Barely Breathing | Book Three/Season Three A

6

I sit up in my bed as I hear Stiles' footsteps approaching my door. Soon after, there's three knocks, letting me know that he's about to come in.

He opens the door and immediately locks his eyes on mine, as if he's checking me for some kind of injury.

"I'm fine, Stiles." I assure him, rising to my feet, wearing only one of his t-shirts and a pair of boy-short underwear.

"Is Scott home?" He asks before pointing to his ear, letting me know that he's really wondering if he's within listening range.

"Nope, just me." I respond, looking down at my feet, feeling nervous for a multitude of reasons.

He walks over so that he's standing right in front of me. I reach out and grab his hand, pulling it around my waist and he follows my lead with his other hand.

I nuzzle my head into his chest and let his familiar scent fill my nose. This is home.

"Is it still bothering you?" He finally asks what he's been dying to this whole time.

I laugh a little before pulling away from the hug and nodding my head, looking anywhere but at him.

"Look at me, Alara. I'm here for you." He whispers, placing a finger under my chin and focusing all my attention on him.

"I killed again, Stiles, and I don't really want to talk about it yet." I tell him the truth. He nods his head before pulling his hand away from my chin and flopping down onto my bed.

"Well, this definitely won't lighten the mood, but you need to know." He says as he sits on the edge of the bed and I stand in front of him, looking down to meet his eyes.

"What is it?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"The three murders weren't just normal werewolf murders. They were rituals." He tells me, his mouth forming a straight line, and I can tell he's getting lost in thought on the subject.

"Like human sacrifices?" I question, folding my arms over my chest as I begin to pace back and forth.

"Exactly like that."

"What's the pattern?" I ask, stopping my pacing and turning towards him again.

"Virgins." He states bluntly. I choke on my own spit as the word leaves his mouth.

"Well, I am very high risk." I joke, straining a laugh. He chuckles before falling backwards and resting his head on his hands.

I feel my heartbeat pick up as I slowly make my way over to him. Hesitantly, I crawl onto the bed and on top of him, positioning myself so that I'm straddling his waist.

Underneath me, his body stiffens, and his eyes widen. I reach down, brushing his hair back with my right hand and sliding my left underneath his shirt.

"We don't have to be at risk, you know." I speak up, my voice shaky. He smiles at me mischievously before standing up. Like, all the way up.

I gasp, thinking he's going to let me slide to the floor, but instead, he effortlessly grabs underneath my thighs and picks me up with him, turning us around and gently laying me on the bed so that I'm now underneath him.

Before I can let any words escape my mouth, he's closing the distance between us. I feel his groin press into my core as he pushes himself into me from between my legs. I moan at the feeling, causing him to do it again, but letting out his own whimpers here and there.

I slide my hands down his chest, not daring to break the kiss. When my fingers reach his zipper, I go to undo it, but am stopped by Stiles pulling away and backing up.