The pen was cold. It was like ice touching his skin, cutting deep into his palm as he held it in his shaking hand. He had never hated anything more in his life. Not Matt, or Gerard or Kate. This pen was like all three of them mixed together to become one last evil thing. The tip hovered over the ghostly white piece of paper. He laid his fingers on it, biting his lip. "Letters are personal," The woman began. She had introduced herself as Della. "The mate of an alpha wouldn't just shoot a text, no, he'd want to make his departure more personal." Her voice was low, taunting, and startling calm. She placed her palms on either side of Stiles, the wood of the table gasping in surprise, and leaned down, whispering in his ear, "Go on. Tell your mate you're leaving."

Stiles turned hard eyes onto her. Her skin was dark in the bright light of the Argent's dining room, her brown eyes were turning a honey color with the flicker of a lilac scented candle next to them. She had lit it the second they walked through the door, and now it burned, laughing at Stiles with every flicker.

"What would you wish me to say?" Stiles sarcastic tone filled the room. "Honey, I'm tired of always smelling like wet dog?"

Della licked her lips, watching him closely, a smile tugging its way onto her face. "They said you were a clever one. I'm very happy to know that they are right." She moved towards the window, staring out into the darkness. Night had always been painfully black in Beacon Hills. It was as if once the sun fell, light was no longer able to fill the space. Street lights would burn out, house lights would flutter off, cars would stop driving by, leaving only dark. "But that is an excellent question. We don't want you to give too much away. If Derek was to know about the real reason why you are leaving, well, let's just say he might do something he'd regret. How about I let you come up with a reason why you're leaving, you know, since you're so intelligent?"

Stiles stared at her, then let his eyes drift to the paper. He put the pen on it, letting it shape out the words, mouthing them as he wrote.

Dear Derek,

I love you. Don't think I don't. I'm not leaving because of anything you did or said or how you acted. I'm leaving because of me. I have to do this, and you have to let me go. It's the best thing for us. I don't know what the future holds, I haven't thought that far ahead, but as of right now I'm gone, and I'm not coming back. I know it's impossible for you to understand why, since I don't understand myself, but please, just let me do it. Thinking things through has never been my thing, has it? It's just how I do things. So please, let me do things my way, and let me go. Don't blame yourself, and don't let the pack blame themselves either. Just know that I wanted things this way.

Love, with all my heart, really,

Stiles.

Della watched every move Stiles made. She smiled once he looked back up at her, and snatched the letter from his hand, reading it over closely, analyzing every word. She then sent it out with a hunter, to be fact checked by Allison, she said.

"You are making this all very easy," She said, sitting across from him. "You're a very respectable young man. I understand that you must have many questions, and in due time, they will all be answered, but at this moment, why don't we pick your new home?" She pulled out a stack of brochures. She laid them out in a rainbow of colors on the table, letting Stiles' eyes skim over them, looking at them closely.

"I didn't know hunters had actual colleges," He said, his eyebrows scrunched together. Della laughed.

"Of course we do. They're our campuses, disguised to look like normal schools. They even offer general classes like Math and History, but a majority of the classes are supernatural based. Werewolf 101, Herbs and Plants, Magic wielding creatures, combat training, Mythology-"

"Very creative names," Stiles cut her off. She rolled her eyes.

"Your classes will be mostly supernatural and mythical based, with a basic class here or there. You will be a mid-semester transfer, but the classes are fairly easy to catch up on, especially for someone who knows as much as you. I could give you a few moments to read over the pamphlets if you'd like?" She raised an eyebrow, her eyes watching the way he scanned over the papers.

"No, I'd like to go here." He pointed to a school. It was one in Washington, a picture of a clear blue sky and mountains on the cover. She looked at it, nodded, and took it from him.

"Alright. Since we have that taken care of, we will transport you now. We can't have you in Beacon Hills, or Derek might smell you. You'll stay in a hotel with a me and my team in Washington while we explain everything to you and while the school processes the transfer, then you'll move to a dorm and start training." Stiles watched closely. She was biting her lip, looking at the paper in disgust and surprise, and Stiles wondered what kind of school he's picked.

Guess he'll find out soon.