I am really sorry this is late and short as all hell, i am just a little busy and exhausted. keep up your voting guys
Scott/Allison Scott/Issac. Derek/Stiles or go with Derek/Stiles/Peter or and Evil Scott. next chapter will be longer I promise.
Several days had passed since Heathers pack had been found slaughtered and Stiles was getting pissed off. No matter how much research he did he could find nothing on whatever had invaded his dream, and quite possibly killed the pack as well. Nothing was coming together, Stiles slammed his laptop closed. Peter looked up from the chair he was lounging in, shaking his head slightly.
"Honestly Stiles, if you told us what you are looking for we could help you".
Stiles growled, frustration emanating from every pore. He knew he should tell them, god did he know. Stiles didn't even know why he was so adamant on not telling them, it didn't make any sense. Stiles looked over at Peter.
"Where's Derek?".
Peter shrugged "Dr. Deaton I think, I was once again ordered to stay and watch you, if you ask me I don't think Derek trust me at all".
Stiles snorted "Nobody trust you Peter, the only reason he trusts you with me, is because there isn't a reason to kill somebody you almost died trying to save".
"You trust me, albeit very little, however it is still trust".
Stiles narrowed his eyes "My brain says trusting you will be the most monumental mistake of my life, unfortunately I've chosen to ignore it god knows why, I haven't even done things logically, why start now".
Beaming was the best way to describe Peter at that moment, turning from a man who had lost everything, to a man who just gained something back. Nodding Peter set his book down, returning back to his disturbing self.
"Now that we have come to the conclusion that you refuse to listen to the logical side of yourself around me, tell me what haunts your thoughts".
Stiles contemplated silently to himself for a few moments before nodding . He recounted his dream to Peter, who looked more increasingly worried as he continued to speak. Peter stood up abruptly, ripping his book in half.
"Little one, sometimes I forget you are a child, however common sense it seems has alluded you, do not ever listen to what things that invade your mind tell you. You listened to smoke, a thing you could not possibly…".
Peter punched the wall behind him, leaving a gaping hole and crumbling concrete. Kneeling down in front of Stiles, he placed his hands on Stiles shoulders.
"We are pack, we protect each other, how are we to protect you when you keep silent, trust us… trust me".
Stiles turned his head to the side "Do you know what they are?".
Peter hit the side of the couch, standing up hand on chin.
"It is not a what Stiles, it is a who. Trust them in the fact that they are on your side, they do not lie. They will protect you, regrettably we have the misfortune of not knowing why".
"Yes, but who are they!?".
"They are knights, a smoke guard against the enemy. They call themselves the Stella Patronis*".
Peter moved back to his chair, he stared at Stiles, causing the boy to fidget uncomfortably.
"I have only heard of them in legend and myth, they only protect those of great importance, so little one, the question is, who are you?".
Stella Patronis*= Star Protectors