Teen She-Wolf

Chapter 6 - I Love It When You Come Over To My House

***DEREK***

The first rule of my pack is, you don't talk about my pack.

The second rule of my pack is, you don't talk about my pack.

And the third rule, which almost goes without saying, is that you don't fuck with my pack. Period.

I bare my fangs and flash my eyes at the twins. One of them backs off right away, instinctively. The other, the one holding Stiles and about to break his arm, barely flinches. I concentrate my efforts on this one, because the last thing I want to see is Stiles - or anyone else, for that matter - getting hurt on my watch. He doesn't back off as quickly as his brother, but eventually he does when I get within easy biting range. Yeah, I know, biting him would be redundant, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be an effective deterrent.

"Hands off the human," I growl, the sound rumbling from deep inside me. My eyes flick over to Stiles long enough to see him glare at me - but I'll just assume, for now, that it was an expression not of anger, but of pain. He's still holding his arm gingerly in front of himself. I didn't hear anything break or tear, but does that mean there's still some subtle damage? If so, I'll gladly go medieval on the pretty-boy Alpha's ass.

The pretty-boy Alpha in question sneers at me. "What do you care? He's not one of us. But he could be."

"Stiles is off-limits to you," I growl, sneering right back at him. "And the same goes for everyone else in this room."

The Alpha tilts his head back and does a huge, dramatic sniff. "Tell that to the tall brunette chick," he says. "Aiden, you bit her yourself, right?"

"She's much more my type than she is yours," says Aiden - it's nice to have a name to put to the face at last - his own nostrils (not to mention his pupils) dilating as he lopes Allison's way. Automatically, Scott gets in front of her, raring to fight - and, unbelievably, so does Isaac. They look at each other in surprise, their eyes still flashing gold.

"Boys, please," Allison says, pushing past them. "I appreciate the gesture, but I can defend myself."

"See, Ethan?" Aiden snickers. "Definitely more my type. Unlike you, I never did like 'em submissive."

"You know, 'bottom' doesn't necessarily equal 'submissive,'" Ethan says. "And what about you, brother?" He switches to a Scottish accent on that last word, no doubt attempting to imitate Desmond from Lost. But his Scottish accent is piss-poor, and the Renards, as genuine Brits, respond by smacking their foreheads in disturbing unison. "What about that one you tried to screw and turn in Hill Valley? Taylor, was it? Yeah, total submissive."

Aiden raises his eyebrows. "Taylor was in Central City, not Hill Valley. Get your facts straight, why don't you?"

Ethan snorts into his hand. "The facts are the only thing either of us can get straight."

"Screw and turn, you say?" Hunter asks out of nowhere. "You mean, like, how I got screwed and turned? Granted, the werewolf I slept with was a girl, but still, same basic principle, right?"

The twins exchange glances and scoff at each other. Then Ethan (I can tell them apart because Ethan has a small beauty mark above his eyebrow, which Aiden lacks) asks, "Dude...what the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to relate to you, of course," Hunter says, grinning rakishly at the twins. "Before the fists, fur, and fangs inevitably start to fly."

"How can you relate to us?" Aiden laughs. "You're not a werewolf, you're a werelynx. How does that work, I wonder? You don't have packs, do you?"

Hunter shakes his head. "Nope. Lynx are usually solitary creatures. I don't even think there's a term for a group of them."

"Lynx are solitary?" Skylar asks. "Well, I guess that explains a lot. Like why you never tried to make friends as a kid. Or why you went looking for love online instead of in person."