Steter Week 2023
Day #3: Your Enemies Are My Enemies
Summary:
Stiles squeezed his mate’s hand to soothe the angered alpha and watched Scott puff out his chest in a pitiful attempt to be intimidating. “No.”
“NO?!” Scott growled. “What do you mean no? This isn’t negotiable. You're my pack!”
“Am I?” Stiles asked calmly.
Scott hesitated and nodded firmly. “Yes.”
Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “I love Peter and he loves me. I’m not leaving with you, and you can’t make me.”
“Wanna bet?!” Scott snarled.
Peter’s control was rock solid, airtight, never faltering. His presence alone was enough to drive fear into the hearts of most. It was always a turn on to see the alpha put people in their places.
@steterweek
Stiles was pissed. Here he was bleeding, and in immeasurable pain after saving the asses of his pack once again but did he get any thanks? Nope! He was recovering in the hospital and only three people had come to see him and not one of them was his alpha. That was the nail in the coffin for Stiles. He was done. He was so done with constantly putting his life on the line for people who couldn’t care less so long as they lived even if it meant Stiles was racking up hospital bills like crazy.
That was why as soon as he had been released from the hospital, Stiles vanished into the night. He took only the bare minimum with him. There was some grim humor in the fact that the night he left was the two year anniversary of his father’s death. He made sure to stop by the cemetery to say goodbye to his parents one last time. They wouldn’t want this life for him, and he knew he had to think of himself first now which he wasn’t good at, but Stiles was determined to change that. It hurt to think of his dad even two years later. Noah Graham Elias Stilinski was another casualty, another unnecessary death as a result of the pack’s ineptitude. Stiles had been too late to save his dad and carried the guilt with him every day.
As he stood and brushed off the dirt, Stiles made a promise to his parents that he would never let himself be taken for granted again. Once, when he was younger, Stiles had fallen for his best friend, had fallen for Scott but as time passed and his friend only sought out others, Stiles realized it was forever unrequited. He had only attempted to reveal his feelings once and Scott played it off as a sick joke. Stiles never tried again. Now, when he thought about it, Stiles was relieved as the person Scott now was, was not someone Stiles wanted to be with.
A werewolf wasn’t a turn off for Stiles but being a fucking asshole, whose head was always buried in pussy was. They’d had too many close calls because Scott was thinking with the wrong head. Some alpha he was, true or not.
Stiles shook away the dark thoughts and departed from the cemetery. He couldn't take his jeep with him, knowing it would be a dead giveaway. So, he used a little of his savings to get something he had always wanted. As he mounted his Ducati Corse, a sleek black model and his pride and joy, Stiles felt like he was finally taking control of his life.
The deep purr it let out when he started it, felt like power bleeding into Stiles’s veins. He revved the engine and then took off, blending perfectly with the inky shadows surrounding Beacon Hills. Only when the rearview mirrors showed the town sign did Stiles feel the weight on his chest release. There was still a long road ahead, but he was ready.
✶ 🩸 𖤓 🩸 ✶
Two Years Later:
Anchor of Selene Bookstore was a huge success with the people in the small town of Oelwein, Iowa. It was nearly two thousand miles from his former home and so small that everyone knew everyone. At his shop, Stiles finally was able to put his spark into play. Deaton had hated Stiles with a passion and with the druid whispering in his ear, Scott had refused to name Stiles his emissary even going so far as to restrict his use of magic. Granted, Stiles never truly stopped using it, just avoided doing so where the alpha could see. Plus, Stiles wasn’t a wolf and despite being the alpha’s beta he couldn’t be controlled like they could. He just let Scott believe he was as it was either that or the alpha would’ve assigned Deaton to supervise Stiles constantly which absolutely not.
Anyway, here in this small town, Stiles was thriving and most importantly, well Stiles had found someone or rather they had found him. There was a small werewolf pack in town and of course Stiles abided by proper protocol and formality. It was important that the spark declared himself to the alpha of the territory. The Hale pack was well known to those in the supernatural community and yet Stiles wasn’t afraid despite their reputation.
It seemed the alpha in particular found him amusing and his spirited demeanor pleasing. So, Stiles was often invited back to see the alpha. What started as a bit of barbed foreplay soon became a genuine respect and level of trust. It may have taken them nine months to reach such a place but that then led to where they are now, Stiles being courted for nearly three months. Speaking of—
“Hello, sparkling,” said the alpha as the door to the store chimed upon opening.
Stiles smiled. “Hello, alpha mine.”
The Hale Alpha, Peter Xavier Ignatius Hale, was a force to be reckoned with and no one got away with giving him anything less than the utmost respect. He was feared but a healthy amount of fear and no one went toe to toe with him, at least not until Stiles arrived and then people, especially the various pack members, loved watching their verbal sparring matches.
They had met more informally when Stiles opened his magic shop disguised as a bookstore. It had been a rough day for the spark. He had changed his number and had only given it to three people, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey and Allison Argent. Jackson was living in London while Allison and Isaac were living in France. It turned out they too could no longer remain in Beacon Hills and had in fact left barely a month after Stiles’s own departure.
It was sad that only three people chose to remain in contact with him. Everyone else had disowned him but really Stiles couldn’t care less. He was happy now, was being courted by the alpha and wasn’t being forced to hide who and what he was.
What Stiles didn’t know about Peter was that he was more than just an alpha. It was only upon their fifth date, during month five of courting that Stiles learned what else his possible mate was. Peter Hale was apparently a world renowned lawyer and businessman.
Of course, Stiles kept this information to himself, not wishing to reveal it to anyone, not even his friends but somehow, the one person Stiles never wanted to learn of his whereabouts, had found out. Scott McCall had been livid when his spark, and Stiles was his, had vanished. He had searched, forced his betas to search and even found a way to use his father’s contacts in the FBI. It was all for naught though as the spark had found a way to evade him.
Stiles had hoped that he would never see the alpha again and for almost a year during which he and Peter grew closer, that hope held fast. However, fate or something out there didn’t deign to give Stiles more than a single year with his soon to be mate before Scott tracked him down and brought his pack to confront Stiles.
Thankfully the wards sent Stiles a warning and he was able to alert his alpha. Peter joined him at the store and the two took up residence on the couch in the alcove facing the door. Not even an hour later, the McCall Pack shoved their way into the store, making Stiles’s magic hiss and his fingers vibrate with the need to protect. Only Peter’s fingers lacing with his own, halted his actions.
Scott McCall hadn’t changed much in the past nearly three years, but Stiles sure had. He had bulked up now that he could run whenever he wanted. He sported a lip piercing, a tongue piercing and more tattoos than a person could count and not all of them visible when he was wearing clothes.
He felt the alpha’s thumb rub soothing circles on the back of his hand and allowed himself to settle further into the wolf’s embrace. He was safe. He was home. Stiles wasn’t going anywhere.
Of course, the fool had never learned proper decorum. He had never listened to what the correct protocols and pertinent formalities were. No, he simply started in on reprimanding Stiles. Peter wasn’t impressed in the least but put on a sharp smile. “Alpha McCall. Well met. What brings you to my territory?”
Scott froze seemingly shocked that he was being interrupted. His jaw clenched as he flashed his eyes, another baby alpha mistake. Peter showed no outward reaction to the pup’s aggression.
Stiles smirked and flicked his tongue out to play with the metal loop in his lip. The McCall Alpha seemed to be expecting Stiles’s interjection, but the spark had no intention of coming to his aid ever again. It was humorous though to watch the realization filter in. Scott had never been able to hide his emotions or reactions from Stiles.
The entire thing set the foreign alpha on edge. He went for the kill, knowing only that Stiles was his and he wouldn’t leave without him. “Do you really think he wants you, Stiles? You’re of no use to him except for your magic. You can’t bear a child. That’s why I never took you seriously. You realize that as an alpha I’m expected to reproduce? Lydia can give me that, but you can’t. Also, we both know he’s paying for everything. You can see that right. He’s just a sugar daddy. He doesn’t love you, Stiles. He just wants your spark. He’ll pay for everything so long as you do what he wants with your magic.”
Stiles had moved on long ago from the feelings he had once harbored for the alpha but his words hurt nonetheless. Knowing that he wasn’t wanted because he couldn't bear children was painful to hear. If only Scott knew—Even more painful was the knowledge that the girl he thought he loved, though he never truly did, was now going to bear children for his ex-best friend, his ex-alpha. This was turning out to be a fucking terrible day.
Despite the hurt he felt, Stiles showed no outward emotion other than to glare at his former alpha from where remained curled up on the couch with Peter. “My relationship with Mr. Hale is of no concern to you. I haven’t seen you or spoken to you in nearly three years.”
Apparently, Scott now suffered from even more delusions if his next words were anything to go by. “You are my emissary and therefore you have to obey me! You did not have permission to leave the pack. You did not have permission to leave Beacon Hills and when we get back home, I’ll deal with you.”
Peter let out a growl at the audacity of Scott to think he would be leaving and taking Stiles with him.
Stiles squeezed his mate’s hand to soothe the angered alpha and watched Scott puff out his chest in a pitiful attempt to be intimidating. “No.”
“NO?!” Scott growled. “What do you mean no? This isn’t negotiable. You're my pack!”
“Am I?” Stiles asked calmly.
Scott hesitated and nodded firmly. “Yes.”
Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “I love Peter and he loves me. I’m not leaving with you, and you can’t make me.”
“Wanna bet?!” Scott snarled.
Peter’s control was rock solid, airtight, never faltering. His presence alone was enough to drive fear into the hearts of most. It was always a turn on to see the alpha put people in their places.
It seemed that Scott for all his stubbornness hadn’t forgotten that of the two of them Stiles was the one who wouldn’t be moved if he had made up his mind. “Fine!!” Scott ground out. “If he loves you so much then he has to prove it. He cannot give you any money for one month. We will stay in a hotel nearby and if he can prove that he loves you, I will give him permission to court you, but I will ultimately decide. Don’t push me, Stiles!”
Stiles looked at Peter who had a gleam in his eye before looking back at Scott with a deceptively sweet smile. “Okay, Scotty boy.”
✶ 🩸 𖤓 🩸 ✶
Scott left after warning the two that he would be watching. After the door to the shop closed, Stiles pressed his lips to the alpha’s and moaned softly. When they parted, they both sported smirks. Little did Scott know; Stiles had never been his emissary. Alan Deaton saw to that. Not to mention that less than four months ago, Stiles had been given the honor of the position as the Hale Pack Emissary. How else would he have gotten permission to ward the territory, though he had originally offered it as a gift of court to the alpha when the alpha offered to pay for it. That was a hard fought compromise for them.
All that being said, Stiles was taken and Peter? Well, Peter was the Alpha. Peter was his Alpha.
“I wish I could say I’m surprised but honestly I’m not.” Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, nosing at the wolf’s head when said alpha nipped at his throat. “I’m sorry for Alpha Mc-Asshole.”
Peter pulled back and cupped his mate’s face with one hand while still lacing the fingers of the other together. “You have nothing to apologize for. He is not your alpha, and you owe him nothing.”
“He’ll try to take me away,” Stiles said.
The alpha snarled and pulled his mate close, his free hand coming to rest on Stiles’s stomach. The action, both possessive and protective, made Stiles’s heart flutter. Peter wouldn’t let anything happen to him. After all, Stiles’s enemies, and that’s exactly what Stiles viewed Scott as now, were Peter’s enemies. The spark knew without a doubt that if Scott showed his face again or came near Stiles again, Peter would unleash the full wrath of an alpha when his mate was threatened, especially when said mate was carrying the alpha heir.
“I love you, alpha mine.”
“And I you, sweet sparkling.” Peter kissed his mate, cradling the barely there swell of his mate’s stomach. “You and our pup.”
This was what Stiles had wanted when he left Beacon Hills. Though he hadn’t expected Peter Hale, the spark had found what his parents always wanted for him: a home, a partner, safety, a child, a family and happiness.
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