[BOOK TWO]
Once a deep and powerful connection between two people has been made they become a vital part in each other's lives and there is no separating them. No measure of distance or duration of silence can prevent the outbreak of smiles and laug...
It had seemed life was in slow-motion as the three teenagers ran into Boyd's room. Stiles had thrown open the door, seeing the bathtub filled with icy water. A huge, dark grey safe crushed the werewolf's stomach, his hands gripping the sides tightly as he struggled to breathe under the water. However, by the time the trio arrived he was no longer moving, and Stiles quickly shoved his hand in, trying to drain the tub.
"What do we do?"
Stiles' light brown eyes landed on the mini vault and he quickly motioned for the two girls to help him move it. It was much heavier than it looked, and even with all of their combined strength, it wouldn't budge, trapping Boyd underneath.
"Is he dead?" Lydia wondered nervously, seeing her classmate's unblinking eyes from where he laid. "How long can werewolves breathe underwater?"
"You think I know that?" Stiles snapped; annoyed by her pestering. There wasn't time to answer useless questions. They needed to find a way to get him out. He huffed, realizing trying to move the safe was pointless. As he stepped back, his arm accidentally brushed against the bathroom heater, making him jerk away in surprise.
The wheels in his head quickly turned as he remembered how Ethan snapped out of the fugue state whenever he burned his hand. Relaying the information to his friends, who were beginning to panic, through stutters, everyone realized they needed heat, or fire, to snap Boyd back to normal.
"Wait," Sierra realized, looking at her boyfriend with wide eyes. "The bus. They'll have emergency road flares."
"She's right," Lydia quickly agreed, nodding her head multiple times. "They have their own oxidizers and burn underwater."
"Are you serious?" Stiles asked them.
"Yes!" the strawberry-blonde yelled at him, "Now go!"
He didn't need to be told twice. Stiles bolted out of the room, running as fast as he possibly could. Lydia stayed on the tiled floor, anxiously looking at the African-American boy who hadn't even blinked. Sierra had backed out of the small room, beginning to feel claustrophobic from the stressful situation. Her ears perked from the sound of someone whimpering and her blue eyes fell to the bed behind her, her feet taking two steps closer to it.
Her breath hitched as she crouched down on her knees, picking up the orange blanket lightly with her fingers. Biting down on her lower lip, she forced herself to look underneath, despite every thought in her head telling her otherwise.
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A familiar curly-haired beta stared back at her, scared out of his mind. His body shook, his lips mumbling incoherently. Sierra quickly placed the blanket back down and took a couple steps back, wishing Stiles would hurry.
He appeared seconds later, two flares in his right hand with no clue in how to light them. "Oh give it to me!" Sierra ripped one of them from his grasp, flawlessly striking it against the cap like a match. The sight of the red flame made Sierra sprint into the bathroom, not hesitating for a second as she stuck her hand in the water to press the flare against Boyd's side.
