The night came sooner than I expected. Though really the night comes at the same time. But this time it was a full moon.
My first full moon since I shifted into the form of a woman. I hope I'd get to visit my old form for a few hours. But I wasn't counting on it. I'd only been able to shift back one time successfully and it was only for few minutes.
Scott's pack, and even Derek, worked hard to keep from shifting but I welcomed it. I wanted to lose myself in the shift. The wolf was me. As much as the woman now was.
The moonlight spilled through the canopy of trees, casting silver beams across the forest floor. It was strange seeing it this way—with human eyes instead of the sharp vision of my wolf form. The forest felt different now, more distant, even as the pull of the full moon tugged at something deep within me.
I stood just beyond the edge of Derek's property, the cool night air brushing against my skin. My muscles tensed, my body remembering the freedom of the shift, even if my mind hadn't fully caught up.
Peter approached from behind, his footsteps silent, but his presence unmistakable. "Full moon, Little Wolf. Feels like coming home, doesn't it?"
I nodded, my throat tight with longing. "I don't want to fight it. I want to feel it. To be me again."
He smirked, his usual glint of amusement tinged with something softer. "Most wolves do. You're not like them—Scott, Derek, the others. You don't fear what you are. That's a strength."
"Why do they fight it?" I asked, genuinely curious. "It feels… right."
Peter leaned against a nearby tree, his gaze fixed on the glowing moon above. "Control. Fear. Guilt. Take your pick. Shifting comes with a price for most of us. The more you give in, the more you risk losing yourself."
"But I don't want to lose myself," I said, almost pleading. "I want to find myself."
Peter stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Then stop holding back, Little Wolf. Tonight, don't fight it. Let the moon guide you."
I glanced up at the sky, the moon seeming to pulse with energy, calling to something deep and primal within me. My heartbeat quickened, and a familiar heat spread through my body.
I dropped to my knees, my fingers digging into the earth as I surrendered to the pull. My bones shifted and stretched, the pain sharp but fleeting, replaced by a sense of wholeness I hadn't felt since the change.
The wolf emerged, and this time, I didn't fight it. I let it take over, let myself become what I was meant to be. My senses sharpened, the world coming alive in ways only the wolf could perceive. The wind carried scents from miles away, the rustle of leaves was a symphony, and the ground beneath my paws felt like home.
Peter stood there, watching, his expression unreadable. "Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself.
For a moment, I thought I caught a flicker of something in his eyes—pride, maybe. Or something deeper. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Run," he said simply.
My paws curled into the dirt and I ran, glancing back to see that he was following me. Peter had given in to the moon in his way. Even on two legs, he was able to keep up. I reached the peak, overlooking Beacon Hills. I lifted my head and let out a howl. I heard it echoed by every werewolf in the area.
I felt my body shift back. I stood again, on two legs, and let out another howl. Just as deep, Peter's matched my intensity.
The sound of our howls carried over the hills, blending into the night and weaving a song of freedom and power. For a moment, it felt like the world stood still, the weight of the past lifting as the moon bathed us in its glow. My chest rose and fell, the exhilaration of the run and the shift still buzzing through my veins.
Peter stepped closer, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "You felt it, didn't you? That connection. To the moon. To the wild."
I nodded, breathless. "It's everything I've been missing. Everything I am."
He smiled, not his usual smirk, but something more genuine. "And it's why you're different. The Sigma wolf doesn't just survive alone; they thrive because they embrace what others suppress."
I looked out over the expanse of Beacon Hills, the lights below flickering like fireflies in the dark. "But why me? Why did this happen to me?"
Peter's gaze followed mine, his tone turning thoughtful. "Maybe it was fate. Or maybe it was your strength. You endured where others wouldn't. Whatever the reason, the Sigma is rare for a reason, Little Wolf. You're a force of nature."
I turned to face him, the intensity of his words settling into me like roots. "And what does that mean for me now? For us?"
His lips curled into his signature smirk, though his voice held an edge of sincerity. "It means you don't have to walk this path alone anymore. You're a part of something now, even if you don't see it yet."
For a moment, silence settled between us, the kind that wasn't awkward but comforting, like the quiet between the trees. I took a deep breath, feeling the lingering energy of the shift, the call of the moon still pulsing through me.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For showing me this. For not treating me like something broken."
Peter stepped closer, his eyes locking with mine. "You're far from broken, Little Wolf. You're just beginning to understand what you're capable of. And I'll be here to help you see it."
The vulnerability in his words took me by surprise, but I didn't shy away from it. Instead, I found myself stepping closer to him, drawn by the same magnetic pull I felt the first time I saw him.
"Then don't let me fall," I whispered.
His hand brushed against mine, steady and grounding. "I wouldn't dream of it."
I laced my fingers with his like I'd seen Kira and Scott do when they thought no one was watching. I didn't know anything about this kind of human connection. I just wanted to feel it. More than anything I wanted to feel it with Peter.
My eyes locked with his, searching for permission. Not knowing how to ask.
Peter's expression softened, a rare glimpse of something unguarded in his usually sharp features. His fingers curled around mine, firm but not forceful, as if reassuring me that I could pull away if I wanted. But I didn't want to.
"Little Wolf," he said, his voice lower, quieter than I'd ever heard it, "you don't have to ask."
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest, though I couldn't tell if it was from the run, the shift, or this moment. Maybe all of it. My gaze flicked down to where our hands were joined before returning to his face. His eyes seemed to glow even brighter in the moonlight, reflecting something I couldn't quite name but felt deeply in my core.
"I don't know how to do this," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "This… human thing."
Peter's lips curved into the faintest of smiles, not mocking but understanding. "Neither do I," he said, surprising me. "Not really. But I know what I feel, and I know what I want."
The honesty in his words made my chest tighten, and I felt a surge of courage I didn't know I had. "And what is that?"
He lifted our joined hands slightly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "To show you that this doesn't have to be something you fear. That you don't have to be alone anymore. And maybe…" His eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked more vulnerable than I thought possible. "Maybe you could show me the same."
The weight of his words settled over me, and I realized this wasn't just about me finding my place—it was about him finding his, too. I nodded slowly, leaning into the warmth of his presence.
"Okay," I said softly, the word carrying more meaning than I could express.
Peter's smile deepened, and without breaking our gaze, he lifted my hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against my knuckles. It was a simple gesture, yet it ignited something in me that had nothing to do with the moon or the wolf. It was human. And it felt right.
I wasn't afraid of this part of myself. Not with him.
I placed my hand on his face my thumb tracing his cheek, really seeing him for who he is. He was handsome, but I had limited experience with humans, I had nothing to compare him to. But I knew he was. I moistened my lips as I stepped up on my toes. My lips brushed lightly against his.
Peter's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to fall away. His hands, strong but careful, came to rest on my waist as though anchoring me to this moment. He didn't pull me closer, nor did he push me away. He simply let me choose.
When I pressed my lips more firmly against his, he responded in kind, the kiss slow and deliberate. It wasn't the fiery passion I'd imagined from someone like Peter, but something far deeper, more meaningful. He was letting me lead, meeting me where I was.
My heart raced, not from fear, but from the thrill of something new, something that felt like it had been building since the moment I first met him.
"I don't know what this means," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It means whatever you want it to mean, Little Wolf," he replied, his tone gentle, yet tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "We don't have to define it now. We'll figure it out."
I nodded, unsure of what to say but grateful for his patience. My thumb continued to trace along his cheek, memorizing the feel of him, the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his presence.
"Thank you," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was thanking him for the kiss, for his understanding, or for something much bigger. Maybe all of it.
Peter's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "For what?"
"For not making me feel… lost."
His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You're not lost anymore. You're with me."
We walked through the woods, our fingers intertwined, the connection grounding me in a way I hadn't expected. The wild, untamed energy of the forest clung to my skin, a sharp contrast to the sleek, polished lines of Peter's car waiting at the edge of the trees. The transition felt almost jarring, like stepping between two worlds I wasn't sure how to reconcile.
A low rumble from my stomach broke the quiet, and I let out a sheepish laugh. "Maybe I should've spent more time hunting as a wolf."
Peter's lips curved into an amused smile, his gaze flicking to mine. "Hunger catches up to all of us, Little Wolf. Though I think you'll find the food waiting in town a bit more civilized." He unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for me. "But lucky for you, I know a spot that serves food a bit more… refined."
I slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against my skin. As Peter got in and started the car, the hum of the engine seemed to echo the tension I still felt in the pit of my stomach. Not just from hunger but from the lingering warmth of our shared moment in the woods.
He glanced at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "What are you in the mood for, Little Wolf? Burgers? Pizza? Or something a bit fancier?"
I considered his question, the growling of my stomach deciding for me. "Something quick. I don't think I can wait too long."
"Burgers it is," he said with a smirk, pulling onto the road. "There's a place not far from here. Best burgers in Beacon Hills."
I leaned back in my seat, the feel of soft leather cool against my bare skin. The hum of the car and the distant glow of the town lights soothed me. It was strange how much I'd come to trust Peter in such a short time. Strange, but not unwelcome.
"Do you come out here often?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"To the woods?" he replied, glancing at me briefly before turning back to the road. "Not as much as I used to. It's harder now. The memories… they can be overwhelming."
I nodded, understanding more than I could put into words. "I think I get it. The woods feel like home, but also… like something's missing."
Peter's smile softened, his usual bravado giving way to something quieter. "Exactly." He reached over, his hand briefly brushing against mine. "But maybe it's not about going back to what was. Maybe it's about finding something new."
His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning I wasn't quite ready to unpack. For now, all I could focus on was the road ahead, the promise of food, and the strange comfort I felt being with him.
"I almost forgot," Peter smirked, his eyes flicking toward me before reaching into the back seat to grab a t-shirt. He handed it to me, his movements casual, but his gaze lingered just a moment longer than necessary. I slipped it on, the fabric brushing against my skin, and for the first time, I became acutely aware of my nudity.
A warmth stirred low in my belly, unfamiliar and intense, spreading like wildfire through me. It was a hunger of a different kind, one I didn't have the words to explain. I glanced at Peter, unsure if I should say anything—or if he already knew. His smirk softened as though he could sense my hesitation, but he said nothing, leaving me to wrestle with the sensation in silence.
"Your usual?" Peter asked softly, glancing at me as he pulled into the lot of Hog Wild. The smell of charred meat and tangy sauce wafted through the air, making my mouth water. The place specialized in greasy burgers, barbecue, and my personal favorite—greasy burgers smothered in barbecue. I nodded, unable to suppress a small smile.
I watched him as he stepped out of the car and strode inside to order. His confidence was effortless, the way he moved both commanding and casual. My thoughts drifting to unfamiliar territory.
Did I want something more from him? I think I did. But I wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant—or if he wanted it too. I drew in a deep breath, willing my scattered thoughts to settle. I was overthinking, I told myself, a very human trait I seemed to be picking up far too quickly.
I took the bag of food from him as he slid back into the car, the scent of salty fries and smoky barbecue filling the air. It was exactly the distraction I needed. Without hesitation, I reached in, grabbed a fry, and popped it into my mouth. The burst of savory, greasy flavor made my eyes flutter closed as I savored the euphoric taste.
"I'm almost jealous," Peter remarked, smirking as he pulled the car out of the lot, his tone light but teasing.
"Of the fries?" I asked, glancing at him with a raised brow, though I couldn't stop myself from grabbing another.
"Of how happy they make you," he quipped, his smirk softening into something warmer.
"They are that good," I said, savoring another fry before glancing out the window. The forest gave way to the quiet outskirts of town. "Where are you taking me?"
"My place," he replied, his voice steady and certain. "Derek's extra broody on the night of the full moon. I didn't want you to suffer through that."
I shifted in my seat, surprised by his answer. I knew Peter had his own place, but I'd never been there before. The idea of seeing it—seeing him in his own space—stirred a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.
"What's wrong with broody?" I teased lightly, trying to mask my curiosity.
Peter smirked. "You're about to find out what it's like to be around someone who isn't." His tone was playful, but there was something else beneath it, something more inviting.
The car turned down a winding road lined with trees that seemed to close in around us, their branches illuminated in the headlights. My heart beat a little faster. His world felt secluded, private, like a part of him he didn't share with just anyone.
When the car finally stopped, I stepped out into the cool night air. His place wasn't what I expected. It wasn't flashy or overly modern. It was a rustic cabin tucked into the woods, surrounded by tall pines. The scent of earth and pine needles mingled with the faintest trace of him—distinct, warm, and familiar.
"This is it," Peter said, his voice low, almost casual, but I caught the hint of pride there too.
I took a step closer, peering up at the dark windows. "It's... peaceful," I said, my voice softer than I intended.
He held the door open for me, gesturing for me to go inside. The cabin was just as surprising as the outside—simple, yet thoughtfully arranged. A bookshelf lined one wall, filled with a mix of old leather-bound books and newer ones with cracked spines. The furniture was understated but comfortable. A large stone fireplace dominated one side of the room, unlit but ready.
"You've been holding out on me," I said, turning to him with a small smile.
Peter shrugged, setting the bag of food on the table. "I told you, it's just a place. A space to think."
But it felt like more than that. The air here carried a sense of him—calculated, controlled, yet undeniably present.
He motioned toward the couch. "Sit. Eat. You're going to need your strength."
"For what?"
Peter's smirk deepened as he handed me the food. "For getting to know me better. You wanted the unfiltered truth, didn't you?"
I settled into the couch, the fire crackling to life as Peter lit it with ease. The warmth spread through the room, and for the first time in a long time, I felt... comfortable.
This wasn't just Peter's place. It was his sanctuary, and now, for the night at least, it felt like mine too.
"I'm ready," I tucked my feet under me and watched him more intensely than I had before. I focused on the flex of his muscles beneath the v-neck shirt he wore. The steady way his heartbeat in his chest. The sound of his breath. It all caused that warmth I felt to build again.
Peter's eyes met mine, the weight of the moment settling between us. There was a quiet understanding, an unspoken agreement in the air that neither of us could ignore. He didn't rush, didn't push. He simply waited, as if giving me space to figure out what I truly wanted. But I knew what I wanted. I just wasn't sure if I was ready to admit it, or if I could.
His lips parted slightly, and I noticed the subtle shift in his posture. The air in the room thickened, charged with something more than the weight of words. "Are you sure?" Peter asked, his voice low, husky.
I didn't answer with words. Instead, I slowly leaned forward, closing the distance between us. The warmth I felt earlier swelled in my chest and lower, a slow-burning that matched the heat in his gaze. The moment felt fragile, like a breath held too long, but I didn't want it to end.
When my hand brushed against his arm, I felt a surge of electricity pass between us. He didn't pull back, didn't hesitate. Instead, he leaned into me, the air between us heavy with anticipation.
The scent of him, that intoxicating mix of earth and something darker, wrapped around me, pulling me closer. I couldn't stop myself. My fingers traced the line of his jaw, and he inhaled sharply, his eyes darkening with a mixture of hunger and restraint.
I was no longer thinking. There was just the need, the pull between us, undeniable and raw.
Peter didn't hesitate this time. His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss was soft at first, testing, tasting. But as soon as I responded, it deepened—more urgent, more desperate.
His free hand cupped the back of my neck, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss, and I surrendered to it completely. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Peter's breath hitched against my lips as his hands explored, moving with deliberate intent, like he was trying to learn every inch of me. His fingers brushed over the curve of my hips, making me shiver, the sensation electric. The contact felt almost like a discovery—each touch, each movement drawing out a response I couldn't control.
I wanted him closer, wanted to feel more of him, all of him, but the moment felt almost too perfect. There was something between us, something I couldn't name, but it was pulling me toward him. I reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling as I pulled it over his head, revealing the warmth of his skin beneath.
The space between us was gone, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. All that existed was the heat, the connection we were sharing now. I could feel his heart beating against mine, the rhythm steady and sure.
Peter's gaze flickered down to me, a hint of something darker in his eyes as his hands moved lower, tracing the lines of my body with a sense of purpose. I let out a soft gasp as his touch sent waves of heat through me.
I wasn't sure what we were becoming, all that mattered was the sensation of him, the feeling of his skin, the warmth of his breath, and the undeniable pull between us.
He kept the right pressure, the right touch with just his fingertips. Prolonging the touch like it was an art form. His fingers traveled my torso over every inch of my skin. My delicate sides, my chest. He traced the soft skin under my breasts and circled my belly button. Teased my nipples, and traced lines around my areola. The gentlest touch on each nipple, each hardening in response. My breathing was shallow, chest rising with each sensual touch.
"You like that, Little Wolf?" Peter asked already knowing the answer.
Peter's voice was low and smooth, the deep timbre sending a shiver down my spine. My body responded to him with an intensity I didn't fully understand but didn't want to resist. My lips parted, but words wouldn't form, only a soft, breathless sound escaped me.
His smirk deepened, his confidence palpable as his hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration. He moved with a precision that felt almost predatory, yet there was tenderness in the way he touched me, like he was savoring every reaction, every moment.
"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against my collarbone before trailing a path lower. Each kiss ignited a fire that spread through me, warming every part of my being. I felt utterly consumed by him, by the way he made me feel seen, felt, and wanted in ways I never thought possible.
"Peter…" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper, unsure if I was asking him to continue or slow down. He paused, his hands stilling for just a moment as his piercing eyes met mine.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said softly, his voice edged with restraint, even as his hands lingered against my heated skin. "I'll only take this as far as you want, Little Wolf."
The sincerity in his gaze steadied me, grounding me in the moment. I lifted my hand to his face, my fingers brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw. "I don't want you to stop," I whispered, the words carrying more weight than I realized.
Slow incredibly slow, his fingers move along my inner thigh. My breathing more rapid as I feel the heat building deep inside. My body arched inviting more, aching for more. His fingers trace higher.
All my nerves were on edge. I'd never felt anything like this before. My knees fell apart as his fingers brushed the junction of my thighs. I let out a moan as he slips in further. He kept exploring even as I let out a deep moan.
Peter's movements were deliberate like he was taking his time to memorize every inch of me, every reaction. His touch sent ripples of electricity through my body, each one building on the last, leaving me trembling and breathless.
"You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice low and husky, the sound alone sending another wave of heat through me. "I could spend all night just exploring you."
His fingers moved with an almost maddening slowness, teasing and testing, drawing out every sensation until I thought I might come undone. My body arched instinctively, seeking more, craving more. Every inch of me was alive with sensation, my skin flushed and sensitive to his every touch.
"Peter…" I gasped, my voice barely audible, a plea I couldn't fully articulate. His smirk returned, that knowing, confident curve of his lips that only made the fire inside me burn hotter.
"Patience, Little Wolf," he whispered, his tone both playful and commanding. "Let me show you how good this can feel."
His fingers continued their exploration, finding places I hadn't even known could feel this way. My breaths came quicker, my moans spilling freely now as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb teased the sensitive bundle of nerves with slow, deliberate circles while one finger, then another, slid inside me. The stretch was perfect, his movements skilled and steady, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
The intensity built quickly, almost too much to bear. My head fell back as the heat inside me coiled tighter and tighter. My nails raked across his back, digging into his skin as the tension finally shattered. I cried out, my release washing over me in a flood of ecstasy more powerful than I'd ever imagined.
"That's only the beginning," he murmured against my ear, his voice a low, tantalizing promise. His fingers didn't stop, moving with a deliberate rhythm, coaxing yet another surge of pleasure from my already trembling body.
Peter's lips found the sensitive spot below my ear, and a shiver ran through me. His breath was hot against my skin, and for a moment, everything felt surreal. My body was still humming from the aftermath of his touch, and yet I craved more—not just the physical connection but him all of him.
"You're incredible," he whispered, his hands now gently caressing my sides. He pulled back slightly to meet my gaze, his eyes smoldering with a mix of desire and tenderness. "You don't even know how strong you are, do you?"
His words struck something deep within me. Peter had a way of seeing me, not just as a wolf or a woman but as something in between—something unique. I let out a soft laugh, brushing my fingers across his jawline. "You make me feel strong," I admitted, my voice barely audible.
He gave me a small smile, one that was almost vulnerable, and it made my heart ache in a way I didn't quite understand. "Good. You deserve to feel that way." He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that felt both possessive and reverent.
As the moment lingered, a distant howl echoed through the night, pulling us both out of our bubble. I stiffened slightly, instinctively tuning into the sound. It wasn't a threat, but it was a reminder of the world beyond this moment—of the pack, the hunters, and everything that still loomed over us.
Peter sighed, brushing his thumb along my cheek. "The night isn't over, Little Wolf. But maybe we should take a break before your instincts pull you back into the wild."
"What happens now?" I asked, my voice quiet.
Peter's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with something I couldn't quite read. "Now, we figure out how to make you unstoppable. A Sigma who can protect what's hers—and take back what's been stolen."
The weight of his words settled over me, and I knew he wasn't just talking about me. He was talking about the Hales, about our shared pain, and about the hunters who'd taken so much from both of us. My heart pounded as I nodded, the resolve in me hardening.
"Then show me," I said, meeting his gaze. "Show me how to do that."
