The house was on edge when they arrived. Derek had messaged everyone, informing them of who was coming over. Along with why they were doing so. Laura had ordered all hands on deck to keep the children safe. That, Derek understood if nothing else. The kids came first.
He called the betas, ordering to help prepare for their arrival. Namely, instructions on how to handle the twins. No less than two on point should they try anything suspicious. And they struck to kill. No questions asked. Whatsoever.
Stiles, similarly, prepared his own defenses. He was rather apt with the use of Wolfsbane and other anti-werewolf materials. Derek didn't fault him for that. Plus, he had been taking shooting lessons with Chris for weeks now. The young man was a superb shot and almost as skilled in hand to hand combat.
When he joined them in training, Stiles was able to keep up with Isaac and Erica. The two fastest in both packs. He was able to outlast both Boyd and Derek, who had the highest stamina. Granted, the damage he could actually inflict with his fists was somewhat minimal. But that's what poisoned knives were for.
Like mountain ash, he took to a habit of carrying any number of hidden knives on his person. Wherever possible. It made his a rather lethal opponent. One could not block what they could not see. And Stiles, for all he was worth was perhaps the most innocuous person imaginable. People didn't think much of him at first glance. He was easy to forget and overlook. But when push came to shove, he fought harder than any wolf.
That's what made him dangerous. He knew he was human. That he had limits. But he didn't care. When it came to his friends, when it came to his pack, there wasn't a more devoted sentinel in the world. It was one of the many reasons Derek loved him. But at the same time, it was a cause for concern.
Stiles was highly intelligent. Remarkably analytical and astute. With a knack for crazy ass plans that no one else in their right minds would've ever even dreamed of. But he was also rash, impulsive, bordering on manic. He jumped head first with no helmet at times. Placing himself in danger, not even considering that he might not walk away in one piece. Or at all for that matter.
Derek respected his boyfriend's desire to stay human. To keep that part of himself intact and untainted with what he viewed as something unwanted. Stiles was fast, smart, and stronger than most people could ever hope to be. But he was still human. And humans broke easier than werewolves. They healed slower. It was an ongoing issue for Derek. Placing that level of trust in someone. That level of confidence. But so far, Stiles hadn't given Derek or any other member of the pack any reason to doubt him.
When they arrived, Laura was waiting outside. Along with several other of the adult wolves. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were there was well. Scott was nowhere to be found. If Derek had to guess, he was at the Argent's. Informing them of the situation. No doubt trying to persuade them into joining the meeting. Even with how much Derek didn't entirely trust them, he couldn't fault the young man for having hope. Derek and Chris were by no means friends. But they could at least unite against a common enemy.
Stiles got out first, escorting Ethan and Aiden up to the house. Derek couldn't exactly pick up what his boyfriend said. But it sounded a lot like a threat. If the way the two of them shivered in fear. The both of them had learned not to fuck with Stiles. In any way. The consequences of which were less than pleasant. As all of them had come to know.
Laura led the lot of them inside, making sure Ethan and Aiden were in front of her. A typical wolf tactic. It gave her the advantage if they tried to spring a surprise attack. There was also Derek and Stiles to contend with. Even though the odds were against the twin alphas, Derek knew full and well not to trust them. Even after they were done talking.
As they entered the house, Derek saw that the remainder of Laura's betas were present. Including Cora. Totaling out at nearly twenty. Lydia and Jackson were also present. Further increasing their numbers. But Derek refused to allow himself to relax. Even for a second.
As they seated themselves, there more than a few people present who crinkled their noses. Detecting the traces of what Derek and Stiles had done last night. As well as this morning. The young alpha felt himself blush. Cheeks running red and hot. He knew full and well that his betas would know the moment he got within proximity of them.
Erica was the literal worst. The young she-wolf's eyebrows crawled into her hairline. A knowing smirk spreading across her face. Derek made a point to avoid eye contact. It was a conversation that was bound to happen. One that he knew wasn't going to be easy or pleasant. But it would have to wait until they were done with the twins. No matter how much his betas liked to gossip.
The others made faces as Derek and Stiles settled into the living room. Sitting next to each other, fingers lacing together. Ignoring the pointed stares of everyone around them. Yeah, they had sex. And it was awesome. But that wasn't really a concern at this point. Why the twins were here was.
Laura opted not to sit. Her posture firm and rigged as she glared at the two alphas in her home. Derek had seen his sister in many different lights. Rarely had he seen her furious. She was the most level headed person he ever knew. Next to their mother that is. But now, she was fuming with a rage he had never witnessed. Forget anything he could do to Ethan and Aiden. His sister was not likely to leave anything behind.
"Speak. And I'll decide whether or not you will leave here in one piece. Especially after what happened to those two." She said pointing to Lydia and Jackson.
The former was stone faced and utterly terrifying. Derek knew that she wasn't human. Not after the bite acted the way it did. Humans either died or turned when bitten by an alpha werewolf. Lydia, while mauled beyond reproach, had undergone neither. She was something else entirely. Something older, and darker than a werewolf. Something that radiated power and fear and majesty all in the same moment. He wasn't too keen on finding out exactly what it was.
Ethan was the first to speak. In a cautioned voice. His choice of words careful and concise. He was making sure that he didn't piss anyone off. Well, more so than they already were. As it turned out, the effort failed.
Deucalion had planned the attack on Lydia and Jackson without even mentioning it to the twins. They were in no way involved in that plan. Derek had a hard time finding a lie. Ethan's heartbeat was even and steady. As well as his brother's. That, and when the two teenagers had been found, it was Kali and Deucalion's scents who had been surrounding the area. Not the twins. That worked in their favor.
The motive behind the attack was simple. To throw a wrench into Derek and Laura's packs. One newly turned werewolf previously unaware of the supernatural was enough of a task. Having two was a goddamn nightmare. What the mad alpha hadn't expected that only one of them would turn. And that the both of them would take to the reveal with expert grace. Therefore, he had implemented a new plan of attack. Namely, those whom he could reach. Those outside of Derek and Laura's circle of protection.
The first option, and the most obvious, was the sheriff. He was a man seated in a position of power. One, who if turned, would surely have to take a leave of absence. The time being spent either in a hospital slowly dying. Or learning to control the perils of the shift. Either way, it would've royally fucked them over.
Covering up something such as a high rank officer going out commission wasn't easy. There was no way for them to suppress the media. Or the idle gossip of the town. People talked. And word traveled fast. The notion that the general populace discovered the existence of werewolves was rather terrifying to say the least. Especially since Derek and Laura had nowhere to run.
The next tactic had been to use Danny. Someone who was involved with Stiles and the others. But removed far enough to the point of him being vulnerable. His turning would also draw excessive amounts of attention. That's what got Ethan on the rail to abandoning Deucalion. The young alpha had feelings for the other boy.
What started off as convenient sex and the gathering of information had turned to something unexpected. A development of the unforeseen nature. It was the tiniest shove. But enough that had Ethan doubting his master. And where Ethan doubted, so did Aiden. That meant, here, Deucalion was two more alphas down. Which just left him and Kali. Not that it made things any easier.
Kali was a formidable woman. In every possible aspect. She was an expert fighter. Quick, agile, with no room for mercy. The she-wolf reveled in the sensation of violence. Blood being her drug of choice. It excited and thrilled her. To the point of mania. That said nothing compared to Deucalion.
As well-spoken and calm as the man seemed, Derek knew otherwise. The man was quite insane. There were many evils in the world. Sins of a vial nature that few men could ever stomach. Deucalion had more than committed his fair share of them.
Firstly, killing his own pack for power. After losing his eyes to Gerard, the man took a downward spiral to the deepest pits of hell. His mind snapped to pieces that could never be put back together. At that point, slaughtering his betas seemed a rather simple task. And slaughter them he did.
What he did after was just as horrifying. Convincing two other alphas to follow in his footsteps. To go against every natural instinct that there was in a wolf. To take the lives of one's pack. Merely for selfish gain. Derek couldn't even imagine the level of depravity it took to stoop so low. Even more so that the man wanted to add to his deranged pack.
The Hales were a noble bloodline. At least, in the world of werewolves. Their history being long and proud. It made sense that Deucalion viewed Laura and Derek as prizes. In the man's eyes, they were trophies. And little else. That's what made it all the worse.
He wasn't amassing power because there was a threat. Not because he had some terrible enemy to face down. But because he wanted what he imagined as an ideal pack. A group of outrageously powerful individuals that could stand against anything and everything. A singular and all-consuming desire to have the best. Derek tried his best not to vomit at the repulsiveness of it all.
Laura was the first to concede in the idea that the twins were telling the truth. She didn't trust them. Neither did Derek. But they had as much to lose as anyone by betraying Deucalion. In making an enemy of him. That, at the very least, they could work with. If nothing else.
With the details of the abandonment known, the group dispersed to begin planning for the inevitable attack. Deucalion wouldn't sit idle for very long. Patient he may be. But the man did like to play his games. Beacon Hills was his chessboard. And they were all just pawns to him. That, above all else, is what made him so completely dangerous. Everyone was expendable.
With most of the tension bleed out of the house, Derek's betas wasted no time in gathering around their alpha. Knowing smirks across their faces. Erica was the literal worst. Her eyebrows hadn't left her hairline since Derek and Stiles arrived. Boyd and Jackson just kept blank faces if nothing else. Scott and Isaac looked as if they were ready to burst into a fit of giggles.
Derek knew that they would confront him about having sex with Stiles. They were atrocious little shits with no sense of decency or decorum. As much as he tried to teach them otherwise. The young alpha felt his gut clench. A tightness forming in his spine. Well, here he went.
"One word, and you'll be running drills into the forest for the next twelve hours." He threatened.
"Oh come on, alpha my alpha. We just wanted to know how good of a lay Stiles was." Erica said teasingly.
"Dude, that's my best friend. So not interested." Scott said.
"We all know that Stilinski was bent over some surface and fucked from behind. Though, from the lack of limping, looks like Derek took it easy on him." Jackson quipped.
"He's only human after all."
Derek didn't consider himself to be an angry person. Granted, he had a short fuse and was easily annoyed by his betas antics. But by no means was he wrathful or hateful. That, being said, there was something about their words. Yes, they had said it as a joke. A good natured jab. Something that friends did. But Derek didn't find it to be okay.
The way they were talking about Stiles…It was as if being on the receiving end was somehow akin to being weak. To being less than. That Stiles, as a human, would never match up to a werewolf. That, in Derek's mind was the furthest thing from the truth. He was just as strong, and brave, and as loyal. The idea that he was somehow less for what they had perceived…He didn't like it.
"I wouldn't know much about fucking Stiles. He was too busy fucking me."
That seemed to shut them up. If nothing else. The lot of them were gob smacked into utter silence. All from surprise. Derek took a little pride in that. Being able to shut his betas up without using force or violence. The sheer shock of it more than sufficient.
"Wait…Stiles…You…What?" Scott asked.
"You guys are a bunch of assholes." Stiles said coming up from behind them.
The five of them didn't have anything to say. At all. Where Stiles was concerned, certain things went a particular way. If the betas disappointed Derek, they would wipe their faces, and try again the next day. Motivated and ready to work harder than before. With Stiles, things were a bit more complicated.
He was a sacred pillar of their pack. The human element. Seemingly innocuous but in reality, an all-consuming presence. He was the one who fought hardest. Planned the smartest. And so on. Disappointing him left a deep, unyielding ache in your chest. A sort of pang that didn't go away on its own. You didn't just want to work harder. You wanted to be a better person.
Derek could see it in their faces. The looks of realization that they had insulted their alpha and their friend. The one that had stuck by them through everything. Through every doubt. Every trial. Every fear. Stiles was there through it all. And they had failed him. Even if it was just in a small way, they had failed him.
They all go about their apologies. Erica being the best out of the group about it. The betas didn't fear Stiles. They respected him. So the act was genuine. Except for Jackson that is. The young man was a raging douche even now. Unwilling to admit that he had done anything wrong to begin with. Pride always led to the fall. And Derek knew that he would meet his sooner rather than later. Except it came a bit ahead of schedule.
"Jackson, apologize to Stiles and Derek. Or they'll learn just how much a "bitch" you are in bed." Lydia threatened.
The young wolf went rigid. All the color draining from his face. White as a sheet wouldn't have even come close. It was yet another example of just how terrifying Lydia Martin could truly be. She was far more than just a pretty face. And Derek knew it. What exactly she was, remained a mystery. But it didn't seem that important at the moment. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
There was a multitude of planning to be done. Preparations to be made. Namely, and most importantly, fortifying the pack houses. Stiles, surprisingly, had begun to learn warding magic. It was an old practice. A series of enchantments. Meant for protection and the like. He and Deaton had been busy these past few weeks. Derek was grateful for it.
The other houses would need work as well. Though it would take some time to shield all of them. Stiles was the only one capable of preforming magic. So that meant the act of warding fell entirely on him. Protecting all the houses in need of it in a single day just wasn't feasible. So they planned a routine. Which houses would be shielded which days. And how long Stiles would need to rest between castings.
Derek found himself slightly overwhelmed at it all. They were preparing for war. Not exactly the most stress free of situations. Granted, they had the sheriff on their side. And whatever resources he could spare would be vastly beneficial. Chris and Allison were on board with the idea of an alliance. However temporary. That gave them the edge of having an experienced hunter duo on their side. Derek was liking their odds more and more every second.
It was in the late hours of the night, after hours upon hours of coordinating that he felt the first dredges of sleep wash over him. He was tired. He was so tired that he felt it in his bones. Everyone else was the same. This kind of planning took more mental focus than any of them were used to. Most of the betas hadn't even bothered to go home. Instead choosing to pass out on whatever surface they could find. Stiles wasn't one of them.
Derek looked around for his boyfriend. Trying to find the young man. Surely he was asleep some manner of book, trying to learn more than he should be taking on. Knowing was always his specialty. There wasn't a field of study the young man couldn't break down. So long as he put his mind to it. But he was nowhere to be found.
Derek searched the entire house. Up and down. In every room that he knew Stiles could've been in. he was nowhere. He shook Scott awake, asking where the young man was. Apparently, he had gone home to gather some materials needed for the wards. And no one had though to tell Derek.
The young alpha took out his phone, dialing Stiles' number. It went to voicemail after the first ring. Which meant his phone was dead. Which meant they had no way of contacting him. Derek didn't wait to call the sheriff. He simply took off towards Stiles' house. Heart pounding in his chest. Something was wrong.
Stiles never forgot to charge his phone. Ever. Not since learning of werewolves. Not since starting a relationship with Derek. Especially not since learning Deucalion was making his move towards the pack. No, something else was going on. And when Derek got to Stiles' house, he knew what it was.
The driver's side door to the Jeep had been damn near ripped off its hinges. Dangling loosely but a single screw. There was the sharp scent of blood and pain lingering in the air. Stiles' blood. And underneath that was the pungent scent of foreign alpha. Deucalion to be precise. He had been here. And he had taken Stiles.
Derek didn't bother with a call. Or a text. He reared his head back and roared. He roared as loud as he could. Shaking the air with his anger. With his fury. With his sorrow. All of Beacon Hills could hear it. And when his pack answered his cry, he took off. The war had come. And Deucalion wouldn't be surviving it.