𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

A SWITCH UP

"CAN I MAKE A PHONE CALL?"

The charge nurse hadn't even heard the blonde approach the desk, visibly startling a little by her sudden presence. Nonetheless, she nodded with a polite smile, handing the phone to the girl she'd seen camped out in the hospital for the last few days.

Emerson gave her a tight-lipped smile in return, only punching in a number she'd recently memorized once the nurse walked away from her post with a chart in hand. With bated breath she waited for him to answer, but—

"This is Derek Hale. Leave a message."

Emerson held back a growl of annoyance, but the urge instantly died when she realized that this might be a better way to go about doing this. To her, it was better to confess to a voicemail than to the man who would've only tried to stop her.

"I'm going to do something stupid, and you're going to let me."

ೃ࿔*:⋆

Emerson found herself in a familiar situation, standing in the middle of her house, waiting for Deucalion to show up.

This time her surroundings were a little different; someone had cleaned the house. The furniture that had been broken was still broken nonetheless, and that stain on the floor couldn't be washed away, but the debris was gone. Hell, the door had been screwed back onto its hinges.

It should've eased her, but it unsettled her because who in their right mind would clean up a crime scene? A crime scene that a killer werewolf had under his pack's watchful gaze. He'd be aware of anyone going in or out, hence why she chose it as the place to meet.

Emerson smelt the man before she heard him, or more so the eerie tapping of his cane against the concrete outside. His steps were deliberate, they always were, until he stepped through the door she'd left open.

"Deucalion," she greeted, watching as he came to a stop just a few feet in front of her.

He retracted his cane with a few sharp snaps, his lips pursed. "I would've thought that after our last conversation, you'd begin to call me Dad," he responded instead, using an American accent to pronounce that last word.

She couldn't help but scowl. "That's wishful thinking."

"Perhaps," he hummed, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, "though I must say, I'm surprised to see you here. How is Hannah, by the way?"

Her lip curled back. "I'm here to make you an offer."

"Oh?" he inquired, intrigue present in his tone. "Let's hear it, then."

"I want you to lay off the Hale pack, and I want you to let Hannah live," she proposed, her chin raised as she spoke. "In exchange, I'll join your pack. I'll do whatever you say if those terms are met."

He gave her a flat sort of look. "This deal of yours doesn't seem very fair," he said. "You get so much, and yet I only get a singular new addition instead of two. Doesn't really help me, does it?"

"I'm not gaining anything from joining you! In fact, I'll lose everyone," she snarled, her fists balled at her side. "You said it yourself; I'm your flesh and blood, born with unbridled power. I'm stronger than Derek and the others combined."