My True Pack.

Chapter 29

Third Person's Point of View.

Thomas knew he fucked up.

He wasn't supposed to open his eyes but he did open his eyes. Or what was left of his eyes. And what he was wasn't Hell. Like he waited to be but it was a white room. There was nothing than white in the room. He knew something was wrong.

"You never knew when to quit, didn't you?" Mark's voice sounded more happier than when he was screaming at Thomas.

This last one turned to face the man. And took a step back when he saw him. Mark's hair was no longer white, it was his normal color of light brown, he had his two eyes, he didn't look tired and he seemed happier. The last time Thomas saw him like that was when they worked for WICKED.

"I'm dead, aren't I? Because you're dead!" Thomas exclaimed.

Mark laughed, completly amused by his friend's reaction. "Not quite, Stiles. You did open your eyes and you're experimenting a seizure right now. You're quite gone. But not that gone yet."

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. "You called me Stiles."

Mark's grin got bigger. "Isn't that your name?"

"Tell me what are you doing here, just tell me." Thoma sighed. Not wanting to waste any time.

"Now that's the right question, Stiles."

■□■□

"What the heck is happening?!" Janson yelled to his workers. Because for some reason, even if the two subjects opened their eyes, they were still alive.

"We don't know, sir. The seizure stopped minutes ago but they're still alive. We are trying to find something in their brain activity but it's like they didn't even experience the hallucinations." A worker said, trying to find something to make his boss happy.

"How is that even possible?! They're not angels or aliens. They should been dead!" Janson threw his hands in the air.

"It looks as if they never had the hallucinations, sir. Almost as if..." The worker made a pause. "As if it was supernatural."

■□■□

"You did it, Stiles. You did what you wanted. You're going to defeat WICKED." Mark smiled at Thomas.

"Well, a payback for all we'd done." Thomas sighed.

"There was so much that I needed to tell you but didn't have the time. And I don't have so much time right now. So, let me tell you why I'm here."

"Carry on."

"You're a Berserker. Yes, the bad kind. Because of your acts and the acts of the Human in the story. You're a Úlfheðinn. A Wolf Warrior and a cursed one too. You're also the Wolf King. True Alpha by experience, the other wolves gave up the rank for you. You're one the most powerful werewolves in the story."

Thomas paled. "I didn't want to be one. I wasn't even bitten."

Mark shook his head. "You loved Newt so much and you cared about Scott so much that you became one by default. Like the Human and the Beta." Mark's grin disappeared. "But be careful. You have two anchors. Scott and Newt."

"I didn't care abou--."

"Stiles, you didn't want them to come because you didn't want them to be hurt. You were oozing sadness and empathy when you first came to the school. And to be honest, a bit of excitement. You cared about him. You cared about all of them."