Mischief and Chaos Chapter 6: The Mate and the Family, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Mischief and Chaos || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf

Title: Mischief and Chaos – The Spark and the Void

Tags: m/m, canon divergence, Nogitsune Stiles, Spark Stiles, Pack Alpha Peter, True Mates, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, fluff, explicit intercourse, oral, m/f

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Chris/Sheriff

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Noah Stilinski, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Danny Mahealani, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Claudia Stilinski, Vernon Boyd II, Anita Boyd, Alicia Boyd

Summary: Stiles' mom is dying and in an attempt to run away from it all, he ends up at a clearing with a cut-down tree that talks to him. He makes a deal with a dark fox to ease his mother's mind and gains a life-long companion for it. And then there's this new girl at school, Allison, who decides to be his friend. His life unfolds a little different from thereon out.

Mischief and Chaos

The Spark and the Void

Part 6: The Mate and the Family

When Stiles was seven years old, he met a magic tree and learned about his own magic.

When Stiles was eight years old, he met a demon fox and lost his mom.

When Stiles was nine years old, he got a second dad and a sister.

When Stiles was ten years old, he met and lost his soulmate and started gathering a pack.

When Stiles was eleven years old, he fell into a brief coma that he got to spend with his soulmate and then told his dads the truth, resulting in Chris training him, Allison and the rest of their pack in basic self-defense.

When Stiles was twelve years old, Allison declared herself his Left Hand, after having learned how to use a bow and arrows, determined to defend and protect their pack.

When Stiles was thirteen years old, he kissed Danny on the mouth, because his stupid soulmate kept being in a coma and Stiles was just a teenage boy and Danny was sweet and cute and he refused to wait forever. If Peter didn't want him kissing others, then Peter should finally wake up.

When Stiles was fourteen years old, him and Danny agreed that they were better off as friends. Boyd and Erica started dating, after staring longingly at each other for about two years at that point and the whole pack cheered for them.

When Stiles was fifteen years old, their pack entered high school, together. Erica hadn't gone to the same elementary school as them, while Boyd and Danny had gone to a different middle school as the others. He'd tried to get a buzz cut to signify this huge change in their lives ("If you shave off your hair, I will scream so loudly that your eardrums will burst, Stiles," Lydia had very effectively threatened).

Life was good. Things were really, really good. Lydia and Stiles were top of all of their classes and Stiles got to have a member of his pack with him at all times. Jackson was captain of the lacrosse team and Danny, Boyd and Stiles had all signed up too. Allison was trying to get an archery club going, but wasn't overly successful so far. They thought she may have more luck the next year, when Alicia would enter high school too, because that girl took to archery nearly as well as Allison. But then the hero-worship also helped; Alicia had always admired Allison the most.

When Stiles was sixteen years old, his soulmate woke up from his coma.

It was the night before Stiles' sophomore year. Lydia had already picked out everyone's outfits (first impressions were important, so she insisted on coordinating everyone's outfits for the first day of school, every year). He'd gone to visit Peter to tell his soulmate about how exited he was that their whole pack would finally be attending the same school, now that Alicia would also be starting high school. But when he entered Peter's room, it was… empty.

"He's gone, dad, he's gone," Stiles' voice was frantic, panic rising in his chest.

"Stiles, calm down, what's going on? Who's gone?" Chris asked on the other end of the line.

He couldn't reach Noah, because the sheriff was at work. But Chris always picked up. He still did independent contracts, and he had promised Stiles and the pack that he would always pick up when they called. He didn't want them to do dangerous or reckless things alone, he wanted them to know there was an adult they could always reach for help. Noah was grateful for it, because that allowed him less worry, though Stiles knew that if he'd call the sheriff at work, Noah would pick up too.

"Peter," Stiles pressed out between ragged breaths. "He's gone. What if he died. What if he died and… and nobody told me, because why would they tell me, I'm nobody to him. I lost him and I-"

"Stiles, I need you to focus," Chris' voice was sharp. "Can you still feel your matebond to him?"

Stiles froze and searched within himself, before relief flooded him. "Y… Yeah. Yes. I can. So he's not dead. Okay. Okay, good. But… But where is he then?"

There was a stretch of silence and Chris sounded reluctant when he spoke. "Maybe he woke up."

This time, when Stiles froze, he truly stopped moving. Didn't even breath. He stared unblinkingly out of the open hospital window. Woke up? The… The thought hadn't even crossed Stiles' mind as a possibility. Six years. Peter had been in a coma for six years now. Somewhere around dating Danny for six months, Stiles had given up hope that his soulmate would ever wake up.

Slowly, he blinked, and his eyes focused on the open window. Wait. Had his soulmate woken up and just… bolted out of the window? Stiles scrambled over to look out.

Void was cackling in the back of Stiles' mind. Glorious chaos. Let us follow him.

Stiles breathed deep, unbeknownst to him his eyes were black and silver in that moment, as the scent of chaos filled his senses and Void got to take over just a little bit.

"Oh Peter, what are you doing?" Stiles whispered softly.

"Stiles, what are you talking about? What's going on? Stiles," Chris sounded frantic.

"Sorry, dad, gotta go," Stiles grinned with too sharp teeth, heart racing. "I got a mate to hunt down."

/break\

Peter woke up alone. It took him a few minutes to orient himself. He was in a hospital. It was dark outside. He was alone. Tilting his head, he picked up a stuffed toy fox that sat next to him on the bed. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. A calming and familiar scent of honey and lightning filled his senses. Mate. Mine.

Looking around, he saw the clutter everywhere. On the shelves, the table, the windowsill, the nightstand. Flowers, trinkets, cards. So many cards. Peter stood on unsure legs and walked over to look at the cards. Christmas, birthday. Multiple cards for each occasion. One signed by Stiles and something about that name resonated with Peter, the other signed by a group of people, signed by 'your pack' with a list of names that meant anything to him. Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Boyd, Erica, Alicia. He didn't know these people and yet there were birthday wishes from them, cards signed by these strangers, claiming them to be his pack.

None from his family. Flames and screams and pain echoed in his mind. No family left. Only him.

His eyes landed on the toy fox. Him and his mate. Stiles. He tilted his head. Six years, tracking back birthdays and Christmases. He'd been in a coma for six years and Stiles had been at his side this entire time. The others had joined later, but the oldest cards were all exclusively from Stiles.

Six years. What had woken him now? He frowned as he turned around, toward the window. There was a faint scent, something that made his nose itch, that had woken his wolf. Opening the window, he let air into the room and inhaled deeply.

His eyes flashed as the scent hit him. Werewolf. Alpha. He bared his fangs in a snarl. He grabbed the window frame and hauled himself onto the windowsill to jump out of it.

There was a foreign Alpha on their territory. His Alpha wasn't a werewolf, his Alpha was something else – fox, the scent of honey and lightning had been laced with fox. There were no wolves in their pack. Only humans. He knew that, in the back of his mind, like someone had whispered it to him but he couldn't remember the conversation.

There were no wolves on their territory. Especially no Alpha wolves.

He'd been the Left Hand of his old pack and he was the Alpha Mate of this pack (even if he hadn't met them yet, didn't know them, they had been here for him, had been waiting for him, had protected and cherished his mate while he couldn't, so he would protect them. They were his now).

He leaped and then he ran, letting his beta-shift take over as he hunted. When he found the source of the scent, he attacked without hesitation. Thoughts still came hard, instincts came easy.

The instinct to protect his mate, protect his Alpha, protect his pack, protect his territory.

An Alpha werewolf posed a threat to them and Peter couldn't lose them, he'd already lost a pack, he couldn't lose another. Couldn't lose his mate. The fear that gripped his heart at the thought of what a rogue Alpha could do to them gave him a boost of energy and strength as he tore into the Alpha.

He fought to protect, until the Alpha stopped moving, until the warm blood dripping down Peter's chin started cooling, until the threat was gone. Until his mate and pack were safe.

Rustling in the bushes behind him caught his attention. He tensed, snarl on his face, ready to attack whoever was trying to ambush him. A low growl built in his chest. Before he could react did something tackle him. Small and quick. He stumbled onto the ground in surprise, with his attacker sitting hunched on his chest, staring down at him with black and silver eyes.

Pale skin, near glowing in the moonlight, dark hair softly falling into his face, curling a little around his neck. Out of the dark hair were two triangular black poking. His eyes were what kept Peter frozen to the spot though. Black eyeballs and silver irises. He'd never seen eyes like those, never faced a predator that made him freeze up like that. Werewolves had only very few natural predators, this one felt like a predator. Behind the boy was a fan of shadows, only that they were moving in the air. The closer Peter looked, the more distinct did the shadows seem. Like… tails. But so many.

The boy hissed at him and bared long, thin fangs in a snarl. "What have you done, Peter?"

His mind and senses were still sluggish and only now did the boy's scent hit him. Peter's eyes widened at the sweetest honey and the foreboding scent of a brewing lightning storm overcame him. It was delicious and dangerous and his. This dangerous creature on him was his mate.

He'd wondered. The beautiful scent that had carried him through these past six years, the soothing scent of his mate. He'd wondered what his mate looked like, but not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined someone so powerful and beautiful. Peter was left stunned into silence, simply staring at the miracle above him, trying to memorize every little detail, every mole on pale skin.

The shadow fox seemed not impressed by his silence and snarled again, sharp claws pressing against Peter's chest where the boy supported himself. Near on reflex did Peter bear his throat to his angry Alpha. That seemed to shock the fox enough to make him stop snarling.

"Danger," Peter forced the word out, because words seemed so hard, he hadn't used them in six years, hadn't need them. "Rogue Alpha in our territory. I needed to… needed to protect."

The fox's face softened at that and oh he was so beautiful. Peter's mate was beautiful. All these years of thinking he may not have a mate at all, after Talia and even Aaron had found theirs, but here he was. All Peter's and more powerful and frightening and mesmerizing than Peter could have ever hoped. He was perfect and Peter would be happy to just stare at him for hours.

"Okay," his fox whispered gently, cupping Peter's face with his hands. "It's okay. You took out the threat. You did good, wolf. You did good."

He leaned over Peter until their foreheads rested against each other and it was the most overwhelming feeling Peter had ever experienced. His mate, gently holding his face, soft skin against his. The bond that had formed years ago, when Peter had caught one brief glimpse of a small figure outside his burning house, was finally allowed to fully bloom and it was all consuming. Peter's eyelids fluttered shut as he gave himself to the sensation.

"Mine," Peter murmured, relaxed and soft.

"Yours," his fox agreed, slowly adjusting himself to nuzzle into Peter's neck. "Mine."

Laughter bubbled in Peter's chest. "Only yours, my little fox."

His mate gave a pleased little noise at that and continued nuzzling him. Licking. A soft tongue was placing kitten licks along Peter's throat, the fox both grooming and scent-marking him. Peter kept running his hands all over his mate, wanting to cover the fox in his scent too. His mate.

A buzzing noise disturbed them and Peter growled on instinct. His fox patted Peter's chest in a near placating way that somehow still managed to calm the wolf. Then he got something out his pants.

"Stiles, where the hell are you? I came to the hospital after your call but you're not here. Tell me you didn't do anything reckless like run off all on your own without backup."

His mate – Stiles – pursed his lips. "Okay, dad. I won't tell you that then."

Stiles. His fox's name was Stiles. The name on the cards. The name… He'd heard it before. Peter frowned as a memory came to his mind, of a young boy stuck in a tree, of himself, young and cheeky, teasing his mate and making promises. No. That wasn't right. His mate was young, clearly they couldn't have been childhood friends. And he would have known too then, the first time he'd laid eyes on his mate. There was no way he would have lost touch with his mate if they had been friends that long. He clutched his head in confusion.

"Hey," Stiles whispered concerned. "You okay?"

"No, Stiles, I am not okay! Where are you?"

"Wasn't talking to you, dad," Stiles rolled his eyes, before his gaze landed on the Alpha's body. "Uhm. Actually. Maybe you should… come and get us. And before you leave the hospital, maybe take a body bag with you…?"

"A what?!" Stiles' father sounded understandably outraged at that. "Stiles, what the hell have you been up to? Tell me you're alright."

"I'm fine," Stiles' voice was even and reassuring. "I'm with Peter. But he seems to have run into trouble before I found him. Please just… come and get us? Find my phone?"

A heavy sigh. "I'm on my way. I love you, kiddo, okay? Stay safe."

A soft grin spread over Stiles' lips before he pocketed the phone and then just sprawled out on top of Peter, using the wolf as his personal pillow. Peter made a pleased noise and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist. This was nice. He could get used to this. The warm, soft weight of his mate.

"Why do I know you?" Peter asked softly. "I feel like I know you. I shouldn't know you, should I? That's not… That's not what the matebond does."

"Nope," Stiles peeked up at him, bushy tails whipping behind him and fox-ear flickering. "That's what the void kitsune does. You weren't the only one in a coma. I took a ten day long nap a few years ago. And time in dreams… Time in dreams works differently. Ten days felt like ten months that we got to spend together in that place of dreams and memories."

Peter hummed, for now satisfied with the answer. He knew some things about kitsune, but had no overly specific knowledge. Something he needed to rectify. Mh.

"There's a lot I have to do," Peter mused, then brushed a kiss to Stiles' head.

Stile made a soft, agreeing noise and relaxed more against him. "It's okay. You don't have to do it alone. You have me now."

A warm smile spread over Peter's lips and he closed his eyes. Yes, he had his mate now. Everything would be alright, because they had each other and Peter was no longer alone. Never again.

/break\

Stiles felt so giddy and giggly when he saw Peter, sitting upright, awake, in the Argent-Stilinski home on the couch, wearing Stiles' clothes. Covered in Stiles' scent. Sadly, Stiles wasn't allowed to just watch his mate or have a conversation with him. His dads were pacing in front of him, Noah looking short of a heart-attack and Chris looking like he was planning multiple exit strategies. The only nice one was Allison, who kept hugging him and telling him how happy she was for him.

"I can't believe he's finally awake," Allison whispered with a giddy grin. "Six years!"

"I kno—ow," Stiles' grin split his face, eyes landing on Peter.

The wolf alternated between wondrously looking around or staring intensely at Stiles like he couldn't believe Stiles was real. The only reason Stiles wasn't curled up against his mate were the two pacing and stressed men in the middle of the room. Somehow, the murder put them on edge and made them feel less inclined to let Stiles close to his mate.

At least he'd been allowed to take Peter home with him and let the man shower. After his shower, Peter had walked into Stiles' room to ask for clothes, wearing nothing but a towel, and holy hell. Werewolf physique. Even with a coma, damn that man looked fine.

"I'm going to try and find out who the woman is," Noah sighed, rubbing his face.

Peter looked confused so Stiles felt like supplying: "Dad's the sheriff."

Peter's eyes widened a little, as though he now understood why the man was so stressed by this. Despite his dads' glares, Stiles got up to walk over to Peter and sit down next to his mate. He took the wolf's hand, interlacing their fingers to sooth him. It worked near instantaneously.

"I had to defend the territory," Peter said with a pinched look, staring at both Noah and Chris. "She was an Alpha. A foreign wolf on our territory. Stiles isn't a wolf. The pack aren't wolves. She was a threat. I had to get rid of the threat to my mate."

Because a foreign Alpha may have come here trying to claim the land and as the self-proclaimed Alpha of the territory, Stiles would have been the one to take out. No, not self-proclaimed. The territory had been abandoned by its last Alpha, but it was still Hale land and Stiles was the mate of the only Hale left on it. The land was his by werewolf law.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Stiles assured Peter, squeezing his hand.

"He killed a woman, Stiles," Noah sounded so exasperated.

"He killed a wolf who invaded his territory," Chris countered, arms crossed over his chest and frown on his face. "Now, I don't like it either, but he was well in his right to do so and depending on her intentions, she could have become a serious threat."

"Run this by me," Noah sighed and made a vague motion with his hand.

"The last pack that lived here died and abandoned the land," Chris spoke calmly, looking at Noah. "Which means it would be considered up for grabs. But your son laid claim to it – and by werewolf law, he has that claim, because he's the mate of the last living member of the previous pack. The only wolf who didn't abandon the land, and thus its rightful owner."

Allison gasped and her eyes widened when she caught on with what her dad was implying. "Any invading Alpha would just have to take Peter and Stiles out and could then claim the land."

The suggested threat to Stiles' life caused Noah's face to harden and his gaze to soften as it landed on Peter. Peter held it steadily, while Stiles held his breath.

"I will never let harm come to your son," Peter spoke with so much earnestness that it made Stiles blush. "He's my mate. He is all I have."

"That's not true," Stiles smacked the man's thigh. "We have a pack! You haven't met most of them yet, but they're my pack, so they're your pack too."

Peter tilted his head curiously and looked at Stiles. Gods, his eyes were so pretty. Ice-blue and framed by such long lashes. How long Stiles had wanted to be able to look into those eyes. He blinked as tears gathered in his own. He'd waited so long.

"It's okay, darling," Peter pulled Stiles into a hug. "I'm here now. I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"Never," Stiles gasped out between hiccuped breaths, desperately clinging onto Peter. "Never do that again. You are not allowed to leave me, do you understand?"

Peter made that soft, soothing sound but it felt too placating so Stiles pushed off the wolf enough to glare and bare his fangs, knowing he was more beast than boy in that moment. The look on Peter's face shifted, grew more serious, as the man nodded.

"You didn't leave me in these past six years, you were… always there. I will never leave you. I promise you that, my little fox."

He reached a hand up to squeeze Stiles' neck and Stiles felt himself relaxing some. The tails that had wound tightly around Peter's other wrist loosened a little.

"Right," Noah cleared his throat and motioned at Stiles' tails. "Can we talk about all of that too? What is that? That's new, right? That's not something you have been able to do all along but decided to hide from us, right?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper to Peter. "He is still a little upset by how long it took me to tell him about my magic. Or my fox."

"A little," Noah repeated loudly, glaring. "You put yourself in danger and-"

"Honey, maybe not now," Chris requested, resting a hand on Noah's arm. "Let's pin a repeat of that discussion for later and focus on new developments for now? Like the half-shift, which is definitely new, because kitsune don't have a shift form."

"No, we don't. And this isn't a shift form," Void sounded both amused and annoyed.

Peter growled and tensed at the new voice, looking around nervously. Still on alert and expecting a threat. Stiles pulled the man closer, brushing his cheek against Peter's.

"It's okay. That's my kitsune. I don't know how much you know about kitsune, but if you're possessed, they're like a presence in your mind. He's a void kitsune and feeds on chaos and pain. If he had, let's call it a 'good meal', he can take physical form."

Slowly, Peter nodded. He still startled though when the fox actually leaped out of Stiles' shadows. Void had grown big. But then so had Stiles, hadn't he? Sixteen years old, he was a young man now, not the little kid who'd first invited the void kitsune into his mind. The mighty black fox approached Peter with slow steps, head tilted.

"If it's not a half-shift, what is it, then?" Chris asked, seeming somewhat concerned.

"It's the same as this, as me," Void replied. "A normal possession is a very one-sided thing, it's… parasitic. The kitsune is in control. What Stiles and I have is more symbiotic. He is able to tap into my chaos, I am able to tap into his Spark and together, we form something unique. It's not just the power of my 'good meal' that allows me physical form, it's Stiles' magic and will that give me this shape, using my chaos as a power-source. This half-shift form of his is Stiles' doing, designed by his will and fueled by my power."

"Why now?" Chris narrowed his eyes. "Stiles has never done this before."

"Because he was chasing his mate," Void shrugged and went back to circling Peter, sniffing the wolf. "It tapped into the most primal and instinctual part in both of us. The raw, animalistic urge to chase and catch and claim. It seems Stiles decided to channel that animal a little more literally."

A blush of embarrassment lit up Stiles' face. He remembered standing in the hospital room, with only one thought. Finding his mate. He really had let instincts take him over in a way he never had before. The smile on Peter's lips eased some of his embarrassment.

"What… What happens next?" Allison asked concerned. "I mean, in general?"

"We'll have to contact the hospital," Chris rubbed his face. "Say we found Peter wandering the woods. He woke up from his coma, these things do happen, even to non werewolves."

"He needs to meet our pack," Stiles tagged on, finding that much more pressing, before turning toward Peter. "I know they're all human, but they're a good pack, I promise."

Void's cackling sent shivers down the others' spines. "They won't have to stay human now."

"What does that mean?" Noah looked so done. "Are there more of you? Are you suggesting more possessions? Because I don't think I can handle more of you."

Mh, Stiles didn't like just how amused and delighted the kitsune was at that. "No, but they can be wolves now. It'd be better for Stiles' mate anyway, even if a pack can have humans, if the pack is exclusively human, it won't do much in helping a wolf not turn feral."

"What are you talking about?" Peter frowned. "Only an Alpha wolf can turn humans. Stiles may be an Alpha, but he is also human."

Somehow, it made Stiles preen that his wolf so naturally accepted him as Alpha. He'd really thought that would be more of a fight, or that the born wolf may even take offense at the notion of following a human, of joining a human pack. But then Peter was his mate, wasn't he?

"Fuck," Chris growled, eyebrows drawn deep. "You killed an Alpha, Peter. You're the Alpha now."

For a moment, Peter looked surprised and confused, as though that thought hadn't crossed his mind at all. Then he went inward, closing his eyes and seemingly concentrating on the power. When he opened them again, they were a bright blood-red, the way Stiles remembered Logan's eyes in the coma hallucination memory they had shared. Stiles' own eyes widened in surprise. Damn, that was unreasonably hot. His tails behind him bristled.

"I didn't even…" Peter blinked a couple times. "You tackled me, right after I took her out and then all there was was you. The bond felt so overwhelming, I didn't even notice the power-surge of the Alpha spark, I thought that was all… you."

"Flatterer," Stiles grinned, feeling near drunk on his mate's words.

"Guess that makes you a proper Alpha pair, huh," Allison whispered surprised. "Oh, Jackson is gonna love this. He's been complaining about wanting to be a werewolf for years now."

Which was the truth. After Stiles and Allison had come clean to their friends, they of course had a hundred questions about the supernatural and Jackson had been the first one to ask how he could become a werewolf. He'd pouted for a month straight when Stiles had to break it to him that only an Alpha wolf could turn others and they didn't have one of those.

"Betas," Peter whispered with furrowed brows.

"You'll need them," Void pointed out. "An Alpha without pack-bonds to some wolves is a threat in the making. Pure chaos, set on causing pain and death."

The smile on the fox's face was vicious and unsettling. Stiles rolled his eyes and reached out to scratch him behind the ear until Void's hindleg started jerking.

"Stop always undermining me, kit," Void hissed displeased.

"Your family is very interesting, dear," Peter commented curiously.

"Our family," Stiles smiled and patted Peter's thigh. "You're mine, so they're yours now too."

/break\

It was all a little… much. After all these years, Peter finally had found his mate. And his mate was this powerful Spark-kitsune hybrid. And then his mate's very intense family.

The sheriff of the town. A retired hunter. A hunter in training who had declared herself the pack's Left Hand. And a demon fox who fed on chaos.

That was… the family Peter was now a part of. They'd brought him back to the hospital, though Stiles had promised to stay at his side and had kept that promise too, just to have him checked out and officially discharged. While he went through his checks, his mate's family had gathered up all of Peter's belongings. They took him back to their home again, gave him the guest room like it was a foregone conclusion that he would be living with them.

But then, he supposed, Chris and Noah had had five years to settle with the fact that their son was a werewolf's mate. Neither Peter's existence nor his nature or age were a surprise to them, they had had years to get used to this and form some kind of game plan for if he woke up. Apparently, that included him living with them, at least for now.

Stiles managed to keep the betas away for two whole days, to allow Peter a chance to settle into being awake again and into his new powers as an Alpha, something that felt near as surreal and overwhelming as having a mate. And then the betas ascended upon him.

Jackson was somewhat entitled, demanding the bite and declaring himself the perfect werewolf candidate. Lydia's calculating gaze intrigued Peter, there was much intelligence hidden behind her green eyes and he thought she had quite the potential. Danny was kind and clever, though he missed no opportunity to make fun of his friends. Boyd was a quiet kid but quite observant and very protective of his girlfriend. Erica was a shy and soft thing, burdened by the limitations of her body but unwilling to let that stop her. Alicia was the loudest, with so many questions and so much excitement, the youngest pup among them. That was his pack now. He'd been told so during his coma, Stiles' voice whispering it to him, promising him a strong and loyal pack if only he'd wake up. Now he was awake and now he got to see that his mate's words were true.

It helped that he was an Alpha. If he were still a beta, the pack bonds would be weak, because he was the only wolf and all of them were human. But now, as an Alpha wolf, he could claim them as his pack, could forge strong bonds even with human betas. And, of course, with his mate.

It was a bit peculiar, perhaps, the way Stiles and Peter submitted to each other, accepted each other as equal and as Alpha. This was Stiles' pack, he had formed it, strengthened it, kept it together. Peter had no intention of taking that from him, just because he had an Alpha spark now. His wolf had recognized Stiles as their Alpha even in his coma and after waking up. The boy who promised him a pack, who had accepted him into that pack.

"I have a present for you, Prettywolf," Stiles whispered as he tugged Peter along.

The petname still made him preen, even a week after waking up from his coma. When he'd woken up, there had still been some scarring, but after he took the Alpha spark and after nine pack-bonds snapped into place in his soul, properly, claimed by his Alpha spark, his accelerated healing kicked in. He felt stronger than ever before and he also finally started feeling more clear in the head. Everything had still been hazy and muddled in his mind, the first couple days.

"But why the hospital," Peter made a face. "I spent quite enough time here, darling."

"They don't make home-deliveries," Void snarked in front of them.

Peter had been told that the dark kitsune could only appear when he fed on chaos, but it seemed that the strengthened bond between Peter and Stiles was also granting the demon more power. A sentence that would have frightened Peter before the coma, but now it strangely delighted him. The demon was on their side, Peter knew Void would tear out the throats of anyone who posed a danger to Stiles and that was a huge relief to the wolf. Even if Peter wouldn't be there to protect his mate, the demon would always be at Stiles' side to protect him. (Though Peter knew how capable and strong his mate was, it was good to know that there was someone to have Stiles' back.)

"For you!" Stiles announced as he opened the hospital room.

The three of them sneaked in and Peter found a comatose woman in the only bed in the room. He tilted his head as he approached her. Something about her seemed familiar…

"Katherine Argent," Stiles said in ways of introduction. "Chris' younger sister. Chris knows we're here. Chris also knows what will happen. He had… years to come to terms with that. I think he's made his peace with it. I think a part of him may even be… relieved."

"I don't follow," Peter hated to admit that.

"Six years ago, she caused vicious chaos," Void's eyes seemed to glow even brighter. "And at Stiles' command, I hunted her down. I tore into her mind so she wouldn't be able to run. But I didn't deliver the killing blow. I thought you would appreciate the honor."

Mh, so that was the strange tone to Void's voice. Excitement. Peter's brows furrowed when the demon's words sank in. She was the one who'd laid the fire. The one who had killed Peter's family, put him in a coma. He snarled, the shift coming over him like a bucket of ice-water being thrown at him and before he could even think about it did he sink his claws into her throat and rip it out. Blood splashed everywhere and Void cackled in delight.

Only when the adrenaline died down some did Peter question what he'd just done. This wasn't like in the woods, there was blood everywhere in the hospital room now. And he had killed her in front of his mate. What would Stiles think of him now?

The boy was smiling, a near soft expression as he reached up to cup Peter's cheek. "It's okay. You avenged your pack. You avenged yourself. You can rest now, my wolf."

"The… body," Peter struggled with the words, too captivated by his mate's honey-whiskey eyes to fully concentrate on the murder scene.

"Danny hacked the hospital for us, we made sure there is nobody else on this floor," Stiles grinned, a wicked and dangerous expression. "There'll be a defect wiring in this room that'll cause a fire, but it won't reach any other patients, it'll be more or less localized. Only one tragic victim."

Stiles' eyes flashed. Not the black and silver of the fox, but the glowing light of his magic, the most magical greenish blue flicker. Peter tilted his head and leaned in without conscious thought, drawn in by his mate's clever mind, powerful magic and captivating beauty.

Perhaps the scene of a murder wasn't the most ideal spot for a first kiss, but to Peter, it felt perfect, just like the boy in his arms and the soft lips against his own as Stiles wrapped his arms around Peter's neck to draw him closer and deepen their kiss. Perfect, just like his mate.

Author's note: LOOK AT MY SHIP SAILING HIIIGH. A smitten wolf and his powerful fox demon Spark! Next chapter is gonna be the finale. We'll train the betas, throw in Derek, oh and Stiles and Peter get to properly seal their matebond!