No More Running
Harry had felt the shift before he even left his house.
The weight of something pressing in on him, like a storm on the horizon.
It wasn't magic.
It was them.
So when he stepped out onto his porch that night, he wasn't surprised to find Peter Hale standing there, looking entirely too smug for someone trespassing on private property.
Harry sighed. "You know, normal people knock."
Peter smirked. "And yet, you still opened the door."
Harry crossed his arms. "Didn't exactly have a choice."
Peter's gaze sharpened. "That's funny. Because I think you've been making a choice this entire time."
Harry frowned. "What are you on about now?"
Peter stepped closer, slow and deliberate. "You let us protect you. You let us watch over you. You let us claim you, even when you pretend you don't want it."
Harry's heart pounded.
He wanted to deny it.
He should deny it.
But he couldn't.
Because Peter was right.
"I never asked for this," Harry said, but there was no bite to his words.
Peter reached out, brushing his fingers against the edge of Harry's sleeve—just enough to make him shiver. "And yet, here we are."
A breath. A pause.
Harry clenched his jaw, but the fight was leaving him. "Why?" he finally asked, voice quieter than before.
Peter smiled, but this time, it wasn't smug. It was something softer. Something dangerous.
"Because you smell like home."
Something inside Harry cracked.
It wasn't magic.
It wasn't power.
It was something far more terrifying.
It was belonging.
It was the terrifying realization that he might not be alone anymore.
And, maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to be.