The Hellhound's Mate

Chapter 1

(A/N: Hi and welcome to The Hellhound's mate. This is also going to be my own interpretation of a mating bond. We're also gonna be kinda rushing through season 3B to get to the better moments between Jordan and Angie. Thank you for taking the time to read this book and I hope you enjoy it, vote and comment. And please don't plagiarise it. Anyway, enjoy. XxD)

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No matter what age you were, the town of Beacon Hills had a way of draining you out.

And as someone who was born here and spent 20 out of her 25 years of life in said town, Angie Stilinski could attest to that. Between work and dealing with werewolf drama, she was running on three hours of sleep and a lot of caffeine as she walked through the Sheriff's station.

"Dad, I have those files you asked for," she sighed as she walked into the Sheriff's office, without knocking, and with a pile of manila folders under her arm, only to see a deputy around her age talking to her father. A deputy she hadn't seen before.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks, Angie. Come here, I want you to meet someone," he invited as her brown eyes met the deputy's green eyes as she set the files on her father's desk. "This is Deputy Jordan Parrish. It's his first night on the job. Parrish, this is my daughter, Angie. She works reception but also has a bit of a supernatural talent for tracking down information."

Angie elbowed her dad who gave her a knowing smile as she held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she chuckled with a smile as he clasped it, and it felt like her skin was on fire when they touched. Actually, it felt more like fireworks, like tiny explosions popping across her palm as the world seemed a little clearer, a little brighter.

"It's, uh, it's nice to meet you too," he returned, seeming a little nervous and reluctant to let go of her hand. "The other deputies speak highly of you."

She scoffed as she leaned back on her father's desk, equally as reluctantly letting go of his hand.

"As they should, considering I control their access to coffee and takeaway during the night shift."

Parrish laughed softly at her joke, his hands on his utility belt as the Sheriff gave the girl a pointed look.

"Seeing as you refuse to go home even though your shift ended three hours ago, you mind showing Parrish around?" he asked her and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm only here because your deputies seem incapable of filing paperwork correctly. And to make sure you don't fall asleep at your desk again," she retorted as she yanked the page that had Parrish's details on it from her father's hand.

"That was one time. And I'll go home eventually," her father replied.

"Likewise. Follow me, Jordan," Angie instructed as she headed for the door, a nod from the Sheriff indicating that he should do so.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please don't call me that. It makes me feel old, just like my real name," she grumbled as they walked out of the Sheriff's office and he furrowed his brows as he stared at her back and the dark hair that flowed down it.

"Angie, isn't your real name?" he asked in confusion.

"Nope. My parents thought it was a good idea to give my brother and I ridiculously long and complicated names, which we, of course, don't respond to, or like for that matter," she explained before making a sharp right turn into a room with a barred cage. "Holding cells. Every deputy has their own keycard and code; keys have a habit of being stolen and misplaced around here. And please for the love of god, don't write down your code. Memorise and then shred this page. And always keep your keycard on you," she instructed as she handed the page to him and his eyes skimmed it until he found the sequence of numbers that opened the holding cell.