A/N: Have decided the rating will definitely go up later for violence. But not for a few more chapters. (Also, sorry these chapters are short, I'm writing this one kind of piecemeal.)
—
They both look scared, and Erica's makeup says she was probably crying before, but neither one is panicking. A tiny spark of pride flares up in Derek, and it burns a little, because the last time he saw them they were abandoning him, but that doesn't matter right now. He returns his attention to the woman. "We're not talking until you let them go."
She inclines her head slightly. "Of course. Although I believe they may also be interested in why I bit them."
Derek's eyes flick over, and Boyd and Erica are both bleeding, the marks visible on the sides of their necks. He resists asking the woman about it, struggling for any inch of ground in this negotiation, waits for her to explain.
"I'm an Alpha." Her eyes flare red briefly, and she walks over to the leather couch. "But not like the ones you know. I am an Alpha of Alphas. My bite claims wolves."
Claims. The implications hit Derek like a sledgehammer to the chest, and he almost stumbles, literally stumbles; but he doesn't. Because he can't afford to.
"They're not yours anymore." She nods at the two men standing guard, and they amble back, retreating away from Boyd and Erica. "The connection you have with them, the bite link, it's gone. They'll never be part of your pack again."
So that's what it was. That feeling in the forest, like the guts had been ripped out of him. That was his pack being taken away. He's aware of it, exquisitely, excruciatingly aware of the spaces in him where that power used to be, forces himself to assimilate that. If this does come down to a confrontation, he doesn't want to be caught trying draw on power that's not there anymore.
She's watching him for a reaction, but he denies her. He is perfectly composed. "We're still not talking until you let them go."
"Admirable, Mr. Hale." She smiles at him, with some humor this time. "You're still faithful to them even when they can't help you anymore." She folds her arms. "Even though, as we caught them running, I suspect they do not return your loyalty."
He doesn't respond. He said he wouldn't talk, and he's sticking to that.
The woman gestures at Boyd and Erica. "It's all right, you two can go."
They stand cautiously and try to meet Derek's eye. He spares them each a glance, but no more, and they get the message, leaving in silence. He hears their footsteps stutter and hesitate behind him, hears the front door swing open, another bunch of wolves walk in. The ones who were following him outside, probably.
They assemble there in the living room, a loose semicircle blocking the easy exit. There's still the two guards as well, and the woman. Whom he has not yet looked away from.
"My name is Julia." With her pack in the room, she practically radiates power. The display is working; Derek feels his heartbeat start to rise despite himself. She faces him. "And I want you, Derek Hale, to be a part of my pack."
His name again. He narrows his eyes. "How do you know me?"
"I know your family." Warmth breaks her face, unconcealed. "Knew. I was sorry to hear about the fire."
He won't take her display of compassion. "So, what? Now that I've popped back up again and I've got no family left to protect me, you're gonna seize the opportunity and force me into your pack?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Well, the plan was to ask you."
"You kidnapped two of my Betas and—claimed them. Did you expect—"
"You won't need them anymore, Mr. Hale!" Julia opens her arms. "That's the entire point! You will be part of a new pack. A much stronger one."
He scans the assembled wolves. There's something about them. They all look strangely…animal."And why would I want to join you when I could just stay right here in Beacon Hills?"
"Because, Mr. Hale, there are humans out there who want to kill us. Hunters dogging our every step." She doesn't have the same look. She's missing the blunt, feral hunger. "We need to strike first. We need to protect our kind."
"So you want more soldiers to kill hunters." He actually considers it for a moment, the image of Kate's lopsided grin flashing sudden and bright in his mind like the snap of teeth. But he remembers the last time he saw Chris Argent, so dumbfounded by his own father's actions, so desperate to save lives that he would work with wolves, and Derek knows that he can't do this. "Sorry, but I'm not going to carry out your vendetta for you."
Julia grows somber. "Mr. Hale. You are going to join us."
So he's not getting out of here after all. Her confident assertion sets off warnings in his head, but he won't just give this to her. "What, are you going to claim me too? Bite me all you want, I still won't follow your orders."
She sighs. "I can't just claim you. You're an Alpha too. It's more complicated than that. But please, believe me when I say we have ways of persuading you."
The threat is thick in her voice. Derek is fed up with this, and he lets his claws come out, at last. "Then persuade me."
She doesn't join the fray herself, of course. It wouldn't make much of a difference—Derek's more than occupied dealing with the other six, who come at him two or three at a time. They appear to be avoiding damaging him with their claws, for some reason; he receives body-blows by the dozen but his flesh remains mostly intact. He does not show the same restraint. Anytime his claws come in contact with something, he digs in deeper, twists and tears. He wants this to hurt.
When she does finally join in, Derek is beginning to slow. His body is having trouble keeping up with the unforgiving blows, the deep bruises and broken bones. But he feels the teeth sink into his shoulder, the first bite he's received the entire battle, and something shifts in him, some vital piece of ground falls away. He keeps going despite that, whirling, snapping at Julia; but she's already stepped back, gathered herself. She stands square to him, looks him straight in the eye, and roars.
Derek flinches.
Not just as a physical reaction. For just a second, he wants to stop fighting. He wants to submit.
That one second is enough for Julia's Alphas to get their hands on him, twist his arms behind his back, force him to his knees. He thrashes, but it's too late, and he's left to kneel there, his head thundering with anger and humiliation. He flinched. He flinched.
Julia grasps his hair and tries to tilt his head to the side, but he wrenches away, so she roars again, right in his face, her eyes burning so bright he can hardly look at them. Reflexively, he exposes his neck, and again he hates himself for it, but again it's too late. There's a stinging, like the prick of a needle.
Purple washes his vision. The others are talking, but he has trouble understanding what they're saying.
Julia's bright red eyes. "You're mine, Hale. You're mine."
—
Peter watches the sun rise.
It's a lovely sight. Perhaps the most beautiful one he's seen since Derek's been gone.
He thinks four days is enough.
Scott came around yesterday, asking about Boyd and Erica. Peter ruefully averred that he had seen neither hide nor hair of them. And that Derek was similarly absent.
Scott postulated that maybe he'd just joined up with the Alpha pack. Peter had done his best to give the impression that he found this a reasonable assumption.
Peter stretches, extends his claws experimentally. He's still weak. It's quite frustrating. He was hoping it wouldn't last very long, these unpleasant aftereffects of coming back from the grave. But alas.
Perhaps he should show up at Scott's house. His mother really is quite beautiful. No, that would scare the boy away. And he can't do this alone, that's for sure. It's going to take all of Scott's wide-eyed good intentions and forceful, brainless charisma to get this done. He'll find some other way to talk to him. Something slightly less invasive.
Peter leans against the burned-out timbers of the Hale house and smiles. He came back just in time.
