Blood Runs Cold

Chapter One

Stiles had never regretted turning down the bite. Yeah, it would have been nice to gain a semblance of grace, but he's had to deal with enough shit while still being human. He didn't need to tack on the extra bullshit coming after him that being turned would have added. Tack on all of the incredibly gross details about being a werewolf that Scott liked to tell him whether he wanted to hear or not, and yeah, he was pretty damn happy being human.

Until being human meant he had to stay at Derek's loft alone with Peter who had politely declined to assist Derek and Scott tackle what felt like the fifth new monster that decided to terrorize Beacon Hills that week. Not only that but Peter seemed determined to stick with Stiles.

The monster (or monsters, nobody was entirely sure how many were out there) was targeting regular people so Stiles got why he was staying behind. Hell, even having a bodyguard seemed reasonable. But for Peter...

"I've already had my neck ripped out once for you." Peter inspected his nails and said with a sardonic laugh, "Or, by you, I suppose. Wasn't very fun, I don't recommend it. Which is why I will not be participating in your little fun run." He leaned against the wall and raised an eyebrow at Derek and Scott who looked to be silently fuming. "I'll keep a watch on our precious, delicate little Stiles and make sure nothing hurts him."

Yeah. If he had accepted the bite, Peter wouldn't have been roping him in with a crushing side hug.

"I think I'd be safer out there than in here," Stiles gasped out, trying unsuccessfully to pry himself free of Peter's grip. He would have assumed he was imagining it was getting tighter the more he struggled if he didn't know well enough by that point that Peter did it on purpose because he thought it was hysterical.

God he hated this guy.

"Peter—" Derek started.

"Do you really think I'd hurt a hair on his head, Derek?" Yup, that was absolutely the feeling of a rib cracking right there. "There's a gang of man eaters out there, I can't be the only one concerned for Stiles' safety."

"Or you're just a coward," Scott murmured under his breath.

Peter's lips twitched as he loosened his grip on Stiles enough to let him gasp in a few desperate breaths. "Careful, puppy, or else I might start worrying you didn't like me."

"We're going." Derek wrapped a hand around Scott's shoulder and forced him out the door. Stiles didn't need werewolf super hearing to hear Scott's growl from behind the closed door.

The door keeping the world out and Peter in with him.

Great.

"Well that was fun." Peter released Stiles and looked at him with pleased, narrowed eyes. "Scott's still complaining to Derek, he's saying some awfully rude things about me and my mother."

"Now that you've had your fun, I'm going to do some research." Stiles brushed passed him, biting his tongue to keep him from saying more. The best tool for dealing with Peter that Stiles had found was to not rise for his bait. Ignore him whenever possible and grunt out single syllable responses when not.

"Research, Stiles? You're going to waste a rare opportunity of being utterly alone with me to go through some musty tomes?" Yeah, there was the problem with dealing with Peter. No matter how much you ignored him, he'd still keep doing whatever the fuck he wanted.

"Yup!" Stiles spun to look Peter in the eye with a fake grin plastered across his face. "Nothing sounds better!" There was no way in hell that he was going to go along with whatever manipulative bullshit that Peter was cooking up. The urge to just throw himself to the beast that was ripping out small intestines and hearts was growing the longer he looked at Peter's stupid smug face.