Imprinted [Sterek]

Chapter 26

It took Stiles a few more days before he felt ready to go to the Hale house. He was sitting in his Jeep outside of the home spinning the keys in his hand, wishing that he hadn't come. He wanted to be here, he needed to be here, but his head was telling him to run while he still could, his heart was telling him to grow a pair and walk through that door into the open arms of the people on the other side. Letting out a low growl Stiles slams his hands into the steering wheel of the Jeep, making the horn give a short beep. He bit his lip; it wasn't like they didn't already know he was there. They are werewolves after all.

Running his hands through his hair and over his face, he removed himself from the safety of his Jeep and slowly walked up to the front door. The scent of fresh paint lingered in the air, it was very faint, but it was apparent that the Hale's had just painted their house. Giving a knock to the olive green door, Stiles holds his breath when the door opens all too quickly.

"Stiles!" A girl who looked almost identical to Laura Hale pulled Stiles into a hug knocking the wind out of him. He knew this one, just shorter than he was, her eyes were brown with specs of green, her hair was brown with highlights running through it. He hadn't seen this girl in years.

"Hi, Cora." He smiled, hugging her back. They were a trio, Scott, Stiles, and Cora running around and causing trouble. Honestly, Scott and Stiles were causing trouble, and Cora was the one who saved them from getting their asses kicked by Jackson or another one of the people who thought they were better than everyone else. It was sometimes shocking how much people didn't care about Stiles father being the sheriff.

"You finally got cute." Cora laughed, pulling out of the hug and slowly walking into the house.

"Hey, I was always cute thank you very much." Stiles rolled his eyes following behind her. "So, your brother..."

"He isn't here right now. Neither is Scott." Cora said, looking over her shoulder at him. "Laura let us know when you left your house, so mom sent them off, she figured it might be a little easier to explain a few things to you if they weren't here."

"Oh." Stiles sighed, looking at the painting on the walls. They were ancient, the newer photographs hanging on the walls next to them looked very out of place.

"Down the hall second door on the left. Mom is in there waiting for you." Cora stopped giving Stiles a warm smile. "I'm glad you're back Stiles. I missed one of my partners in crime." She gave him one last hug before running down a different hall out of sight.

"I missed you too Cora," Stiles whispered, knowing that she would hear him. Stiles followed the hallway that she led him to, stopping outside of the second door on the left. It was now or never. There was no turning back at this point.

Grasping the brass doorknob, Stiles pushed the door open, finding an extensive study. At the end of it was a desk with a beautiful woman sitting at it. Talia Hale, she hadn't aged a day since Stiles last saw her when he was little. Laura was a carbon copy of her; he chuckled at how much Derek looked like her as well.

"Stiles. Come in, and please take a seat." She smiled, lifting her head to look at him.

"Mrs. Hale, how have you been?" He asked, taking the seat across from her.

"Better now that I know my song his home safe." She smiled, pulling off her reading glasses. "I'll be fantastic once we have you in a more comfortable state." Stiles gave her a weak smile knowing that might help.

"Where do you want to start?" He asked. They might as well get right into it. There was no reason to beat around the bush any longer.

"That question I should be asking you, Stiles, where would you like to start?" Talia gave the boy a sad smile knowing this was going to be hard on him.

"I guess the day all of this started. What happened? Why did it happen? Who did it?" Stiles sighed, looking down at his shaking hands. Stiles wanted the answers, but he was scared to hear them. Stiles was ready to understand who he was; it was time.