Chapter 17
After Stiles and Malia left, Phoebe went to check on Lydia again. The girl was still sleeping peacefully in her bed. Sighing in relief, Phoebe took her pajamas into the bathroom and changed before brushing her teeth and washing her face. When she was finished, she walked back into the living room.
"Are you hungry," Peter asked from the kitchen.
Phoebe shook her head. Truthfully, she felt a bit sick. "No thank you."
Peter nodded, accepting her answer as he quickly made and ate a sandwich. Walking into his bedroom, Peter brushed his teeth and cleaned up in his en suite bathroom, changing into a t-shirt and pajama pants, and putting his ripped and bloody clothes in the hamper. When he finished, he walked back into the living room to see Phoebe curled up in her chair, arms wrapped around her middle. Sweat had broken out on her forehead, and she did not look well.
"Phoebe?" Leaning over, he gently placed a hand on her brow, relieved to find she did not have a fever.
"I'm all right," she said softly. "I think I just overdid it."
"What does it feel like," Peter asked.
"I just feel a bit weak," Phoebe replied.
Peter stood, but before Phoebe could mourn the loss of the pack touch that was making her feel a bit better, he leaned down and picked her up in his arms.
"What're you doing," she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck as he walked into his bedroom.
"We're going to bed," Peter replied, gently placing her on the bed. "Since Lydia is in your room, you can sleep here tonight."
He stepped back, gauging Phoebe's reaction. She was blushing, of course, but her head was tilted and she considered him. "I can sleep on the couch," she said.
Peter shook her head. "My bed is big enough for both of us, unless it truly makes you uncomfortable."
The thought did not make her uncomfortable. Rather, it made her feel safe. After everything that had happened since she'd returned to Beacon Hills, and especially everything that had happened in the past few weeks with Stiles and now Lydia being hurt, she wanted to feel safe. But she remained silent, still considering. Did she trust Peter enough to sleep next to him, even in a bed this large? Finally, she nodded slightly, as though to herself.
"Okay."
Peter helped her under the covers before turning off the light and sliding in on the other side. Both of the bedside lamps were on, and they cast a soft glow over the faces of the occupants of the bed. Phoebe relaxed into her pillows, but remained staunchly on her side of the bed. Peter reclined back, closer to the middle, but far enough away to give her space.
"Are you okay," Peter asked, frowning when Phoebe winced as she shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"I think so," she answered. "I got so tired once we'd cleared Eichen House, and it was almost a struggle to heal Lydia. And now I feel queasy and there's an ache that I can't pinpoint. It's weird. I just don't understand it."
"Ah," Peter said, frowning. "I may be able to explain that."
Phoebe's eyebrow rose as she looked at him from across the pillows. "Can you?" There was a small challenge in her voice, like there had been when he'd told her she could stay here. Some part of her was still wary of him.
"It's because of the bond," Peter said. "I meant to speak with you about it before, but then we had to get Lydia out of Eichen House. Somehow while we were taking care of Stiles when he got hurt, the pack bond tried to form the beginnings of a mate bond."
"But for that, don't we have to…" Phoebe blushed and looked around nervously, as though seeing the large bed for the first time.
Peter shook his head. "Not for the beginnings. There is a courtship period, which can last as long as we need it to, years even."
"Oh." Phoebe took a moment to respond. "So because we were so united in taking care of Stiles, we started a new bond?"
Peter nodded. "Yes." He paused to clear his throat. "If you still think a mate bond is a good idea someday, we should think about formalizing the beginning of the bond. The rest can take its time, but we can't leave it in limbo or it will continue to negatively affect both of us until we make a decision."
Phoebe tilted her head, considering. Being an alpha's mate was a big deal. Did she still want that? It would give her more power, more status. It would also make her dependent on Peter, but it would make him dependent on her too.
"I still want that if you do," she finally said. "Beacon Hills could be ours."
The idea was endlessly appealing. "That sounds wonderful," Peter said, delighted at her phrasing.
"So, how do we formalize the beginning," Phoebe asked shyly.
Peter smiled, leaning across the bed. "Like this," he said, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. It lasted only a few seconds before he drew back, gauging her reaction.
She had closed her eyes, and a soft smile made her eyes crinkle as she opened them.
"Will you be my mate," Peter asked, gently cupping her cheek. "Will you be this alpha's mate?"
"Yes." Phoebe wanted to say more, to ask questions, but she could only get the one word out before the bond inside her changed, adding strength to her magic. The weakness she'd felt earlier dissipated and she gasped. "Did you feel that?"
"I did," Peter confirmed. The weakness in his own limbs had disappeared as well, leaving him feeling stronger than he had since before he'd died the first time.
Phoebe grinned, and Peter smiled back, feeling the new bond settle between them. Laying back down, and lifting an arm, Peter turned his head toward her. "Would you like to lay closer?"
Phoebe hesitated a moment. "Just sleep tonight," she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Just sleep," he confirmed, meeting her gaze steadily.
Phoebe scooted closer and rested tentatively against his chest. Peter's arm came around her and brought her closer. She sucked in a breath, but relaxed against his warmth. Her arm came around his chest, and she laid her head over his heart. Peter held her tighter, dipping his head to rest his cheek against her hair. The bond reacted to their closeness, settling deeper.
Feeling safe and content, Phoebe quickly drifted off to sleep. Peter was awake a while longer, wondering at the feeling inside of him. He enjoyed having her in his arms, in his life, and, if he was honest, he no longer relished the thought of manipulating her to get what he wanted from Scott's pack. He would, if he had to, but part of him now hoped that he wouldn't have to.
Her presence here had changed everything, in more ways than one.
