A/N: So, after writing a few one-shots, I've decided to do an actual story. Normally, I wasn't planning on starting this so soon, but things happened, stories got deleted, and my patience had run out. Without further adieu, I give you my story. R&R. Enjoy!

House on Fire

We all live in a house on fire. No fire department to call; no way out.

Tennessee Williams

Chapter One

Blaine wasn't one who let things go easily. Actually, it would be a safe bet to say that his entire being was dictated by his emotions, and that, coupled with his intelligence, is what made him such a deadly predator. Of course, he would never go after a human. He had been raised better than that, was superior to that, and had no intentions of sinking so low.

But Derek Hale made him want to go after a human. He made Blaine want to tear and rip and completely and utterly destroy someone. Not something; oh no, that wouldn't satisfy him enough. It had to be a someone. Like, for example, Derek Hale. God, how he loathed that man…

Hale was cocky, stubborn, stuck up, and a ruthless monster who needed to be taken down. And Blaine had made it his personal mission to do just that, and then some. He was fueled by rage, hatred, and the need to exact his revenge. Those three emotions, above all others, had been eating him alive for more than four years. Ever since his mate, Marcus, had been murdered by that…that…that monster, all he's felt was hatred, rage, and revenge. It was almost sickening. Almost. Truth be told, Blaine kind of enjoyed those emotions. They burned furiously within him, making him stronger, more focused, and more determined than ever. And given his alpha status, the power was positively intoxicating.

So much so that it gave Blaine more energy than ever and he took off, leaving his house, his car, and all of his belongings behind. He didn't mind running, considering that he was the alpha of his… Oh wait, he didn't have a pack. That was stolen from him the day Derek killed Marcus. Ever since then, Blaine had been left on his own, and while the desire to create a pack was strong, his need for revenge was stronger. Not that that bothered him; he'd rather be alone on this particular mission.

Blaine started from his home in Buffalo, New York and was now somewhere in Utah. It had taken him a good long while to run that far and he often stopped to break into someone's house to shower, eat, and sleep before he moved on. On the few rare occasions, he stayed at a roadside hotel, but never for too long. To a complete stranger, even a werewolf, Blaine traveling on foot must have seemed like a bat shit crazy idea. But it wasn't to him. On the contrary, it made sense.

While he was very well off in the financial department, he didn't want to leave a paper trail, just in case Derek sensed something amiss once Blaine arrived at Beacon Hills. Not only that, but driving in his car wasn't fast enough; he was must faster on foot. Traveling with clothes and luggage would only weigh him down that much more. And, in all honesty, he just loved to run. He loved running fast; he loved the wind whipping around him; he loved the cold and the heat bristling against his skin. The sensations he felt were thrilling, but not as thrilling as what he'd feel when he ran into Derek…

It was only a matter of time until that happened…

. . . . .

Three years had passed since Peter Hale had died and Derek Hale became the alpha of the Hale pack. So many things happened in those three years. The pack had expanded; instead of it being just Derek and Scott, Stiles, Jackson, Danny, and Allison had been thrown into the mix. It was a weird mixture as well, seeing as how Stiles and Allison were the only humans in the pack. Both Scott and Derek weren't too sure if Allison, given her blood line, would even be able to successfully become a werewolf, so she remained human. And Stiles…

Stiles had always been something else in Derek's eyes. At first, he was an annoyance; the loser best friend of his pack mate. Granted, the kid had his uses, but for the most part, he was annoying and irritating. And somehow, after he became the alpha, Derek discovered that he couldn't stand being away from the quirky sixteen year old for too long. That realization hit him in the gut with the force of a bowling ball, and he had no idea what it meant.

That was a lie. Derek knew exactly what it meant. His father had told him stories about it, but Derek had never believed them. There was no way that he could have a mate. Even if he could, there was no way that his mate was Stiles. Stiles! Of all people his wolf could find attractive, more appealing than anyone else, why Stiles? He soon found out why.

Although Stiles had his faults, they were diminished by all of his good qualities. Like his intelligence, his loyalty, his brown eyes, his smile and his laugh, his charm… There were so many of them, and Derek was starting to get used to, and like, the idea of Stiles being his mate. Eventually, he began to crave it, want it, and need it to the point where he'd go to Stiles' house, sneak into his bedroom while he slept, and watch him sleep peacefully. However, that wasn't enough to satisfy him or his wolf.

But Derek was afraid.

Stiles was his mate, yes, but what if Stiles didn't return his feelings? What if he didn't want to be with him? Did he even deserve a mate? Derek didn't think he did, all things considered. Without warning, and without telling Scott, Jackson, or anyone else, Derek took off, going as far as Oregon before he stopped to think. He remembered the stories his father had told him. Once a werewolf found its mate, it refused to even look at anyone else. That the wolf would grow restless and agitated and, in the case of a dominant wolf such as Derek's or Scott's, aggressive to the point that the wolf would want to fight. Violently, painfully, until its mate was with it and had accepted it.

And when Derek ran away, not only was he abandoning his pack, but he was abandoning his mate. His wolf, already restless from being near Stiles but not close enough, was becoming angry. It wanted to growl, shred, tear, do anything as long as it meant that it could be with its mate. Slamming his hands on the steering wheel of his Camaro, Derek turned around and drove back to Beacon Hills.

When he returned, he was met with a confused and pissed off Jackson, a puzzled and upset Allison, and Scott, who was beyond furious with him. He understood Jackson and Allison's feelings as they were the newest additions to the pack, but Scott's fury seemed out of control, even more so than when Derek said something that actually pissed him off. It was as though Scott was angry on someone else's behalf than his own. And he was right; Scott was pissed at him because of what his abrupt departure had done to Stiles.

Apparently, according to Allison, and later Scott, whom Derek had to calm down via their usual method of fighting, when Derek left, Stiles became depressed. He didn't eat as much, he wasn't as talkative, and he wouldn't leave his house, except to go to school, and even then, that was pushing it. Guilt welded up inside him as he listened to them and he took off for Stiles' house before they even finished. Sure enough, once he entered through the usual window, there was Stiles, curled up in a ball on his bed, gripping the blankets tightly. Derek's wolf whined and urged Derek to console his mate.

With any further hesitation, Derek sat down on the bed. To his surprise, Stiles didn't jump or fidget or anything like that. Instead, he sighed and turned his head so that he was looking over his shoulder. When his eyes connected with Derek's, he gasped and sat up. So many emotions were displayed all over his face that it nearly broke Derek's heart. Before the brunette could speak though, Derek was smashing their lips together, causing Stiles to moan and wrap his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His wolf was more than pleased, and Derek didn't need any more persuasion. Gently, he pushed Stiles back onto the bed and claimed his mate.

Never before had Derek felt more complete, more calm and at peace, than what he felt when he claimed his mate. After that, he explained everything to Stiles and, much to his shock and pleasure, Stiles accepted their bond and told Derek to never leave him again. Of course, Derek complied. How could he not? Stiles was his everything; not even his pack was as important to him as his mate was.

Which is why, when Jackson came to him and asked him to bite Danny, he agreed. That was how Danny joined the pack.

Eventually, his pack mates moved on from being juniors to seniors and then to high school graduates. Allison and Stiles signed up for the local community college while Jackson and Danny went off to a university not too far away. Even though they were separated, they were still extremely close, and their werewolf speed allowed them to travel effortlessly to and fro. Scott, miraculously, got a job, and, when Stiles turned eighteen, he and Derek got their own place, a place that was big enough for them and that could house a pack member or two, just in case.

Which brought him to the present. Stiles, now nineteen, was currently at class and bored as hell, if his text messages were any indication. Derek, on the other hand, was at his old house, trying to fix it up as best he could, a project which had been ongoing since he first came back to Beacon Hills. Although it was taking him a while, it was well worth it. He wanted to have the pack all under one roof eventually, and that, along with his mate, is what kept him working on the house.

For once, things were actually going well for him.

A/N: And that's the first chapter. Tell me what you thought of it!