The Untold Story Of A Beta (Teen Wolf)

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Stiles arrives shortly after ending the call and comes barreling into the living room. His expression doesn't change at the sight of me still in full werewolf mode. Of course, this kind of thing will never phase him. He proves that by running over to hug me until the point it becomes difficult to breath.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you shifting back?" His voice is muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

Before I can answer Derek cuts in, reminding me that I have to pull away from Stiles warm embrace. "Lucy needs to learn how to control her rage and in order to do that she has to find an anchor."

I wonder if Derek knows Stiles is my anchor. "Okay, kind of like Scott with Allison. So, what does this have to do with me?" he asks.

Derek approaches Stiles and a bad feeling begins to settle in the pit of my stomach.

"Well, like I said- she needs to learn how to channel her anger in order to shift and the only way to do that is through pain." Derek explains.

Without warning he grabs Stiles by the front of his shirt and shoves him to the ground. Stiles cries out in pain, but before I can make a move to get to him Derek pushes me back. Then he rears back, kicking Stiles hard in the stomach. "Isaac hold her back! I don't want her to interfere!" Derek commands, but Isaac hesitates. "If you want to help her, then do as I say!" Derek yells and finally giving in, Isaac lunges forward. He pins me against the wall before I have the chance to react.

I struggle under the boy's steel grasp. "Derek stop! He doesn't heal like us! You are going to kill him!" I scream.

Derek makes no attempt to stop kicking the crap out of Stiles as the fragile boy lays withering in pain.

After minutes of struggling against Isaac's grasp, it seems I'll never break free. But angry or not, I have had enough of watching my friend get closer and closer to the brink of death. Something snaps inside of me and I rear back, kneeing Isaac square in the gut. My hit sends him buckling over in pain.

I charge at Derek- who's to busy beating up Stiles to realize I have escaped. I grab his arm in mid swing and twist it backwards, sending him to his knees with a yelp. I raise my claws and press them to Derek's throat. "Stop or I will hurt you." I do not raise my voice, nor do I beg for him to stop.  If he chose to continue, I would be the one to stop him.

Instead of fighting back, his muscles relax and he has the nerve to smile. "I know you probably hate me right now, but you should know that I was trying to help you." He says.

I pull my hand away, letting it rest at my side. "Help me? How is beating my friend to a pulp helping me with anything?" I shout.

"You've learned how to control your anger through the pain of seeing your friend in danger and you shifted back."

Derek's right. I have shifted back, but that doesn't mean I forgive him for almost killing Stiles.

I kneel down beside Stiles and press my finger to the side of his neck to make sure he's still breathing. I lift up the hem of his shirt to find bruises already starting to form, but thankfully it doesn't look like there is any broken bones. I shake Stiles until he comes back to consciousness.

"Am I dead?" Stiles whispers with a groan.

I manage to choke out a laugh. "No, just badly bruised."

He tries to say something else, but blacks out before he has the chance.

"Isaac, come help me get Stiles to his car." I prop Stiles arm over my shoulder.

Isaac pulls himself off the floor to help me, but Derek orders him to sit back down. "Here, I'll help you." His glare tells me not to argue.

Without another word, we walk Stiles to his Jeep and lift him into the passenger's seat. I grab the keys from Derek's outstretched hand and slide into the driver's seat. But before I can shut the door his outstretched hand stops the metal from closing.

"You might not think you need my help, but if it wasn't for me today you wouldn't have learned control. You don't get it yet, but I'm looking out for you, Lucy." The man leans forward until each hair of the stubble along his jaw is visible, "Without a pack you are as good as dead."

He pulls away, allowing me to slam the car door shut and begin driving down the street without looking back.