The Pack Knows First
If Harry thought he could get away with being subtle about this—
He was very mistaken.
Because the next morning, when he walked into the loft, the pack knew.
They didn't say anything.
Not at first.
But Malia smirked at him like she knew something he didn't.
Lydia gave him a once-over, nodded—which was somehow worse than anything else.
Derek sighed, looking entirely done with the situation.
And Stiles?
Stiles grinned.
"Finally," he announced, throwing his hands in the air.
Harry frowned. "What?"
"Oh, don't you what me," Stiles shot back. "We all knew this was going to happen, dude. You and Peter have been circling each other like wolves in heat for months."
Harry choked.
Peter, of course, looked entirely unbothered.
"Can we not do this?" Harry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, we're doing this," Stiles said, practically vibrating with glee.
Malia smirked. "So when's the mating bite?"
Harry groaned. "I hate all of you."
Peter chuckled. "No, you don't."
Harry turned to glare at him. "You are not helping."
Peter just smirked, completely shameless. "Wasn't trying to."
And damn it, Harry was in too deep.
Way, way too deep.