Chapter 12

Malia had known something was wrong with Scott for months, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Something had changed in him since their return from Mexico. He'd stopped being the alpha he was supposed to be. He included Theo in all of his decisions, and had started fighting with Stiles more and more. Only Liam didn't see a difference, but then, Liam was his brand new shiny beta. Once he'd accepted his werewolf status, he'd looked at Scott like he was the moon. She knew Lydia had started questioning Scott too, but none of them were Malia's concern.

Stiles was her concern. He'd become her closest friend, her boyfriend, and now her anchor. If Scott was hurting Stiles, there was no possible way she could ever trust him. And Theo made her want to rip his throat out every time he looked at any of them.

Malia was going to meet Stiles at the library after school, and was almost there when she smelled the blood. Breaking into a run, she followed the scent to an alley behind the library. She gasped at the sight of Stiles' body lying amongst the filth of the alley.

The scent of his blood was almost overwhelming, but she could still detect the scents of his attackers. Scott and Theo. Both of them had been here. Both of them had laid hands on her anchor.

Sniffing as her eyes flashed blue, she determined that they were gone now.

"Stiles," she called, laying gentle fingers against his neck to feel for a pulse. It was there, but faint. "Stiles, can you hear me?"

Stiles groaned and opened one swollen eye. "I hear you," he croaked.

"I'm going to call an ambulance," she said. "Just hold on."

Stiles reached up with his unbroken arm to grasp her hand. "No. Don't call them. I'll have to answer questions." A coughing fit flecked his lips with blood.

"That's the point," Malia snarled. "You tell them, and they get put in jail."

"They won't." Stiles paused to gasp. "They won't put them in jail. Need you to…take me…to Peter." Stiles panted for air when he finished.

Malia drew back in surprise. Her father? "Why Peter?"

"No time. Please." Stiles' brown eyes met hers, and the pain in them made a shiver run down Malia's spine. He didn't have enough time for her to argue.

"Okay," she said. "Can you tell me the way?"

Stiles quietly rattled off the address, and Malia carefully lifted him into her arms.

…

Banging at the door drew Peter and Phoebe away from their heated game of chess. When Peter opened the door and saw his daughter cradling his potential pack member, a low growl rumbled through his chest.

"What happened," he asked, stepping aside so Malia could enter.

"Scott and Theo," she snapped. "What do you think?" Her eyes flashed. Coyote. Human. Over and over again they flashed. She was going to shift if she didn't regain control.

"Put him in here on the bed," Phoebe called from her room.

Malia's eyes returned to normal as she raced for the bedroom. Once Stiles was laying down, he cracked an eye open. "Thanks, Mal."

Malia sat heavily beside Stiles. "I still don't get why you wanted to be brought here, but if they can help, it's fine."

Her eyes met Peter's stubbornly, challenging him. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Can someone please get me some water and a cloth," Phoebe asked.

Peter went to do as she asked, and Malia took Stiles' hand in hers. "Can I draw his pain?"

"Not yet," Phoebe said. "Wait until I've assessed him."

A fractured jaw. A broken arm. A cracked rib. Scratches on his arms. A deep wound near his throat. The loss of almost too much blood.

An hour later, Phoebe had healed all of Stiles' major wounds, and was letting the minor ones, such as asphalt burn, heal with antiseptic herbal salves. Closing the door behind her, she walked out to the living room where Peter was sitting in his chair and Malia was laying on the couch after taking too much of Stiles' pain.

"He'll need to rest here for the night," Phoebe said. "We can't move him yet."

"I'll stay too," Malia said.

"Can you afford to do that," Peter asked. "Won't they get suspicious?"

Malia snarled, but Peter didn't react other than to raise an eyebrow, and she settled down. Sitting up with a heavy sigh, she nodded before replying in the affirmative. Everyone would be suspicious if she didn't show up tonight, and if she called Lydia for an alibi, she'd have to explain everything, and she still didn't know enough.

"Can you promise he'll be safe here?" Her eyes once again met Peter's, challenging him.

Although the challenge annoyed him, and made him want to flash alpha eyes at her, Peter understood why she was cautious. "I give you my word," he said solemnly, waiting for Malia to test his heartbeat, and his sincerity.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay. If I come back tomorrow and something has happened to him, I won't be responsible for my actions." Something made her check herself just before an outright threat could leave her mouth. Shrugging it off as the weirdness of the day, she stood to check in on Stiles one last time before leaving. He was still sleeping, so she wrote a quick note, and then headed for the door.

. . .

Stiles awoke screaming. Phoebe, already beside his bed, startled awake, almost falling out of her chair. Peter came running into the room, red eyes flashing as he searched for danger. Seeing that there was none, he let his eyes return to normal as he turned on the light.

Stiles had stopped screaming, and was now staring at Peter.

Peter stared back at Stiles.

Phoebe didn't dare move.

Finally, Stiles broke the silence. "So, you're an alpha again."

Peter snorted. "You woke us with your screaming after a nightmare and that's what you want to discuss?"

Stiles nodded. "Well, yeah. That's more important. Mine was just a nightmare. It can't really hurt me. You being an alpha, however…"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles," Peter said, casually leaning back against the wall, giving Stiles some space to process.

Stiles nodded. Peter's actions lately had confirmed that fact. "So, do you need a beta," he asked, only half-joking.

Peter chuckled. "If the beta is you, then yes." Stiles' eyes widened. "But you're in Scott's pack," Peter reminded him.

"Not after what they did today…or yesterday," Stiles amended, looking at the clock and seeing that it was past one in the morning.

Peter and Phoebe glanced at each other. "You don't have to be in a pack, Stiles. You're human," she said.

"I can't unsee what I've seen," Stiles said. "Or undo what I've done. I'm in this world, whether I still like it or not. And I want to stay. I want to keep helping."

The truth rang clear in his heartbeat. This was Stiles' world, as much as Scott's. Maybe more, because Stiles chose to be in it, again and again.

"If you want to be my beta, truly, I would offer you the bite again."

"If I only want to be human," Stiles countered.

"I wouldn't force the bite on you, Stiles," Peter said. "I didn't before, and I have more of my faculties now. If you choose it, you can have the bite."

Stiles nodded in acknowledgement. He wasn't sure why he was considering this, except that lately Peter had proven himself trustworthy where Scott had not.

"Even though I rejected it before," Stiles finally asked, unable to meet Peter's eyes.
"You were right to reject the bite from me before," Peter said, smiling as Stiles' eyes snapped back up to his. "When I bit Scott, I was mad from being trapped in my own mind, mad from the loss of my pack bonds. When Scott rejected me as his alpha over and over, it didn't help any of the madness. You were right to reject the bite from such an alpha. But when I came back with Lydia's help, the help of a banshee, it erased much of the madness. The limited pack bond with Derek as alpha helped to ease it further. Now, I'm an alpha again, but I have a pack, small though it is, and my first pack member is a witch," he said, turning soft eyes to Phoebe.
Stiles' eyes widened marginally at the look, but he composed himself as Peter turned back to him, certain that Peter hadn't even realized he'd looked at her in any special way.

"So, with a witch as my pack member, and a new alpha status not taken from family I was supposed to love, from pack I was supposed to protect...my wolf doesn't feel like it's going insane. Naturally, having my own bitten beta would help, but there's no rush, Stiles."
"But Scott..."
"No, Stiles." Peter cut him off gently but firmly. "Make this decision when you aren't afraid. Decide you want to be my beta at any other time, and I will happily give you the bite. But not when you want to do it out of fear."
"Okay," Stiles said, sinking back into the pillows.

Stiles had acquiesced easily, and Peter knew he'd said the right thing. Stiles wasn't ready yet. He might not be for a while, but Peter was sure one day he'd want to be a wolf. Even if he never wanted to be a wolf, he'd be the best, most loyal pack member Peter could ever want, as long as Peter was the alpha he'd promised to be. And wouldn't that just kick Scott right in the face.
They were all silent for a moment. Phoebe had just decided to get up and make an herbal tea that Stiles could drink to help him sleep more gently, had just started to ease up from her chair when Stiles spoke, and she sat back down to take in his words.
"What if the bite doesn't take?"
"It will," Peter assured him.
"But what if it doesn't," Stiles challenged, locking gazes with his alpha. "I don't want to die."
"You won't die," Peter assured him. "You're too strong. You fought off the Nogitsune, even when it doesn't feel like you did. You survived that. And so much more, as a human."
"Besides," Phoebe said, speaking up for the first time since their conversation had begun. "I'm a witch, and I have a spell that will stabilize your vitals. At the very least that will make you more comfortable, and will give you the necessary strength to let the bite take at worst." Stiles relaxed as she spoke. "I also have a spell to boost your compatibility with the bite of an alpha. It's very dependent on your compatibility with that alpha to begin with, so I also have a spell to check for that." She smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you would be very compatible as Peter's beta, but we can check, Stiles. The boost only works to add ten percent, so if it's anything lower than a seventy-five percent compatibility to start, then Peter won't bite you. But I'm very sure you'll have at least an eighty percent compatibility with Peter's bite. We can check, though. It will be fine, Stiles."

Stiles sighed in relief, nodding to acknowledge her words. "Okay. That's good."

It was settled. With several harsh confrontations that had left him bruised, broken, and bleeding, with gentle care, and promises of protection and strength from a new alpha he was starting to believe he could trust, Scott's oldest friend left his pack to join Peter's.