The Fox and The Wolf - Book Two {Sterek}

Chapter 11: My 'alpha'

"I understand Stiles. Just... be careful, alright?" My Dad said gravely, placing a hand on my shoulder. He looked at me for a moment, probably to make sure I was taking him seriously, and then pulled me into a hug.

"I will dad, I promise. But we've got to save Derek... if we don't I-," he cut me off when he heard the tears threatening in my voice.

"You will Stiles. If anyone can save Derek, it's you. You are the smartest, most stubborn teenager I've ever met." His hands were gripping my shoulders tightly, willing me to believe his words.

I looked into the icy blue eyes of my father, and remembered again how lucky I am. While tragedy had struck us hard with the loss of mom, we still had each other. And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way. I swallowed the tears back down.

"I love you dad," I said hoarsely.

"I love you too, Stiles." He said with one of his little smiles. "Go get some sleep, you've got a long drive ahead."

I nodded and headed up the stairs, dragging my feet along the way. Don't get me wrong, I'm completely psyched about finally having a way we could save Derek- I am! I feel it in the depths of my soul. The hope. But with everything that's happening, even my bones are tired. My mind feels over worked and my emotions are all over the place.

On the one hand- Derek's turning human and there's pretty much nothing we can do to stop it. Tampering with the spell could only make it worse. His eyes have changed colour and his sense of smell is almost gone. Lydia has predicted that he will die. That he will turn human and he will die. She's never been wrong. And if that happened- I shuddered to think about the state I would be in. What happens when you lose your true mate? I had a feeling it would destroy me. And not in a dramatic-teenager-in-love way, but an unable-to-breathe-without-him way.

On the other hand- finding Kate could solve it all. Maybe if we can keep him from turning human, we can keep him from dying. Werewolves are harder to kill. So maybe a simple bullet wound wouldn't do the trick if he's still himself. His real self. A born werewolf from one of the strongest werewolf families in history. At least that's what all of the history books Deaton had leant me said, and I believed it. What I've heard about Talia Hale, she sounded absolutely incredible. Derek was more like her than he gave himself credit for.

I didn't like the idea of splitting our pack up any more than Derek did, but Scott and I were in agreement. This was the only way to tackle both problems. And our alpha was right, I could feel it. As the pack mom, I have nearly as much power and authority as Scott does. We would still have access to each other's collective strength, even thousands of miles away. The pack would be safe, all of us. We would make this work, like we always do.

I wanted to flop down onto my bed as soon as I made it upstairs, but a shower would probably be best. Then maybe I could get a little extra sleep in the morning. Weird how our teenage brains think that'll make a difference. I grabbed a towel and a clean pair of boxers, heading for the bathroom. I could practically hear my soft haven of a pillow calling my name, beckoning me back to my room, but I resisted.

Halfway through rinsing my body down in the gloriously warm water, I felt Derek in my room. A spike of excitement shot through me and I rushed through the rest of my routine. I turned the water off and nearly fell in my haste to get out of the shower and towel off. I pulled my clean boxers onto my damp skin and burst out of the steam filled bathroom, bee-lining for my bedroom.

"Night Dad!" I called down the stairs as I ran to my room.

"Night Stiles!" He yelled back.

I opened my bedroom door briskly, the anticipation of seeing his face curling around my internal organs. I spotted him laying across my bed, stripped down to his boxers. In the low light of the room I admired the Adonis-like body sprawled on my bed. Smooth, tan skin outlining the hard, perfect muscles beneath. Raven hair slightly mussed where it lay against my favourite pillow, contrasting profoundly with the white fabric. His green eyes hidden beneath his exquisitely dark brows were watching me, and he drew his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes moved up and down my body.