Stiles frantically dialed Lacey back for the fourth time, on the verge of another panic attack. The phone shook in his hand as he held it to his ear. Again, it went straight to voicemail and, again, Stiles felt like his world was caving in on him.
"Stiles," Scott's voice said, sounding far away. "Stiles, it's gonna be okay." He put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You can't give up hope. Maybe she's just…" He trailed off as a familiar scent and the sound of snarling met his ears.
Scott's face fell immediately. "Malia," he uttered, jumping to his feet and sprinting toward the source of the sound.
Stiles knew he had to pull himself together. There was too much happening, too many people were depending on him—he couldn't shut down now. Taking in a deep breath and clambering unsteadily to his feet, he followed after Scott, wondering what his best friend had heard.
He found him in the locker room, having chased off a very angry werecoyote. Stiles saw his backpack discarded on the floor, remembering only then that he had left it in the classroom unattended. He supposed the new girl, Kira, who was currently frozen in shock, had meant to bring it to him when Malia had attacked. He approached the bag and saw that there was a glass eye staring out at him—the doll he had found in Malia's den the day before.
He slowly pulled the doll from his bag, staring down at its vacant eyes. Somewhere inside of him, he knew Malia had been looking for it.
He told his dad as much when he arrived with animal control. The older man furrowed his brow and rubbed at his chin. "I think you two had better get to Deaton's," the Sheriff told them. "We need this animal caught and controlled, and I'm guessing he's fairly equipped to help you do that."
"You're right," Stiles said. "We should get going." He looked to Scott, who nodded.
"I'll tell Isaac to meet us at the Jeep," the alpha said, whipping out his phone.
Half an hour later, Stiles, Isaac, and Scott stood around the examination table with Deaton, staring down at the three vials of horse tranquilizer that Deaton had laid on the table.
"How are we supposed to find her, again?" Isaac wondered skeptically. "She could be anywhere…"
"Thanks for the constant stream of negativity," Stiles grumbled, shooting him a look. "The only thing more pointless than your input is that scarf around your neck. Jesus, man, it's like 65 degrees out."
Isaac seemed to ignore him completely. "And how do we turn a coyote into a girl when she hasn't been a girl for eight years?" he questioned more prudently, looking around the table.
This, Scott seemed to have an answer to. "Peter made me transform once against my will, using just his voice," Scott explained. "Deucalion did the same."
"Well, that's great," Isaac replied. "But do you know how to do that?"
Scott shook his head. "I tried calling Derek to see if he could teach me, but I haven't heard back."
"Derek isn't an alpha anymore, anyway," Stiles pointed out. "What we need is a real alpha."
"I might be able to help with that."
Stiles stiffened, unable to believe his ears. When he whirled around and saw Lacey in the doorway, he was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him, too. A thousand thoughts fought for dominance so aggressively that Stiles found it impossible to speak. He was frozen and utterly tongue-tied for a few elongated moments. Eventually, he uttered, "Can everyone else see her, too?"
"Um…yeah," Isaac answered, giving Stiles a strange look, obviously confused by the question.
"You're really here?" Stiles questioned, taking a tentative step in her direction. His head suddenly snapped down to look at his fingers, counting them. "One, two, three, four—"
"Five," Lacey completed the count. "I'm really here, Stiles," she assured him, watching him with an expression that hinted at the concern she felt for his current state. Then, she was hurrying forward and throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm really here."
Stiles' wrapped his arms around her and held onto her tightly, never wanting to let her go again. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar sting behind them. "Oh my God," he rasped, burying his face in her auburn hair. "I can't believe this. How…?"
"After your call this morning, I told them I had to leave," she explained, pulling back to look him in the face. "I-I should have been here this whole time, Stiles. You needed me and I…"
"You're here now," Stiles said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out a ran a thumb over her cheekbone. "That's all that matters."
"So, your call earlier…?" Scott had to ask.
"Horrible reception," Lacey replied. "I was just getting off the plane and I guess my network wasn't working right. And then I was kicking myself because I knew it would worry you."
"Me?" Stiles asked, giving her a mock incredulous look. "No."
Lacey laughed and moved forward to hug him again. Stiles squeezed her, lightheaded with relief.
"Not that this reunion isn't turning my stomach, but don't we have a werecoyote to catch?" Isaac asked expectantly.
Stiles released Lacey, mumbling something about a scarf.
"What can I do to help?" Lacey asked, looking between them all.
"I need to learn how to turn Malia back into…Malia," Scott explained.
Lacey looked lost. "You're gonna have to catch me up," Lacey told him. "I have no idea who Malia is. And what's a werecoyote?
After a quick recap of their current predicament left Lacey pacing around the room, face stern in concentration. "So you need to learn how to make her submit—to show yourself as her superior," Lacey muttered.
Scott nodded. "Yeah, something like that. Then, hopefully I'll be able to force her into changing back."
"Do you have any experience in this?" Isaac wondered, giving Lacey a skeptical look. "I mean, the last time you were really a werewolf was when you were seven. I doubt you were asserting dominance over anyone."
"You'd be surprised," Deaton said sagely. "Though the play of children may seem carefree and unbound by rules, there is a certain hierarchy in place on any playground."
"I ran around with some of the other kids in my parents' pack," Lacey informed them. "One specifically—Grant. He was my best friend." Her chest clenched ever so slightly when she said his name, having lost him when she lost her parents.
She swallowed and continued on. "He was a year older than me, but…it was pretty clear that I called the shots. Every so often, he would get into scuffles with some of the older boys. I could…" Her eyes gazed off somewhere else entirely, remembering. "I could make him stand down, if I wanted to. A look in the eyes, a growl, sometimes a roar would be enough to return him to his human form. He hated when I did it—embarrassed him beyond belief— but I just didn't want him getting hurt."
"So, that's it then," Stiles said, clapping his hands once and looking to Scott. "Flash the alpha eyes at her, give her a growl, and we're home free."
"You're forgetting that I haven't been able to keep control of myself lately," Scott reminded him glumly. "What if I change and…something happens? What if I hurt someone?"
"Scott, you won't," Stiles assured him, giving him a confident look. "I know you. You can do this."
"It could be that harnessing your power, controlling it, could be the key to stopping these random outbursts," Deaton suggested. "Purely conjecture, of course."
"Scott, you can do it," Lacey encouraged, her eyes meeting his. "I'll be right there beside you to coach you through it."
"Can't you just do it?" Scott pleaded, feeling apprehensive.
Lacey shook her head, giving him an understanding smile. "It sounds like this is something you have to do," she responded.
"And something you will do," Stiles added. "Otherwise, my dad is gonna have to put Malia down."
"No pressure," Scott joked humorlessly.
"We should get going," Isaac prompted, taking the vials from the exam table.
Deaton saw them out the back door. "Good luck to you all," he offered with a wave. "Let me know how it goes. And Lacey, I assume you'll be back for your regular shift tomorrow?"
Lacey turned to look at him over her shoulder, nodding with a smile. "You know it," she replied.
"Good," Deaton responded. "I'm eager to hear about your time in Ireland."
"Aren't we all?" Stiles questioned, taking one of the hands that fit so perfectly in his.
Lacey grinned over at him, leaning over to give him a quick peck.
"Seriously, once this werecoyote is caught and things go back to normal, I'm taking you out again. I wanna hear all about these druid dudes," Stiles told her.
"It's a date," Lacey said in response, swinging their hands back and forth ever so slightly.
Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and Lacey all drove quickly to the Preserve, the sky darkening around them.
"We need to get this done soon," Stiles commented as he drove. "I'm really not into the idea of running around the Preserve at nighttime."
"Like we haven't done that before," Scott replied, with a small snort.
"Yeah, and have I like it any of those times?" Stiles demanded.
"Are Lydia and Allison meeting us?" Lacey asked.
"Yeah," Isaac answered, which Lacey thought was somewhat strange. "Allison texted me. She and Lydia are already waiting at the entrance."
Lacey nodded, sitting back in her seat and observing the body language between Scott and Isaac. It seemed that she had missed more than she had thought during her time away.
When they arrived at the Preserve, Allison and Lydia were already out of their cars, looking ready to go. As soon as the two of them caught sight of Lacey climbing out of the back seat of the Jeep, they swarmed her.
"When did you get back?" Allison asked.
"Why the hell didn't we know about it?" Lydia demanded.
"I got back about twenty minutes ago," Lacey answered, slightly stunned by the bombardment. "It was sort of a surprise to everyone."
"You couldn't have come back at a better time," Allison told her, her voice sounding relieved. "We need someone with a solid head on her shoulders."
"Isaac and I have been trying to hold it down, but…" Lydia and the werewolf exchanged a look, as if to say it hadn't been going so well.
"Well, I'm here now," Lacey assured them. "And I'm here to stay. Nothing is going to keep me from you guys ever again." She gazed at everyone around her—her pack. "Now, let's go catch a werecoyote."
As soon as the words had left her mouth, a gunshot tore through the air, making them all jump. The three werewolves held their hands over their sensitive ears.
"What the hell was that?" Stiles demanded, looking around wildly.
"I think Mr. Tate beat us here," Scott said, his voice full of dread. "We have to go—now."
The six of them took off into the Preserve. "We'll handle Tate," Isaac assured Scott mid-run. "You and Lacey just focus on finding Malia."
Scott nodded curtly, checking for Lacey at his shoulder before increasing his speed, leaving the others behind. The two alphas raced their way through the Preserve at incredible speed, dodging roots and trunks as they went. "Do you have her scent?" Lacey asked after a while, hardly out of breath.
Scott nodded. "We're on her trail now, I'm sure of it."
Lacey had no idea what the coyote smelled like, so she had to trust that Scott knew what he was doing. After a while, her faith in him paid off as she spotted a pair of glowing eyes in the distance. "There she is," she alerted him, in case her vision was more acute than his. They both pulled up at once, worried they might scare her off if they approached at speed.
Suddenly, a loud roar shook the trees around them. Lacey and Scott both fell to the ground with their arms over their heads. The werecoyote took the opportunity to split.
When she was finally able to lift her head, Lacey gave Scott a curious look. "Was that…?"
"Isaac," Scott confirmed. "He sounds like he's in pain." He glanced indecisively over his shoulder.
"Scott, the others are with him," Lacey reassured him. "We have to go before we lose her trail."
"Right…" Scott said, still seeming reluctant.
"You're the only one who can do this, Scott," Lacey told him. "You're the only one who can save her."
This seemed to light a fire under Scott and he took off once again, following Malia's scent. They ended up at the edge of a ravine. Lacey looked down and saw the wreckage of a car at the bottom.
"The site of the accident," she guessed in a hushed tone, to which Scott nodded in confirmation. When Lacey looked over at him, she noticed his eyes were glowing red.
Scott seemed to notice in the same moment and blinked, trying desperately to make them stop.
"Scott," Lacey said firmly, gripping his forearm with a hand. "Let it happen. You can control it, I know you can."
Scott seemed about ready to protest, until a low growl rumbled out from the ravine. He returned the growl, feeling his fangs elongating as he did so. The werecoyote emerged from behind the wreckage, the hair on her back standing up, snarling viciously. Now fully wolfed out, Scott leapt down into the ravine, facing off with her. The werecoyote made a lunge at him, growling more threateningly. Scott looked as though he would cower away from her, but, instead puffed out his chest and planted his feet.
As Lacey looked on with bated breath, Scott unleashed a head-splitting roar into the coyote's face. Lacey screwed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears. When she was able to open her eyes, she found that they were glowing silver, Scott's roar having tapped into her own werewolf instincts. She also noticed that it was no longer an animal that crouched in front of Scott, but a human girl.
Lacey scrambled down into the ravine to stand beside Scott, hastily taking her jacket off to hand to Malia, who was stark naked. "Here," she offered carefully. "You might need this."
The girl looked up into her face, the blue glow of her eyes the only evidence that she had once been a coyote. She reached up and grabbed the jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders haphazardly.
Hours later, Stiles lay dozing on his bed, waiting for Lacey to arrive. She had insisted on going home immediately after they left the Preserve so she could talk to Celeste, but she had promised to visit him later.
Stiles had begun to worry that Celeste had locked Lacey in her room when he heard the window creak open. Lacey slid down onto the carpet of Stiles' room, kicking her shoes off immediately and flopping down next to him on the bed.
The two of them lay on their backs beside each other for a few minutes, their hands finding each other and intertwining on the bed between them.
Eventually, Lacey turned her head to gaze over at Stiles, her brown eyes resting on his. "So…are we going to talk about the 'love you' now or later?" A smile hid in the corner of her mouth.
Stiles put his free arm over his face, groaning and laughing simultaneously. "I think you were gone so long that I forgot how absolutely savage you can be," he chuckled. He rolled onto his side to face her, propping himself up on his elbow. "We can talk about it now, I guess."
Lacey grinned over at him, moving to mimic his body position. "What's there to talk about, really?" she asked, shrugging a shoulder. "These things happen. I know you didn't mean it—and it's okay if it was a mistake." She reached over and ran a hand along his jawline. "Besides, if we spend all night talking, there will be no time for this." She scooted closer and brought her lips to his, sighing contently out of her nose.
Stiles wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, wanting her as close as possible. She responded by draping a leg over the top of him, only intensifying their proximity. They stayed like that for a while, tangled up in each other.
Lacey removed her lips from his, her breath hot against his face. "Where's your dad?" she questioned.
"He's…he's at the station," Stiles answered, his stomach fluttering at the very question. "He got his job back, so he'll be working all night to reorganize his office, probably."
"Good," Lacey responded. She sat up and pulled her shirt over her head, so she was in just her bra. "Because I promised you a closer look." She nudged him over to his back and moved on top of him, straddling his legs. Stiles watched in rapt amazement as she reached down for his hands, pulling them up and placing them on her chest.
"It's…uh…nice," he told her breathlessly, unable to take his eyes from the black lace beneath his fingertips.
Lacey giggled and bent forward to kiss him. Stiles kept one hand on her chest and reached up to put the other on the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. He twisted his head to deepen the kiss, unsure if he had ever felt anything quite so exhilarating.
Pulling away from her suddenly, he glanced down at his own shirt. "Wanna help me with mine?"
Lacey smiled delightedly and reached down to take the hemline of his shirt with her fingertips. She inched it up slowly, realizing she had been too distracted the last time to take in the sight of his torso. Stiles helpfully raised his arms over his head and Lacey was able to shimmy his shirt completely off. The two of them sat there for a moment, openly staring at each other, drinking in the other's half-naked appearance.
Then, Lacey suddenly climbed off the bed, propelled by the feelings Stiles was giving her. Standing there in front of him, she began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. She let them drop to the floor before kicking them off completely. Then she simply stood in the center of his room, wearing nothing but her underwear. She looked to him for the next move. Stiles was frozen for a moment, staring at her. Then, in a flourish of movement, he was taking off his own pants, hands fumbling with the buttons and zippers in their haste.
As soon as his jeans were discarded on the floor, Lacey was on top of him, kissing him feverishly. Stiles' hands were tentative at first, unused to the feeling of so much skin beneath them. However, as they became more familiar with the sensation, there wasn't a part of her he didn't touch. Lacey, meanwhile, had moved on and begun to kiss Stiles' neck, remembering how it had felt for her when he had done the same.
It was as if another part of her had taken over completely, similar to the part of her that was more wolf than human. Her brain was hardly operating, overrun by her desire for the young man who lay beneath her. She was certain of one thing and one thing only in that moment—she wanted Stiles more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
As the thought possessed her, she took her lips away from his neck and sat up so she could look him in the eye. "Do you have protection?" she questioned, suddenly feeling very human. Heat rose in her cheeks.
Stiles gazed up at her, slightly out of breath. "I do," he answered, knowing there was a newly purchased box waiting in his nightstand. "But only if you think you're ready."
"I mean…are you ready?" Lacey questioned, her stomach and heart fluttering like the wings of a thousand butterflies. Her eyes were big as saucers as she looked down at him.
"I asked you first," Stiles replied with a goofy grin.
Lacey nodded, letting out a small chuckle just to relieve some tension. "I'm ready, Stiles. This—you…it's the only thing I want right now. I've never been more sure of anything."
Stiles swallowed and reached up a hand, tenderly touching her face. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and rose off the bed to kiss her. Lacey carefully swung her leg off of him and let him guide her onto her back, so he lay on top of her. His lips were softer on hers than before, all gentle passion. Lacey ran her fingers through the back of his hair, her other hand gently gripping his bicep, a lustful sigh rushing out of her.
This was it. Though, her heart thudded in her chest like a sledgehammer and she felt nervous jitters encompassing her entire body, Lacey thought that ready was an understatement for what she was. As Stiles jutted out a hand and began rummaging through his nightstand, she felt herself coming alive in a new way, an exciting way—and she liked it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Woot woot! Stacey getting hot and heavy (finally). Leave a review and let me know what you think of the chapter! Thanks. xx