Midnight Scarlet » Stilinski

Twenty-Three

                                                        Chapter Twenty-Three

                                                                   • Derek •

Cold water runs over my skin, leaving shivering trails. After the fire, I promised myself that I would never touch the heat again. If that means cold showers for all eternity, then so be it. 

Above the water, I can hear Peter raging downstairs. When he discovered that Aubrey had left because this house wasn’t safe for her anymore, he shifted for the first time after his resurrection, nearly tearing my throat out. He thought it was my fault that she was gone, which I guess in a way is true. Peter might think of her as a sort of prisoner of war, but I see her as she really is― a fierce (if not frightened) teenage girl harboring a dangerous power. 

When I was little, my parents taught me and Laura everything there was to know about our world; it was home schooling for werewolves. They were only legends, really, but we learned about “the descendant.” How those who carried the blood of the very first werewolf were automatically more powerful than any normal alpha; they had the natural-born talent of control. I never thought legends and myths were true, even if werewolves and kanimas and the like existed. But now that I know what Aubrey is― I can smell it in her blood― I keep wondering if all the legends are true. And if they are, that means that Aubrey has no self-control. 

The thing she might need to be protected from the most is herself. 

A howl sounds from outside, full of happiness, if only a slight tinge of sadness. Aubrey. I would know that sound anywhere. 

Yesterday, Stiles came over to the house; I was surprised that his first instinct was to come here instead of meeting up in the god forsaken woods with Scott. He was bruised and bloodied, his eyes holding the panic of a wild animal trapped in captivity. According to him, Aubrey had given herself up to the alpha pack.I wanted to go over and find her right away, fight for her freedom. Peter was much more rational, planning first before acting, though he still shredded the wood paneling in the living room. More like the room of the dead and tormented. 

Now, the howl ricocheting through the cracked window alerts me that Aubrey has somehow escaped from the pack house once again. For a bunch of alphas, they can’t quite seem to figure out how to handle a teenage girl. 

Quickly grabbing for my towel, I turn the water off, letting the air raise bumps on my flesh. The last time she broke free, I had been lucky enough to be taking a walk through the woods, erasing the haze that nightmares left behind, when I smelled her spilled blood. This time, I’m going in prepared. 

Peter feels the need to interrogate Aubrey and make her fear him, but I don’t intend for that impression. I actually feel the somewhat ridiculous responsibility to protect her. As much as I want to, though, I can’t act on it. I’m still trying to get on Peter’s good side, since you generally want to exact revenge on someone who slit your throat― literally. So that means that for now, it’s his way or the highway. 

Already, Aubrey has wound her way into so many lives― Scott, Isaac, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia. Even me. 

When Peter killed Laura, I never thought that I could feel much again. But then I did. First with Scott, and then when I started to create a pack of my own― a family. And now, with Aubrey. 

She reminds me so much of Laura; she’s just like her. Feisty, brave, independent, and a natural leader. Even from a young age, Laura was always like that. Aubrey is the same way, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.