The Fox and The Wolf - Book One {Sterek}

Chapter 2: Nogitsune

Stiles was still missing, and still possessed by the nogitsune. It had been over a month since I had come home to find a bunch of sweaty, horny teenagers dancing in my loft. The scent was utterly revolting and offensive to my sensitive nostrils.

I remembered registering how cool it had looked though. I would have been impressed, if it wasn't in my damn house. I had taken in the scene before breaking it up, letting my eyes scan the crowd. I spotted all of the pack members, including the twins and Jackson's friend Danny, but the rest were strangers. I was looking for one in particular, having picked out his scent as soon as I walked in the door. That's when my eyes had landed on the familiar messy brown hair of Stiles, his face glued to the girls lips beside him. I felt a pang in my chest at that.

Get over yourself, Hale. I had thought to myself at the time.

Stiles had no idea how I felt. Hell, no one did. And even if he did, he wouldn't reciprocate my feelings. I was always mean and throwing him against walls and doing whatever else I had to do to hide my feelings.

Why him? I wondered for the millionth time. Why was the scrawny, sarcastic, mouthy Stiles my Spark? Well, not technically scrawny. People definitely just label him as skinny and scrawny, but they were so wrong. I had noticed the ropy muscles of his arms several times. Slight, or lithe was a better description.

He proved time and time again that he was stronger than he looked. Always stronger than he looked. Like that time he held me up in a pool for 2 hours when I was paralyzed from the Kanima venom. He could have just let me drown, or thrown me to the Kanima... but he saved my life instead. Despite the fact that I'm always so annoyed and angry when I'm around him.

I smiled at the thought of the young man who our biggest enemies always seemed to overlook, because he was human. They constantly made the mistake of thinking he was harmless and insignificant. Stiles would then blast that opinion out of the water with his trusty baseball bat. He was the most intelligent one in the pack, apart from Lydia. He had a natural talent for putting things together, and he repeatedly made the best plans of action. He also cared about every one of his friends and their safety, more than his own. This is where his idiocy came into play. I rolled my eyes as I considered how many times he refused to be left out just because he was human.

As much as I loved all of those things about him, I also hated them. The idiot would get himself killed one of these days. I admired his courage and persistence, but he couldn't heal the way the rest of us could. Wasn't as strong or fast. It's definitely a love hate relationship that I've got with his character. His sarcasm and hyperactivity were something else entirely, and uniquely Stiles. As much as his mouth pissed me off, it was a huge turn on that he had no problem standing up to me. And anyone else for that matter. I was constantly worrying about him, every time a new threat crossed the town line. Here's another opportunity for Stiles to get himself hurt.

Damn Scott and his damn human sidekick. How did I find myself roped in with these teenagers?

I sighed. I couldn't leave them even if I tried. I had known he was it the first night I found him and Scott stumbling around my property. Stiles is my Spark, whether I like it or not. That means that the pull to protect him and be around him is way too strong for me to even think about going anywhere else. I don't even know if I could leave Beacon Hills without nearly suffocating. I was stuck here because he is here. I definitely should have asked Deaton more about Sparks by now, but I didn't want him to suspect anything or ask questions. So I would keep doing what I was doing. No one else needed to know, not even Stiles himself. Especially not Stiles.

I let out a low growl that echoed around the empty loft. Not knowing where he was or if he was safe was making me slowly lose my mind.

I had been spending 90% of my time trying to find him. We all had. I knew his scent better than I knew my own- vanilla, lavender and spice... and the medicinal smell of his adderol. I still couldn't locate him. My chest had been burning for days now, and my brains felt like mush from the constant screaming in my mind FIND HIM, FIND STILES. I didn't know what I would do even if I did find him. He's still possessed.