girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

elle est éveillée

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Her first instinct is to run.

Bea's mind reacts before her body does, and she is too slow as she turns around, desperately attempting to unlock the door and get out. Aiden is faster, grabbing her hips and turning her around, slamming her back harshly into the wood of the front door. The doorknob digs into her back, and his hands grips her hips tightly.

"What are you doing here?!" Bea exclaims with wide eyes, looking up at the werewolf before her. She struggles against him, trying to push him away.

Aiden smirks down at her, grabbing her wrists in a death grip and pinning them to the door behind her. A whimper falls from her lips at the pain of the doorknob digging into her back mixed with his torturous grip on her wrists.

"I've been special orders to retrieve you as certain...bait, I guess you could say," he responds vaguely, his face only a few inches from hers.

"You must be trying to catch a pretty big fish, then," Bea remarks, turning her head to the side to keep his breath from infiltrating her nostrils.

"No fish. Just a werewolf?"

Her eyebrows cinch. "Scott?"

His lips brush against her ear, sending a shuddered chill down her spine as she cringes away from his touch. She feels his smirk against her skin as he corrects, "Derek."

"Why do you need me for Derek? I just met him a few days ago," she reminds, closing her eyes to imagine herself anywhere other than here. Her efforts are fruitless as her dark eyelids are replaced with the cold, unwelcoming cement walls her eleven-year-old self never thought she would escape.

The grip on her wrists feels so familiar, and she swears she can feel the metal cuff locked around her ankles. A shiver rolls up her spine as her back presses against the cold concrete, cowering her body away from what she knows is the inevitable. His breath fans the side of her face, the recognizable scent of whiskey sending her heart falling to the floor in dread. 

Her eyes shoot open, knowing she would rather be here than to ever be back there. She wriggles her wrists in his grip, trying to slip them from his hands. His grip tightens so hard, she is surprised her wrists do not break.

"We know Derek would do anything for Scott, especially anything he can to save the newest member of Scott's pack," Aiden explains. "Deucalion knows what he wants, and he is infatuated with Derek."

"I think his infatuation has led to an obsession." Without a second more of hesitation, Bea raises her leg up, kicking Aiden between the legs. The werewolf bends over in pain, releasing his grip on her wrists. She sends a kick to his chest, sending him to the floor.

Quickly, Bea hops over him, rushing to the kitchen where she had left her phone. Her hands frantically search her bag, latching onto her phone in success. She takes it out of her bag, quickly looking for Stiles' number. However, a hand weaves its way through her hair, pulling her backwards to the ground. She yells out in pain, her head hitting the wooden floor rather harshly as her phone clatters several feet from her.