A Home He Didn't Ask For
The first time Harry noticed something off, it was small.
The wards around his house were too strong, even by his standards.
He hadn't reinforced them, but suddenly, they were layered—woven with magic that wasn't his, something primal, something wolfish.
The second time, it was more obvious.
A strange man had cornered him outside the grocery store, pressing in too close, smelling of alcohol and bad intentions.
And then, out of nowhere, the air shifted.
A deep, warning growl rumbled from behind.
Harry turned to find Derek standing there, eyes glowing, teeth bared.
The man ran.
Harry blinked.
Derek shrugged. "He smelled bad."
Harry squinted at him. "…You guys are stalking me."
Derek looked entirely unbothered. "We're protecting you."
Harry huffed. "I don't need protection."
Derek didn't argue.
He didn't need to.
Harry smelled like home.
And home was protected.
Whether he wanted it or not.