Forest for the Trees – 7 – Hazel

Reading Time:
24 Minutes

Chapter Seven:

The walk was fairly long and mostly quiet, but Stiles didn’t find it uncomfortable.  The two wolves spoke on and off to each other, allowing him to observe the rather interesting dynamic between them.  Peter obviously like to tease and poke, and as much as Derek bristled and glared he clearly trusted his uncle and that told Stiles enough to feel he could rely on the older man’s word.

When they finally stopped walking, it was in front of a large, old oak tree.  Stiles glanced up, not at all surprised to see a series of runes carved deeply into the trunk a few feet above his head.  The carving was as weathered and worn as the older carvings he’d seen in the case file.  Stiles placed a hand on the side of the tree and felt the magic pulsing through it.  Oh yeah.  Definitely a ward anchor.

“This is the edge of Hale territory, right?”

Peter narrowed his eyes.  “It is.”  He waited a moment but when Stiles didn’t say anything else, he nodded towards a patch of shrubbery a few feet away.  “I found a grouping of animals over there sometime in January, I think.”

He hummed, glancing around at the different plants flourishing in the area.  “And the weird plants you were talking about?  Could you take us to one of the places you saw them?”

Peter arched a brow and started walking, following a nonexistent trail that he could only assume was the territory’s boundary line.  He took the opportunity to enjoy the pleasant May weather and the overabundance of nature, but even distracted, he knew when they’d arrived.

He was no kind of woodland expert, but he could tell that the patch of vegetation wasn’t natural.  It didn’t match anything around it, and there was simply no way that configuration occurred on its own.  Five completely different plants in a circle with another completely different plant directly in the middle.  Nah.  He wasn’t buying it.

Stiles stepped forward, rubbing a leaf between his fingers.  He moved from one to the next, naming them as he went.  “Sage.  Bay. Gladiolus.  Elder.  Yarrow.  All accessible for protection magic.”  He stepped back to look at the young tree they were surrounding.  “And clove, closely associated with the element of fire.”

He made another circuit.  “Protection and fire seem to have been the focus.  But I doubt the number five was used on accident.  Five is associated with air.  So we have protection, fire, air.  Not much different than the animal sites, though here the emphasis is more on protection than fire.  Hmm.”

Stiles stared at the unnatural grouping of plants.  Then he started looking around.  He didn’t have to go far to come upon a large shiny black boulder jutting up from the earth, a protection rune etched carefully into its smooth surface.  A second smaller rune was carved even deeper at the top.  A triskele.  Not an easy feat considering he was pretty sure that was obsidian.  Prized for its protection and grounding properties in magic.

Another ward anchor, he confirmed with a touch.  Or at least a strong source of magic being used for protection of the Hale pack and territory.  Which amounted to a ward anchor.

He turned back to Peter when he had walked all the way around the massive rock.  “What about the overgrowth you were talking about?  Can we see one of those areas?”

Again, Peter set off without a response.  He and Derek traipsed behind him, their hands occasionally touching.  Stiles sent him a smile when the deputy steadied him as he stumbled over a protruding root.  Derek smiled back, then rolled his eyes when his uncle called them adorable over his shoulder as he kept going.

The area when they arrived, was harder for Stiles to pick out.  At least by sight.  Once he’d walked right up to the middle of the patch of admittedly overgrown stinging nettle, the magic was obvious.  It practically poured out of every serrated, heart shaped leaf.  “Well that’s not natural.”

“So it’s magic.”  Derek’s statement was clear but also clearly a question, one Stiles had expected as soon as they’d seen the first site.

“Definitely.  And both the other spots were close to what I can now pretty confidently call ward anchors.”  He stared down at his feet as he walked carefully around the tangle of vegetation.

“Which means?”

“Ward involvement is looking pretty likely.”  Stiles stopped and looked at his wolf, waving a hand back at the overgrowth.  “This at least is almost certainly elemental magic of some kind, which means a druid is much more likely than a sorcerer.  Conceivably, this kind of growth could be driven by buried runes that were infused with core magic, but I don’t sense any of that here, at least not now.  There wasn’t any detectable in the other spot either.”

“And the likelihood of it having been here before and it just ran out?”

Stiles shrugged.  “Not terribly high, but this isn’t the clearest circumstance to make that determination.”  He turned to Peter, who seemed to have been watching the exchange with interest.  “You said there were lines of discoloration that were still evident?”

“The were still visible when I was there last week.”

“Which would mean that whatever magic was fueling it was still active,” he muttered with a nod.  “That would be a better place to identify the magic responsible.  Lead on, Macduff.”

Both Hales rolled their eyes, but they headed off without any other complaint, so Stiles counted it as a win.  Certainly, he wouldn’t be able to get to or from any of these places without the wolfy guides.  They hadn’t used a single visible path for the last hour at least.

When they finally reached what he desperately hoped was their final destination, he was a little out of breath.  Derek raised a questioning brow that he took to mean his wolf was concerned for his non-athletic welfare.  He flashed a smile and turned his attention to the very much still obvious line in the dirt.  It was several shades lighter than the areas on either side and formed a rather straight line in both directions.  He followed it until it ended at the base of a large oak.

“Anchor on the right, can we all hazard a guess as to the what’s behind door number two?”

“So whatever this is, it’s related to the territory wards maintained by and connected to the Hale pack?”

“Oh, almost certainly,” he confirmed with a too-wide grin.  Both Hales frowned, eyebrows spelling doom for the unknown perpetrator.  “I can’t tell you the exact intent behind it, but…” he spun in a slow 180, looking at the surrounding trees and other flora in the area for any indication of talismans or runework.  “I can probably figure out the magical umph that’s driving it.”

He knelt on the ground just beside the line and started to dig.  “Not above or around, so it must be below,” he said under his breath as Hales shifted uneasily behind him.  It didn’t take long before they were stepping closer as he called out in success when his hand found a fist sized rock that buzzed with magical power.

They both crowded around as he started to clean it off, Derek making a sound of surprise at the sight.  “What the hell is that?”

It was black, or it had been.  Now it was shot through with so much gold that he could barely tell what it had been.  “It probably used to be hematite.  Excellent for grounding, focus and protection.  What it is now,” he brushed dirt off the rest of the surface and ran a finger over the first of two symbols, a circle with a large dot in the middle.  “Fire, strength and protection.”

He took a deep breath, then touched the other symbol.  “And this is the alchemical symbol for a philospher’s stone.”  Stiles sat back on his feet, still holding the mostly gold rock.  “It’s a symbol and a tool of transformation.  One of the most powerful used in alchemy.  It means two things.  One, our mystery guest is a druid.  And two, they were seeking to transform, to change something.  Considering the context and placement, I’d have to guess the ward.”

Two low growls sounded behind him but he just stared at the rock.  “Question is, is it to change it to make it stronger?  That would indicate a pre-existing issue with the ward or the pack’s link to the land.  Or is it to make it stronger because of a change that caused a problem needing to be fixed?”

He tapped the golden surface with a finger.  “We might be able to check for that first one if we could look at the foundation of the pack’s link between the land and the wards.”

“You mean the Nemeton,” Peter said with a bit of a growl.

Stiles looked up at him.  “Uh, yeah.”

Peter scowled, his expression matching his nephew’s as the deputy stared off into the forest.  “I’m afraid you’re on your own for that one.  I don’t know where it is.”

He blinked.  “You’re the left hand.  Doesn’t the pack protector kinda need to know stuff like that?”

“Not according to my sister and her pet druid.”

“Well that’s not sketchy as fuck.”

Peter and Derek both crossed their arms and stayed silent.  Stiles sighed and looked down at the rock.  Technically, he could locate the Nemeton by following the telluric currents back to the magical nexus, but that would absolutely out him as a mage, and while he might be willing to tell Derek something like that in confidence, both wolves would be in hot fucking water if Talia ever learned that they knew something like that and kept it from their alpha.

As unsettling as mysterious magical animal sacrifices and unknown magical workings being conducted in the territory was, it wasn’t an exigent threat to lives in Beacon Hills.  So it wouldn’t really hurt anyone if he got a second opinion on his interpretations of things to make sure an inspection of the Nemeton was actually needed.  And to be honest, if that was the case then the entire situation was above his pay grade, so to speak.  So, really, he needed to reach out anyway.

He nodded.  “Right.  Let’s head back, I want to talk to my dad.  I think we’re going to need to have a more expert expert weigh in on things.”

He pushed himself to his feet and started off, only to have Derek pull him gently back and point him in a different direction.  “Car’s that way.”

“Right.  Super.  Let’s go.”

The Hales followed silently for several minutes.  Then Peter asked what he’d honestly thought Derek would have wanted to know.  “And who might this exalted expert be that you intend to bring into this situation?”

Stiles shrugged.  “My old academic advisor.  I worked with him a bit after I graduated, he’s kinda like my magical mentor.  Professor Lee Alden, Magecraft Chair and Head of the Telluric Science Department at Loo Wit University for Magical Studies.”

“Well, that does sound like a learned individual who could illuminate our currently shadowed situation.”

Stiles looked over his shoulder at the older wolf, only pausing for long enough to shoot Derek a smile as he steadied him when he started to trip on a large rock.  “Do you always talk like a pretentious Disney villain?”

Derek laughed so hard he – the coordinated and athletic werewolf – needed I fall down stairs weekly Stiles to keep him from running into a tree.  There was a first for everything.

—  —

Peter had left in his own vehicle from the preserve, apparently assuming that his nephew would be driving Stiles back to his apartment.  Derek wondered briefly if Stiles would have preferred otherwise when the man stared after the sports car as it sped away.  Then he turned to Derek and smirked.  “What do you bet he spends the next day or two plotting nefarious plots in his evil lair?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s his SOP, no matter where he is.”  Derek shook his head with a small laugh and gestured for Stiles to get into the cruiser.  “In fact, he’s probably more likely to be planning something nefarious if he’s at the pack house than when he’s home.   But since mom doesn’t expect him back until tomorrow or the next day, he’ll probably hole up at his place, and let her assume he’s still out of town.”

The way Stiles cocked a single brow and huffed as they pulled out of the parking lot practically screamed I don’t fucking blame him.  But maybe that was just his own personal view of dealing with his mother, Derek didn’t know.  He also didn’t know what to talk about as they drove back to town.  Thankfully, Stiles had no such problem, the man easily steering the conversation from one topic to the next until they’d arrived at the apartment.

He shook his head with a smile as Stiles unbuckled even as he threw his hands up to emphasize how huge the metaphorical explosion had been when two of his friends at Loo Wit had discovered they had chosen the same exact topic for their senior thesis.

“It was kind of awesome to watch.  Though I’m sure I would have had an absolute coronary if it had happened to me,” he admitted with a shrug and opened the cruiser door.  “Your shift starts at five, right?”

He swallowed the sigh he wanted to make at the thought.  “Yeah.  I should head home.  Get cleaned up and change.”

Stiles nodded his head several times and closed the car door, leaning in the open window before stepping away.  “We should grab lunch or dinner tomorrow.  Or whenever you’re free.”

Derek put the car in drive, but kept his foot firmly on the break.  “That’s a great idea.  I’ll give you a call when I know.”

Stiles made finger guns at him and spun on his heel.  Derek watched him until he’d made it all the way inside before pulling off and heading home.  It took him less than an hour to take a quick shower and get into uniform.  He grabbed a protein bar to snack on during his patrol.

He needn’t have bothered, since the sheriff walked up to his desk with a frown as soon as he sat down.  “Hale.  Burning the candle at both ends?”

Derek cleared his throat.  His boss was entirely too observant.  “Just wanted to look over the files again since I was going out to look at things this morning with Peter and Stiles.”

Noah crossed his arms over his chest.  “As much as I appreciate the work ethic, there is such a thing as burnout.  Wallace is back from visiting his mother, why don’t you take the rest of today.  Get some rest, and let him pick up a few of the hours he lost last week.”

Some part of that sounded like it might have been a question on the surface of it.  But the order was clear just the same.  Derek didn’t bother arguing, just sighed heavily.  “Yes, sir.”

He got a firm clap on the shoulder on his way out as Noah nodded and headed back to his own office.  “Good man.  We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Derek sighed again when he made it out to his cruiser.  Going home to his empty apartment sounded like a recipe for overthinking, so he dialed Stiles and put it on speaker as he headed back out of the station parking lot.  The other man picked up right away and sounded pleasantly surprised at the offer of pizza and company.  Plans for an early dinner made, he pulled over as soon as they hung up to place the order for pick up.  He had just enough time to grab a change of clothes before their food was ready.

“Afternoon Deputy,” Stiles said with an exaggerated smirk as he opened the door only two hours after they’d last seen each other.

Derek just shook his head and slipped inside to put the pizzas on the dining table.  The smell of the pizza on the drive over had convinced him he was hungrier than he’d thought, so while he put up his service weapon in the small gun safe that Stiles had installed for his dad to use, he didn’t bother getting out of his uniform before they sat down to eat.

“I called my dad after you left and asked him if it would be okay to send the basics of the case to my advisor.”

Derek nodded, closing the lid on the empty box for the meatlovers he’d gotten himself.  Stiles nibbled on his third slice of Hawaiian and went over the email he’d ended up sending the professor once he’d gotten the sheriff’s permission.

“He should get back to me in a day or two depending on his class schedule and if he needs to do any research on anything.”

“That sounds good.”  He eyed the remainder of the pizza in Stiles’ box.  Pineapple had absolutely no place on a damn pizza, as far as he was concerned.  His opinion must have shown on his face because Stiles closed the box and stuck it in his fridge with a friendly glare.

Derek laughed but it turned into a yawn.  It had been a long few days in more than one way.  It felt almost like the BBQ had been months ago now, despite it having been literally a week before.

Stiles glared again, this time through a yawn of his own.  “Why’d you do that?  Now I want a nap like a crabby centenarian.”

“Well, if you’re a hundred years old, I’m at least ninety because that doesn’t sound bad at all.”

Stiles bit his lip.  “We could always lay down and watch a movie or something?”

Derek forced himself to his feet.  “I wouldn’t turn that down, but I should change first.”

Stiles nodded several times, sweeping one arm out towards where he knew the bathroom was.  “Feel free.  I’ll grab my computer and get us set up.”

The laptop was indeed sitting on one of the tables beside the bed with a documentary on ancient Rome ready to play when he got out of the bathroom in a clean pair of worn jeans and a henley.  Stiles didn’t look quite ready to watch it, though.  He was perched on the edge of the bed, holding something with a pensive look on his face.

“Everything okay?”

Stiles looked up, as though surprised to see him there.  “Oh.  Uh.  Yeah.  Fine.”  He fiddled with what turned out to be a small, flat box.

Derek just raised a brow in disbelief as he sat slowly next to Stiles.  “Really?”

Stiles exhaled noisily.  “I think I already told you that I have a… thing.  Where I make stuff for my dad.”

“The protection stuff?”

Stiles shrugged and nodded at the same time, then handed over the small box and glanced away.  “Yeah.  That.  So I had some free time the last couple days, the shop was slow and all and I may have made something.  I mean, I did make something.  For you.”

Derek took the box, pulling off the lid.  Inside, folded neatly within several layers of white tissue paper was a bracelet.  It was made of small, thin squares of silver and grey metal connected by delicate jump rings and tied together with leather cord.  At each end of the cord were very small round pieces of some kind of stone or crystal.

He picked it up and was surprised when the metal was already warm, like it had been held, despite the fact it had clearly been inside a box.  Turning the bracelet over, he saw that the undersides of each piece of alternating metals were covered in dozens of runes and other interlocking symbols.  It looked far more complex than anything he’d seen inside Epigraphy.  Far more complex than anything he’d ever seen attributed to a sorcerer.  But he was hardly an expert on that kind of thing.

The sour tang of anxiety began to tickle his nose.  Derek slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, pulling on the cord’s sliding knot to tighten it into place.  “Thank you, Stiles.”

The man shrugged and looked away again.  Derek set the box aside, cupped his face with both hands and gently turned it so Stiles was looking at him.  “Thank you,” he repeated softly, his thumb brushing back and forth on Stiles’ cheekbone.

The man’s smell mellowed, then turned sweet and a little spicy as he leaned forward and covered Stiles’ mouth with his own.  After a long, slow kiss, he pulled back just far enough to whisper “thank you” one more time before they were kissing again.

Stiles lifted his hands, burying them in Derek’s hair, tugging lightly when a deeper kiss drew a moan from him.  They nearly melted onto the bed, still kissing, still holding each other’s face close to theirs even when they pulled back to breathe.

Derek stretched out over him, only holding his weight up with his arms where they were positioned on either side of Stiles’ head.  As much as he wanted the man naked under him, he wasn’t ready to move away long enough.  After long minutes, Stiles made the decision for him, his hands moving from his hair, down his back, under the henley, and then up.  He pulled the shirt with him until Derek had to sit up on his knees to take it the rest of the way off.

While he was up, he took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of Stiles laying on the bed, panting, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.  The redness continued down his throat, and suddenly, Derek had to see how far down it went.  He dove under the t-shirt, hands sliding up the man’s stomach, prompting Stiles to straighten his arms so Derek could pull the shirt off entirely.  His gaze went immediately to the now exposed chest, where the skin was flushed red to just below his nipples.

Derek bent, hands trailing over the red skin, drawing circles around the hard nipples right before he covered the first with his mouth.  He licked and nipped lightly at one, then the other, drawing another moan and a whispered curse from Stiles.  His voice sounded breathy and stuttered under Derek’s gentle exploration.  But it wasn’t enough.

He sat back up, knees on either side of Stiles’ slim hips.  The view was enough to make him lick his lips, imagining he could still taste Stiles there.

“Get the fuck back down here,” Stiles gasped, arching his hips but not quite making contact as Derek moved back far enough to reach for the waistband of his boyfriend’s pants.  “Or do that, that’s good.”

He slowly pulled the sweats down his legs, taking the boxers with him, his hands returning immediately to Stiles’ legs once they were bare.  Derek slid his hands back up in a slow, firm glide, rubbing his thumbs over the seam of thigh and hip when he got there.  Stiles hissed, his hands reaching up to fist in his pillow and his legs splaying wide.

Derek continued to rub and kneed the muscles under his hands as he moved them over his hips and around, lifting Stiles to him.  He nuzzled into the small patch of hair, inhaling the scent of Stiles and arousal.  Hands buried in his hair, clenching and pulling slightly with every cry he pulled from Stiles with his lips and mouth.

Finally, there was a sharp tug and Derek lifted his gaze, mouth still full.  Stiles glared down, glassy eyed and flushed an even darker red than before.  “Get your damn pants off and get up here, asshole.  I don’t recharge like an Energizer Wolf and I want you in me when I come.”

The words sent a spike of want straight to his cock.  Derek pulled off with a groan and made quick work of his jeans and underwear before returning to the bed, stretching out over Stiles, pressing him into the mattress with the full weight and length of his body.  They both moaned, hips moving to rub against each other.

Stiles reached out, smacking the bedside table a couple times before he got ahold of the drawer handle and pulled it open almost hard enough to send its contents everywhere.  Taking the blatant hint, Derek reached into the drawer for the bottle of lube.  He fumbled with it for a moment, then dropped it onto the bed next to them and reached down to press slick fingers into the man beneath him.

He kissed Stiles, swallowing the moans that followed.  He opened him thoroughly, stopping only long enough to re-slick his fingers as he added a third.  The feel of Stiles, bucking and writhing against him was addictive and he didn’t want to stop.  But again, that breathy, gasping voice broke through his pleasured haze, Stiles’ mouth moving against his, the words little more than hot breaths against his lips.

“In me.  Derek.  In me, please.  I’m ready.  I’m ready.  Now.”

How under the moon could he possibly say no to that?

Derek forced himself to pull back so he could slick himself up.  Once done, he moved back over Stiles, holding his gaze as he positioned himself.  He began to press slowly in, one hand holding Stiles’ hips and the other entwinning their fingers and using the grip to pin Stiles’ hand to the mattress.  Stiles responded by wrapping both legs tightly around his waist and trying to pull.

“Slow down, I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned.

Stiles turned his head to the side and gasped into the pillow.  The movement stretched his neck, exposing the length of it in a display too tempting to resist.  As he finally bottomed out, Derek buried his face in the side of Stiles’ neck.  His mouth latched on, his hips moving in slow steady thrusts.

The hand in his squeezed hard enough that if he hadn’t been a shifter it probably would have done some damage.  The legs still wrapped around his waist pulled him down on each inward thrust, building a rhythm that had him cursing even as he continued to kiss and lick and suck at the length of neck and throat exposed to him as Stiles threw his head back on a cry.

“Fuck!  Harder, Derek, please.”

He rolled his hips, grinding down, adding a snap to each movement.  But he didn’t speed up.  He continued slow and hard and relentless until Stiles began to tremble.  One more grinding thrust trapped Stiles cock between them and Stiles let out a near silent scream as he came.

Derek pressed down, keeping himself buried deep as he let go, coming with a growl.  He wanted to bite down, to mark and claim, but he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut so tightly they burned.

Stiles let his legs splay out on either side of Derek’s hips as the werewolf fought to calm his breathing and regain control of the wildness inside him still demanding he make Stiles his.  Long seconds passed and both their heartbeats slowed, the sound of them beating nearly in synch was possibly the most calming sound Derek had ever heard.

He lifted his head with a sigh, pausing to kiss lips already swollen a delicious red.  Stiles lifted his head off the pillow to meet him, licking into his mouth and rolling them both so he was now on top.  Somehow, Derek managed to stay inside Stiles’ heat another few minutes before he finally slipped out.  The cool air was harsh on his sensitive flesh, but the smell of their combined release was enough to make him twitch in interest despite being completely spent.

The kisses slowed until they were doing little more than sharing breath.  Then Stiles dropped his head to rest in the curve of Derek’s neck.  The small kiss Stiles placed there made a low rumble build in his chest.  He could feel him smile, lips curving against his skin.  Derek pulled him closer, wrapping both arms around Stiles with a possessive strength.

Stiles laughed softly, then sighed and cuddled closer.  They stayed like that long enough for Stiles to fall asleep on his chest, little puffs of air making Derek’s nipples harden.  Knowing that he needed to get them cleaned up at least a little, he carefully rolled to his side and slipped out of the bed to pad quietly to the bathroom for a washcloth.

Once he’d wiped them both up with the warm cloth, he moved back around the bed to rejoin his lover.  Just before he did so, Derek woke the ipad and restarted the documentary that had probably been paused that morning when Stiles woke up.  Then he lay down and pulled the warm body back against him.  Stiles stirred briefly with a humming sound, but a few strokes of his hand lightly up and down his bare back had him settled quickly.

Derek lay there for a while, just savoring their combined scents and the feel of Stiles sleeping soundly in his arms.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, despite the early hour, because the room was fully dark when he woke suddenly, the remnants of an odd, disjointed dream still confusing him and giving the room a reddish haze.  He rubbed at his stinging eyes, trying to calm his wolf and keep from sprinting from the room.  What the fuck was going on?

Stiles jolted up beside him with a gasp before he could decide what to do.  Derek reached out, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder as his heartbeat raced in his ears.  “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, shaking his head.  He jumped out of the bed, nearly falling as he stumbled over to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans.  “I need to go.  We need to go.”

The statement felt so true his stomach hurt.  Derek gathered his own discarded clothing and started to dress.  “Where are we going?  What’s going on?”

Stiles pulled on a worn red hoodie, then paused, eyes staring at the wall and head tilted slightly to the side.  He stayed frozen for a few seconds, during which Derek finished getting dressed and started pulling on his shoes.  Just for a second, Stiles’ eyes flashed a bright molten gold that was nothing like the shade of his own beta eyes.  Then all of a sudden, Stiles was a whirlwind, dashing around for socks and shoes and hopping across the room as he tried to put them on and get to the door at the same time.

“Fuck.  The Nemeton.”  He finally sat on the couch and tied his shoes, looking up at him with wide eyes.  “It’s the Nemeton.”

The hollow feeling in his gut yanked and Derek nearly stumbled himself as they left the apartment.  “What’s the Nemeton, I don’t understand.”  He steered Stiles towards his cruiser when they reached the parking lot.  He had a feeling they were not going to be driving the speed limit and the last thing they needed was to get pulled over.  Because now that Stiles had said it, he could feel the urge to get to the sacred tree like a painful itch under his skin.

Stiles didn’t answer his question but he didn’t really need him to.  He knew the Nemeton wanted him, wanted them.  And that was enough to have him speeding off towards the preserve without any hesitation.  The fact that the magical nexus itself was calling for aid was almost nauseating, and he somehow just knew that whatever this was, it was related to the animal sacrifices.

They had parked and rushed off, side by side into the woods when Stiles broke the silence.  “Why us?  The Nemeton is linked to the guardian pack, Derek, it should be calling the Alpha and the Emissary for the territory.  That’s the whole fucking reason for a guardian pack in the first place.  Why is it calling us?  Because my magic is absolutely saying that’s what’s happening.”

Derek didn’t answer.  He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.  He knew his mother was not a great alpha.  He knew Deaton was not a great emissary.  But this, this was something more than that, and it left him as unsettled as the call itself.

He reached out, taking Stiles’ hand and holding on tight as they went deeper into the trees.