Love Saves {Sterek: Book Two}

Prologue

Derek:

Derek slid the book across the desk, flipping his attention to another. His eyes stared intently on the page - like he had been for several, several hours. Any clue, anything he could find to help Stiles he would search night and day for it.

Nothing added up correctly. 

The fire. There was no need for the fire. No one was there, they have other meeting places they could go, the house wasn't anything special - other than it being Derek and Stiles'.

Stiles accepting their kidnapping without a word against it. No fighting, no sarcastic comments. He just went, leaving all of them there in the massive wake his absence caused.

The lack of movements from each side - the Hale-McCall Pack and the Calaveras. It was as if they were playing chess - a stalemate that wasn't broken no matter what move, even though there were none, was made.

The situation as a whole make Derek's head hurt, his eyes constantly doing a double-take when he felt he found something - only to be met with immense sadness when it came up to be a lost cause.

Derek sighed heavily, pushing the book in front of him away. Stiles was so much better at this than him, than anyone else in the Pack. He could have the seven books Derek had in front of them, a small description of what they were up against - smell, eye color, activity pattern- and he could find it within an hour or two - supernatural creatures or anything else.

That's when the light clicked on in Derek's head. He was digging to far into it - maybe. The Calaveras weren't supernatural, but they were associated with it.He could narrow his search slightly, but from what he has read, it wasn't by much. 

Still no clues.

Derek stood from the desk chair in Stiles' room and moved towards the bed, sitting on the edge carefully. He reached between his legs and revealed the few boxes of items that were his from the fire - the items Stiles spent his time looking for while the fire spread around him. 

Derek flipped through some of the old items from his old life. Pictures of his mother, sisters. The entire family was in a few - bright smiles plastered on their faces. Derek allowed a small smile spread on his face, flipping the picture over.

June 17th, Derek's 16th Birthday

The message stopped Derek from moving. From breathing - thinking.

His mother's handwriting. His mother's handwriting three months before the fire that took her's, and most of his family's, life. 

Derek put the picture back into the pile and searched for more recent photos. 

He stopped when he pulled one of him and Stiles out of the bunch. It was a picture from two weeks ago - if that - of them cuddling in their sleep on the couch. Derek smiled and pulled another out, this one of Stiles and him dancing absentmindedly in the open area of the Packhouse's living room. Derek flipped the picture over.

Alpha Hale and his Mate, Stiles Stilinski, dancing. Hale-McCall Packhouse - 10/3/15

Derek didn't recognize the handwriting but figured it to be one of the girls as the 'i's were dotted with hearts. Derek moved to the stack once more, pulling out another picture. This was further back in the timeline that was their lives together. Back before the Nogitsune, right before it, actually. The entire Pack was together, except Stiles. Derek figured he'd been the one to snap the shot, the scribbled writing on the backside of the photo confirming his suspicions.

Derek examined the photo, nothing out of the ordinary catching his eye. He looked closer, though, and saw the rough, dark box of his mother's claws - or what used to hold his mother's claws until Peter placed them in the family vault - sitting on the table between the teens. 

Derek's face was alive with terror and worry as he through the pictures back in the box and began searching through everything for the jar.

The jar that kept them safe for all those months.

Stiles:

Stiles was perched in a tree, his throat rough from dehydration and his vision spotty from exhaustion. He held the pistol in his hand - which was shaking ever so slightly - and aimed it cautiously towards the forest floor.

He had successfully evaded the Calaveras for the past three days, running on no food and limited water. 

Stiles was tired, more tired than he had ever been before. As he began slipping from reality, he could have sworn he heard the wind speak to him.

You need me, Loki.

* A/N: Hi guys and gals, I am very excited to welcome you all to my new story, Love Saves, a sequel to Love Kills. This is only just a small bit of what is to come in this story.

A large part of this story revolves around Norse and Slavic (mainly Polish) mythology. Norse mythology is already a minor part in Teen Wolf - especially surrounding the times of the Darach, and the Polish mythology will explore Stiles' background.

No, Loki is not the 'superhero' Loki (I'm sorry if he's not a hero I'm not familiar with the series).

The story will fall back on past events and the histories between the character in order for them to find the clue and rescue Stiles.

Lastly, that jar (I hope you all know which I am describing, if not see the photo attached to this chapter) will play a very large and key part in this story (both bad and good).

Thank you all for the support you have given me in creating both this story and my previous one. You guys are the best! *