CHAPTER TWO

It took only three days for Stiles to decide that he was much better suited to a rural lifestyle than that which his hosts occupied in the town. His first few days in Bath had been spent being prodded and measured in various shops as Lydia endeavoured to "correct his truly abominable wardrobe" so that she wouldn't be ashamed to appear in public alongside him. It was torture, plain and simple, although his chief discomfort had come about after he'd been forced to admit that he couldn't afford several of the items shed ordered for her on the money that his father had sent with him. She had smiled at him as though he were a child and had calmly informed him that his new clothes would be paid for by the Ito Pack.

Once "suitably dressed" they had begun to introduce him to Bath society, beginning with an evening spent at the Upper Assembly Rooms where it was far too crowded for his liking. It had been a successful introduction, according to Lydia, and his presence had been "noted."

Stiles honestly couldn't decide whether or not this was a good thing.

Following this supposed success they began to visit the Pump Rooms every morning where they paced the long gallery for an hour alongside the fashionable men and women of Bath. It seemed that it was Mrs Martin's desire that he be introduced to the important members of Bath's human society as quickly as possible whilst Lydia was slightly more reserved about introducing him to the members of the werewolf society, explaining that while the should know them by sight he should really be introduced to the Betas of each Pack first so that they could confirm that he wasn't a threat. Then he could be introduced to the Alphas who would then permit him to be introduced to the Gammas. So instead she introduced him to a couple of Omega wolves who lived out of town and pointed out the others from a distance.

It wasn't until the evening where Stiles made his first appearance at the Lower Assembly Rooms that he was finally introduced to one of the other Packs that resides within Bath.

The Hale Pack.

Although, in typical Stiles fashion, it didn't go quite to plan…

"Oof!"

Stiles winced as he felt himself collide with a solid wall of muscle, his body rebounding so violently that he would have fallen had a strong pair of hands not grabbed his upper arms.

"Alpha Hale!" Lydia gasped from somewhere behind him, drawing his gaze up from where it had settled on the top button his saviours waistcoat just in time to see the distinctive red glow bleeding out of a pair of hazel coloured eyes. For a long moment Stiles couldn't look away, not even when the grip on his arms tightened, but eventually he was able to tear his eyes away in order to glance back at the concerned Lydia. "Please, accept our apologies."

She and her mother offered him a perfectly synchronised curtsey each, heads tilted over.

Stiles felt his eyes going wide.

He had been distracted by, well, he couldn't remember what he had been distracted by but whatever it was it had caused him to collide with someone. And not just anyone; an Alpha.

"I…I do apologise, Alpha Hale," Stiles uttered, his cheeks flushing a deep red colour as the handsome young man he had walked into turned his attention back to him. Alpha Hale couldn't be much older than eight-and-twenty, a surprisingly young age for one in such a position of power and responsibility. In regards to his looks he was strikingly tall, garnering the attention of every unmarried young woman in the room, lightly tanned and possessed a fine head of brown hair so dark it was almost black. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Obviously not," Alpha Hale responded, gazing down his nose at the human before him as he released the hold he had on Stiles' arms. "I do not believe we have been introduced."

Mrs Martin stepped forwards to stand beside Stiles, giving him a quick look that was clearly intended to remind him to offer the Alpha a suitable bow of respect as she introduced him,

"Alpha Hale, may I present our guest for the winter season, Mr Stilinski."

Bending at the waist Stiles executed a perfect bow, just as he had been taught to but with the added head tilt in deference to the other man's Alpha status, holding it for a slow count of ten before returning to his full height. He was surprised to find that Alpha Hale had been joined by an older man of about thirty and two young women during the course of his bow.

"Mr Stilinski," Alpha Hale murmured, his hands clenching into obvious fists at his sides for a moment before he turned and gestured to his three companions as he introduced each of them prompting another round of bows and curtseys. "May I present my Betas, my uncle, Mr Peter Hale, and my sister, Miss Cora Hale. With them is my niece, Miss Malia Tate."

Strange, Stiles thought as he returned to his full height once more, that Alpha Hales niece didn't share their name yet it was obvious by their appearance and the way that the Beta, Mr Peter Hale, kept her close that he was her father. Did that mean she was natural born?

"Have you been long in Bath, Mr Stilinski?"

This question came not from Alpha Hale who appeared as though he had smelt something foul, prompting Stiles to wonder briefly if his scent wasn't quite a pleasant get as Alpha Ito had claimed, but from his uncle, Peter Hale who wore a peculiar knowing smirk on his face.

"About a week, sir."

"Really!" Peter cried out with affected astonishment, causing his daughter to snigger.

"Why should you be surprised, sir?"

"Why indeed?" he responded, his smirk only increasing. "Why, because in situations such as these propriety demands that some emotion be raised by your reply, and surprise is easily assumed, and not less reasonable, than any other. Now, we're you never here before, sir?"

Miss Cora Hale and Miss Malia Tate exchanged a smirk of their own.

"Never, sir."

Beside him Lydia wore a frown as she observed the way Alpha Hales hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides, his body trembling ever so slightly as he stared across at Stiles.

"Indeed!" Peter exclaimed once more. "Have you yet honoured the Upper Rooms?"

"Yes, sir," Stiles responded, puzzled by the strange conversation. "I was there last Monday."

"Have to been to the theatre?"

"Yes, sir; I was at the play on Tuesday."

"To the concert?"

"Yes, sir; on Wednesday."

It felt as though he were being interrogated, questions being fired at him by the Beta whilst his companions remained silent. People were also beginning to glance their way, openly envious or frowning in confusion, which only made Stiles feel even more uncomfortable.

"And are you altogether pleased with Bath?"

"I like it well enough, sir, although I find I miss my home more than I expected I would."

"Uncle," Alpha Hale interrupted Peter before he could pose another question, causing them all to turn towards him. He looked strangely uncomfortable. "It is time that we were going."

This statement only caused Peters smirk to grow.

"Of course, Alpha," he murmured, turning to offer Stiles a parting bow. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Stilinski. I am sure we shall run into one another again in the coming days."

Stiles didn't know quite what to make of that but he bowed politely in response.

He moved aside to allow the four members of the Hale Pack to make their way towards the exit, placing himself closer to Lydia, and watched as everyone else moved aside for them.

"…was it just me or were they acting strangely?"

"Alpha Hale is not the most sociable of men at the best of times," Mrs Martin admitted softly as the three of them turned and continued their journey into the Lower Rooms. Lydia offered a noise of agreement, slipping her arm through his as they finally made it into the main room where the dancing was taking place. He hoped she didn't want him to dance with her; he'd always struggled with formal dancing fur to the fact that when he and Scott had been learning together he had always had to take the woman's part and now struggled to remember the men's part. "Which is entirely understandable, all things considered…"

"Things?" Stiles repeated, his curiosity instantly peaked. "What things do you speak of?"

"Shortly after we arrived in Bath most of the Hale Pack perished in a fire at their family estate," Mrs Martin explained softly, her voice tinged with sadness even as she watched the revellers. "Only those who were visiting Bath survived. With the death of Talia Hale, the Alpha at the time, it passed to her daughter, Laura, who was killed five years ago by rogue hunters. That is when the Alpha status passed to the current Alpha, her brother, Derek."

"There's also a rumour that he lost his True Mate to consumption," Lydia added mournfully. "But no one from the Hale Pack has ever confirmed whether or not the rumours are true."

Stiles' heart clenched sympathetically; he knew what loss felt like, knew what it was to lose a parent, and yet he couldn't imagine what losing almost his entire family would feel like.

They stayed for another hour or so, Lydia dancing with several eligible young men although none of them seemed to peak her interest until she accepted her final dance of the night. He was strikingly handsome, with the most startling green eyes, high cheekbones and wore clothes of the highest quality and in keeping with the current fashion. To say that he and Lydia made a striking couple as they dominated the dance floor was an understatement.

"So is that the young man you've got your eye on?" Stiles enquired as the three of them settled into the carriage for the journey home from the Lower Rooms. "What's his name?"

"Jordan Parrish," Lydia answered by way of a confirmation, settling her hands in her lap as she began to rattle off what she considered to be the important facts. "Four-and-twenty years of age. Good family. Newly returned naval war hero. Annual family income of £10,000 per annum. Made his own fortune on prize money during the war. Single. And a Hellhound."

Stiles guffawed loudly,

"A Hellhound?!"

"I know, he doesn't seem the type, does he?"

No, he didn't, but this particular fact did help to explain why Lydia had set her cap at him.

It certainly wasn't for his fortune, substantial as his fortune was, it was because they were both creatures that were closely associated with death; a Wailing Woman and a Black Dog.

They returned to their day to day routine, mercifully with far less shopping than there was before, although now it seemed that everywhere Stiles went there was a member of the Hale Pack which resulted in half-a-dozen new introductions courtesy of Mrs Martin or Lydia.

According to Lydia seventeen-year-old Isaac Lahey, who they bumped into in a popular tea shop, had suffered through a thoroughly unpleasant childhood. His mother had died whilst fighting to bring him into the world, leaving him and his older brother, Camden, in the care of their abusive father. According to her "reliable source" the abuse had been so bad that Isaac still suffered from claustrophobia all these years later and his brother had run away to join the army, a decision which had eventually led to his death at the Battle of Badajoz in 1812. He had been rescued from his father by the current Alpha Hale less than a year previously and had accepted the offer of the bite in order the escape his tormentor.

Erica Reyes, also seventeen, and Vernon Boyd, eighteen-years-old were introduced him in the Pump Rooms on the morning of his fourteenth day in Bath. Boyd, as he preferred to be known which immediately endeared him to Stiles, had lost his parents as a young child to scarlet fever, nearly succumbing to the disease himself, and was sent to live with his elderly grandparents who lived in a small cottage on the border of the Hale family estate. As a child he became good friends with Cora and Malia and through them grew close to Laura who, after the fire, offered him the Bite in order to begin rebuilding their Pack. Apparently Boyd hadn't even hesitated, knowing that it would reassure to know that he'd be looked after once they were gone. Erica had lived in Bath her entire life but due to her parents running a boarding house had most certainly not mingled with their class of people until after she had been turned. She had been born with epilepsy, a disease of the mind which caused her to suffer potentially deadly fits. Her parents had gone to several Alpha's begging for help, but only Alpha Hale had been willing to allow her to join his Pack. Lydia had hurried to explain that they hadn't gotten around to approaching Alpha Ito or she would have helped them. They were engaged to be married once they both turned twenty-one and were True Mates.

A concert at the Upper Rooms introduced him to the next two members of the Hale Pack; Jackson Whittemore and his husband of one month, Ethan Steiner. Jackson was eighteen-years-old and had been a member of the Hale Pack since he was born due to the traumatic events surrounding his birth. Due to the high profile of his birth parents, Sir Gordon and Lady Margaret Whittemore, his story was well known; his mother had been seven months pregnant when their carriage lost a wheel and tumbled down an embankment five miles from home and was found, mortally wounded, by Talia Hale who helped her to bring her son into the world before she succumbed to her injuries. As there were no other living relatives the Hales had taken Jackson in as one of their own. His premature birth had left him weak and frail, forcing Talia to turn him when he was only six months old in order to save his life. Upon Jackson's eighteenth birthday he has inherited his father's title, fortune and estate which, according to Mrs Martin, had turned him into one of the most sought after young men in Bath despite the fact that he had already been engaged to his True Mate and according to Lydia they had been forced to bring their marriage forward by a couple of years in order to get those wishing to steal him away from his True Mate to leave him alone.

"They make for a striking couple, do they not?" Lydia had sighed once they had separated in order to take their seats. Of course Jackson and Ethan being werewolves meant that they could undoubtedly still hear every word they spoke, not that Lydia cared. "Had he not already found his True Mate by the time he arrived I probably would have flocked after him myself, at least until Mr Parrish had arrived. And, oh look, there he is now. Smile, Stiles."

"Why should I smile at the man you wish to marry?"

"Because he will be more likely to approach me if my companions seem to be in good spirits," Lydia had all but hissed through her teeth, her own smile never faltering. Mrs Martin had offered a soft sound of agreement. "And we are in good spirits, are we not?"

Stiles had known better than to argue and/or protest.

He had learned the following afternoon that Mr Ethan Steiner was in fact a twin, his mouth dropping open in surprise when they (not literally, this time) bumped into them as he and Lydia took a stroll through the park. Mrs Martin had stayed home that day with a headache.

Aiden and Ethan Steiner, now four-and-twenty, had been born to a family of werewolves who belonged to one of the so called "Wild Packs" of the North but had broken from their Pack shortly after their nineteenth birthdays. There were many rumours surrounding their departure but one fact remained constant throughout all of them; upon reaching puberty the twins had discovered that they had the ability to merge their small werewolf forms into one giant form, the Voltron Wolf. How much time they spent traveling as Omegas was also uncertain, some rumours claiming mere weeks before they allied themselves with the Hale Pack, other suggesting that they toured Europe for a number of years. In fact only one fact about the twins arrival in Bath and subsequent acceptance into the Hale Pack was known by all; they had both met their True Mates, finding them almost at once within their new Pack.

Ethan had found Jackson whilst Aiden had found Cora.

"Do the waters of Bath hold some special powers over werewolves?" Stiles enquired as the three of them rode in their carriage one evening, heading to the "Full Moon Ball" which took place once a month. It had begun hundreds of years ago as a gathering of the human population of Bath, ensuring that they were all safe during the Full Moon and had evolved from there. "I mean, from what I understand finding your True Mate is, or rather should be, rare and yet here we have three couples within the Hale Pack and, what, five within the Ito Pack? That seems like rather a lot of True Mates to be considered anything close to a rarity."

Lydia chuckled.

"I don't think so," she responded brightly, tucking a feather from her elaborate hairstyle back in place after it had fallen in front of her eye. "Why did I decide to wear feathers?"

"Because they are the current fashion, my dear, and you wouldn't want to be considered unfashionable now would you," Mrs Martin announced calmly, fanning herself in the stuffy heat of the carriage. It was strange, Stiles thought, it was a chilly evening outside and yet for some reason their carriage was getting stuffier by the minute. "That colour suits you, Stiles."

Lydia had chosen his outfit for the evening, of course, and it consisted of a peacock coloured jacket with silver plated buttons, cut so as to suit his skinny frame, a velvet navy coloured waistcoat, stone coloured breeches, an ivory coloured shirt, cravat and stockings. His outfit was finished off by his finest black leather shoes, the large silver buckles gleaming on top.

"Thank you, Mrs Martin," Stiles murmured, tugging at the bottom of his jacket to untwist it. He longed to loosen his cravat but knew that Lydia would murder him if he ruined her hard work. "I wouldn't normally wear blue. Before your daughter got her hands on me I mostly stuck to greys and browns. And black, of course. They don't show the mud quite so much."

It was raining lightly by the time they arrived at the Upper Rooms so they wasted no time before darting inside, heading into the ballroom which was already bustling with activity.

Lydia uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"New faces," she murmured, drawing their attention to where a man stood in the far corner of the room with a woman on either side of him. "How interesting. I wonder who they are."

"There's Mrs Morrison," Mrs Martin announced, spotting one of the towns most dedicated gossips across the room. "If anyone knows their identity it'll be her. Excuse me a moment."

One of the women was young, no older than eighteen, and had an abundance of dark brown hair gathered into a bun at the base of skull, blue ribbons which matched her dress wound in to the simple hairstyle to make it seem more complicated than it actually was.

The other was older, closer to the man in age who had what Stile could only describe as salt and pepper hair. Her hair must once have been a vivid blonde but had now faded into a pale brown and her thin face was lined with age, particularly in the corners of her blue-grey eyes.

"They are the Argents, originally of Kent," Mrs Martin announced as she returned to them, primed with the information she had learned from her friend the gossip. "The gentleman is Mr Christopher Argent, a wealthy widower, and the young woman is his only child, Miss Allison Argent. She possesses a dowry of £10,000 and is expected to marry well. The other woman is his sister, Miss Katherine Argent, as yet unmarried and unlikely to be so given her age. They are in town so that Mr Argents father, Mr Gerard Argent, can take the waters."

Lydia hummed thoughtfully.

"Stiles. Ask Miss Allison Argent to dance with you?"

"What? No!"

His vocal protest was met with a glare so sharp that he couldn't help but capitulate, sighing deeply as he glanced across at the young woman he had just been ordered to dance with. Miss Argent was gazing longingly towards the crowded dance floor, hands clasped together.

"Why?" he enquired softly. "Lydia, why do you want me to dance with her?"

"She interests me," she responded simply, brushing her hands down her sides as she smiled warmly across at the rapidly approaching Mr Parrish. "Society dictates that I must wait to be introduced to her before we can speak properly. You, on the other hand, may ask her to dance without an introduction. Then, once you've danced together and engaged in suitable conversation, you can introduce us and then I can befriend her. Now, please, excuse me."

Her plan to catch Mr Parrish's attention was obviously working as he only had eyes for her.

"I suppose I should do as she says," he sighed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. Mrs Martin offered him a reassuring smile. "Pray that I do not step on Miss Argents toes…"

Weaving his way through the crowd surrounding the busy dance floor he came to a halt in front of the three Argents, offering them a bow before extending his hand to Miss Allison.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"Oh!" she gasped, a smile transforming her face. "Yes! I mean, yes, you may, Mr…?"

"Stilinski," Stiles supplied, nodding to her father as Miss Argent placed her small hand in his, allowing him to lead her out onto the dance floor, taking their places for the dance. "I must warn you that I'm not the worlds best dancer. My friend, Lydia, asked me to dance with you so that I could then introduce the two of you. I think she thought you looked a bit lonely."

"Oh," Miss Argent uttered once more as they began following the straight motions of the dance, her tone slightly more subdued than before. "Well, thank you. I was feeling lonely, I must admit; we only arrived in town yesterday so have yet to make any acquaintances."

"I understand you are here so that your grandfather can take the waters."

"I'm impressed," Miss Argent offered him what appeared to be a genuine smile as they came in close together before separating, Stiles stumbling ever so slightly. "The towns gossips work even faster than the ones back home. I didn't believe that was possible."

"Yes. I've only been here a couple of weeks myself and they've impressed me," he admitted with a laugh, moving around the couple to their right as the dance dictated, cutting it a little bit too close so that their shoulders collided ever so briefly. "Have you no friends in Bath?"

"None, Mr Stilinski," Miss Argent responded, laughing softly as she caught sight of his minor collision. Despite his less than stellar performance she was gliding through the dance as though she was a feather caught up in a breeze. "And yourself? Have you friends in Bath?"

"I am staying with Mrs Martin and her daughter, Lydia," Stiles explained, pressing his hand to hers as they turned around before falling back into line. "They are members of the Ito Pack and I have found myself to be something of an honourary member whilst I'm here."

"Werewolves?" Miss Argent exclaimed, startled. "You're staying with werewolves?"

"No, Lydia, Miss Martin, is a Banshee," he explained with a smile. "And her mother, Mrs Martin, is as human as you or I. They used to be our neighbours before they left Fullerton."

"Is that where you're from?"

"Yes," Stiles nodded. "A pleasant little village quite different to Bath, I can tell you."

This led them down the road of conversing about their homes, comparing the two villages which, by all accounts, seemed to be very similar indeed with only one glaring difference; whilst Fullerton was completely landlocked Miss Argents village was located on the coast.

Soon enough the dance reached its conclusion, Stiles stumbling only once more, and as he led his partner off of the dance floor he spotted a determined Lydia heading towards them.

"Miss Argent, please allow me to introduce Miss Martin," he recited the introduction as clearly as society demanded that it be done, mostly for the benefit of those persons blatantly listening in on their conversation. "Miss Martin, may I introduce Miss Argent."

From then on it was as though Stiles was no longer present; the two young women offered each other a polite curtsey before launching into a detailed conversation, their pleasant voices winding together as they willingly supplied information about themselves whilst being carefully not to overstep the level of appropriate information for their first meeting. Stiles was left to stand there, listening to them talk without being given the opportunity to speak himself. He didn't know whether to be offended or pleased that he had been spared.

Miss Argent, it turned out, was a keen musician who wished that she had more talent for drawing, the complete opposite of Lydia who could sketch a perfectly lifelike image of anyone she met but couldn't sing a note in tune. She had lost her mother the year before, hence why her father still wore black although she herself had already emerged from her period of mourning, and it was unsurprising that she was unwilling to speak of how she died. Lydia had been equally careful about how much she shared about why her father was no longer in her life. Miss Argent had no suitors, as of yet, but was delighted to learn of Lydia's attachment to and intentions for Mr Parrish who by then had been coerced into dancing with Miss Louisa Price by the girls mother. He was attentive to his partner, yes, but even Stiles could see that his smile wasn't as bright as it had been when he'd been dancing with Lydia. They spoke of the Ito Pack next, Miss Argents cheeks flushing as she posed question after question about what life was like in a Pack, as she sought out the truth of the rumours she had grown up hearing about werewolves, as she learned about Banshees.

As the two spoke, their friendship blossoming before his very eyes, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on edge. Someone was staring at him, but who? As discretely as he could he scanned the room and suddenly found his gaze locked with that of Miss Argent, the elder. Her gaze was cold, hard even, without an ounce of the friendliness that her niece displayed and it was painfully obvious that she did not approve of Miss Argents new friends.

Yet as Stiles watched, his gaze still locked with hers, she offered him a cold smile and a nod before she turned away to speak with her brother whose own face was purposefully blank.

Odd.

He wasn't given any time to ponder her reaction as Lydia all but dragged him out of the dance floor to dance with her, placing them directly beside Mr Parrish and his new partner, Miss Fredericka Collins, and his thoughts were soon dedicated to remembering the steps.

He probably would have pondered the reaction more the following day had a surprise been awaiting him when he came down to breakfast, Scott McCall and their mutual friend, Danny.

"…what are you doing here?"