Derek and the pack
The pack was silent, they couldn't believe that the Stiles they knew, the bundle of pain in their rear and the boy who was willing to do almost everything to get in their way, even when he had a good reason, was as powerful as Deaton was implying. It was impossible to believe, how could he be? He was Stiles, he wasn't related to the most powerful Warlock of all time, and Arthur and Camelot couldn't be real, it was a fairy tale. At least that is what Scott was telling himself, while Boyd just looked at the two men while Isaac curled into his side.
"Magic has been extinct since the Royal inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials," Derek said, folding his arms across his chest.
"Magic can be dormant if it is a threat to its person, and Stiles has the most potent amount of dormant magic that I have ever been witness to." Deaton spoke calmly, his blood pressure had slowly lowered.
"But," Derek attempted to find a reason to go against Deaton but he had nothing.
Peter finally emerged from the corner and walked towards his idiot nephew turned alpha and the witch doctor. "If Stiles was such an important creature, and part of the pack, how is it that we didn't immediately feel the loss when he was out of the pack?"
Deaton sighed and ran a hand across his face, "from what I can gather, Stiles believed that you still thought of him as part of the pack, and he –" Deaton stopped talking, his body stiffened, eyes taking on a distant look.
Derek and the rest of the pack stiffed in anticipation worried that something bad was approaching their den and Deaton was listening to his inner voices, or whatever he did to learn of a new threat. Suddenly Deaton's body sagged, Derek was barely able to catch him before Deaton kissed the ground. The pack was on high alert.
The betas vacated the couch and Deaton was gently placed on it, the werewolves watched as the man came to.
"He's gone," Deaton whispered.
Boyd held Isaac closely to his chest, while Scott just stared at Deaton in disbelief, Derek closed his eyes. And all of a sudden the pack felt the loss. As keenly as if they had lost a limb, the betas fell, Peter clutched the wall's edge in an attempt to stay upright. Derek planted his feet against the swaying ground and tried to fight the sudden urge to howl, to run into the wilderness surrounding Beacon Hills and never return. Stiles was dead.
Its short! I know! I'm sorry, I hope the previous chapter gave you the ability to forgive me! I hope you liked and I am going to do my utmost best to write more and post more frequently. Hope you enjoyed and I hope you review, like, favorite and all that jazz. Until next time! Adieu!