The Omen

ꕥ Chapter Thirty-Two ꕥ

I had woken up the next morning laying on a metal table at the veterinary clinic. Pain shot through my stomach and my hand flew to where the knife had been in me. I rolled my legs off the table and pushed myself onto the ground, landing with a small groan. 

I walked over to a mirror and lifted my shirt up and peered at a new scar I appeared to have in the middle of my stomach right below my last rib. The room around me was silent and I faintly heard two people talking in the front of the clinic. 

I figured Deaton had shut down the place for the day in order to help me and I'm assuming Scott earlier. There were two voices. One that I recognized was Deaton, and the other was a woman voice. 

I stepped forward and peaked around the corner to see Deaton talking to Miss Morrell. I raise an eyebrow before jerking back and grabbing my phone from my pocket. I sent a text to Stiles asking if he could pick me up before I opened the door, more noisily this time. 

Deaton and Miss Morrell turned towards me, both looking surprised. "You're awake." Deaton states, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I nod, shuffling on my feet. "What happened?" I ask, trying to remember what happened last night. I knew that Allison's mom had stabbed me, but I wasn't sure how I got here. 

"Derek brought you and Scott here." Deaton tells me, "You got injured last night and he knew I could help you." 

"Where's Scott?" 

Deaton sighs, "His injuries were less intense than yours. He knew you would be okay here so he left to go check something else out."  

I  hum quietly, not sure if I believed him. I trusted Deaton to tell the truth, he hadn't lied so far. What was confusing me was why Miss Morrell was here. I had thought I heard them talking about something coming here. I wanted to know what was coming. 

A honk from outside sounded and I jumped, facing the closed gate at the front of the store. I raise my eyebrow at it and cross my arms, "Thats Stiles here to pick me up." I inform Deaton, knowing I can't pass the gate on my own. 

He nods and pushes the gate open, letting me pass. I thank him once more before I run out the door and towards the blue jeep outside. Stiles was sitting in the drivers seat, impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. 

"Hey." I grin, throwing open the door and clambering into the seat next to him. 

The jeep was silent, apart from the normal groan of the engine from underneath the hood. Stiles seemed significantly more anxious than he normally was. "Whats wrong?" I ask, leaning closer to him. "What happened?"

"What happened?" He scoffs, giving me an annoyed glare, "What happened is you got stabbed Hetha!" 

"And I'm fine." I retort, putting me fingers under his chin to keep him from looking away from me, "I healed, and I'm fine." 

"But what would have happened if you didn't?" Stiles whispers, looking down my arm at my face. 

I shake my head and press my lips to his. He freezes for a moment, not kissing me back. "Stiles." I whisper against his mouth, pulling away to press my forehead against his. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You're stuck with me for awhile." 

A small grin cracks across his face and he shakes his head, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. "I better be." 

"I'm glad you feel that way." I shift back in my seat and buckle the barely functioning seatbelt, "Because Lydia put us on set up for our party." 

"Set up?" He questions, tilting his head. 

I nod, running a hand through my hair and cringing. Lydia was always in charge of planning the parties. She, each and every year, went above and beyond what was expected. This year I had no doubt that she was planning something even bigger and better.