Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Six

THE TRIO HADN'T HESITATED TO LEAVE THE HALE PROPERTY AFTER NOAH CAUGHT THEM.

Now, the Jeep traveled back to the city and followed the winding road. Scott sat in the passenger seat like he always did, with Stiles behind the wheel and Sierra resting in the back.

The girl kept her eyes closed, her back pressing against the leather seat. She couldn't focus on the boys chattering about wolfsbane, too lost in her mind to erase the image of the dead girl they found buried at Derek's house.

There was something about her dark eyes. Wide open, they had stared at Sierra. Like Derek, a sense of familiarity washed over Sierra from looking at her. But the long brown hair matted against the girl's forehead, the top half of the body stained with dirt and blood proved to be more prominent. She didn't want to think about Derek, the girl, or his words. He said they went way back, but what did that even mean?

"Sierra."

She knew Scott and Stiles wouldn't want her near Derek, especially now that he's been arrested. Yet, she couldn't help but think that all her weird dreams and the girl buried could all be explained if they gave the werewolf a chance to speak.

"Sierra!"

Sierra blinked, her thoughts dissolving as she glanced towards the front of the Jeep. Scott stared at her with concern as Stiles eyeballed her through the rearview mirror.

"Are you okay?" he asked, keeping one hand on the wheel.

"I'm fine," she shrugged it off and leaned forward to poke her head between their seats. "Sorry, what were you guys talking about?"

Stiles didn't buy her lie but respected her decision about not wanting to talk and got back on the subject. "Um, we were talking about the wolfsbane," he said. "Maybe it's like a ritual or something. Maybe they bury you as a wolf."

"Or maybe it's like a special skill, you know?" Sierra thought aloud. "Like something you have to learn."

"I'll put it on my to-do list, right underneath figuring out how the hell I'm playing this game tonight," Scott muttered.

"Maybe it's different for girl werewolves," Stiles suggested.

Scott snapped, "Okay! Stop it!"

Stiles and Sierra glanced at each other in confusion. "Stop what?"

"Stop saying werewolves! Stop enjoying this so much!"

"Are you okay?" Sierra asked him cautiously from the back seat.

"No! No, I'm not," he replied harshly and leaned forward with squinted brown eyes. "I'm so far from being okay!" His face twitched as beads of sweat started to form at his hairline.

"You're going to have to accept this, Scott, sooner or later," Stiles told him.

"I can't."

"Well, you're gonna have to."

"No!" Scott disagreed as his chest rose and fell heavily. "I can't breathe!" His hand shot up to the roof of the Jeep. His teeth clenched.

Sierra widened her eyes. "Woah, woah, Scott!"

Stiles swerved the car to the right in the leaves, trying to look at his best friend and the road simultaneously.

"Stiles!" Sierra shouted at him. "Focus on not killing us! Just pull over!"

"Why, what's happening?"

Scott grabbed Stiles's bag and ripped it open to reveal the wolfsbane rope. "You kept it?"