A hunter and his prey (Peter Hale x Chris Argent)

Chapter 1

The sound of dirt kicking from underneath his boots along with the constant snapping of twigs underneath his weight was enough to keep the Hunter on his trail. He had to take this slowly, and quietly. He'd stop from running on all fours, instead, he'd run directly towards the four wheeler, showing his claws before slashing the two tires on the right.

He was quick enough to get away, but slow enough to have caught an arrow in the shoulder. This entire situation did not make sense. Chris Argent promised he was done hunting. He'd even become somewhat of friends with Scott McCall and he even spoke to Derek and his pack at times. Despite having an insane hate for were's, Chris had attempted to make amends. He was the one in the wrong anyway.

As soon as Peter was out of sight, he'd stop against a tree, panting. He'd hold his shoulder before swiftly tearing the arrow from the open wound, wincing as he did so. The wound did not heal after being freed from the object.

"Peter?" A voice would ask which sounded oddly like Cora's. It was her.

Peter signed in relief. "Niece Cora!" He'd exclaim quietly. "What are you doing out here?" He asked, turning towards her with a confused look on his face.

Cora would move in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders before pulling him in for a hug. "You've been gone for three weeks. Derek was worried but he wouldn't leave home." She'd state in his ear in a rushed whisper.

Peter could only sigh contemptly, wrapping his arms around Cora. "I know. It's Chris Argent." He'd say before pushing her off of him gently.

"Argent? I thought he stopped hunting?" She'd gasp, analyzing her uncle. He looked worn out. Marks on his wrist from wolfsbane infused rope, along with his lack of a shirt.

Peter nodded, a sad, mourning look on his face. "I know. Apparently some were turned his daughter. He's out for revenge, Cora." He'd speak, looking around frantically for the sound he'd just heard.

She'd gasp, grabbing her uncle by the arm and dragging him through the forest until they reached a Jeep. A rather familiar one. Stiles. "We need to go. Now." She'd tell Stiles before allowing Peter to climb into the backseat, Cora taking the front.

"Holy God. He's alive?" Stiles asked before pulling his Jeep into reverse and backing out of the parking lot.

Cora nodded, looking behind her at her uncle who looked rather mentally scarred. He'd probably seen some shit.

Stiles would then speed out onto the road, driving as far away and as fast as he could from the forest. "Where was he?" Stiles asked, breaking the silence.

Peter responded for himself. "Oh, you know, in some secret dungeon with Chris Argent." He'd speak, making a joke out of his trauma.

"Argent!?" Stiles exclaimed, putting a foot on the brake as soon as they met the outside of what Derek called home. It nearly flung himself out the window, much less the two werewolves that never used seatbelts.

Peter nodded, rubbing his wrists slightly. "Jesuz Christ. Could you have stopped any softer?" He'd question, eager to get out of the Jeep, much less into the building. Peter breathed out slightly before hitting the pavement beneath him, Cora immediately rushing to his side.

She'd shake him for a minute before deciding it's better if she brought him to Deaton instead of being at Derek's home. Which, incidentally, was her and Peter's home too. Instead of speaking to Stiles, she'd run, her Uncle in hand. She wouldn't waste time, for all she knew, Peter could be dying. As soon as she met the door of the vet, she'd shove her way in regardless if Deaton said it was closed or not.