Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm sososososososo sorry it's been so long! I promise you I HAVE NOT forgotten about this story, it's just been a rough time for me lately. Thank you to all the favoriters/reviewers/followers! You guys are amazing! I hope you all like this chapter.

Chapter 16

"Did it ever occur to you," mused Stiles the next day in the lunchroom, "why Lyssa was even in the woods in the first place?"

In fact, naturally, it had occurred to Amy. She had been weighing the considerations in her own mind nearly incessantly since the incident; Lyssa's opportune presence last night was far too fortuitous to be coincidence. This, coupled with her inherent distrust of the woman, fostered a suspicion of epic proportions.

But she had not voiced this, because it had also occurred to her that her oft-vocalized disapproval was gaining her no real headway amongst her compatriots – she was no closer to persuading them to share her skepticism than she had been initially. So, she found herself testing out a different, more covert approach. She had adapted her plan, and now sought to figure out what Lyssa was up to on her own (because surely she was up to something), and present her findings to the rest of the group once she had concrete evidence of foul play.

"I did think about it," she replied sourly, disguising the depth of her suspicions. "She talked about how she would sometimes wander into the woods in her sleep right before the full moon – I think the same thing that happened to me happened to her. She did take a bullet for me, after all…"

Stiles looked unconvinced and opened his mouth to respond, but Scott cut him off. "Were you dreaming?" he asked in a low hiss. "That happened to me too a couple of times."

"Yeah," affirmed Amy. "Actually, Derek seemed kind of worried about it."

"What do you mean?" Stiles questioned, eyes narrowing further.

"Why would he be worried?" Scott piped in. "Like I said, I used to get them too."

"Lemme guess," said Amy, "dreams about killing?"

"Killing me," Allison clarified wryly before Scott could.

"Mine was the opposite," she said. "I was human and I was running away from an alpha… But not an alpha like Derek, like the Alpha."

"Like your dad?" Allison tried in a low, sympathetic tone.

"Yeah, like my dad. Like Peter."

XXXXX

AFTER SCHOOL

Back at home with Isaac and Derek, Amy asked, "Derek, was there something weird about my dream last night?"

The two males, who were currently occupied with boarding up the windows in preparation for the full moon, turned to look at her in puzzlement. "What do you mean?" her boyfriend asked.

Repeating what she had previously told her friends at lunch, she said, "You seemed worried when I told you that I was human in it."

At this, Derek sighed heavily and scratched the back of his neck. If there was one of Amy's personality traits that hadn't been washed out by the trauma of the past months, it was her fierce inquisitiveness.

"It's unorthodox," he said, "but I guess your whole experience is going to be. You have close associations with more than one powerful werewolf family, associations that run deep in your blood. You have your own heritage, but I mixed our bloodlines when I brought you back. Honestly, I don't know what long-term effects that might have… I might have seemed worried because sometimes dreams let us tap into a part of us we can't normally access, especially with blood wolves. Some people even believe dreams can act as inherited memories from our relatives or ancestors. When new wolves have dreams about being human, about being pursued by a monster, it usually means their body is rejecting the bite. But with you I think it's different."

She studied his features, eventually deciding that he seemed quite sincere. She felt fine, anyway, and there wasn't really much evidence that she could be rejecting the bite.

Poor Isaac observed the silent exchange somewhat uncomfortably. He never felt more like a third wheel than when he was in his new "home."

The three got back to prepping the apartment.

Amy couldn't help but feel like they were in something of a rut – here they were on the eve of the full moon, at the height of their power, cowering indoors like scared children. She longed for freedom, for the day when they would face the hunters head-on and eliminate them as a threat – eliminate that dark cloud of imminent peril that loomed just overhead – or die trying. Because living like this wasn't really living at all.

She did not dwell on this dissatisfaction for long, though. The full moon made focusing on one thought – whether it be positive or negative – immensely difficult.

And Derek was looking at her in that way, that way he looked at her when it was a full moon.

And so she turned her brain off.

It wasn't long before they disappeared behind their door, disappeared so conspicuously that Isaac automatically raised the volume on the TV to deafening levels. He knew the drill. Duck and cover until it's over. Just keep telling yourself it will be over soon. Like everything else.

Even so, the sound of door slamming behind them and Amy's back slamming, in turn, against the door cut above the din and seemed to rattle the whole building.

Derek's sharpened nails skimmed beneath the hem of her shirt and dragged against the skin of her taut stomach, leaving thin red lines in their wake. She knotted her hand into his thick hair, drawing him nearer as the humid warmth of his mouth jumped from her lips to the delicate column of her neck. She forced her eyes open to ground herself and she could almost feel them change to their electric blue. The air grew heavy in her lungs and her chest constricted; even after all this time, she felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach when he was with her.

The sun was in the process of setting through the Venetian blinds, making narrow pink and orange stripes across the whole room.

Derek lifted her t-shirt over her head, keeping her pinned against the door with his knee firmly between her thighs. He could feel a telltale heat through even through his jeans as Amy simultaneously pressed against him and clawed at the fabric of his shirt. Inadvertently, she slashed four long lines across the very front.

"I liked that shirt," he mumbled almost unintelligibly against her lips.

From the glint in his eyes, she could see that he really had no qualms about its destruction.

"Too bad," she quipped with a smirk, tearing it from his body and completely to shreds. Now that his chest was bare, she could better hear the erratic thumping of his heart.

She kissed him again and he lifted her clear off of the ground. Without missing a beat, she wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her to the bed.

He set her down roughly, but with unanticipated gentleness traced the stretch between her jaw line and her stomach with his lips and tongue once he had discarded her bra. He began fussing with the waistband of her jeans and his, before reaching over to their nightstand drawer.

Amy pressed her hand flush against the skin his pounding heart lay beneath; she could feel the tremors beneath her fingertips, feel them in sync with hers. "You don't have to," she murmured.

His blue-green eyes gained some clarity as he looked at her in incredulity. "Of course I do," he stated bluntly.

"You don't," she panted, tugging his hips down by his zipper. "I went to see Deaton."

Derek's movements slowed and he brought his hand to rest parallel to his other on the opposite side of her head, so he was hovering above her. He looked serious and she mentally kicked herself for killing the mood.

"What do you mean?" he nearly growled.

"He gave me something," she explained. "Something more… secure, foolproof. A pill. Tailor-made for werewolves."

"How is that possible?"

"Mountain ash, amongst other things. A minuscule dose."

She began to press her lips to the sensitive flesh between his neck and his collarbone, trying to get him to acquiesce.

"That might explain the dream," he mused aloud.

Amy pecked her way to the corner of his mouth and mumbled, "Yeah. Whatever," before silencing him with a languid kiss. She didn't want to their conversation on the matter to linger for even a moment longer – she didn't want any conversation whatsoever.

Luckily for her, he grew more and more complacent by the second, eventually succumbing to her will. One hand found itself in the dip of her lower back, the other cradling her face.

"Do we trust him?" he whispered seductively in her ear. "Do we trust Deaton with something so important?"

"He said it was just simple biology, that it doesn't matter if we're human or not."

This time he kissed her, purposefully. His tongue grazed against hers and his teeth nipped her lip and she was briefly unnerved by how skillful he could be. She was his, and always had been.

He had not always been hers.

Just as they were about to make a new leap, there was a jarring bang at the door.

"Not now!" Derek snapped ferociously between his ministrations.

There was another harsh knock, before the door swung open unexpectedly. Amy had to scramble at lightning speed to find something to cover the fact that she was topless, and Derek flew off her like someone had set him on fire.

"Isaac!" she screeched, breathless and horrified.

One hand was holding his cell phone to his ear and the other was shielding his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sorry guys, I know!" he said loudly, with unfettered mortification clear in his tone. "But this is important!"

"What," Derek grit out, ostensibly on the brink of homicide.

"Stiles is on the phone," he said, eyes still covered, "he says he can't find Scott."

"So?" Amy spat.

"Put him on speaker," Derek ordered.

"C-can I - ?"

Amy pulled her shirt over her head. "You can look," she allowed sullenly.

Isaac took the phone away from his ear and covered his nose and mouth with the other hand. Stiles' voice rang out in the room. "Hey, so I can't find Scott – I'm at his house right now, we were watching TV and I went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone."

"Have you tried calling him?" Derek pressed.

"Oh gee no, I hadn't thought of that – of course I fucking called him, do you think I'm an idiot?! Trust me, I wouldn't be interrupting whatever the hell is going on over there if I hadn't already tried to figure out where he is. And there's one thing that's really freaking me out…"

"What?" Isaac asked.

"There's some blood… Not a lot, like… dribbles… but still there's blood. And the window is wide open. And the drops of blood are leading towards the window, like someone dragged him out of it."

"We'll be right over," said Derek tonelessly.

Author's Note: Please review and let me know what you think! I know it takes time, but you guys are truly what motivates me to keep going. I hope the Derek sexiness made up at least a little bit for my long absence haha. Love you all!