Neriah Hale lost her family at the age of ten, leaving her in the town of Beacon Hills with no one but two boys and a secret that she'd spent her whole life hiding. But when one of the two boys gets bitten, she has to reveal her true self to help sa...
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STILES pushed his jeep past the speed limit with my father in the passenger while I sat in the back, dressed in Stiles's spare clothes he left in here.
The wound in my side still throbbed, and it was bleeding, thanks to my pathetic father. When an Alpha attacks you, it takes longer to heal, which was why I was still damn struggling in pain.
"Don't feel bad," Peter drawled, looking at Stiles and then me. "If she lives, she'll become a werewolf. She'll be incredibly powerful."
"Yeah, and once a month, she'll go out of her freaking mind and try to tear us apart," Stiles snapped, focusing on the road.
Peter looked back at me, and I put as much hatred as I could into my glare. "You didn't tell him?" he mused and then turned back to Stiles. "Well, actually, considering that she's a woman, twice a month."
Stiles looked back at me with a gaping mouth, and I sank further back, pressing a hand to my side.
"I liked it better when you were in a coma," I spat, really wanting to punch Peter in the back of the head or break his nose on the dashboard.
"So did I," he mused. "At least you still cared about me then."
"You just attacked me!" I exclaimed. "There's blood still dripping out of me!"
"Technically, you attacked me first," he remarked, looking over his shoulder at me.
"You attacked Lydia! Of course, I'm going to attack you!" I shouted, and he slowly looked forward again, staying quiet. "Yeah, keep that werewolf mouth shut, you bastard."
A few minutes later, Stiles drove into a parking lot, taking us up two levels with Peter's directions before he parked.
They both got out, and I grunted, trying to go as fast as I could to get out the door.
The second I got out, Peter roughly dragged Stiles over to a car.
"You don't have to be so rough with him," I spat, following after them with a limp as pain filled the left side of my body.
Ignoring me, Peter pulled out a set of keys when he stopped behind a car with Stiles, and I caught up to them.
"Whose car is this?" Stiles asked, wrapping an arm around my waist to take on part of my weight.
"It belongs to my nurse," Peter simply answered, unlocking the boot with the keys.
"What happened to your..." I trailed off, cringing at the sight of Jennifer dead in the back of the car.
"Oh my God!" Stiles yelled, taking us a step back.
Peter carelessly lifted her arm up, grabbed the bag, and then shoved it into Stiles's arms. "I got better," he said with no other context.
Snatching the bag back off Stiles, he slammed the boot closed, throwing the bag on top. I sent Peter an annoyed look as he took out a laptop—correction, my old laptop—and turned it on.
