R I C H • Stiles Stilinski BAMF

G O O D B Y E

GOODBYE⎮CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The trees swayed in the gentle breeze and the wind ruffled the black cloak that hung over my shoulders. 

The coat which protected my skin from the occasional sharp bite of the winter air, hid me in the shadows as my palm brushed the bark of the pink blossoming tree. My eyes were momentarily captured by the beautiful bouquet of lilies which rested on top of the oak coffin. 

The brief exchange across the police officer's receivers crackled like electricity in my fox ears, while the occasional bright flash of the cameras caught the fluorescent hue of blue in my inhuman iris'. My name caught my attention as Scott shifted uncomfortably in his second-hand suit, "Has anyone seen Stiles yet?"

The pack's eyes moved across the crowds of people never catching the hooded figure hiding in the shadows. "He wouldn't miss his father's funeral," Lydia whispered comfortingly, placing her hand on Scott's shaking knee. Obviously, I wouldn't miss my father's funeral, that would be pretty inconsiderate. But I couldn't just walk over to the pack and join them in the front row, those few days spent with them had not meant I'd forgiven them. I had much graver and life-threating things to attend to. 

In saying this, I checked my watch and watched icily as my father's body was laid to rest. Securing the hoodie over my face I made my way towards the gate when a strong gust of wind blew my cover;  it happened immediately.

The supernatural noses rose into the air and the paparazzi's flashes succumbed me.  "Mr. Stilinski, what are your plans for your business following the rise of J.R law and guidance?"

"Are you taking a leave of absence in regard to your father's death?" The lights flashed violently in my face and an instinctual growl was drawn from my throat. 

"Get out of my way!" I commanded with a god-like authority I hadn't known I possessed. The ground shook beneath us and then I smelt the wolves. "Don't," I said, face turned to the ground.

"Stiles," Scott begged, "we can help, please." 

I turned and allowed my blue eyes to drill through his, "You really can't McCall," I spat venomously through my fangs, "This is a god's war," I hissed, "he has sent his warriors to assassinate me and anyone who dares to stand by my side. You will not stand a chance when he sets foot on this earth."

"We can," Scott pushed, "together."

In the background, a reporter daringly asked, "Is this your new boyfriend, Mr Stilinski?" I scowled deeply.

"Scott, you stick to saving Beacon Hills, and I'll stick to my vengeful plan to put Zeus 6 feet below Hell." I finally turned to face him with flaming eyes, "You will weigh me down, you're too weak mentally and physically for this," I spat and then laughed bitterly. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

I slipped my sunglasses on before facing the group of reporters, "If I see one more flash of your camera's, or hear one more stupid question directed towards me I will be seizing all of your camera gear and filing a lawsuit against your company." All of them stilled looking between themselves once before packing up their gear. 

"Where are you going to go? Huh?How are you going to kill your father?" Scott scowled as if I didn't have a plan. 

I grinned, "I'm going to hell," I drawled, "and I'm bringing it back with me." 

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