"Don't worry, Scott," Kira said reassuring him, "I'm sure it happens all the time."

"Yeah, Scott," Stiles chuckled at the way her words came out. "I wouldn't worry about werewolf impotence or whatever."

I looked at him, utterly confused. As much as I tried I didn't know if I would ever understand them.

"It's a sex joke," Malia said to me matter-of-factly. I still didn't get it. But I smiled anyway.

Scott groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Great, thanks, guys. Really making me feel better about this."

Kira patted his arm, offering him an encouraging smile. "I'm just saying, maybe she's different. It doesn't mean anything's wrong with you."

Peter scoffed from his spot against the car. "Oh, but it does mean something. Something very interesting."

Scott shot him a glare. "Not helping, Peter."

I tilted my head, still trying to piece it all together. "So... does this mean I'm stronger than an Alpha?"

"Not necessarily," Lydia chimed in, ever the voice of logic. "It could just mean that you're immune to Alpha commands. Or at least, Scott's."

I frowned. "So, not special, just a problem?"

Peter's smirk widened. "Oh, you're special, Little Wolf. Just not in a way any of them were prepared for."

Scott sighed, clearly frustrated but trying not to show it. "Alright, so what now?"

I met his gaze, my resolve hardening. "I want to figure out what I am and what I can do."

"How do you suppose we do that?" Stiles asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

"Fight," Derek's voice carried from the bleachers, calm and certain. He'd been watching the whole exchange, unfazed—like he knew something the rest of us didn't.

I turned to face him, arching a brow. "Alright. Who's first?"

My gaze swept over Scott and the others. I'd fought before—coyotes, mountain lions, other wolves—but never like this. Never with so much skin and so little fur.

"I don't want anyone getting hurt," Scott said, his concern evident.

"We heal," I reminded him with a small shrug.

Stiles gestured toward Derek. "You're the biggest one here besides Peter. You take her on. Scott's still recovering from his… emasculation. Or is it de-wolfification? Whatever you'd call it."

I raised a brow. "Why not Peter?"

Derek stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "They think you'll let him win."

I scoffed. "Why would I do that?"

Lydia crossed her arms. "Because human girls are conditioned to be weak—to let their partners dominate them."

I shook my head. I wasn't human. But as I glanced at Peter, then back at Derek, doubt crept in. Could I actually take him down? Peter was stronger, bigger, more experienced. And if I was being honest, part of me wasn't sure if I even wanted to try.

I scoffed, rolling my shoulders. "I'm not human," I reminded them.

"And yet," Lydia countered, tilting her head, "you've been learning to live as one. Some instincts don't just disappear."

I met Derek's steady gaze as he stepped closer. He was bigger, stronger—but I wasn't going to back down.

"Are we doing this or not?" I asked, shaking off the last of my hesitation.

Derek gave a small smirk, cracking his knuckles. "Try to keep up."

Derek let out a low, rumbling growl, his stance shifting as his claws flexed at his sides. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, sharp and assessing. He wasn't holding back.

I should've been nervous. Maybe I was. But I refused to let it show. Instead, I smirked. "I should be telling you that."

His growl deepened, his fangs flashing as he leaned forward, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.

I wasn't like him—not yet. I hadn't mastered partial transformations or any real control over my shifts. But something primal stirred inside me as I met his gaze, unflinching. My bones ached, heat searing through me as my canines lengthened, sharper than I'd ever felt them before.

I let out a growl of my own, low and dangerous, surprising even myself. I could feel the shift pulling at me, urging me to give in. To fight. To win.

"That pull," Derek said between his teeth, "pull back unless you want to fully shift."

I nodded as we circled each other, holding onto the pull, maintaining control. Each movement urging our next response. It was if he knew I wouldn't make the first move, that I would hold back. And I was, I didn't know where the line was.

Derek lunged at me, sending me barreling to the ground. Derek wasn't taking it easy on me.

I hit the ground hard, the breath momentarily knocked from my lungs. Derek was on me in an instant, his weight pressing down just enough to remind me that he had the advantage. He wasn't going easy—not that I expected him to.

"Come on," he growled, his claws digging into the dirt beside my head. "Fight back."

I gritted my teeth, my instincts screaming at me to react. The pull was still there, simmering beneath my skin, waiting for me to give in. But I couldn't let it control me. Not yet.

Instead of struggling wildly, I used his weight against him, twisting my body and kicking out hard. I felt the impact as my foot connected with his side, knocking him off balance just enough for me to roll free.

Derek recovered fast, landing in a crouch, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Better."

I didn't give him time to say more. I lunged.

Derek toppled to his back, and I mustered enough strength to hold him down, claws digging into his flesh.

His face relaxed, and he held his hands up in surrender. I felt the wolf still fighting me for control, and I growled again. Instinct pushing me with every fiber to go in for the kill.

"Control it," Peter's voice cut through the primal thoughts. "You won."

My breathing was ragged, my heart pounding so hard it echoed in my ears. Derek's surrender should have been enough. But the wolf inside me didn't want to stop. It wanted to take. To conquer.

His blood was on my claws, the scent sharp and intoxicating. My grip tightened.

"Little Wolf."

Peter's voice was closer now, calm but edged with warning.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to blink, to see Derek—not as prey, not as an enemy, but as my friend. My claws retracted, and I pulled back, stumbling as the tension in my body snapped like a frayed wire.

Derek exhaled, watching me carefully as he pushed himself up. "You felt it, didn't you?"

I nodded, my hands shaking as I flexed my fingers, still half expecting to see claws.

Peter's gaze lingered on me, something unreadable in his expression. "That's the difference between control and giving in. You walk a fine line, Little Wolf."

I glanced at Peter, Derek, and then the others. There was a mixture of emotions I saw reflecting in their eyes. Fear, pity, and even pride.

I blinked, my eyes were wet again.

I hated that—this human reaction I still wasn't used to. Wolves didn't cry. Not like this.

Swallowing hard, I wiped at my face with the back of my hand before anyone could comment on it. But I could still feel their eyes on me. Watching. Weighing.

Derek stood first, rolling his shoulders like the fight had been nothing more than a warm-up. "You held back."

I didn't answer.

Peter, however, smirked. "She did. But not at the end."

Scott stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "You almost lost control."

"I didn't," I snapped, too sharp, too defensive.

"But you wanted to."

The truth of it burned in my chest. I had wanted to. That feeling, that pull—it had been intoxicating, overwhelming. I had never felt power like that before.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to meet Scott's gaze. "And now I know what it takes to stop."

Peter chuckled lowly. "For now."

"So, like, just remember people are friends, not food," Stiles attempted to break the tension.

I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. "Right. I'll try to keep that in mind."

Stiles grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Good. Because I don't think Beacon Hills is ready for a werewolf Jaws situation."

Malia snorted. "That'd be kind of cool, though."

Scott shot her a look, but before he could launch into one of his morality lectures, Lydia spoke up. "The real question is—what happens next?"

The amusement in the air faded as everyone turned back to me.

What did happen next?

I had proven I could hold my own, that much was clear. But I had also proven that I was something different—something unpredictable. The kind of power I carried made Alphas wary, made packs nervous.

I squared my shoulders. "I train. I learn to control it."

Peter's smirk widened just a fraction. "That's my girl."

Derek's shirt was ripped where my claws had sliced him, the wound was deep, not healing on its own. I eyed him carefully as I moved to inspect. Fighting yet another instinct to clean him to aid the healing.

Derek caught my wrist before I could reach him, his grip firm but not unkind. His eyes, still glowing faintly, searched mine with something unreadable.

"You don't have to do that," he said gruffly.

I hesitated. "It's instinct."

He exhaled, releasing me. "Then fight it."

I swallowed hard, curling my fingers into a fist as I forced myself to pull back. My wolf whined in protest, but I ignored it.

Peter chuckled lowly from behind me. "Fascinating."

I shot him a glare. "What is?"

"The way you wrestle between instinct and control." He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. "You're not just resisting the urge to heal him—you're resisting the need to claim."

My breath hitched. The words settled heavily between all of us.

Derek stiffened. Scott frowned.

I forced a laugh, shaking my head. "You're reaching."

Peter only smirked. "Am I?"

"He's your nephew, so that makes him part of my pack," I said, the weight of my words settling heavily in the air between us.

I hadn't realized it until that very moment, but it was true. The Hales—Peter, Derek, and the others—had become my pack, though I hadn't consciously made that choice. It happened quietly, almost without me noticing. It started the night they found me on the side of the road, broken and lost, and without hesitation, they'd taken me in. Not because they had to, but because in their eyes, it was simply what was done for Pack. For Family.

The connection I had with them wasn't just some fleeting thing, easily broken or forgotten. It was solid, ingrained deep in my bones, as much a part of me as the wolf I fought to control. I could feel it—the loyalty, the bond that had formed between us, and suddenly, it felt like the Hales were the first true family I had in years.

I hadn't just joined their pack. Somewhere along the way, they'd made their way into my heart, whether I was ready for it or not.

Peter raised an eyebrow at me, his gaze sharp. "That's quite the revelation, Little Wolf. A pack bond that runs deeper than you think." He leaned back slightly, his smirk turning into something more contemplative. "Didn't expect you to claim it so easily, but you're right. Once you're part of the family, you're in for life."

Derek, who had been quiet until now, nodded in agreement. His eyes softened, just for a moment, before the hardness returned. "Family means something. Even if you don't realize it right away."

I felt the truth of his words settle within me. It was a bond forged in silence, in shared experiences, in the understanding that no matter how dark the road ahead might be, we'd walk it together. And as much as it scared me to admit, I wasn't sure I could ever imagine walking it without them now.

"So does that mean she's not going to lick the blood off Derek's stomach while Peter watches?" Stiles smirked, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he leaned back, clearly amused by the tension he was stirring. "Cause I'd love to see that."

The air around us seemed to freeze for a moment, the weight of Stiles' words hanging in the space like a bomb waiting to drop. I blinked, I wasn't exactly sure why that was so funny, and looked at Derek, who was still sporting the remnants of my claws on his body, his expression a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. But it wasn't his reaction that had me biting my lip in frustration—it was the knowing look on Peter's face. This was another thing that meant something different to humans.

Peter's lips quirked upward, as if he found the entire situation more amusing than anything else. "You're getting bold, Stiles," he said, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that always seemed to accompany his smirks.

Derek, who had been about to retort, froze as Peter spoke, his expression shifting to something far more serious. "That's enough," Derek growled, his voice deep and gravelly, a clear warning to Stiles.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, the awkward tension now replaced with a strange mix of annoyance and amusement. "Stiles, seriously?" I shook my head, half-laughing, half-exasperated. "That's the kind of joke you think is funny?"

Stiles raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Hey, what can I say? A little humor never killed anyone… well, except maybe the people who tried to take down Derek."

Peter's smirk only deepened, though his eyes flashed with something darker for a brief moment. "Keep poking the bear, Stiles, and you might get more than you bargained for."

The playful tension shifted again, but this time, I couldn't help but feel a small bit of relief. It was easy to get caught up in all the dangerous, heavy moments around us, but sometimes, laughter—or even the discomfort it caused—was a necessary reminder that we were still human. Or at least, close enough to it.

"All right, enough with the weirdness," I finally said, trying to shift the focus off of the strange moment we'd found ourselves in. "Can we just get back to the part where I'm supposed to be learning how to control this… wolf thing?" I gestured vaguely at myself, not really sure how to explain the chaos brewing inside me.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Right, right, the serious stuff," he said, sounding far too amused for his own good. "Just making sure everyone's entertained."

The smirk on his face faded as we all got back to the reality of what we were really up against.

"So who's next?" I asked, my eyes narrowing as I glanced at Peter. "Do you think you can take me? You are the big bad wolf, right?" I teased, circling him, my movements slow and deliberate. I could feel the tension building again, the energy crackling between us, a dangerous dance of dominance and defiance.

Peter's gaze never left me, his posture relaxed but poised, like a predator waiting for its prey to make a move. He didn't flinch or respond immediately, but the corner of his mouth curled into that knowing smirk, the one that made my stomach flip in ways I couldn't quite explain.

"I don't think you know what you're in for, Little Wolf," he said, his voice low, almost a growl, as if savoring the challenge.

I smirked, emboldened by the thought of taking him on. "I have an idea," I replied, my voice just as low, matching his intensity. The air between us felt thick with the weight of unspoken promises, the kind that danced on the edge of a fight but never crossed the line—yet.

Peter's eyes darkened slightly, but his smirk never wavered. "I'm not some toy for you to test your limits on, Nova," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and something deeper. "But if you really want to see if you can take me down…" His voice trailed off, leaving the challenge hanging in the air.

I stopped circling him, meeting his gaze head-on. "I don't want to take you down," I said, my voice steady, despite the adrenaline rushing through my veins. "I just want to know if I can hold my ground."

There was a brief, dangerous pause as we locked eyes, and then Peter let out a soft chuckle. "You're not backing down, are you?" he asked, clearly entertained by my boldness.

I shook my head, a smirk of my own forming. "Not today."

Peter's lips twitched, and then, with a sudden fluid movement, he took a step toward me. I braced myself, ready for whatever he had in store, but he didn't attack. Instead, he simply reached out and pulled me closer, his grip firm but not forceful.

"Careful, Little Wolf," he whispered against my ear. "You just might find more than you're looking for."

I swallowed, my heart racing, but I didn't back away. If anything, it only fueled the fire inside me.

"Show me what you got," I leaned in, my voice steady, though my pulse quickened with the challenge. My eyes burned gold as I locked them with his, the wolf inside me itching for control. "I'm not afraid."

Peter's expression shifted slightly, his smirk turning into something more dangerous. The air between us grew thicker, charged with an energy that was almost palpable. He stood perfectly still, his eyes narrowing, sizing me up.

"Careful what you wish for," he said, his voice low and husky, like a promise, or a threat.

I felt the challenge echo between us, my body tense, but still, I didn't back down. The pull of my wolf was fierce, demanding, but I held it back, keeping control. Peter didn't need me to go full beast—not yet.

Then, in an instant, he was right in front of me, his presence overwhelming, like a force of nature. He reached out, fingers brushing the side of my face before trailing down to my neck, his touch almost too soft for the intensity of the moment.

But I didn't flinch.

"Impressive," he muttered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "But it'll take more than that to shake me."

I didn't hesitate. Without warning, I snapped forward, my teeth grazing his neck, marking the line between teasing and claiming.

Peter chuckled darkly, the sound low and filled with something wild. "You really think you can take me on, huh?" He stepped back slightly, testing my reaction.

"Only one way to find out," I shot back, my voice thick with determination. "You've been dominating for too long. It's my turn."

His eyes gleamed with something fierce. "We'll see about that," he growled, and just like that, the tension exploded.

He moved towards me, his presence looming, commanding. But I didn't budge. My eyes narrowed as I waited for the blow. He hesitated, and I took the advantage.

I lunged at him.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise as I moved with precision, my wolf instincts taking over. He hadn't expected me to be this quick, this relentless. My paws pinned him to the ground, my claws digging into his chest, but the moment I leaned forward, I heard his breath catch. Without thinking, I ran my tongue along the side of his face, feeling the coolness of his skin against mine.

It wasn't about domination. It wasn't about power. It was about showing him that I wasn't afraid of him—or anyone, for that matter. I shifted back, my human form feeling strangely fragile compared to the strength of the wolf inside me, but I stayed on top of him.

I collapsed against his chest, my breath heavy, my heart racing from the surge of adrenaline. There was silence for a beat, the tension between us vibrating in the air like a living thing.

Peter's chest rose and fell beneath me as he let out a slow, deep breath. He reached up to touch the side of his face, where my tongue had lingered, and I watched him intently, waiting for his response.

"Well," he muttered, his voice low and rough with something I couldn't quite place. "I wasn't expecting that."

I smirked, propping myself up on my elbows. "What can I say? I like to surprise you."

Peter's lips curled into that familiar, dangerous grin. "You succeeded, Little Wolf. I like it."

I raised an eyebrow, my smirk deepening.

Stiles' voice broke the silence, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his timing. "Was that supposed to be kinda hot?" he asked with a chuckle, glancing around at the others.

The pack stood frozen, mouths agape, staring at the scene unfolding in front of them. They'd clearly never seen anything like it—most likely a mix of awe, confusion, and maybe a hint of jealousy.

I stood tall, unbothered by my nudity as I extended a hand down to Peter, who was still lying on the ground, looking slightly dazed but amused. "You good?" I asked, my tone casual as if we hadn't just had an epic wrestling match.

Peter's lips curled into that same grin of his as he took my hand and rose effortlessly. "Better than good," he said, his voice thick with approval.

"Okay, seriously," Stiles continued, trying to lighten the mood as he glanced around at the others. "I'm all for a good show, but you two have officially crossed into something that should probably be private."

Lydia shot him a look. "If you're going to talk, at least make it interesting," she said, rolling her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

I glanced back at Peter, who seemed to be soaking it all in. "Don't mind him," I said, giving Stiles a playful shove with my shoulder. "He's just bitter he didn't get to be part of the show."

The others laughed, but it was Derek who spoke up next. "Next time, I think we should keep things a little less… intense." His voice was dry, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

I nodded in agreement but didn't back down. "Who says it's over?" I shot Peter a smirk. "We could keep going if you want, big bad wolf."

Peter's grin widened, and I could see the challenge in his eyes. "We'll see, Little Wolf," he murmured, the promise of something dangerous lingering in his words.

"I can't wait," I said back, matching the intensity in Peter's eyes.

But Lydia cleared her throat, breaking the tension and pulling everyone back into the present. "Alright, someone needs to address her current situation," she said, her voice pointed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she glanced between me and the others.

Derek and Peter exchanged a quick glance before returning their attention to me. They had gotten used to me in my less-than-modest state—after all, they'd seen more than enough of me by now. But the others were a different story. Stiles was trying his best not to look, though I could tell by his shifting gaze he wasn't succeeding. Malia, on the other hand, looked entirely unfazed, but I caught her trying to hide a smile. Scott seemed mostly concerned, his eyes darting uncomfortably, while Kira just shook her head with a small laugh.

"Right, right," Peter said, stepping forward with a mischievous grin. "I suppose we should be a little more… considerate of company." He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. "There. Better?"

I rolled my eyes but let the jacket fall over my shoulders. "If you're going to be a gentleman, at least get me something to cover up with that isn't one of your old jackets."

Stiles snickered. "At least someone's got some decency."

"Yeah, I just didn't expect it to be Peter," Derek muttered under his breath, but his eyes softened slightly as he looked at me, not quite breaking into a full smile.

I gave him a pointed look. "Just because you're too broody for chivalry doesn't mean everyone else is," I teased, pulling the jacket tighter around me.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Malia spoke up. "So… are we done here, or are we going to have another round of werewolf sparring?"

"I'm good for now," I said with a smirk, finally feeling the shift in atmosphere as everyone started to relax again. "But Peter and I still have a few things to figure out. Right?"

Peter's grin was all teeth, but the slight shift in his posture told me he wasn't about to push me further just yet. "Right."

—

The soft hum of the car's engine and the passing scenery blurred around me, my mind lost in the back-and-forth of thoughts. My fingers dug into my flesh as I hugged my knees tighter, trying to calm the conflicting emotions inside me. The wolf part of me wanted to assert itself, to claim the strength and freedom that came with it. But the woman—me—wanted something more. She wanted balance. Peace. The ability to be both at once, but not let one side swallow the other.

Peter and Derek's voices faded in and out as they discussed me. Their words weren't harsh, but they didn't need to be. It was clear they were concerned, maybe even unsure about how to handle what I was becoming. The weight of their conversation hung heavily in the air, but I tried to block it out, not ready to face what they might be planning.

I liked staying with Derek. He was easy to be around. He didn't expect anything from me except to learn. To grow. He had a calm about him that made me feel like I wasn't just fitting in but belonging. I wasn't sure if I had ever felt that way before. Peter, on the other hand, was an enigma—he pulled me in with his magnetism, but I wasn't sure if he was someone I could trust myself with. Not completely, not yet.

The thoughts danced in my head. Who did I want to be? Who was I? The wolf, the woman, the monster? Or something else entirely?

"Hey," Peter's voice pulled me out of my spiral. His hand brushed against my arm, gentle but commanding, as if he could sense the chaos in me. "You okay?"

I glanced over at him, offering a tight smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking." My voice came out too soft, unsure. I knew he could hear the underlying unease, but I didn't know how to say what I needed to.

Derek's voice, slightly more distant but steady, came from the backseat. "She's figuring it out, Peter. Don't push her."

I nodded without speaking, grateful for Derek's understanding. I wasn't ready to talk about it—not yet, anyway. I just needed time.

Peter didn't press me, but I could feel the intensity of his gaze on me. He always seemed to be watching me, reading me in a way I wasn't entirely comfortable with. But I couldn't help but feel that same pull.

"Whatever you decide," Peter said quietly, "we'll be here."

I didn't respond, but his words sat with me. Would I be able to reconcile the wolf with the woman? Or would one part of me eventually consume the other?

"I'm sorry," I said softly, "I wish I knew which parts of being a wolf were ok and which parts make you uncomfortable."

Peter was quiet for a moment, and I could almost feel the weight of his thoughts before he responded. His voice, when it came, was measured, careful. "You're still learning," he said, the words warm but firm. "It's not about being uncomfortable. It's about understanding. We all have our own limits, even the wolves. And you're not just learning how to be one of us; you're learning to be yourself with it all."

I turned to face him, meeting his gaze, and felt something shift in the space between us. He was right, in a way. It wasn't just about fitting into a mold. It was about finding what I could be without losing myself. But the fear lingered—the fear that I might become something I couldn't control, something that scared even me.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," I murmured, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my jacket. "But sometimes it feels like I'm losing control. Like I don't even know who I'm supposed to be."

Peter's eyes softened, and for a moment, I could see the flicker of something that wasn't just the Alpha looking at me. There was understanding, maybe even empathy. "The control comes with time. With understanding yourself, and learning to listen to both parts of you. The wolf, the woman... they're not enemies. They don't have to be."

I swallowed hard, processing his words. It didn't make it easier to understand, but it made it seem like there was hope. Maybe I didn't need to choose between the two. Maybe I could be both—at least, I hoped I could.

Peter shifted in his seat, his voice turning playful to break the tension. "You're just like the rest of us, Little Wolf. Messy, complicated... but it's you."

I couldn't help but smile at his words, even if they were laced with a hint of teasing. The truth, though, was that he was right. I was messy, complicated—just like the world I was stepping into.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe I didn't need to figure it all out right away. I just had to take it one step at a time.

"Well," Derek said reassuringly, "I was hoping you'd at least take a bite out of Peter," he smirked, "But you were able to control the shift."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Derek, my lips twitching into a smirk. "Oh, you wanted me to bite Peter? You know, he's already got a thing for me, so I don't think he'd mind," I teased, feeling a little more at ease with the banter.

Peter, who had been silent up until that point, shot Derek a pointed look. "Control is key," he said, his tone smooth but with a hint of amusement. "And I'd appreciate it if we didn't test my patience, Derek." He wasn't truly angry, but I could tell he didn't want to encourage any further mischief.

Derek chuckled, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment, but there was a seriousness beneath his words. "You handled yourself well. That's all that matters. You're getting stronger."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his praise, though there was still a part of me that wasn't entirely convinced. It was one thing to control a shift in the heat of the moment, but it was another thing entirely to keep it under control when it wasn't so immediate.

Peter turned the conversation back, his tone more thoughtful now. "The more you practice, the easier it gets. You'll find your balance eventually." His eyes softened as they met mine, giving me an unspoken promise of patience, of understanding.

"Guess I'll have to get used to having my strength tested," I said, leaning back in my seat, my hands still fidgeting with the fabric of my jacket. I could feel the weight of the journey ahead of me. There was so much left to learn, so much to understand—not just about being a wolf, but about navigating the world that had suddenly opened up to me.

The car rolled into the garage at Derek's loft, the familiar hum of the engine slowing as Peter parked. I stared at the concrete walls, the dim lights, the shadows that seemed to hold memories of everything I had tried to leave behind. Derek's place had become my sanctuary—a place where I could breathe, where I could make sense of who I was. But now, with everything swirling in my mind, the idea of returning to that comfort didn't feel like the right choice.

Instead, I found myself watching Peter, the weight of everything between us hanging like an unspoken promise. Chaos. I had always been comfortable with it in some form. I didn't have the answers, but I knew I didn't want to run from it anymore.

"I want to go home with you," I said, my voice steady but soft, testing the waters. "If you still want me there."

There was a long pause, the kind that seemed to stretch between us, thick with the tension of both unspoken and spoken words. His hands were on the steering wheel, fingers curling around it so tight I thought he might crush it. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but his eyes flicked to mine, that usual coldness briefly slipping into something softer.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice rough around the edges, not because he was unsure but because he didn't want to make it more than it was.

I nodded, pushing myself up a little straighter in the seat. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Peter didn't say anything right away, just let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. But his eyes, those eyes that always seemed to see too much, flicked back to the road, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Chaos, huh?" he muttered, almost like he was toying with the idea. He met my gaze again, and for a moment, I saw the mask he usually wore slip, just enough for me to see the edges of what he was hiding. "You know what you're getting into, right?"

I leaned forward, unbothered by the shift in proximity, the car now feeling too small for the distance between us. "I think I've always known," I said, my voice quieter now, not as certain as I wanted it to be but brimming with something I couldn't ignore.

His grin was dark, teasing, the kind that felt like an unspoken warning. "Alright then."

Derek glanced between me and Peter, his expression unreadable before he climbed out of the car. "I'm still here if you need me," he said, his tone steady but laced with concern.

I gave him a small nod. "I'll need you. You're my pack, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Derek's gaze lingered on Peter for a moment before he added, "Just don't let him get you into too much trouble."

I smirked and raised an eyebrow, glancing at Peter. "Can I get him into trouble?" I teased, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Peter met my gaze with that trademark half-smile of his, unbothered by my jab. "That's the real question, isn't it?" he said, voice low and amused.

"She's good for you, Peter," Derek said, his tone softer now, his gaze lingering on us both before he turned and walked up the steps to his loft.

I watched him disappear, then turned my attention back to Peter. The car hummed quietly beneath us as he pulled back onto the road. I couldn't help but smile, the tug of something warm curling in my chest.

Peter noticed me watching, his smirk widening as he kept his eyes on the road. "You're staring again, Little Wolf," he teased, his voice a low drawl.

"I know," I replied, leaning back slightly, my lips curling into a sly grin. "You like it when I look at you."

He chuckled, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, the mischievous glint never leaving his gaze. "Maybe I do," he murmured.

"Were you serious about what you said this morning?" I asked.

Peter's eyes flicked to me briefly, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm always serious," he replied with a certain edge in his voice. "But we said a lot of things this morning, so you'll need to narrow it down."

I bit my lip, the uncertainty from earlier creeping back in. "The part about being my… mate?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

Peter's grip on the steering wheel tightened just slightly, his eyes still on the road. There was a flicker in his gaze, an acknowledgment of the weight behind my words. He didn't speak right away, letting the question settle in the air between us.

"Ah," he finally said, voice low but steady. "That part."

I swallowed, unsure whether I wanted an answer at all. But I needed one. I couldn't keep pretending that everything was just casual when there were things left unsaid.

His gaze shifted to me, something unreadable passing over his face. "I didn't just mean it in passing, if that's what you're asking." He paused for a moment, his voice softening. "But being with me isn't easy. It's... complicated."

I couldn't quite suppress the flutter in my chest at the way he said it—part warning, part promise. I took a steadying breath before replying.

"I can handle complicated," I said, meeting his gaze with determination. "I want to handle it. Hell, we can be complicated together."

He smirked, "You swearing now, Little Wolf?"

"Maybe, am I not supposed to? Is that another human thing?" I quirked a brow.

Peter chuckled, the sound low and amused, but there was a certain fondness behind it as he shot me a glance. "Nah, you're free to swear. Just didn't think you had it in you."

I shrugged, a playful glint in my eyes. "I'm full of surprises."

"You don't say," he replied, his lips twitching into a smirk as his hand reached for his chest, the cut from my claws still bleeding.

I narrowed my eyes, "Why aren't you healing?"

"I'm healing, it'll just take a little longer, your claws cut deep," he glanced over at me, "not quite as deep as an Alpha's claws but deep."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" I stammered.

Peter held up a hand, stopping me before I could finish. "Don't worry about it, Little Wolf. It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, I kind of deserved it, didn't I?" His voice was teasing, but there was a quiet understanding in his tone, as if the cut wasn't just physical.

I felt a flicker of guilt, but I also couldn't help but notice the way his words danced in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. "Still," I muttered, "I didn't want to hurt you."

He smirked again, his gaze lingering on me. "You didn't. You just reminded me that I'm not invincible." He shifted a bit, his fingers brushing over the wound, clearly trying to minimize it.

I watched, feeling that strange pull again, the one that made me want to reach out and help, but I hesitated. What did I know about healing, about how to make things right? All I knew was that the ache inside me wasn't just for him—it was for me, too.

"You're still thinking too much," he said, his voice softening slightly as he read me, his gaze never leaving me. "It's just a cut. We're both still here, that's what matters."

"Would you be okay with me helping it heal when we get home?" I asked, recalling the way he looked at me when I tried to help Derek.

His lips curved into a smirk, his eyes darkening just slightly. "I'll let you help me. Only me."

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver coursing through my entire body, the kind of feeling that tingled in the deepest parts of me. Before, I hadn't understood the significance of such a touch, but now it made sense. It wasn't just an Alpha's command or a pack connection—it was something deeper. It was a mate thing. A human thing. Something that tied us together in a way I hadn't fully grasped until this moment.

His eyes didn't leave mine, and for a second, I felt like I could lose myself in the storm brewing in them. I realized then that the way we touched, the way we shared space, was no longer casual or just about survival—it was about something far more intimate. Something that, even if it was new to me, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Only you," I promised, my voice quiet but resolute. The words were simple, but they held so much weight. They were a promise, an acknowledgment that no matter what chaos surrounded us, I was here, fully here, and I would be for him—always.

It wasn't just about healing his body anymore. It was about healing each other in ways I hadn't known were possible. And I knew, in that moment, that whatever we faced together from here on out, we'd face it as more than just a pack. We'd face it as mates.

I climbed out of the car when we finally arrived at Peter's cabin. Leaving his jacket on the seat behind me. The night air prickled my skin, but I was more focused on the man beside me.

Wordlessly, I helped him pull his shirt up over his head and toss it on the ground. My fingers traced the four slash marks that littered his otherwise perfectly crafted flesh. They were my mark on him. I looked up at him, eyes locked, seeking his permission.

His breath hitched, just barely, but I caught it. That slight pause, the flicker in his eyes—he was letting me in, letting me see him in a way few ever had. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath my touch, warm despite the cool night air.

I didn't need words to understand the answer he gave me. It was in the way he held still, letting me take control. The way his lips parted slightly, waiting, anticipating. The way his hands, usually so quick to take, to claim, remained at his sides.

This was different. This wasn't a test of dominance or power. This was trust.

Slowly, I leaned in, my lips brushing just beside the wounds, breath ghosting over his skin. I hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. Then, with deliberate slowness, I let my tongue trace the edges of each wound, my wolf responding instinctively to the act of healing, of claiming.

His sharp inhale sent a thrill through me, a silent confirmation that this wasn't just about mending flesh. This was something primal, something that hummed beneath the surface of our bond.

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze again, my fingers still pressed against his skin. "Only you," I whispered, reaffirming the promise I'd made.

His smirk was slower this time, less teasing, more knowing. "Only me," he echoed, his voice rough in a way that sent a different kind of shiver through me.

Chaos, I had chosen. And I would choose it again.