Author's note: YOU GUYS! It's late and I have classes tomorrow, so be happy because you have a new chapter and a small note from me.

I'm sorry if my english is bad. :(

And I hope you like the chapter.

Chapter eight: Sacred

"That slow burn wait while it gets dark, bruising the sun.
I feel grown up with you in your car, I know it's dumb."
Lorde

There was a place in the woods Malia liked almost more than her den. It was near a stream with lots of mood and a permanent smell of fresh grass. It had a huge alder tree that was always so beautiful on the spring and summer days.

The first time she went there was the day of the accident. She was running from what happened, scared and guilty, trying to find a consolation she knew she didn't deserve nor would ease her pain. Struggling to walk on her animal paws, she stumbled until the moment she found the clearing. It was so beautiful, the full moon enlightening the tall grass and the dandelions moving to the breeze and that marvelous tree, she could swear to God she could see fairies all around it.

The glade was a glade because of a fallen tree. She couldn't say what was it, but it had fallen for long enough to a bunch of ivy to grow on its trunk.

Tired, amazed and unable to cry, she closed the few meters to the alder tree, curled on its roots and slept for two days, wrapped by the mix of nature smell that became so familiar to her as time passed by.

That was the smell that hit her when she entered in the clinic. She couldn't tell if it was the place's scent or just her coyote-self getting ready to go back.

To go back was something she avoided to think since Stiles entered for real in her life. Her goal, since being forced to human form months before, was to turn into a coyote again and run away forever. But since she met the Sheriff's son and his friends, she knew it wouldn't be so easy. Her family history was a mess and now that she was buried to the chest in it, it wouldn't matter how fast or far she could run: they would find her. Peter would find her.

"What do you want to know?" Deaton said, finally sitting with Stiles and Malia, and snapping the girl out of her thoughts.

"How about… with Malia's family?" Stiles suggested. The vet nodded, and she moved in her seat.

"Okay. Where do you want me to start?" he asked, but the teenagers just looked at him, like they were waiting for him to simply start, not caring where. He nodded again. "Right. First of all, Malia, you were raised by Peter until you were almost two years old. Talia always had an eye on you, because the Hale family always had a big deal about its women. Technically, Laura was supposed to take over her mother's legacy, but you and Cora were being watched too, and so were all the females of your family that died at the fire a few years ago."

"Was my real mother there too?" Malia asked, her voice was uncommonly weak. They only had two hours until the sun come down. Deaton shook his head.

"No. your mother was human, but you've got to understand that when your aunt decided to take you to Fae, she had to do the whole job. She wiped the memory from almost everyone related to the Hale, only a few people knew fragments of the whole and I'm the only one who lived to tell the story."

"Derek has no memory of Malia?" Stiles asked surprised.

"No. Nor Cora. It was easier to clean the memory of the little ones. Laura was the one who knew who your mother is, Malia. I don't." the Doc looked at her sadly. "Not anymore. Sorry."

She wasn't very interested in it anyway; the mention of her mother's name – Fae – brought numerous memories of her childhood, memories she'd ratter forget.

"It's fine." Malia answered.

"But why did she have to give Malia to someone else in the first place?" Stiles asked, eager to know more.

"Well," the Doc started. "I don't remember what happened exactly, but Malia did something. Among all the Hale kids she could do something related to authority. She was only two." He looked at Malia, said more fiercely. "You were only two and it shone like diamonds. Peter flipped. He wanted you to be trained to be the next alpha under his commands, he wanted to take Talia and her daughters out of the family tree, so he'd rule with his daughter."

The teenagers swallowed, taken aback. Stiles knew Peter was crazy, no one need to tell him again. But to be that power hungry… he had never been so sure he'd have to let Malia as far from her father as possible.

"You've got to understand that it wasn't in Talia's plans." Now Deaton as talking directly to Malia. "The Hale were traditional and she intended on raising you with the rest of the family, and when you were ready, Laura would give you the place you belong. It was the natural path to follow, but Peter ruined it. So she talked to me and to her friend Fae, who was pregnant at the time with the baby you knew as your sister. We all agreed that a fairy would be the best option to you: she'd be able to raise you normal and supernatural and to answer your questions and be there for you. But Fae was no banshee and she couldn't sense that you'd turn so young. We were expecting it to happen around year eleven, that's the average. But you are nothing average, are you?"

It made her smile and eased the tension on her shoulders.

"Hold on a sec," Stiles interrupted. "Her adoptive mother was a fairy? And her name was Fae?"

"Nickname." Malia answered. "But it makes sense to me now."

"And what about her father? Tate?" he asked. "He did that weird thing with the dog when Scott and I broke into her house to find her scent."

"He's something else." Was the only answer from Deaton.

"But if he knew about the supernatural, why did he try to kill Malia?"

"Well, he was expecting a werewolf, not a werecoyote, firstly." The Doc said, as if it was obvious. "And his wife and younger daughter had the coyote bites in their bodies, so he was very mad at that creature. Wouldn't you?"

They were silent for a moment, trying to internally decide if they'd do the same.

"I did bite them." Malia said suddenly. "I tried to help them, take them out of the car. But the blood made me dizzy and at some moment I just gave away and ran. I didn't think I was doing something good after all. My dad always said I was too smart, too ahead for my own good. I figure I'd use my super-brain to do something wise for once and I ran."

"Talia tried to find you. She tried for days." Deaton assured. "Every full moon of her short life after the car accident, she'd howl on the hopes of finding her niece, but you were sneaky, so smart. Coyote, not wolf." He smiled. "Lonely, but wise, indeed. Noble, even, like Kira's kitsune."

"We have a fox, we have a coyote." Stiles commented, sitting more relaxed on his chair. "I wonder when we'll find a raven."

Deaton shook his head.

"You don't want to find a raven." He said, and Stiles stood straighter to argument, but the Doc's eyes were on Malia. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." She answered, a hand on her stomach. "This full moon business is a lot of work."

"I wonder." He said and stood up, looking for something in one of his shelves. He came back with a glass full of green leaves and handed it to the girl. "Chew one of them, it'll ease your nerves."

"Thanks." She replied, taking the glass, opening and fishing one of the leaves. It smelled like mint. "What is it?"

"Mint."

"I thought so." Malia said nodding, and put the small leaf in her mouth.

"You know," Deaton continued. "Talia wasn't the only one who could change to full animal form; Laura could do it too. But she had to be taught and it took years for her to master it. But you did it in your first time without training. No wonder Talia wanted to hide you. If Peter could put his hands on you and mold you, I would've been out of this town in a long time already."

They laughed nervously. Malia knew that from Stiles and his friends all the stories about her biological father. She could sense in him something bad. And she couldn't help but want to know him. But now Deaton was really freaking her out. Could someone be that nasty?

"What else do you want to know?" asked the Doc and Stiles fished his phone from his pocket, quickly going to the photos folder.

"Yeah, of course!" he came over to where Deaton was sitting. "So, Lydia was all weird and mysterious today; she decided to make these weird drawings on everyone she could put her hands in. Actually, only people we knew were involved with the supernatural somehow. This is Danny's…"

They heard the sound of wheels outside and Malia announced that Scott had arrived. Deaton took the phone from Stiles' hands, looking picture by picture.

"Lydia did this?" he asked, getting up again and started to walk around, just looking at the pictures, trying to figure out what the banshee wanted with it.

"Yes." Malia was the one to answer. "Do you know what they mean? Is it something bad?"

"Not really."

"Which part?" Stiles asked, the moment Scott entered in the room.

"You showing the drawings already?" he asked. "Did I miss something important."

"Did you know that there's fresh mint in here?" Malia said, putting the open glass under Scott's nose. He flinched.

"Gosh, I hate mint." He said, at the same time Stiles told her "He hates mint."

"You must be a really sad person, then." She said, one hand on his shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment, Malia smiling, and Scott rolled his eyes.

"Guys? Focus." Stiles exclaimed. "We have less than an hour 'til the moon and we also have a paranoid banshee."

"More like overprotective banshee." Deaton corrected. "Danny's actually means protection, protective biding. And who's this one?" he asked, showing the picture, and Scott raised his left arm, showing the drawing. "It's meant for you to see the path clearly." Scott frowned, but had no time to say something, because the Doc continued. "This is Kira's, right? It means time. And the last is Lydia's – draw on her right hand, because she's left-handed. It means to lock."

"And together… do they mean something?" Stiles asked anxious.

"These are Celtic symbols, they always mean something." The vet answered. "Let me see yours."

Both Stiles and Malia extended their left arm, showing the drawings. Deaton's eyes were a little surprised when he saw Stiles', so he decided to take a look at Malia's first. He knew that symbol many times, drew it many times in the Hale children when they first started to change.

"It's divinely guided transformation." He said and let go of her hand to hold Stiles'. "Which explains yours." He pointed the small symbol, a pattern of lines very simple, maybe simpler than everyone else's. "You've got the divine pattern."

Stiles sighed.

"You know, I'm done with the divine stuff since thanksgiving." The boy complained.

"There's nothing you can do about it." Deaton said casually. "Fate is a bitch. You try to run from it, it comes right in your heels and bites you in the ass."

"Okay." Stiles agreed. "I've never seen you talking like this, so I guess I need to take you serious."

"Stiles." Malia warned.

"He just sounded very ghetto, that's all."

"Stiles." She warned again, and he looked at Deaton's serious face.

"All right. So I have to do something to help Malia's transformation?"

"In this case, I think you already had." Deaton said, looking at Malia. "She's different."

"You can tell by looking at her?" Scott asked amazed.

"And why does Stiles has to do something to help me?" Malia asked, a bit annoyed and offended. She was no damsel in distress, she could handle things on her own.

"Because he's your anchor." The vet answered matter of factly. "And because he can lead you in your transformation."

"How could I possibly do that?" Stiles asked, more surprised than anyone else.

"You've been doing it already without even knowing how." Deaton told him. "You did it the very first time you were together. Malia felt the change, didn't you?" the girl just shook her head positively. "You equalize her naturally and today you both did something – I don't know and I don't want to know what – that filled her with energy, she can do anything. Don't you feel so, Malia?"

A little blushed, she nodded.

"I kind of feel that way, yes."

"And that's why you are here today, isn't it?" Deaton asked Stiles, who hadn't got back to his natural color, his cheeks still blushed. "When is your birthday?

"April eight."

"Are you familiar with Celtic astrology, Stiles?"

"No." he answered quickly. "Should I?" and after a dead stare from the vet, he nodded. "I should. Okay, fine. Great."

"Do you know which tree is the one Lydia drew in your pulse?" Stiles just shook his head no. "It's an Alder tree, the Celtic version of it. The alder tree is your tree, according to their calendar."

"So what?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"I've kept an eye on you, Stiles, and I know my sister did the same. Druids can come from family, but it's, more than anything, a religion. You can become an emissary; and I think we all knew you already were one."

None of his words made sense to the boy, whose brain stopped at the word "Druid".

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that maybe I was sort of training you for the last couple of years and I think you are natural. You are one of us and you have so much to learn. I can teach you the bigger part, but you should have self-defense classes and all. It's not easy to be so close to the supernatural. Don't forget the darkness in your heart, it'll haunt you down forever. So you'll need to learn how to maintain the balance in and out of you."

Shocked, Stiles had to sit down again, saying things no one could really understand, talking to himself. He had only absorbed half of the words.

"How do I do that? How am I supposed to maintain my inner balance?" he asked weakly.

"The Nemeton was meant to that." Deaton answered. "Marin and I've been searching for a new Nemeton in years, but we had little success. Fae told us about the alder trees, that we need to look for them, but she never were specific and we have no idea where it is."

"Can't we use the old Nemeton?" Scott asked. "It's powered again."

"Its power will drain fast, we need a new place. It needs to be natural and connected, peaceful and indescribable."

"And this place has alder trees?" Malia asked, her dark eyes already blue. She looked at all of them full of energy.

"The place Fae told us, yes."

She nodded.

"I know where it is."

Stiles' eyes went wild.

"How?" he asked.

"I used to go there all the time. It was my favorite spot after my den."

"Malia, can you take us there?" Deaton asked, hope in his eyes. She had fangs now and her claws dig in her palms. Scott himself could feel his change. She nodded.

Seconds later, a coyote was standing on its four legs, her clothes ragged around her body.

"You did! You turned back!" Stiles said excited and he knelt down. Her eyes were clear and she didn't attempt to bite him when he started to unwrap the rags from her body. "Okay. You can take us to the Nemeton, can't you?" she made a sound that sounded much as agreement. "All right, then open the door, someone."

They all headed to the front door and as soon as Scott opened it, Malia started to run. Taken by surprise, both boys and the vet had a moment of shock before Scott ran after her.

"Take my bike!" he shouted, tossing him the keys and quickly Stiles was climbing on his friend's motocycle.

"Well, are you coming or not?" he asked Deaton, while putting on the helmet and the Doc nodded, opening the garage door. He had his own bike.

"Go ahead, I'm right behind you." And before he could finish, Stiles was already on his way.

A/N: A bit of action, why not? I have no idea how this chapter ended up in quality, but it has everything I wanted it to have. I'm gonna try to update again ASAP.

Please review? Please? And thank you for reading! x