Little Red Prince

Chapter Eight

Derek and Stiles returned to the inn after Derek had shifted back and put his clothes on. As they walked, Stiles stayed closed to Derek. He kept brushing his hand against Derek’s, as if to remind himself that the man was real and actually standing next to him. Just before they reached the wall of Animas, Derek took Stiles’ hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was like he knew what Stiles was thinking. The touch, while small, left a blossoming heat in the pool of Stiles stomach that was comforting to him.

“I think we should probably be heading back,” Derek said after they entered their room. Stiles blinked and looked up at Derek. He hadn’t specified exactly where they were going to return to. Stiles hoped that he could stay with Derek for at least a little longer.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “You’re right. We’ve been here long enough,” The two then began to pack in a silence that wasn’t at all stifling.

The forest was full of sounds that surrounded them as they travelled. Stiles had felt the stares of the Animas people more fully when they had been leaving. But whether or not they were looking at him or Derek, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure. People were bound to know who he was soon after his audience with King Khufu. If he was given the title of Prince of Beacon Kingdom or the Mate of the Shifter—well, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure which he was ready to take on.

“Stiles?” Derek asked from his mount to the right of Stiles. The sudden noise startled Stiles and he looked up at Derek with wide eyes.

“What?” He said, hoping his voice was steadier than he felt.

“You haven’t said a word since we left the inn,” Derek mumbled, “Are you all right?”

“Oh,” Stiles paused, “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just,” his voice trailed off.

“It’s just?” Derek prompted.

Stiles chewed on his lower lip for a moment, “I’ve been thinking about a few things,”

Derek was silent, which Stiles took as encouragement for him to continue.

“The coyote woman in the market told me to “Beware the Black Dog.” I thought that had to do with you, because you know, you wore all black and the insignia on your tunic looked like a dog’s head,” Stiles shrugged, “Then I had a dream that a black dog was chasing me and I was just so scared. But then you were the black dog and I think you were trying to save me from something else?”

Derek blinked at Stiles. Stiles sighed and pushed a hand up through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “I don’t normally put that much in to dreams. So maybe I shouldn’t worry too much about this one either. Besides, your wolf is dark grey, not black,”

Derek nodded, “I wouldn’t worry about what the coyote woman said. Old superstition like that should usually be disregarded,”

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles replied.

After a moment, Derek spoke up, “That’s not all, is it?”

“Well,”

“The silence is more annoying than the questions,” Derek said with slight humor in his tone, “Just say whatever you’re thinking about,”

“Okay, um,” Stiles hesitated,”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was a low, warning growl.

“I’ve been thinking about what Khufu said about mates—how he said I’m your mate,” Stiles spat out like the words were fire.

The silence stretched between them and Stiles risked a glance at Derek. He inhaled sharply when he found Derek looking at him. His green eyes were gentle and looked almost a little hurt. But he cleared his throat and looked forward once more.