his bloodstream. He remembered every time he had held Stiles as his body shook with panic and hysteria, and his chest ached. The muscles in his legs twitched and jumped beneath his skin with every heavy step. As he moved deeper into the woods he felt like his fear grow. He felt stupid and young and vulnerable.
What was he doing? They were going to kill him. Probably on sight, probably without warning. He was never going to see his pack or his mate again, but worse, they would know the instant it happened. They wouldn't even have the comfort of a few hours' worth of ambiguous uncertainty. This would hurt them so much worse than it would hurt him.
And in that instant, as Derek fleetingly considered turning tail and scampering home, he felt three huge presences looming, felt the pull of alphas stronger and older than him. Impossibly old and unbearably strong. His knees wobbled. They had surrounded him and he hadn't even noticed. He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes, casting up a prayer to…something; he didn't know what. As he opened his eyes they blazed red and he focused all of his energy into staring the nearest one down "Why are you in my territory, and what do you want with my pack?"
The two that flanked him moved around slowly to stand with the one in front of him and he immediately felt deeply intimidated; they stood on all fours like true wolves, but were the size of horses. Course fur hung shaggy around their necks and shoulders, and along their backs were scars from centuries of battles. One, the largest of the three, had a heavy black spear jutting out of its back, broken off but lodged in the thick hide like a badge of glory, standing out in stark contrast to its pale tawny fur. Derek imagined the pain of a wound healing around something as small as an arrowhead, and winced in sympathy.
His fingers elongated into claws as the smallest among them shifted lazily into her human form; lithe and graceful, her hips splayed out wide from her dainty waist and cocked at a sharp angle as he crossed her arms and glared at him "Hale, we bring no quarrel to your doorstep other than one you yourself have cultivated. We have come to hunt and slay the abomination" her arm dropped and she curled her fist into the ruff of the huge pale wolf. Derek took a step forward, but aborted it when the two wolves began to growl fiercely "Are you talking about the kanima? Because it's been taken care of; it's become a wolf again. It's safe and stable and it hasn't hurt anyone"
The woman inhaled slowly "We're well aware that you killed the kanima and accepted it into your pack. There are pieces missing though, there are things you do not know and do not understand. You haven't seen you uncle since that night, have you? He helped you kill the beast, struck the killing blow, and then vanished. You can try to tell me I'm wrong, but I'll hear your lying heart. I know, boy." Derek shifted uncomfortably, clenching his fists "Okay, I won't lie. You're right about what happened, but what does it mean? How is it important or relevant?"
Her eyes softened but her voice remained icy "Your uncle Peter lay dead once, and he should have stayed that way. The ritual he performed to bring himself back to this world is forbidden because it is a curse. It is evil magic so dark and so foul that it burns and corrodes and corrupts. This is because it is born from man's vices, hate and fear, born from the blackness that each human carries within themself. It is unforgiveable and it is all consuming. Even if he had not become further tainted by the kanima's blood, there would be no fate for him but death. And that is a fate that we have come to oversee"
His brow furrowed and he paused for a moment "So you're not going to harm us?"
She cocked her head "What? No, child. We come to…assist. What you must understand is that the only thing worse than a kanima is killing one. The kanima is a cursed being, born from desire and twisted by human vices. They may be evil incarnate, they may be the embodiment of desperation and jealousy and vengefulness, but they themselves are innocent, servants to a master that controls them. Though the kanima is an abomination, its purpose is pure. It becomes a creature of justice. But the hand of morality can serve as a catalyst for slaughter indiscriminate in the wrong hands." Her arm flexed and her voice broke. The wolf to her left shifted into its human form; tall and stocky, built heavy and powerful, she stood unabashed and earnest with her long raven hair hanging limp down her back.
Stepping forward, she ran a finger down the bridge of Derek's nose as one would to a puppy. "You have the kanima's blood on your hands, and that alone is a cause for concern, but I am more than certain that despite that, your act was selfless and your intentions were pure. You meant only to give the creature solace, and to protect those that it would harm. Your uncle though, your uncle has very likely become something we have never before encountered. There is simply no telling what the combination of the two curses did to him. As if his soul wasn't tarnished enough from the death ritual, now he has the blood of the kanima on his hands, and it has properties unknown fully even to ourselves. We have deliberated, and are sure that this was planned; we have no doubt that these two events were put into motion by outside forces. Which means that something is helping him. We are here to investigate, and we are here to combat Peter. You have our cooperation as long as we have yours."
Derek was about to say something unpleasantly discourteous when his nose did some investigating of its own. It discovered something that gave him pause. Before, he had been so cloaked in the stench of his own fright that he hadn't noticed the equally acrid fear of the alphas. Once he caught the scent of it, it hit him like a freight train; they weren't just concerned about Peter, they were terrified. He whuffed in deeply and took in great lungfulls of the rank odor of heavy emotion that surrounded them. Somehow they had sources that kept them informed of the minutiae of his town, they had known about this for ages, and he could tell because the smell had soaked in over time and grown powerful, potent. And it was at that moment that they won him over completely. They had been dreading coming here. They, the strongest and wisest of his kind, feared for their lives. Then he thought back to their voices. Under the frantic prey-like beating of his own heart, theirs' had remained steady. They were in a nightmare of abject horror, and they hadn't lied to him once.
"I don't know how I'll explain this to my pack, and I don't know how much we'll really be able to help if he's become something worthy of your attention, but you're welcome to come to my den. We'll join you as best as we can in battling my uncle, and we'll be happy to have you stay in our home."
And the women smiled, and their companion made a noise of contentment from its spot on the forest floor, and they followed him back through the woods the way he came. And he wondered whether he was walking back alive, or bringing home death to the people he cared about most in the world.