Stiles' Eyes | Sterek

Coward

^Those are my drafts rn, I wanted to know if anyone's interested and wants to suggest what I should publish next since this ff is nearing an end.
Also, apologies for not posting in almost a month, this chapter is shorter than usual but better to write a short chapter and get it out sooner I guess.
Enjoy ~ FRT

[Stiles]
I stared at the note Derek had found earlier. It was from Peter, he must've left it when he came to fight me.
I'm scheduling a meeting. Tomorrow at my pack's place. You better be there, Stiles. Both you and Derek. No one else. Just you two.
Why just us two? I questioned myself. Sighing I ripped the note in two, not wanting to deal with asshole werewolves.

{1 day later}
I stood in front of Peter's pack, awaiting his arrival. He knows I've been paranoid since he left the note 'scheduling a meeting'. By that, I'm guessing he means he wants a rematch.

"So where exactly is your precious pack member?" I questioned the pack, grabbing Derek's hand for comfort.

"He's almost here. He... had errands to complete," one of the taller males said, being extremely cryptic.

"Let me guess, that 'errand' is something to do with killing me?" I asked sarcastically, the man just shrugged and smirked. I growled at his reaction, calming down once Derek gripped my hand tighter.

"You'd be right, Stiles," Peter said, entering the room. I growled once again, this time Derek's hand didn't provide my with comfort.

"Why did you call us here?" Derek questioned, "why couldn't our pack come?" He added,

"I prefer to outnumber you, have more power over you," Peter explained. I scoffed.

"That makes you a coward, Peter. Can't face us without your backup? Coward," I told him, a harsh glare resting on my face.

"That glare would be more intimidating if you weren't holding my nephews hand like a child," Peter retorted, a smug grin on his face.

"You'd be more intimidating if you didn't require your whole packs' presence," I shot back, his grin faltered,

"Touché," he muttered, "now, let's get down to business," he continued. I removed my hand from Derek's and extended my claws, shifting as I did so. "You always assume the worst, Stiles. I must say, that can both help you or get you killed," he stated before shifting.

"Don't let anyone beat you apart from me," I whispered to Derek, whilst watching Peter stalk forward. He slashed at me but I hastily dodged, returning the attack. We continued swatting at each other for a few minutes before he managed to sink his claws into my stomach.
"You've got an edge," I muttered, "what have you done to yourself?" I asked,

"Remember when we dealt with the Darach at the hospital? Scott and I injected ourselves with something to make us stronger," Peter explained, "it's quite similar to that really, only stronger and it lasts longer," he added. I felt my eyes shift to their alpha red, the power was draining out of me. I howled as I began to be overwhelmed with pain, one of the loudest howls I've heard come out of my mouth. I saw Derek wince before stalking forward, prepared to attack Peter but he was stopped by multiple pack members. "I've also gotten in contact with someone extremely powerful who's given me something extremely powerful. I can take your power and make it mine, Stiles," he told me. Blood was now rising in my throat so I was unable to respond,

"Stiles," I heard Derek mutter, "your eyes are blue," he muttered before a hand was clamped over his mouth. I closed my eyes as I heard growls approaching the building. The pack was coming. I smiled slightly before coughing up my blood.

"You're almost dead, Stiles. Your pack won't save you," he whispered. As if on a timer, I herd the scream of a banshee and the cries of the pack. I only listened as they burst trough the door, fighting the betas of Peter's pack. I re-opened my eyes to see Derek free from the betas restraints and stalking towards Peter once again. He ripped his claws out of my stomach and tossed him aside. I dropped to the floor, bashing my head in the process. Black spots clouded my vision and I heard a second scream from the strawberry blonde banshee.

[Derek]
I growled at my uncle as he caught my wrist before I could slash his throat.

"Your mate over there is unconscious, almost dead... do you really want to waste your time killing me?" he questioned,

"Yes," someone growled from behind me, momentarily distracting Peter so I could rip out his throat. I stood up and saw Scott behind me, smiling sympathetically. "Help Stiles," he whispered, "I'll call Deaton," he added. I nodded and rushed to Stiles' side.

"Stiles?" I muttered, testing to see if Peter was telling the truth. His heartbeat was there, but his consciousness wasn't. I sighed and shook him, trying to wake him up. "I'm sorry for this but I have to wake you up," I whispered before pressing down on his wound. His eyes shot opened and he hissed in pain.

"What the fuck, Der?" He shouted before whimpering in pain.

"You needed to wake up, I don't want you slipping away from me," I told him, Stiles smiled.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, sourwolf,"