Sitting on the living room floor, Stiles and I were surrounded by papers and books. Most of them showed diagrams of the structures of the alcohols and other substances we were studying. Oxygenation was the thing we were currently discussing.

Usually, chemistry bored me pretty easily. I had spent most of the lesson earlier that day doodling on a scrap piece of paper rather than listening to what the teacher was saying.

Stiles made it more tolerable though. He made an effort to make jokes and helped me out if I made some sort of mistake, never getting frustrated with my lack of knowlege. I didn't know how any of this would be useful to me in the future anyway.

"So basically pirates were drinking vinegar?" I asked Stiles and he laughed.

"If they'd been at sea long enough, then yes." he replied, grinning. "The alcohol, considering it was in open barrels, would oxygenise with the air and turn to vinegar."

I shuddered slightly. "Yuck," I muttered. The thought of drinking vinegar disgusted me and I had no clue how they had managed it.

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly the door opened and in walked a man whom I assumed to be Stiles' father. He was wearing a sheriff's badge so it was obviously what he worked as.

"Hey," he said, looking between me and Stiles. My eyes automatically turned down to look at the ground.

"Dad... this is um... this is Rebekah." Stiles said awkwardly. "We were just studying."

The Sheriff nodded. "Alright," he replied. I watched his feet as he walked away into the kitchen.

"So... where were we...?" Stiles murmured, looking over the sheets. Then came a knock at the door.

Stiles stood. "Be back in a minute," he told me as he walked to go see who it was. I listened in, unable to help myself.

"Hello... may I help you?" Stiles asked awkwardly.

"You came here with a girl, where is she?" asked an all too familiar voice. My heart fluttered in my chest and my eyes widened slightly. I lurched to my feet, so quick that I was unable to keep it quiet. My feet scuffled on the wooden floor.

"Why do you want to know?" Stiles asked. "Who are you?"

"Move," said the man and there was a sound of scuffling, followed by a crash. I just stood there, frozen with fear, as Stiles' father came rushing from the kitchen and went to aid his son.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" The Sheriff demanded. I could picture him aiming his gun at a large man, around six and a half to seven foot tall and as large as a bull. The man's long, greasy, black hair would be dangling in his blue eyes as they started to glow yellow.

Then came the sound of another crash, followed by a grunt from Sheriff Stilinski.

Suddenly, the door flew open and in charged Cane. His hulking form was suddenly running at me and I nimbly swept around him but only planted myself in a worse off position. Now I was stuck in a corner.

Cane was probably the most dangerous werewolf from my ex-pack. He could break bones as easily as somebody just snapping a twig.

He was dressed fully in black, tattered clothes. His thick-soled, metal-toed combat boots clunked loudly every-time one of his large feet connected with the wooden floor.

Truly, he was terrifying.

All of my hoping had been for nothing, they had not given up the hunt.

Cane glared at me, breathing heavily. "You don't know how long we have been searching for you, runt. You are going to be in a lot of trouble when Rowley gets his hands on you, if I don't kill you first of course."

Rowley was the alpha of the pack. He was smaller than Cane, but far smarter. He was around six foot with reddish-brown hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes.

"Why couldn't you just let me be?" I asked softly, my voice cracking.

"Nobody leaves the pack without Rowley's permission!" Cane snapped. "Especially Omegas!"

There was the sounds of groaning, somebody getting to their feet out in the hallway. Whoever it was was limping heavily. The footsteps sounded too large to be Sheriff Stilinski and there was only one other person out there. Stiles.

"Leave her alone!" came the shout from the vulnerable human boy. "Get out of my house!"

Cane laughed and turned to face him. "Make me!" he snarled, his teeth elongating.

Stiles shifted nervously on his feet, obviously trying to keep the fear from his face. He licked his lips, something I had learned to notice that he only did in times when he was trying to figure out something to say.

Cane took a step towards him and I reached out to grab his thick, trunk of an arm. "No..." I murmured softly, not wanting him to hurt Stiles. Then I flew into the wall, propelled by the force of his fist. My head hit with a crack and my vision blurred. Something wet seeped into my hair.

"Hey!" Stiles growled, taking a step forward. He didn't seem to realize how easily the werewolf in front of him could snap his neck.

Cane began laughing loudly. His laugh had always contained something more, something evil about it.

"No!" I groaned. "Stiles, don't! Just leave it!"

"B-but..." Stiles stammered.

I felt strong hands lift me up as Cane hoisted me onto his shoulder. I didn't struggle, knowing that was pointless and that I would probably get hurt even further. I didn't want Stiles to see that, it may have provoked him to try and become a hero again.

It seemed that he actually hadn't given up yet. He stood in the doorway, arms outstretched to prevent Cane from leaving.

Cane turned, putting my view onto the back wall rather than Stiles. The sound of another thud and a grunt of pain was shortly heard and Cane moved passed the doorway, now clear of the human who had tried to be my savior and failed. He was now lying, slumped against the wall. I just hoped someone had heard and decided to call the cops, they could make sure he was okay.

I closed my eyes and let myself fall completely limp, allowing Cane to carry me away from the house. We hadn't gotten more than a few steps before someone spoke from in front.

"Put. Her. Down."