𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

A HUMAN AND TWO WOLVES

ULTIMATELY, FINDING THE ALPHA PACK WAS PROVING TO BE HARDER THAN THEY THOUGHT.

Aside from taking Erica and Boyd, something that Emerson was extremely certain about, they hadn't made any moves of intercepting the pair of alphas. It was strange, because Deucalion never waited this long before striking— before making an appearance with those dark crimson eyes.

But it seemed like they, too, were playing the waiting game, and Emerson hadn't the faintest of clues as to why they switched up now.

The overlap in geographical areas between the loft and the Prescott home was large, they knew it, but in the two weeks that had since passed, they barely scratched the surface. Who knew Beacon Hills had so many abandoned properties? It was making their job harder than it already was.

For the most part it had been Derek, Emerson, and Isaac prowling around such properties, but more often than not, Emerson found herself alone with the older man. It was easier being around him now that they had a common goal, and as a result they fought less and less, not that either of them would tell you they noticed that trend.

It was soon the middle of summer, and they pair were knee deep in searching through their fourth abandoned warehouse, when the shrill ringing of Emerson's phone sounded through the air. Derek paused in his tracks as he was sniffing around the building, literally, for clues, watching as she answered.

"Kinda in the middle of some trespassing right now, Han."

Emerson caught the way Derek rolled his eyes, and she merely stuck her tongue out at him while she waited for Hannah to speak. "What time will you be home for dinner?"

"Uh—" she glanced around the giant warehouse and winced at the ground they still had yet to cover. "Maybe in an hour? Or two?"

A sigh was heard. "Okay, as long as you're being careful," she ended up saying. "I'll set the table for three, then."

Derek's eyes darted to the phone in her hand at the same time that Emerson's eyebrows furrowed. "Three?" Her gaze met Derek's.

"Well, I think it's well within my right to know the ex-fugitive you've been spending your time with lately," the Prescott woman said pointedly, and Emerson could almost see the stern look on her face.

She tried to downplay what her guardian was saying when she caught the corner of Derek's mouth tick upward. "I don't spend all my time with—"

"Just don't be late, please." And then, the dial tone.

Emerson cleared her throat, putting her phone back into the pocket of her shorts. "So," she started, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "guess you're invited to dinner."

Derek gave her an exasperated look, but beneath it was an emotion she could identify within a heartbeat. Weariness. "Did she just call me an ex-fugitive?"

It wasn't a no.

"Derek, you are an ex-fugitive," she responded matter-of-factly. "You've been a fugitive, like, multiple times over the last year."

"They dropped all the charges," he emphasized, crossing his arms over his chest as he started to walk away.

She scrambled after him, slowing once she fell into step with him. "Hence the term ex-fugitive. Seriously, how did you even graduate high school?"