What am I doing...? What am I doing?! Florence screamed at herself as she rode in the passenger seat next to Derek, who was driving. Kory, with a deal of convincing with Florence, was walking back to her hotel. She said she wanted to have air, didn't want to be in an enclosed space. Of course, Florence protested, but a firm, "Let her go," from Derek got her tail between her legs. Now, she didn't say a word, only relived every moment of the slaughter she just witnessed. With a glance at his hands, she saw more blood. She stopped herself from crying again, but when she noticed blood on his chest, she had to ask about it. It wasn't splattered.. The blood was soaking his shirt, as if he himself was hurt.

"Derek?" She tried to search his face for expression, finding little. He was in pain, she knew that, but he seemed so calm.

"What?"

"Are you hurt...?"

He didn't reply for the longest time. She remained silent, not wanting to push him in anyway whatsoever. When he did speak, it was only to tell her he wasn't taking her home, but back to his loft. She never even protested. Never agreed. She just went with him.

When the two got into the loft, Derek immediately began walking to the washroom, saying out loud, "Make yourself comfortable."

With a light sigh, she sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands, closing her eyes. Again, she questioned herself.

I shouldn't be here with him. He's so dangerous... But... He wouldn't hurt me. He never told me he wouldn't hurt anyone else... But why is he so angry? Why did he just go off? He kept his.. condition hidden so well, too well, for years... What else is he hiding?

Hearing a short yell of pain come from the washroom snapped her away from her thoughts, and she found herself by Derek's side just seconds later. She found him leaning on the wall, his claws extended, digging into his own chest.

"What are you doing?!" She shrieked, horrified.

"I- I have to get the bullet out.." he whispered, pain in his voice.

"Bullet? What bullet?!"

"When he shot at you," he gulped, looking down at his chest, "I took the bullet. It hit my lu-ng." His last word was strained heavily as he pushed his clawed fingers in deeper. He felt a hard piece, knowing that it was exactly it when the pain in his chest escalated. He was breathing heavier, his lung pierced.

"Oh my god..." Tears poured down her cheeks. He was shot and it was her fault! "I- I need to help yo-"

"No, just get out. You can't handle this!"

"I need to! Derek, you were shot because of me! You'll pass out soon if you don't get that bullet out; it's amazing you haven't already! Now shut up and let me help you!"

He was silent for a moment, just staring into her eyes. Her random firmness was something he was not used to. Finally, he nodded quickly, shortly. "Get a knife from the kitchen."

She didn't even think, only acted. She came back to him moments later with a short, thin knife. She knew the blade was sharp enough- she tested it out by gently slicing her thumb before running it back to him.

"Wh- what now?"

He was definitely losing much more blood since he messed with the bullet and tore deeper into his lung. "You need to.." he swallowed and blinked, trying to clear his now blurred vision. "Cut through.. Find it..."

She could see the consciousness in his eyes flickering, his eyelids drooping. And with the way he was leaning against the wall, his lower back pressed firmly against it and his shoulders hunched down, she knew he was about to pass out. "Wh- what if I cut to your heart?!"

"JUST DO IT!" He yelled, desperately wanting it all to just be over.

She jumped and nodded, and positioned the tip of the blade where he began digging.

The next twenty minutes were excruciatingly long, but Florence managed to find the bullet and dig it out while Derek kept himself from passing out.

Blood covered her hands and her cheeks were and red from crying, but she did it. He was alive, and she could already see his body healing little by little.

"You need to lye down after this," she said as she cleaned his wounds and the blood around them, oh so gently.

"I'm fine, Florence. You don't-"

"Please," she cut him off, not looking up at him. "I need you to listen to me for once, just once."

He didn't see why, but he agreed anyway. "But you really don't need to worry. I'll heal. I'm more worried about you, to be honest."

"Why? I'm not hurt."

"Not physically. But you're still angry. I can feel it." When she didn't reply, he kept speaking, "Is it because of Kyle?"

"I don't want to talk about this," she whispered, going to the sink to wash her hands.

"We need to."

"Why? Because you said so?"

He frowned, walking up behind her. "You know what, yeah, because I said so. You need to talk about this so I know how to help you."

She let out a grunt of anger and slammed her fists down on the counter, looking up at him. Anger had flooded her eyes, and her voice was loud. "Don't you get it, Derek?! I was raped because I wasn't paying attention! The man I was with was dangerous! And now I'm with you, a killer, a murderer!"

"I did that to pro-!"

"No! That doesn't matter! You are dangerous, Derek, and I never even really knew it! I built up these walls in my head, I turned down every sign that you were capable of killing!" Her eyes were watering and her voice was breaking at this point. "I told myself you're too nice, you're too beautiful, you're too you to hurt anyone, but you- you just killed three men! You used your teeth," tears began to streak down her face, "and you literally tore them apart wi- with your claws! That's not human..." her voice broke, and she looked down, her anger melting away and being replaced with sadness and horror.

Derek was frozen, unable to move after the things she said. He always knew they were true, even before she told him. Still, it hurt...

"You're a werewolf," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "You're a werewolf... Werewolves kill people..."

Derek clenched his jaw and looked down at his shoes, which had blood all over them. "I am a werewolf." His gaze shifted up, and he met her eyes. His irises burned red. "I'm a werewolf, Florence. I always have been. I didn't have a choice, I was born this way. Have I hurt you?"

She had swallowed in fear when she saw his eyes. "N-no..."

"Do you honestly think I will?"

Again, "No."

His eyes faded back to green, and he continued, "I'll tell you something about packs. There's an Alpha, the leader. Then there are the betas. They are beneath the Alpha, and they go with what he says. In a way, it's like a monarchy, only the bonds are close; Pack is stronger than family."

"Ok, so... What are you saying?"

"Beside Alpha and beta, there is another bond. We have mates."

"Like soulmates..?"

"Yes. Only this is.. Stronger.. than that. It's real. There is no separation, no way to break up. Wolves mate for life."

"Ok, but why-"

"You're my mate, Florence."

The air seemed to still, and her body went rigid. They stared into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to speak. Sound was absent in her ears, but he could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

"What...?" She whispered, not believing this. "But.. I'm- I'm not a wolf..."

"You don't have to be."

Her eyes drifted down, trying to fathom the weight of what he was telling her. "Why didn't you tell me...?"

Derek sighed and glanced to the side before looking into her eyes again. "Because I didn't want you to know. If anything ever happened, it would be easier for you to leave. If-"

"Why would I ever leave...?"

Because they always do somehow.

"I don't know... I said just in case."

"Right," she said lowly with a slight frown. "So... Mates.."

"Mates" he repeated, his eyes drifting down.

"What exactly does this mean?"

Derek breathed out through his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair, tilting head head back. "You know how people marry? Well it's like that. Only there is no option of divorce.."

"Oh... So.. I'm stuck with you?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing..."

A smile, miniscule but still a smile, tinted her lips. "It's not. To be honest, I'm happy. I love you... I'm just..." the smile faded, and she seemed more so sad, "I'm afraid of you, Derek. It seems like you're hiding so much from me. I.. I feel like I barely know you at all."

"I know," he whispered, his eyelids lowering. "I'm sorry.. I just- Everything is hard to talk about, you know? I want to tell you things and talk with you, but I can't bring myself to."

"I understand," she mumbled. "I get that.. But we need to talk some day. Not today... I don't think I could handle anymore today."

He smiled softly at that.

"But one other thing...?"

"Hm?"

"Is.. Is Kory a werewolf...?"

His body went rigid. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well... I sort of saw her fighting tonight.. And she definitely wasn't human..."

He sighed lightly and nodded. "Yes, she is."

Her expression was mixed: she looked sad, hurt, betrayed. "How long have you known?"

"Since... Since I met her. I could smell her."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew that if you didn't already know of werewolves, you didn't know that she is one."

"Ok, but why didn't she tell me?"

"Look, Florence... We keep this hidden because it's so dangerous. Just 'knowing' about werewolves could be life-threatening."

"How...?" Fear was in her eyes, but curiosity seemed to overrule it.

"Hunters. They've been hunting our kind for centuries... Most of them go by a code. But some.. Some hunt out of hate, some for fun. They're sick, twisted people that are worse than the so-called 'animals' they kill. Once they find out werewolves are around, they stop at nothing to get rid of them. What's worse is they'd take out humans to get to us. That is why we never told you, Florence."

She continued to stare at him, clearly saddened. When she didn't speak, he asked, "What?"

"You speak as if you have... Experience with these hunters..." she acknowledged this to herself as he spoke, but she didn't dare interrupt him. She didn't even want to say it in the first place, truth be told. There was more she wanted to ask, but her gut twisted at the thought of it. Out of all the times she brought anything about his past up, he was defensive about it. He never gave her insight. It irritated her, to be honest, but of course she would never admit to that. She only wanted him happy... And to her, being that submissive, small girl was how she would please him. But damn it, she thought she was piecing it together! Hunters? He was born a werewolf? That had to tie together somehow...

He never really responded to her observation, but he did notice that look in her eyes, that glare of needing to say something but not having the heart to. "What is it?"

"Nothing..."

"Don't lie to me, Florence," he told her, almost too firmly.

With a light sigh, trying to get rid of the burning, sick feeling she had in her gut, she said, "You know so much about these hunters... You said you were born this way, meaning your family must have been werewolves too."

He sighed and planted his left foot behind himself, leaning back and tilting his head up. It was coming. She was figuring it out, just as he always knew she would. He just didn't think it would be this way. Derek's heart rate accelerated and he felt like throwing up. He didn't want to to talk about this, especially to her, the empathetic, innocent girl. He didn't want to tell her even part of the truth, partially because he knew how she would react, and also because with one piece comes another.

"Yes, Florence,"he sighed, looking down at her, "I was born into a werewolf family. Yes... I have experience with hunters."

Her voice was nothing more than a faint whisper, one so quiet only a werewolf could hear, "How?"

His eyelids lowered as he looked to the ground. "You don't want to know. Trust me... You don't want to know." He turned and began walking away from her, going to the small table.

"Wh- Derek," she said softly, not moving, as he sat down on the table, "don't do this... Just tell me. Now- now I know you weren't kicked out. Something happened... Right?"

His gaze remained fixated on the floor. "Yes."

"What was it...?"

"I told you," he glared up at her, his voice stern, "you don't want to know."

"I do! Stop trying to protect me from everything."

"Florence, this is information you don't need-"

"Bullshit!" She exclaimed, catching him off guard. That was the first time he ever heard her curse. "I do need to know about this, Derek. I need to know your past, I need to know who you are. I have to know more about you so I know what to say and what not to say... I need to know..."

He let a low, quiet growl rumble in his chest, looking to the side. She was right, and he knew it. He always knew it. He just never wanted to do anything about it.

"Why is it," she continued, "you force me to tell you everything, but you never tell me a thing about yourself?"

His gaze snapped back to her. "Because it would crush you! My god, Florence, you couldn't even watch March of the Penguins without crying over the baby penguins dying! We just had to leave the theater because you couldn't stomach a horror film! How the fuck could I tell you something this bad when I know you would have nightmares for weeks and you wouldn't even eat?!"

All she could say was, "You don't have to yell..." She hated it when he raised his voice, especially at her. It's not that his voice was deep, Derek's voice was fairly light, yet still masculine, but he was also loud, overpowering. Maybe it was his broad build, or maybe it was how small she was compared to him. To her, his voice was power.

"Obviously I fucking do! I get that I'm not as sympathetic or soft as you want me to be, I know I'm a secretive asshole but god damn it, Florence, everything I do is to protect you! I protected you from Kyle, I just killed for you! Just fucking trust me on this!" He didn't even realize it, but he had pushed himself off of the table and stalked toward her. She took a step back, but he was still almost body-to-body with her by the time he finished his last sentence.

"O-ok," she whimpered, bending her knees a little to get even lower. God, she was submitting... And as sad as it was, the wolf drew pleasure out of that.

Derek didn't. "Wait," he sighed, taking a small step back. He placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders, her triceps, making her flinch. He kept his hands there and said, "I'm not going to hurt you... You don't need to submit to me."

"Isn't that how it goes in packs?" She asked, her voice quiet and shaky. "The betas submit to the Alpha?"

"Yes... But you're not my beta... You're my mate. You'd be considered almost my full equal in wolf pack terms."

"Then tell me the truth," she whispered, taking her chances at trying for it again. "As your mate, I have the right to know you. All of you."

Fuck... She got him.

Derek sighed and glanced down for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb, index finger and middle finger. It took him a moment to respond, but finally, "Alright... But I need you to sit down."

She nodded lightly, and he guided her to his bed, where she sat down, he next to her.

He exhaled through his mouth, his cheeks puffing up then coming back down. "I don't even know where to start..."

"Just start from the beginning."

Now, did this beginning have Kory in it? No.

"When I was fifteen, I... I met this girl, Paige. I fell in love with her.. And I wanted her to live a long, healthy life like I would, like I will. Werewolves only very rarely get sick, and only by rarer diseases. I wanted her to have the gift that I was born with."

Florence was perplexed; how did this have anything to do with his family? She was silent, listening to every word he spoke.

"I was a beta then, so my bite wouldn't turn her-"

"Beta bites don't turn people...?"

Derek shook his head lightly. "Only Alpha bites do. My uncle, Peter, gave me the idea of asking another Alpha we knew to bite her. I agreed, and.. he bit her. Her body rejected the bite, and..." he exhaled heavily, feeling a deep ache in his chest. "And she died. I- I had to kill her."

Florence's eyes widened as she stared at him. "Why...?"

"She was in so much pain," his voice was lower, strained, as if he was trying to keep it even, "And she wanted me to- I- I made sure she didn't feel any pain..." His eyes cast downward, Derek continued, gently caressing the back of his right hand with his left thumb. "Peter found me and took her body away. My mother came in after... I never told you the meaning of a werewolf's eye color, did I?" When Florence, who already had tears in her eyes, shook her head, he continued, "Every werewolf is born with yellow eyes. It means they are warmer, natural, innocent, maybe. Red, like mine, means the werewolf is an Alpha. My eyes, like any other wolf were once yellow, but... The night Paige died, the night I killed her... My eyes changed from yellow to blue. When a wolf has blue eyes, it means they've taken an innocent life."

Florence's heart was already aching for him; she couldn't even fathom the amount of pain he must have been going through. She was feeling part of it at that moment. "Der, it's not your fault..."she whispered, trying to comfort him.

"Save it, Florence.. I know what I did. I made the decision to ask that Alpha to bite her. I gambled her life."

Small tears slid down her cheeks, but she was silent, just staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

"One particular hunter found out about Paige," he said, scoffing lightly, as if trying to lighten himself up, "and she blamed my mother. She thought she was the one who bit her... I didn't know her. I was really fucked up with what happened with Paige; I was almost... Brain dead, I guess. I didn't care about anything anymore. My grades dropped, I started sleeping around... Till this one woman came to me, the hunter. She was older than me, maybe by seven years. She got close to me... And it turns out she was using me to get information about my pack. I don't know why I told her so much, I don't know why I let her know that they met in the basement during full moons to be together. I shouldn't have, but... I guess I was afraid to lose her." Derek let out a shaky exhale, as if preparing himself to say his next words. "On one full moon night, my older sister, Laura, and I went to the store to pick up some food and drinks for everyone. On our way back, we noticed a lot of police officers, ambulances and fire engines were headed in our house's direction. When we got there, the whole place was up in flames. That bitch... Locked my entire family inside of our own home, our safe haven, and burned it to the ground." Anger was evident in his voice and his body; his voice had a growl to it and his fists were clenched.

Florence could still only stare at him, horrified. Her throat ached and felt as if a rock was stuck in it, and she felt like she was going to throw up. "Did anyone survive...? She asked, her voice so low.

"Only Peter. But I wouldn't call it surviving. He was comatose for six years."

She closed her eyes and more tears poured down her cheeks. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and said, "I'm so sorry, Derek... I'm so, so sorry." God, he could feel her shaking. He could feel the pain in her chest, and all of his came rushing back to him. He grieved quietly while she cried, her arms wrapped around his bicep. Several minutes passed between them, the only sounds her small cries and sniffles.

"Where did you go afterward?"

"Laura and I went to Brooklyn. We lived with an old friend of hers, but that didn't work out too well. We needed our own space. We found jobs, saved up and were eventually able to move into an apartment. We lived there till I was twenty-one."

"Why did you move?" She asked, wiping her eyes. "And where is Laura...?"

Derek closed his eyes, as if keeping himself relaxed and as close to neutral as he could before answering her. "We were a line of pure bred werewolves, meaning we had heirs. So when my mother died, the next Alpha was Laura. She heard of a new werewolf back here in California that was killing people, so he left to find out what was really going on. I had to stay in New York, keep anyone from breaking into our apartment, shit like that. I didn't hear from her for a few days, so I came to California looking for her. I went back to our old house, and I found her... She was in pieces. The werewolf- he ripped her in half and became an Alpha."

"Wh- what... How did he become an Alpha?" She asked, pure pain and sympathy ringing through her voice.

"To become an Alpha, a beta must kill. He killed Laura, taking her power."

"So does that mean you...?"

Derek nodded lightly. "I didn't want to. Florence, I found the werewolf who killed her. It was Peter. He was slowly healing over the years until he had the strength to lure her back and kill her. Once he was an Alpha, he went out for revenge. He killed every single person who was even involved with the fire. When I found him at our old house, we fought, and I won. I didn't want to kill him... But I had to. In the process, I became an Alpha. This happened two years ago."

All she could even say to him was, "Thats... That's horrible..." She felt sick to her stomach and her head hurt, it was too much to take in at once, especially coming from a person she cared for so deeply. "So.. You're an Alpha... Where's your pack?"

Derek's body stiffened.

"I - I'm sorry," she corrected herself. "I shouldn't have as-"

"I had three betas. They were all killed by hunters... They're names were Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd. I was busy with getting the police off our backs- my parents really were millionaires. They stored all of their money underneath Beacon Hills High School, and the day I needed to get some out... There was a dance, but the school was on lockdown. There was a gunman around the school, so when they saw a large man in mostly black walking around the campus.. Let's just say the police didn't react too well. They had me at gunpoint till I allowed them to search me. It took even more of my time to explain what I was doing on the campus. While I was there, my pack was at my house-"

"Here?"

"No... You know that house on the preserve?"

"The- burned one...?" She whispered, her eyes widened. "That's yours?"

He nodded. "The entire property is. While I was held up with the police, another Alpha- he must have lost his pack.. He tried to take them, they wouldn't leave... So he killed them. I came back, and I found them dead."

Her heart broken with sympathy, "How do you know that's what happened? How do you know it wasn't hunters?"

"Because for one, when an Alpha loses his pack, they go mad. If they can't find a new one and fast, they resort to killing. Two-"

"You... You didn't kill anyone though... Right?"

Derek only sighed, looking down. It was a long time before he spoke, the silence burning holes through her chest. "I'm not the hero you've been thinking me to be, Florence... I don't have this amazing sense of control like other werewolves."

"But you hid it from me for two years...!"

"Yes, I did. But after my pack was killed, just a few weeks after I met you, I almost went insane. Yes, I killed people. Werewolves."

"Wh- why other werewolves?!"

His voice was still quiet, but it was obvious he was angry. His eyes and the way he pulled his upper lip up at words gave it away.

"So the hunters wouldn't come after me!" His voice raised at his last words, turning his head toward her. Almost this whole time, his gaze was fixated on the ground; he only looked up at her periodically. He stood, taking a few steps forward, leaving her sitting on the bed. "When my pack was killed, I decided no more. I won't get that close to anyone again, I can't, not again."

"But then you got close to me..."

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "But then I got close to you. When I realized I was pulling us closer.. I tried to just step away. Maybe you remember, maybe you don't, but-"

"Is that why you stopped talking to me for a while...?" She asked, her eyes looking sad.

"Yes... But only because I didn't want to drag you in."

"Into what, Derek? Besides the bad history, what is so bad that could possibly hurt me?"

He stopped and stared into her eyes for a long moment, slowly getting closer and closer to her. "I can hear your heart beating, Florence."

"What does that have to do with anything...?"

Derek crouched in front of her. "When a person feels their heart breaking..." he rested his hand on her chest, over her heart, "I can hear it. It sounds... Heavy, thick. I've been hearing that sound all night tonight."

Her eyes fell to her lap and her brow knitted. "So I'm sympathetic... That doesn't mean anything. I'm not physically hurt."

"Your psychological condition is more important than your physical condition. I would rather see you with a broken arm than a broken heart."

"Why...?"

"Because your arm could heal." Florence just stared down at him when he took her hands in his. "But I know staying away from you now would only make things worse. It's probably relatively impossible too," he added, his voice light. He was met with a small giggle from her. Yes, it was small, but she still laughed.

"No... You're not getting away from me any time soon. And for the record," she said, pulling her hands away from his, "these still hurt." She gestured to her hips, where his claws dug in.

His heart dropped. "I'm sorry, Florence... I just- I didn't... I hadn't had sex in like two years so-"

"Are you saying that's a valid excuse?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No! I was just saying as a wolf, we- sex is a huge thing for us-" He stopped freaking out when he noticed she was laughing. He stared at her in confusion.

"I'm kidding, Der. I understand."

Realizing he was played, he let out a low growl. She simply patted his head and told him not to be such a sour wolf.

"So... Sex is a huge thing for wolves...?" She asked after a moment of silence and thinking. She was no longer giggling, her eyes were more serious.

"Yeah... But it's not something that's really important."

She frowned slightly and tilted her head. "How can it not be important when it's a big deal?"

"It's not for us. We've gotten along fine the past two years-"

"We have... But... You have needs," Florence said, looking down at her lap. Her cheeks were blushed with pink. "And I'm sorry I was drunk before I had the nerve to do anything for you..."

He only shook his head. "It's fine, Florence. I mean I'm not going to die if I d-"

"I'm sorry." She cut him off. "I haven't been meeting your needs, and for that I'm sorry."

"Florence, you were raped," he whispered, resting his hands on her wrist. "I understand that you're not comfortable with doing things because of it."

"That's no reason to hide myself away from you. Yes, I'll admit, I'm afraid, but I'm so... Tired of being afraid. Do you understand?"

He simply nodded, looking into her eyes. A long silence followed, during that time he searched her eyes for clues as to what she was thinking about. She seemed nervous, as if she were trying to work herself up to do something, and she bit her lip softly and shifted her eyes back and forth between his. He finally got his answer when she gently grabbed his face and kissed him.

He instinctively held her wrists and kissed her back, parting his lips lightly. When he felt her grab his shoulders and tug him up, signaling him to move up on her, he could only wonder...

Is she really...?