~Hear Me Cry~
By: Aerys Krystie.
Lust
Jackson snatched the book from Peter's hand, reading the title. Wendigo, he thought. He leaned over the table and grabbed the box he had sorted earlier into Native American folklore. Behind him, he heard Derek growl and glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
Derek shook his head and Jackson shrugged, searching through the box. He'd found a book that was dedicated almost solely to the wendigo. He knew enough about it to know it was from Native American stories. His heart gave a triumphant thump as he grabbed the book and showed it to Derek and Peter, grinning.
"Damn, pup," Peter said as he took the book. "You're not—"
Jackson missed the rest of Peter's words as blood pounded in his ears and he heard screams of terror. The wendigo was dragging the corpse past them, showing them what was going to happen to them. The man wasn't healthy enough or young enough for the wendigo. The meat would foul too soon for its liking.
Hey, hey. Jackson lowered the hands he had placed over his ears and found Derek watching him. He shivered and rested his head on Derek's chest as he was held, listening to his steady heart. He could hear Peter flipping through the pages of the book, while Stiles returned from telling his father about the likelihood of a corpse being dumped somewhere in town.
Jackson let Derek pull him out of the room and up the stairs. They entered the loft and the pack was instantly on their feet, staring at him. "There's another victim," he said and Erica growled. "We know what it is, at least."
"What?" Isaac asked, his eyes filled with worry.
"A wendigo," Jackson answered and slumped onto the sofa. He tilted his head back.
"A what?" Isaac's face screwed up in confusion.
"This one's yours, Derek. I'm just gonna go lay down and die somewhere." Jackson stood and shuffled into the bedroom, falling face first onto the bed.
"It's from Native American folklore," Derek said as he sat at the table, after moving it so he could look straight into the bedroom. "It's a story about someone that feasts on human flesh. They usually sleep for long periods of time, waking to eat and hunt."
"How the hell did it end up here?" Boyd asked.
"It's probably always been here," Jackson muttered and turned his head. "Beacon Hills was likely a settlement at some stage. The wendigo was probably a prospector that had to survive a harsh winter."
"Sounds like you feel sorry for it," Derek said, looking at Jackson's prone body.
"It's a survivor. Its had to fight just to live. How could I not relate to it?"
"I thought you were meant to be dying in there?" Boyd asked and Jackson sat up when Derek roared at him.
"It was a joke," Jackson said. He sighed and got off the bed, going up to the table. "Isaac, Erica, you're on patrol tonight. It's dumping the body as we talk. If you see it, do not engage. We don't know if it fancies werewolf flesh and we don't want to find out, either. Follow at a safe distance, just to see if there's another entrance to the cave its using."
Erica and Isaac glanced at each other and then at their alpha. Derek nodded stiffly, still glaring at Boyd. They stood up, Erica kissing Boyd gently, offering some comfort from the alpha's wrath.
"Boyd, I think you've got homework to finish, right?" Jackson asked and Boyd nodded, head down. "Go finish it."
Without a glance at the alpha, Boyd stood and moved down the hallway. Once alone, Jackson snapped his fingers in Derek's face. Derek blinked and the red eyes disappeared, looking at Jackson. He sat there, staring at him for a long while and Jackson sighed.
"Stop terrifying them," Jackson said simply. "It isn't fair on them."
Derek stood up and pressed his lips to Jackson's. "I'm sorry," he murmured, peppering kisses along Jackson's jaw and down his throat.
"I know. But you need to calm down. To them, I'm still a beta. They're going to rib me and say things like that." Jackson licked his lower lip, getting that taste again. It had to be Derek's lips. "I'm going to bed. Help Peter find a way to kill it."
Derek placed a final kiss on Jackson's throat, inhaling deeply. "Okay," he whispered.
Jackson waited until Derek was out of the loft, before he shuddered and leaned on the table for support. That felt much better than he thought it would. Once his heart calmed down, he went to Boyd's door and was granted entry before he could knock.
"Are you okay?" Jackson asked, looking at the large bed and seeing that it was unmade.
"Yeah," Boyd answered. "I guess it's gonna take some getting used to…you giving orders, that is."
"He was one breath from killing you." Jackson placed a hand on Boyd's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He glanced at the homework. "The answer is eight, not twenty-four," he said and left the room.
Once in Derek's bedroom, Jackson stripped and pulled on some pajama bottoms. He got under the covers, gazing at the moon that was visible from Derek's window. The full moon was getting closer.
Low murmuring made Jackson open his eyes. He heard Peter and Derek in the kitchen. Boyd was asleep and the alpha and his uncle were having a conversation. Jackson closed his eyes again. There was no reason to react and there was no threat around.
"I told you not to touch him," Peter said and Jackson frowned, opening his eyes.
"He was in pain," Derek hissed and Jackson knew he had a scowl on his face. "What was I supposed to do? Let my mate suffer?"
"Yes!" Peter growled and Jackson felt him look at the bedroom. "I like him, as well. He's definitely gotten better with handling everything. He knew how to handle your betas tonight, while you tried to will one dead."
Derek was on edge. Jackson could feel it, but he didn't recognize what emotion it was from. There was a need to do something, but he didn't know what.
"Could you have left your mate in pain?" Derek asked quietly and Jackson heard what sounded like the back of a chair straining under a grip.
"Touching him intimately will take away his pain, but it'll increase your need for him," Peter said softly and Jackson was certain he heard a touch of compassion in his voice.
"The need was always there." Derek let out a low growl and Jackson felt something wash over him. He recognized it as one of the three things Derek sent out before.
"The need will always be there."
Jackson frowned as he felt eyes on him, but it wasn't the usual curious or worry behind them. There was something almost…hungry about them. He fought to ignore a need that sped through his veins, as he was meant to be asleep.
"Jesus, Derek. Have a cold shower."
Jackson closed his eyes as Derek approached the room. A lamp was turned on and Jackson turned his head, looking at Derek. "Everything okay?"
Derek nodded stiffly and pulled off his shirt. "Yeah, fine," he growled and went into the bathroom, slamming the door.
Boyd half-woke at the sudden loud noise and Jackson glared at the door, getting out of bed. He went into the bathroom and turned Derek around. "Don't wake the betas," he snapped quietly. "He has school in the morning."
Jackson frowned as Derek took hold of him and he didn't feel warmth. He felt heat, a burning desire and his heartrate increased as he looked into Derek's eyes. He pulled away, heart pounding as he tried to understand what Derek was going through. He didn't know how to help him.
The heat was still swirling through his veins, pooling between his legs. The need to kiss Derek refused to leave his mind. He didn't retreat as Derek approached him, eyes switching between alpha and human constantly, as though he had an internal battle happening. Jackson's body ached for his touch.
The bathroom door opened and Peter grabbed Jackson, pulling him out of the room. "You're sleeping in Isaac's room," he said and Jackson just nodded numbly.
"What was that?"
"His need to claim you," Peter said as he shoved Jackson into Isaac's room. "I'll be standing guard."
The door closed and Jackson let himself shiver and shudder, trying to push out the last, lingering heat in his body. His mind conjured images that he remembered, but there was a twist on them that made him shiver with delight. Derek cornering him in the locker room when he was still human. Derek scenting him had him particularly excited that his skin reacted.
Jackson pressed his back to the door and slid down, heart still racing in his chest. He inhaled deeply, catching Isaac's scent and he calmed. The heat, need and desire finally left him and his body stopped trembling at the mere idea of Derek.
"Would mating get this over with?" Jackson asked, knowing Peter was on the other side.
"You can't just fuck him, pup," Peter answered. "The mating takes time. It's about learning your mate, knowing every inch of their body, every shift in their scent, how your scent mixes with theirs." He sighed quietly. "I've known it to take days for it to complete."
They didn't have days. Jackson needed to get a suit from home in the morning, so he could attend the dead girl's funeral. Then they had to kill the wendigo, before Jackson felt any more victims being tortured and killed. He flinched and closed his eyes, covering his head with his arms. He couldn't go through that again. He wouldn't go through that again.
"I'm not staying in here all night," Jackson said and stood. He wasn't going to wallow in self-pity when he could be reading up on wendigos and how to kill them. "We're doing research."
"No," Peter said and Jackson was certain his jaw was clenched, just like Derek's when he was saying something he didn't agree with. "I can't leave and you can't leave the loft."
"Why can't I—?"
"Because Derek's need to claim you has gotten worse. If I take you out of the loft, he'll think I'm stealing you, kill me and then rape you. I'd rather not die again or have him do something he'll regret for the rest of his life."
Jackson growled. "Can you call Isaac then, so I can get the password for his laptop?"
"It's 'Allison,'" Peter said.
Jackson stared at the door. "Tell me you're joking," he said and tilted his head back.
"Nope. The kid is completely in love with her."
Jackson shook his head and powered up the laptop. It was going to be a long night, but he still wasn't feeling the effects of not sleeping. He discovered it was nice to sleep, but it wasn't a necessity for him, for the moment.
The morning came and Derek left the loft as Erica and Isaac were returning. They tried to greet their alpha, but were completely ignored. Peter explained, as best as he could, keeping in mind that they were still only seventeen. Erica got it first and scoffed, brewing the coffee as that was Boyd's alarm clock.
Isaac entered his room and found Jackson sitting at his desk, a notebook beside him with pages filled with notes. They glanced at each other and nodded, while Isaac got clean clothes and went into the bathroom. Jackson wrote down the last piece of information, powering down the laptop and leaving the room.
Erica was raiding the fridge and Jackson gave her a gentle nudge. He would happily cook her bacon for her, but he preferred when no one else was in the small area. He had a system when it came to feeding Derek's pack. Erica was always the first to eat, if Derek wasn't around. If the alpha was there, she would wait until he's taken his first bite and then dig in, which meant her food needed to be up quickly. Isaac and Boyd ate at the same time. Peter didn't give a damn, unless Derek was eating with them.
Jackson knew it was the pack dynamic at work, but it still left him curious. He cooked the bacon and eggs for Erica and got the box of Lucky Charms for Isaac, along with a bowl, milk and a glass of orange juice. Just as the coffee finished brewing, Boyd crawled out, his bathroom routine done, but still dead on his feet until the taste of coffee touched his tongue.
"Did you see the wendigo?" Jackson asked and Erica shook her head.
"We found the body, though. Oh, it was horrid." She shuddered. "We couldn't trace it, either. It's almost like it cleaned up all the blood left behind."
"Don't worry about it," Jackson said and smiled at her. She glared at the table. "Hey, we know where it is."
"Yeah and you had to be tortured to find that out." Erica sighed and sat back.
"Kissing Derek wasn't that bad," Jackson said, plating up the eggs and bacon and putting it in front of Erica. She stared at him. "What?"
"You and Derek finally kissed, huh?" She smirked, salting her eggs. She froze and looked at Jackson sharply. "Wait. You kissed Derek and figured out where the victims were being held?"
Jackson shrugged, stacking the pan beside the sink. "It cleared my mind."
Boyd had joined Erica in staring at Jackson. "You kissed Derek…and were thinking about a murder victim?" he asked slowly.
Jackson frowned. "Derek said the same thing."
Boyd shook his head. "That must've been a blow to his ego. His mate wasn't even thinking of him during their first kiss."
"I know it was wrong, but…" Jackson winced as his stomach cramped and held onto the table. Blood dripped from his mouth. "Shit," he groaned.
"Jackson," Erica said, on her feet and standing beside him. She glanced at Boyd and he shook his head.
"I'm fine," Jackson told them and straightened, slumping against the counter. He looked at his abdomen, seeing the bruise was back and it was practically black.
Peter came in from the bathroom and stared at Jackson. "Fuck." His eyes dropped to the torso, the bruise spreading up to Jackson's chest. "Fuck!"
Isaac came in and froze, staring at Jackson as well. "Jesus fuck!"
Peter ran to Derek's bedroom and grabbed a shirt, shoving it over Jackson's head. "Get him out of here – now!" he ordered and began wiping up Jackson's blood. "Get him to Scott." He scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to Erica. "Give that to him and then get back here."
"Shouldn't we get Derek?" Isaac asked as Peter wiped Jackson's mouth.
"No. He can't know about this."
"Sage…" Jackson groaned. "Fire."
Peter nodded. "Got it."
"I think he needs Derek," Boyd said as Jackson paled.
"He does need Derek," Peter said, pushing Jackson into Erica's arms. "But they can't. Not now." Boyd looked like he was about to argue. "We need to kill the wendigo before it takes another victim. If Jackson goes through that again, we might not get him back."
After that, it was a flurry of movement, the seriousness of the words dawning on Derek's betas. Jackson groaned as he was pulled from the loft, down the stairs and into the Camaro. Erica started the engine and tore away, almost crashing as the smell of Jackson's blood hit her. She used his shirt to clean it up, not wanting Derek to get into his car and think she had hurt his mate.
Swerving back to her side of the road, Erica tried to remain calm. Her mind was focused on the bruise on Jackson's torso that was spreading from the front to the back. She tried to remind herself that she wasn't responsible for that, but the punch from the day before kept pushing forward in her mind. While she wasn't overly fond of Jackson, he didn't deserve to go through whatever that was.
Jackson's breathing was labored as he looked at her with glassy eyes. "You didn't do this," he said in bursts, teeth clenched, trying to fight off the pain. "Just…" He trailed off and groaned, trying to curl up in the seat. "Watch his back…tonight."
"We will," Erica promised, turning up Scott's street and slamming the brakes on in front of the house.
Scott, having heard the speeding car turn up his street, had stepped out to see what was going on. He frowned as Erica pulled Jackson from the passenger side and shoved a piece of paper into his chest, moving past him and into the house. Hide him from Derek today. We'll kill it and you can return him. That raised more questions than it could possibly answer, but Scott turned and went inside, closing the door.
Erica was on the stairs, trying to be as gentle as possible with Jackson. Scott remembered the last time he saw Jackson that pale. Jackson had killed himself. He could hear a faint heartbeat from the non-existent, but nonetheless, he helped Erica carry him up the stairs and lay him on the bed. Jackson groaned and rolled over, curling into himself.
"What the hell happened?" Scott asked and Erica lowered her eyes. "The last time I saw him, he couldn't feel pain. Now, he's curling up like a child with an upset stomach. And why am I hiding him from Derek? I think he needs Derek more—"
"Stiles told you about the wendigo, right?" Erica snapped and glared at Scott. He nodded. "Do you know how we found out about it? Jackson. He felt the wendigo ripping that girl apart. If that happens again, he might not survive it. We aren't taking that chance."
Scott frowned and looked down at Jackson. He thought they had researched it, after hearing about the body being found. "And the pain?"
"That's none of your business," Erica growled, her eyes flashing gold.
Jackson sat up, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right. I'm safe now. You can…"
Erica eased Jackson back to the bed and glared at Scott when he stared at her. "What?" she snapped. "He's my alpha's mate."
Scott's eyes dropped to Jackson. "There's more that you're not telling me."
Erica glared and tapped her foot, arms crossed over her chest. She glanced at Jackson and he curled into himself more. "I don't hate him, okay? And…I…think he'll make a decent second-in-command," she finally forced out, almost choking on the words. "He…He was commanding last night. I actually wanted to obey his orders without getting confirmation from Derek."
"You think it's from the alpha he killed?"
Erica shook her head. "No. I think he was picking up the slack Derek left. It was…" She trailed off and frowned. "It was like they were in sync." She shook her head and sighed. "But we have to kill the wendigo, before it kills someone else."
Scott nodded and grabbed his phone. "Stiles can watch Jackson, while we hunt it. Stone Eagle cave, right?" Erica nodded. "I used to walk through those caves a few years ago. Never noticed anything weird with it."
Jackson groaned. "It probably…came here…searching…" he mumbled and forced his eyes open.
"Scott," Melissa said as she knocked and entered. She froze when she saw Erica and her eyes widened when she saw Jackson. She rushed forward, placing a hand to his forehead. "He has a fever. Dilated pupils and a racing, weak pulse. What the hell is going on with him? Four months ago, he was the walking dead."
"He's learning to feel again. With that, he learns how to feel pain." Erica placed a hand on Melissa's shoulder. "There's nothing we can do for him, right now. He needs his mate." Melissa frowned and Erica pursed her lips. "But," she added gruffly. "We need to kill a wendigo."
"Stiles will be here in about fifteen minutes," Scott said and locked his phone. "Mom, can you watch him?"
"Of course." Melissa stood and hugged Scott tightly. "You come home, you hear. You walk through that front door."
"I will, Mom. You think you could lose me that easily?" Scott grinned, hugging his mother as tightly as she was he. He glanced down and saw Jackson watching them, a small, genuine smile on his pained face. "We'll fix you, too."
The smile was gone and a glare settled on Jackson's face. "I'm not broken," he snapped, before wincing and curling into himself more.
Melissa released her son, ushering them out the door. She turned to Jackson and knelt beside the bed, stroking his hair. "Of course you aren't, Jackson," she murmured soothingly.
Jackson wanted to call her out on the lie he blatantly heard in her words, but the motherly touches were nice. He couldn't remember the last time his own mother petted his hair when he was hurt. Sifting through the memories, Jackson realized he was seven the last time it happened. After that, he swore he would never show how hurt he was. His mother had wept when he broke his arm. His father held him tightly when telling him that he was adopted. But he had taken it all and tried to hide it.
I really was a non-existent from the start, Jackson told himself and that hurt. That hurt more than he thought it would. He closed his eyes, wanting to sleep through the pain and ignore the fact that there were always signs to him being strange.
Jackson opened his eyes to find Deaton over him. The vet smiled and took the thermometer from his mouth, checking the number, before he nodded and stood. Behind him, Stiles was hopping anxiously from foot to foot, while Melissa tried to keep him calm. Looking over his shoulder, he found that it was sunset.
"They aren't back, are they?" Jackson asked and turned his eyes to the faces in front of him. They were trying so hard not to look worried that Jackson felt sorry for them.
"No, but they're getting closer," Stiles answered and stood by the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I was kicked in the gut by a thoroughbred hopped up on oats, having swallowed at least forty razorblades." Stiles winced and Jackson smiled. He lost it and stared at Deaton. "What's wrong with me?"
Deaton sighed softly. "Honestly, Jackson, where do I start? You being a non-existent, for one. You being a non-existent that's mated to a werewolf, for another. Becoming the kanima didn't help, either. There's so much going on with your body and mind right now, that your wolf is trying to sort it all out. And for it to do that, you need to mate with Derek."
Melissa's eyes widened and she opened her mouth. "Don't bring up the age thing, Missus McCall," Jackson said as he struggled to sit up. He gave up after his second attempt and just stared at her. "I'm consenting to it. I need him."
Pursing her lips, Melissa inhaled deeply. "You're seventeen, Jackson. You can't possibly know—"
"Why is it that adults always bring up that whenever a child does something they don't want them to? If I told you that I wanted to be a doctor, you'd sing my praises. But telling you I want to be with a man that's what, ten, possibly fifteen years older than me, suddenly has you telling me I don't know what I want?"
Stiles cleared his throat. "He's only about six years older than us," he said and stepped away when Jackson and Melissa glared at him. "I'm just saying. It isn't that much of an age gap."
"He's over twenty-one, while Jackson can't even vote yet," Melissa said firmly, keeping her eyes on Stiles.
"How sweet," Jackson muttered. "I can die for my country at sixteen, but I can't be with the man I want at seventeen?"
"You need to think about Derek, as well. If anyone finds out that he's with you, sexually, he can be arrested and put away for statutory rape," Melissa explained gently.
Deaton cleared his throat quietly. "He's got less than a week left. If Derek doesn't claim him, he becomes a full non-existent, which means he leaves and kills anyone in his path to finding his place. His wolf has given him a place, for the moment, but without them claiming the other as their mate, the wolf is dying. It should have happened within the first week of Jackson waking up as a werewolf. But the self-doubt won out and turned him into what he was born as – a non-existent."
Melissa stared at Deaton, eyes searching for something. "Oh my god," she whispered and sat on the bed. Jackson winced as the motion sent pain ratcheting over his body. "Oh, god, Jackson! I'm so sorry." She sat up suddenly and Jackson just let the tears fall from his eyes.
"It's fine…I'm good," Jackson strained out. He looked at Deaton. "Take some of my blood."
Deaton frowned. "Why?"
"The pack…wen…digo…"
Stiles nodded, somehow understanding Jackson in his pain, but never when he spoke clearly. "In case the wendigo can harm a werewolf," he translated and Jackson closed his eyes.
"All right," Deaton said and opened his bag. He put together a needle and slipped it into Jackson's vein, drawing out the blood. "I hope it isn't needed, but that's good of you to consider it."
There's conversations about nothing happening around and Jackson opens his eyes. Stiles was explaining what a non-existent was to Melissa, who was listening carefully. She asked questions now and again, but mostly just let Stiles rant. There was a footfall outside the window and a pair of red eyes was the first thing Stiles and Melissa saw. The first thing Jackson smelled was smoke and sage. Underneath that, he could smell Derek.
Stiles shifted in the chair and glanced at Jackson on the bed. "There wasn't anything we could do for him, except keep him comfortable. I mean, as much as possible in his condition."
Jackson hissed as he was forced onto his back and glared into the red eyes of the alpha. The eyes dropped to his torso and the shirt was raised. A growl sounded. Before Jackson could say anything, Derek's lips were pressing against his. Unlike the last time, he felt something thrill through him and he pushed into Derek's mouth. The pain vanished and he could enjoy the feel and taste of the alpha he was mated to.
Melissa cleared her throat and Derek glared over his shoulder. "Don't," Jackson whispered and felt the wolf in Derek retreat. Sitting up, Jackson stretched his arms above his head and groaned. "The wendigo?"
"A pile of ash."
"The other hostages?"
"Returned to the sheriff. I would've been here sooner, but I had to give a statement." Derek ran his thumb along Jackson's cheekbone. "I'm sorry I left you in pain."
Jackson smiled and shook his head. "Don't be. Saving the potential victims was more important."
Derek wrapped his arms around Jackson, holding him tightly. Jackson's eyes found Melissa and found how she was staring at them. He had no doubt she had heard the utter regret in Derek's voice at leaving Jackson alone for a period of time, while in pain. Instead of telling her anything, Jackson just buried his face into Derek's neck and inhaled deeply.
Scott was the next one through the window and glanced at the pair hugging on his bed. "Please, please tell me they've only been hugging," he said to his mother and Stiles.
"I think they kissed before," Stiles said with a shrug. "Anyway, I think I should head off. So, the wendigo is definitely dead?"
"Unless it's a non-existent, it isn't coming back from those flames. Damn, they were bright." Scott grinned.
Jackson pulled back from Derek, slipping off the bed. "Thank you for taking me in, Scott," he said and slapped his shoulder. Jackson frowned as jealousy washed over him and found Derek glaring at Scott. "We're going back to the loft."
Derek's eyes flitted to Jackson for a moment and Jackson hardened his eyes. Derek nodded and stood up. He mumbled a thanks to Scott and slipped out the window. "You know, our front door is perfectly functional," Melissa called out to Derek.
Jackson smiled and left the bedroom, waiting in the hallway. "I'll test this functional door, if you don't mind, Missus McCall."
Stiles chuckled and joined Jackson in the hallway, both calling their farewells as they went downstairs. Jackson opened the door and let Stiles through first. Derek was resting against his car, watching the door. His eyes flashed red for a moment, before he looked away and Jackson frowned. He wasn't expecting that reaction.
"Thanks for watching over me," Jackson said to Stiles as he walked the human to his jeep. "I get the feeling you would've preferred being in the cave with the others."
Stiles grinned and went to hug Jackson, but froze as Jackson growled at him. Rubbing his neck, Jackson glared over his shoulder. He pulled Stiles in for a hug, turning them around so he could glare at Derek the entire time. Derek turned his eyes to the asphalt and Jackson released Stiles, thanking him again.
"Get in," Derek said as Jackson stopped beside him.
"No, we need to talk." Jackson stared at Derek. "You knew, didn't you? You knew I had to be claimed and soon."
"Yeah," Derek breathed and tilted his head back.
Jackson stared at his throat, the urge to scent the alpha washing over him. Derek frowned and lowered his head. Jackson looked away from Derek's curious eyes, glaring at the ground. A couple of kisses and he was practically drooling at the idea of scenting Derek, of having Derek's scent in his nose and on his tongue.
"Don't fight it," Derek said. "I need my beta by my side. I need my mate."
"I would prefer to do this without an audience," Jackson said and gestured around. Scott and Melissa were at the window, watching them. Stiles still hadn't put the key in the ignition. "I want to scent you slowly. I want to know every inch of your body." A tingle ran down his spine and it wasn't from Derek.
"No," Derek said after a short silence.
Jackson forced back a flinch, but nodded. "If the alpha has no objections, I'll walk back to the loft."
"Your alpha has an objection. I said no, because I can't be in the car with you. Stilinski can take you home."
Jackson went to Stiles' jeep and climbed in, grateful they had an audience. His hands shook as he tried to buckle the seatbelt, something crashing over him. It got to the point that Stiles just stared at him, starting the vehicle. His heart was pounding in his chest and all he wanted was to run back to the loft and pin Derek to a wall, smelling and tasting him.
"I think someone just learned lust," Stiles said with a grin and followed Derek back to the loft.
End Chapter.
Thanks for reading.