Ageless as the sun, the long forgotten one
Gold in your eyes dancing like fire
Dreamer trapped by your desire
Turns you into stone, the light you stole
River turns to dust, miles on the run
Everywhere you go, can't find no home
All the world you roam turns you into stone
Long before the haze
Darker shadows reigned

Turns You Into Stone – Fleurie


It was so strange to run with Stiles at the same speed. Every few steps he'd give a giddy kind of chuckle, feeling a rush from the run that he'd never before experienced.

"I bet I can go faster," he said, voice raised over the wind, not realising I would have heard a whisper.

"You've been undead for all of five minutes, and you're already challenging me to a race?" I laughed, easily spinning out of the way of a tree and shooting him a wide, teasing grin.

"Eat my dust, Jules!" he shouted brightly, leaning forwards and pushing himself faster. I snorted, moving so I just kept pace with him. I just enjoyed watching him run, revelled in seeing the spark of ironic life in his deep caramel eyes.

I was just considering overtaking him, if only to see the look on his face, when his foot suddenly caught on an exposed tree root and he catapulted forwards, crashing into the ground with a small explosion of dirt. Coming to an immediate stop, I crouched down beside him, concern on my face.

"Whoa," breathed the newborn, blinking up at the canopy above him, stunned by the fall. He sighed, turning his head so he was looking at me, exasperation in his eyes. "Is it possible for a vampire to be clumsy?" he asked, voice nearly a whine.

"Apparently so," I smirked widely, grasping his hand and pulling him up standing in an instant. I kept our hands intertwined as I began to drag him in the direction of my house. This time at a human pace.

"Just my luck," he grumbled, gripping my hand back and taking extra care not to trip over again. "The only clumsy vampire in existence."

I chuckled again, pressing into his side as we walked. "How do you feel?" I asked him quietly. An owl hooted in the distance, the moonlight trickling through the trees making his chalky skin look even whiter.

"Strong," he said, our hands beginning to gently swing between us. We felt like a regular couple out for a nightly stroll – but we weren't, and to me, that was the best part.

"But like yourself?" I pressed, needing to know. Looking up into his face, I took in the spark of life to his eyes. He was staring at everything with wonderment, taking in the way the shadows didn't look dark, but rather full of muted but beautiful colour, the world suddenly looking like a Van Gogh painting come to life. "Do you still feel like you?"

He took a moment to consider his answer. "I feel...wired," he admitted, gripping my hand just that little bit tighter. "Kind of like I've just had ten cups of coffee."

"That's normal," I assured him, smiling slightly as we broke through the tree line and my street came into view. Walking faster, I dragged him along behind me with our connected hands.

"Hey, what do I do when the sun comes up?" he asked suddenly, a frown in his voice. "Do I just hide away inside until nighttime?"

"Only for tomorrow," I promised him gently. "This time tomorrow you'll have a daylight ring of your own."

We faded back into silence, the only sound the gentle tapping of our shoes against the concrete. I heard a snuffling sound begin to head towards us, and turned to see a woman stepping from her house, closing her front gate behind her.

"Oh," she said suddenly, gripping the end of her dog's leash tighter as she only just noticed us. "Jules," my neighbour said with a kind smile, recognising me immediately. "What are you doing out here at this time of night?"

Stiles had gone perfectly still beside me, like a stone statue, he stood and stared. I gripped his hand tighter as he inhaled, taking in her human scent and picking up on her wet, thudding heartbeat.

"We were just taking a quick stroll before bed, Mrs. Vanderbilt," I said quickly, already pulling Stiles along after me and attempting to move around her safely.

"Well, it's getting late," she said in a reprimanding tone. "What with those animal attacks a few months ago, I wouldn't walk around while it's dark, if I were you."

"You're right," I nodded. "We'll head inside right now."

"Who's this?" she asked, not seeming to take the hint.

"My boyfriend, Stiles," I said with a forced smile, inching around her. Stiles was gripping my hand tightly enough to make my bones crunch. I gripped him back, a silent plea to stay calm.

"The Sheriff's son?" she pressed cheerfully. She stepped closer and held out a hand to him. At that exact moment a gust of wind blew from the south. Like a wave of intoxication, her scent washed over us, and Stiles gave a low growl before he abruptly snapped. I saw it coming, spinning around and giving a hard shove to his chest, sending him back a good fifteen feet. He tripped on the pavement, hitting the ground hard.

I didn't waste any time, turning to a now terrified Mrs Vanderbilt and meeting her eyes in the moonlight. "You're going to go back inside and forget you saw us," I commanded her without hesitation. Pupils dilating, she immediately nodded her head.

"Goodbye," she said airily as her dog gave a low, concerned whimper. She turned, pushing open her gate and wandering back up her front stairs in a daze.

Turning, I reappeared beside Stiles, who was blinking up at me in shock. "You're okay," I promised him. Mrs Vanderbilt's front door closed with a low click that echoed throughout the empty street.

"I almost-" he cut himself off, the words hard to force out. Leaning down, I grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. "It was like everything disappeared, and all I could focus on was her heartbeat," he muttered in a daze.

"I'm sorry," I apologised softly, rubbing my thumb soothingly against the back of his hand. "I didn't think anyone else would be out at this time of night."

Stiles barely seemed to hear me. "I was going to eat her," he said, disgusted with himself. I was surprised, newborn vampires usually weren't that self aware.

"But you didn't," I reminded him, tugging him quickly across the street. My house came into view, and I pulled him at vampire speed onto my porch, unlocking the door and shoving my way inside, shutting it after me, sealing us away from the world.

Stiles still seemed to be in a state of shock. He was staring down at my hardwood floor, eyes glassy and distant.

"How're you feeling?" I asked him gently.

He grimaced like the question had hit a nerve. "Hungry," he said, utterly honest. I smiled, the expression grim. I wouldn't have expected anything less.

I didn't bother turning on any lights. We could both see perfectly in the dark house, there was no point to them any more. Curling my fingers through Stiles', I dragged him through the halls of my house. Only a few short hours ago the journey from my entrance to my kitchen would have been silent for him, now it was full of sounds. The low hoot of an owl outside, the scratch of the possum in the walls that I hadn't yet bothered to get rid of, the barely-there creak of the floorboards under the weight of our steps.

The world was suddenly full of sounds, and I knew it would be a long journey for him, the difficult task of learning to block out the white noise of the world.

The fridge light flickered on as I pulled open the door, and I rummaged around inside before holding out two separate bags of blood.

"A positive or B negative?" I asked simply, but the question stumped him.

"Uh..." he hesitated. "I don't know the difference," he admitted with a slightly shy expression, looking completely and utterly helpless. A grin stretched across my face, and I picked the A positive, moving over to the microwave and setting it inside to heat.

"A types have a sweeter taste, while O's tend to be a little more bitter, and B's more metallic. Your AB's are the best, they're just the right mix of sweet and sharp, but obviously they're a lot rarer to get ahold of, so we don't partake as much."

Stiles was leant against my counter, frowning deeply. I silently admitted that I would have traded the entire sum of money in my bank account to know what he was thinking in that moment. I stepped closer, pushing myself up just slightly on my toes and pressing my palm against his cheek, brushing my thumb across the skin under his eye.

"Hey," I said, the words a tender whisper, concern drenching my tone. It was a question, gentle but pressing. He caught my eyes, and the insecurity I saw in them was staggering.

"I have so much to learn," he told me, whispering too, like the words were a secret just for the two of us to know. I stared back silently, continuing to brush my thumb across his face, waiting patiently for him to elaborate. "For some reason I thought I already knew everything. Being around you, you taught me so much, but it was all theoretical. I'm starting to understand that, really, I don't know anything at all."

I smiled softly. "There isn't going to be an exam, Stiles," I reminded him playfully. "You'll learn as you go. Every newborn vampire experiences growing pains, and most don't even have someone to coach them through it. You do."

His hand came up to grasp at the one I held on his face. "You promise?" he asked, voice wavering.

"With everything I have, I vow it to you," I swore, and he smiled, seeming to switch from scared an insecure to bright and happy. All at once he frowned, confused by his sudden change in mood. "I've gone through about thirty different emotions in the space of the last twenty minutes," he said around a grumpy frown.

"Mood swings are part of the change," I assured him. "Eventually they'll even out."

"When?"

From behind us the microwave began to beep, and I patted him gently on the cheek before falling back onto the flats of my feet and moving over to retrieve his snack. "It's different for everyone," I said, picking up a mug and shaking it in the air, a silent offer.

He responded by simply snatching the bag from my hand and tearing off the cap with his razor sharp teeth, tossing it carelessly onto my floor and beginning to drink like a man who'd been dying of thirst.

I looked away, giving him a moment to drink as I picked up his discarded cap and tossed it in the trash. By the time I'd turned back, the blood bag was empty, and Stiles was still sucking at it fruitlessly.

Smiling just a little wryly, I took it from him, throwing it in the trash too.

"What now?" Stiles asked after a short moment of peaceful quiet. "Do I start reading books? Take up a hobby? How does one adjust to becoming immortal – y'know, without the whole bloody-rampage thing?"

"Stiles," I laughed gently, drifting closer once more, as though being apart from him for longer than a few moments was just too much to bare. "You might be a vampire now, but you're still you. You don't have to do anything different. We could watch some television, or a movie? I think I still have your copy of Star Wars around here somewhere."

"I – I dunno," he muttered, frown knitting at his brow.

"Let me guess. You're feeling too wired to sit still?" I surmised.

He looked slightly shy. "Yeah," he nodded emphatically. "I feel like I need to go run a marathon. Like I need to go deadlift a thousand pounds. Like I need to punch something really hard. Like I need to..." he trailed off, still frowning.

"Need to..." I prompted him gently, wondering where the sentence was heading.

This time he looked more awkward than he did shy. "Is it too early in my transition for us to..." he trailed off once more, gesturing between myself and him suggestively. I caught on quickly, but I couldn't help but tease him just slightly. It was in my DNA.

"For us to...what?" I asked, blinking at him innocently.

His expression twisted uncomfortably. "Y'know..." he said, awkward and stilted as he winced.

"Stiles," I began, giving in quicker than I'd meant to. "You don't have to put in a formal request for sex," I said around an impish grin. "You just have to kiss me and I'm yours," I promised, and he swallowed, the sound loud in the empty space of my sparsely furnished kitchen.

"Is it different?" he asked me, still frowning. "As a vampire, as opposed to being human," he quickly added. "Is it different?"

This time my impish grin was more of a wicked smirk as I sauntered towards him. "You've been a vampire for a half hour, and already the first thing on your mind is sex?" I asked coyly, and he swallowed again. I swayed closer, reaching out and grasping onto his hand, gently dancing my fingertips across his large palm.

If he'd still been human, he would have been panting, his heart racing, but now he wasn't breathing at all and the organ in his chest was utterly silent.

"To answer your question, though," I continued, slowly tracing my fingers up the length of his arm. Little hills appeared on his skin in the wake of my touch, and my smirk widened. "It is different as a vampire."

"How, uh, how so?" he stammered, voice husky. I felt my insides clench, but I kept my expression coy and neutral, giving him no hint to the attraction I felt raging within me like an inferno.

"Well, for starters, everything's hyper sensitive," I whispered, fingertips dragging over his broad shoulders and dancing their way across his collarbone. He swallowed for a third time, and I leaned closer, letting my breasts brush his chest as I inhaled his scent.

It was clearly vampire, but still so very much Stiles, and my gums ached with the urge to bite down on the junction of his neck and shoulder. Not out of hunger, but instead a sheer, possessive desire, a lust that threatened to consume me completely.

"S-sensitive?" he stuttered again.

I hummed in response, leaning in and dragging my nose up and down his throat, shamelessly breathing him in. "It's like everything's dialled up to a hundred," I said into his neck, delighted when he shivered as my lips brushed his skin. "And now you're like me, so you're stronger. Faster. Harder."

I brushed my pelvis against his, feeling the evidence of his arousal against me. I purred, hand creeping up into his hair, tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. He moaned, hands still at his sides, like he didn't know what to do with them.

I pushed myself up, unable to help myself as I took his earlobe between my teeth and nibbled. "You know what the best part's going to be?" I breathed into his ear.

He didn't answer, instead making a kind of whimpering noise when I pressed more firmly against him.

"I won't have to be gentle any more," I told him, pulling back enough to meet his eyes through the dark. They sparkled with the kind of desire that consumed you like a raging inferno. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" I whispered, half teasing, half serious. It had only been a short while since he'd turned, after all. He had to be confused, overwhelmed. I didn't want him to do anything he wasn't totally sure about. I didn't want to push him too hard too fast.

He blinked, eyes hazy with lust. "I just have to kiss you, and you're mine, right?" he asked, sounding just about as wrecked as I felt.

I didn't answer, but then again, I didn't have to. I just had to smile, lips pressed together as I stared up into his caramel eyes, and then he swooped down, crashing his lips onto mine like he were poisoned and I was his only cure. I understood the feeling.

I kissed him back, and he wasted no time gripping my waist. He wasn't aware of his newfound strength, and I immediately felt him bruise me, but I just moaned into the kiss, the pain so good it became pleasure.

He nipped at my lips, hands sliding around to my back, fingers dragging down my spine like claws. I moaned again, shoving him back against the island and pressing against him, tugging more firmly at his hair.

What he did next, however, stunned me. In a move he'd never have been able to do before, he wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, hefted me up like I weighed nothing, and in the blink of an eye we were on the far end of the room. He threw me up against the wall, the plaster cracking under the assault, and I instinctually locked my legs around his waist, arching into him as he bit at my lip again, then soothed the wound with his tongue, moaning at the intoxicating taste of my blood.

I grasped at his flannel, and in a thoughtless move I ripped it from his body, the material tearing like paper, falling in tatters to the floor.

He copied me, grabbing a fistful of my shirt and yanking. It ripped from me like it were nothing, and I felt a flare of arousal at the display of brute strength.

Ducking down, I sealed my lips around his pulse point and bit down. I was careful not to break the skin, not wanting to push him too far, but I scraped my teeth against his skin, the drag of the pull and the taste of his skin intoxicating.

I felt the world disappear from under me, and suddenly I was being thrown onto my bed. He was fast now – I'd almost forgotten. I grinned up at him where he hovered above me, staring down at me with such a ravenous hunger that it made me moan, gripping the undershirt he was wearing and tearing it from his body.

Finally free of the stupid shirt, I raked my nails down his back just as he swooped down, beginning to lavish kisses on the sensitive hollow of my throat, grinding himself into my core. I rolled my hips, the zipper of my jeans scraping against him through his pants, and he growled, the sound guttural and animalistic, making me just that bit more hot.

He was straining against his pants, and I pulled them from him, leaving him in nothing but briefs that didn't very little to conceal anything, and his mouth moved down to my breasts after he impatiently got rid of the bra covering them, tossing it carelessly across the room.

I palmed him through his briefs, and he stopped his work at my chest to press his head into my neck and take deep breaths, gaining control.

"Don't hold back," I begged him, wrapping my legs around his waist and bucking into him, making him give that animalistic growl once more. "Don't hold back," I said again, raking my nails down his spine again, making him shudder.

My pants were gone so fast that even I had trouble keeping up, my underwear gone with them. He moaned at the sight of me and made to go in, attempting to settle his face between my legs. As wonderful as that would have been, I was far, far too impatient to bother with foreplay.

"No," I said sternly, dragging him forcefully back up to my face, kissing him deeply, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he no longer needed to breathe to survive. I could kiss him for days without either of us ever needing to come up for air. It was a dizzying realisation, and I deepened out kiss further, taking a long moment to suck on his tongue.

"Jules," he chanted like a prayer when I finally let his mouth go, rocking into me, still just barely contained by his briefs.

"Stiles, please," I pleaded with him, and he swallowed, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he nodded. I tore his briefs from his body, leaving him bare and pressed up against my heat, and we both moaned.

Shoving him, I forced him onto his back, and didn't so much as hesitate to settle down over his length.

He threw his head back, and I could only imagine how intense it must have felt for a vampire as young as him. I moaned too, the feeling of him filling and stretching me almost too much to bear. I ground my hips against him, enjoying the feel of him in me, in no hurry to move.

But apparently he was.

In a move so much stronger than I'd ever thought he'd be capable of, he tossed me onto my back, reclaiming his spot on top of me, and thrusting inside of me with a desperation I could easily match.

"Jules," he moaned again, and when I opened my eyes it was to see fangs peeking out from between his pink lips.

As we met thrust for thrust, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face into my neck. "Bite me," I ordered him, feeling his pelvis scrape against my clit so perfectly it left me seeing stars.

"Jules," he said again, less of a moan, more of a question.

"Bite me," I begged, gripping his hair tighter.

He was too lost in sensation to argue or the be in any way unsure, and a moment later I felt his gorgeous, razor sharp fangs slice through my throat.

This time my moan was loud and passionate, pleasure humming through me like lightning licking at my every nerve. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall was loud, and I could hear the plaster crumbling under the assault, but I couldn't have possibly cared less.

"Oh God," panted Stiles, breaking away from my neck, blood smeared on his lips. I grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, letting out a small moan at a particularly rough thrust that made him groan with pleasure.

I broke away from his mouth, kissing my way down the long, pale column of his throat until I made it to his shoulder. Letting my fangs slide free, I didn't hesitate to bite down, sinking my deadly fangs into his skin. His cool blood flooded my mouth, and as I bit harder he shuddered violently above me. I indulged for an extra moment before breaking away and licking the wound soothingly, the making my way back up to his lips as I forced him back onto his back.

I liked being on top, hands splayed on his smooth chest, controlling the pace, watching his blissful expression.

"Jules," he panted again, face scrunched in concentration.

"It's okay," I told him as he pushed himself upwards, wrapping his arms around me, both of us sitting upright now, thrusting and grinding against one another in a desperate search of our peaks. "Let go," I breathed, nails digging into his skin, leaving bloodied marks that healed almost instantly.

He thrusted harder, the strength behind his movements beautifully bruising, and I cried out as he brushed my clit again, the way he was rubbing sending me over the edge. I held on for dear life as I came, one hand gripping the nape of his neck, the other tangled in his unruly hair. I think I called out his name as I rode out my high, and I heard him chanting my name in my ear as he spilled inside of me.

We didn't move for several long, drawn out moments, curled around one another like monkeys, him still inside me, large but slowly softening. Sweat clung to our bodies, making my inky hair stick to my neck, and he reached up to gently brush it away.

Eventually he fell backwards, collapsing against the bed and taking me with him. I landed inelegantly on his chest, then burrowed my face into his throat, which was still bloody from my love bite, although the wound itself had long since healed.

Despite our lack of a need for air, we still panted, like it were a leftover instinct of our humanity. Tracing my fingernail down his bare chest, I inhaled his scent again, also catching the musky smell of sex that hovered in the room.

My head lay on Stiles' chest, but there was no racing pulse beneath my ear. His heart was silent as the dead – silent as mine. Instead of feeling sad, or in any way disappointed, I felt a warm wave of affection. Tilting my head, I pressed a tender, loving kiss to the place over his still heart, my love for this man utterly indescribable.

"You were right," Stiles finally muttered from above me, but I didn't look up from where I was tracing patterns on his bare chest.

"Hm?" I hummed, only half interested.

"Vampire sex is different," he said, and I reluctantly tore my attention away from the small splattering of moles at his clavicle.

"Different good?" I asked with mild concern.

"Blow-your-mind good," he promised, and I smiled, ducking my head back down once more. "Hey," he said suddenly, the arm curled around my waist tightening, his other hand coming up to cradle my face, angling it up so I was looking at him. "I love you," he told me with the sort of conviction that left one speechless.

Instead of replying in kind, I had to ask a very important question. "You're happy to be a vampire, right?" I asked nervously, propping myself up on his chest, resting my chin on my folded arms and looking up at him through my lashes.

Stiles looked surprised by my sudden question, so I hurried to elaborate.

"I mean, we were going to wait a few years. You were meant to have time to prepare, to be ready. I don't want you to resent me because of what happened, or how it happened, or because it happened before you were ready," I told him, still rested on his solid chest, peering into his bottomless eyes, fear and a hint of self-loathing in my own.

Stiles was silent, only serving to make me more anxious. But I waited, impatient as I felt, keeping my lips sealed shut and my eyes focused on his, watching as thoughts whirred away inside his head.

"I wanted more time as a human, yeah," he admitted, and despite having already known this, it made me feel sad anyway. Seeing the negative emotion pass through my eyes, he was quick to continue. "But that doesn't mean I'm not happy to be like you now."

I wasn't convinced, and apparently my expression said as much.

"Jules," he began, slow and emphatic, one hand reaching up to run through my inky hair, gripping a handful and holding tight, keeping my eyes locked on his. "I want this. I want to be like you; to be with you forever. It's going to take awhile to adapt, but I think I'm allowed a period of adjustment."

"Of course you are, love," I promised him, leaning my head into his touch, feeling so much love bursting from my chest that I was sure he could somehow feel it too. "It's going to be a journey. There's a lot to learn, a lot to get used to," I murmured, swallowing thickly.

"And my Yoda you will be," he said with a large, goofy grin. Rolling my eyes, I dropped my forehead back onto his chest, shaking my head in fond exasperation. An eternity of cheesy Star Wars jokes – that was what I had gotten myself into. "Jules, honestly," Stiles pressed, growing serious, "I'm fine. More than fine. Not only do I have built-in night vision, I can run faster than the human eye can see, I've got fangs, and I'm in bed with the love of my life. I don't think things could get any better."

"Well, you haven't killed anyone yet," I muttered darkly. "Let's see how you feel after murdering an innocent person just because you've got a craving."

Stiles sighed, the sound loud and dramatic. "Can you not poke holes in my happiness, please?" he pleaded, just a tad grouchy.

"You're right," I conceded, looking back up into his eyes. "We're going to get through this together, and we're going to have endless happiness while we're doing it."

"Damn right we are," he grumbled, tightening his hold on me, dragging me impossibly closer and slanting his mouth against my neck. His teeth brushed my skin, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the touch.

"Keep that up, and I'll never let you out of this bed," I breathed, one hand coming up, nails dragging through his wonderful hair.

"Sounds good to me," he said against my throat. I laughed without reservation, and once again lost myself in the feel of him.


The sun had long since risen above the horizon, and I'd made sure every curtain I had was pulled tightly across its window. Not even an ounce of sunlight could leak into the house, and I rested easy knowing Stiles was safe.

"Y'know, when I imagined my first day as a vampire, a hearty game of Scrabble wasn't quite what I envisioned," he told me before wrapping his lips around the end of his straw, sucking the heated blood into his mouth and letting out a happy sigh at the taste.

I finished placing down my word (picnic, for twelve points), then looked up at him with an impish expression. "What about all the sex?" I asked coyly, jerking my head off to the side, where the tatters of our second and third set of clothes remained on the floor. In retrospect, we probably shouldn't have bothered getting dressed at all.

He couldn't blush anymore, and I found that I missed the blotchy red that used to stain his cheeks when he grew embarrassed. Still, it was a small price to pay to be with him forever. "Well, that either, if I'm honest," he said simply, tongue poking from his mouth as he assessed his tiles, trying to come up with a word to get him back on top. "Not that I'm complaining," he added, laying down his chosen letters (fright, for thirteen points).

"What did you imagine we'd be doing?" I asked. "I hate to break it to you, but immortality is a bit of a boring gig."

"I don't think it will be for me," he said immediately. I looked back up curiously, he was already staring at me. "Because I have you," he told me simply, no word of a lie.

A grin tugged at my lips, pulling them up into a wide, sappy smile. "You think I can't be boring?" I asked playfully, tilting my head at him, green eyes narrowed, darting between his eyes and his plump, pink lips.

"I don't think you could be boring if you tried, Jules," he said, voice ringing with sincerity.

I was just about to launch myself across our pathetic board game, knock over our blood bags and jump him right there on my living room floor when I heard a car pull into my driveway. Stiles heard it too, freezing and glancing over his shoulder.

Cocking my head, I listened closer, realising it was just Althea. I could hear her uneven steps on the path that led to my front door. "It's okay," I told him, reaching for a sweater to cover my bare skin, then yanking on a pair of Stiles' jeans. "You'd better get dressed," I warned him.

He did as he was told, lifting his head to tentatively sniff the air. "Is it a human?" he asked, undeniably anxious.

"Better," I said, walking towards the door at a human pace. "It's a witch."

Althea looked the same as ever, except perhaps with just a few more wrinkles around the eyes. She grinned up at me wryly from under her fringe of red hair, lit up like fire in the light of the sunset.

"Althea," I greeted her amicably. "Nice to see you," I glanced out beyond her, hearing nor seeing any of her brood with her. "The kids didn't wanna come for a ride?" I asked curiously.

Althea snorted like I'd made a joke. "I left them with a friend in town," she told me. "As if I was going to bring them to a house with a day-old vampire," she gave a small scoff.

"Fair enough," I said, stepping out of the way and letting her into the house.

"So, where's this Romeo of yours, then?" she asked, her prosthetic leg making a hollow kind of thump against my wooden floors.

I led her around the corner, into the living room where Stiles had tidied up a little, at least getting rid of the torn clothing we'd left strewn across the floor, like a pair of horny cavemen. He was standing by the fireplace, self-consciously running his fingers through his hair. He looked up when we stepped into the room, and I could tell he wasn't breathing.

"Stiles, this is an old friend of mine, Althea," I told him. "Althea, meet Stiles," I said, gesturing between them.

Althea gave my boyfriend a long, appraising stare. "You'll understand if I won't shake your hand," she said steadily, and Stiles nodded his head.

"Would you like some tea?" I offered the witch politely.

"I'd rather skip the pleasantries and get straight to the magic, if it's all the same to you," Althea told me bluntly.

I smiled, she was as predictable as ever. "Fair enough," I nodded, moving over to the mantle place. Stiles watched as I gripped the top of a small glass box, pulling it up and plucking out what lay within. "This is for you," I told him softly, holding out the ring for him to see.

He hesitated a long second, brown eyes flickering between me and the ring before he finally took it, holding it closer to his face, looking at it closely.

It was an intricate band, however was thick and masculine, the pure silver crafted to look like the jaws of a wolf. In its teeth sat a large, glittering lapis lazuli stone. "I thought it was fitting," I explained in a quiet voice that Althea did her best to pretend she couldn't hear. "The wolf for how it all began, and the stone for where we are now."

Stiles stared down at it wordlessly, too many emotions in his eyes to possibly name even one.

"Hate to break up the chick-flick moment, but the sun's going down. We've gotta do this now," said Althea from her place by the window, peeking out through my curtains.

I ducked down slightly, catching Stiles' eyes. "We good to go?" I asked hopefully. He finally nodded, and I plucked the ring from his hand, moving over to the witch at the window. "Stay out of the light," I warned him, and he flattened himself against the wall as Althea tugged open the curtains.

A sliver of rich, golden sunlight pierced through my window, landing on the side table, which was coated in a thin layer of dust. I handed the ring off to Althea, who placed it in the light. Watching with bated breath, I saw Althea take a deep breath in, closing her eyes in concentration.

Everything was silent for a few long, long moments, then Althea abruptly opened her eyes.

"Done," she said, like she'd just finished washing the dishes, and hadn't just given my immortal boyfriend the gift of daylight.

"Just like that?" Stiles asked from behind me.

"Just like that," Althea confirmed.

I swiped up the ring, tossing it at Stiles, who plucked it from the air with a grace he'd never had when he was human. Gazing at it once more, he slowly slid it onto the middle finger of his right hand.

"Ready to test it out?" I asked.

He shot the sunlight streaming in through the window a distrustful glance, so I stuck out my hand, wriggling my fingers at him enticingly. He took my hand, and with a small smile I tugged him forwards into the light.

He flinched, the movement instinctual, but a moment later realised he wasn't burning to ash. Peeking up at the sunlight, a smile broke out across his face, one that made my heart feel full enough to burst.

"Thank you, Althea," I said to my old friend.

"Yeah, yeah," she murmured, tossing back her deep crimson hair. "Now we're even."


A/N: I know, I know, it's been far FAR too long since my last update. You guys know how life gets, and on top of that, I've been working on some new projects that have taken up a lot of my time. I wanna make sure you guys know that every single favourite, follow and review means the absolute world to me. I get so excited when I get a notification, and it never fails to brighten up my day. You guys are the best.

Anyway, I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this one. We're on the home stretch, only a few chapters left to go. Let me know your thoughts! xx