Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction) Continued

Required Reading Part 2

I was maybe a quarter through the book when Scott said, "Anyone feel anything yet?"

"Tried," Kira said.

"Hungry," Lydia said.

"Eye fatigue," I sassed.

"I think he meant the book," Theo said. I turned my glare to him, silently warning him not to mess with me right now. Stiles and Malia had gone off into the kitchen for coffee. As everyone went back to reading, I noticed Theo angle his head towards the kitchen, listening to their conversation. I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't let him see me spying on him.

"You know what, I need a break," I muttered. I threw the book to the side, making sure it saved my page, and walked into the kitchen. I greeted Malia and Stiles quietly as I pulled down a coffee mug. I filled it, both of them completely silent like I'd intruded on a conversation.

Stiles' heart was racing, but he wasn't reading or doing any physical activity. I thought about ignoring it, but then I remembered Sheriff's request for help. I set the coffee pot down with a sigh.

"Stiles, can I talk to you?" Stiles looked at me in surprise, and his eyes flicked once to Malia. He nodded and stood. I turned, walking back through the living room. I glanced at Theo, and his eyes were following me and Stiles. I led Stiles up to my room, closing the door behind me and locking it.

"What did yo-?"

"Sh." I held my finger to my lips, and he quieted down, watching me curiously. I turned my back to him, fiddling with the dial on the radio until it got to a song I liked. I turned up the music enough that the wolves (and coyotes) downstairs wouldn't be able to hear. "I think Theo was listening."

Stiles nodded in understanding, then repeated his question. I stood in front of him, making sure my face held a look of friendliness.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What? Nothing. I'm fine." Stiles rubbed his right shoulder absent-mindedly, wincing lightly. I frowned at him, the smell of his blood wafting into my nose.

"Stiles, please quit lying to me. I know you're not fine. I can smell the blood," I said.

"Yeah, the Jeep died on me again. I had to check the engine and the hood fell on it." I didn't believe him at all, but I nodded anyway, pretending to accept that answer. "So can I go now? Are we done?"

I nodded again, and the second he turned to leave, I grabbed his shirt and yanked it back until I could see the wound. It was in the shape of a circle, and pretty deep. Most of it had scabbed over, but some of it was still bleeding. It would leave a nasty scar. If I wasn't mistaken, it almost looked like teeth marks, like someone had taken a big bite out of his shoulder.

Stiles shoved me away, groaning in anger as he rolled his shoulder to get his shirt back in place. He was angry with me, that much was evident, but I could also tell whatever was going on with him had something to do with that wound.

"What is that? That is not a hood wound. I have seen what it looks like when the hood falls on you, and it's not that," I said, not daring to let this conversation end. Stiles scowled at me, his eyes revealing a hidden despair in them. Softer, I continued. "Stiles. Please just talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"I can't. I can't talk to anyone about this," he replied, shaking his head.

"You can talk to me. Please, Stiles. You don't have to go through this alone."

What I said must've been appealing because he nodded after a second and sat down on the edge of my bed. He looked as if he had come to some realization about me, and I looked at him, ready to listen.