Aspen Juniper Veata has only ever known Beacon Hills to be a quiet and dainty town. Herself, along with her best friends Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, had gone unnoticed by their peers in high school for as long as they could remember. Aspen ha...
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The scene was horrifying, fear striking. Aspen's mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the image that was presented before her eyes. She didn't think twice as she ran closer toward Lydia, her eyes flashing white before swiping her right arm upward to whip a strip of solidified air toward Peter. The werewolf was thrown back and landed on his back some feet away from them. Stiles slid to the ground in front of Lydia, panting heavily as he ghosted his fingers over her face, blood splattered all over her body. Aspen kneeled next to the girl and gently moved the material where Peter had bitten but flinched away, seeing the large teeth marks that have penetrated her skin. The two fell back once Peter came hurtling toward them on all fours and hovered over Lydia like a beast claiming its prey.
"Aspen dear, that is no way to treat your godfather," he cackled, blood dripping down his chin.
Stiles shook his head in a frenzy as if he hadn't heard correctly. "Godfather!?" Peter began to growl down at Lydia, and Stiles quickly dropped the mention of Aspen being Peter's goddaughter. "D-don't kill her," he begged. "Please."
Peter hummed, appearing as if he was thinking about his suggestion, letting his sharp nails dance in front of him. "Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek."
"W-what?"
The werewolf let his gaze slip down to Lydia and grazed his nails over the side of her face. "Tell me...how to find...Derek Hale."
"We don't know that," Aspen whimpered, wanting so badly to reach for Lydia's limp hand. "How would we know that!"
"Because Stiles is the clever one," Peter stated matter factly, "Aren't you? And because deception has a particularly acrid scent Stiles. Tell me the truth...or I will rip her apart."
Aspen's fist was gripping the grass beneath her as her jaw ground her teeth together. Stiles was panting as he stared down at Lydia, hating that the love of his life was lying unconscious, losing more blood by the second. "Look...look, I don't know, okay? I sw--swear I have no idea."
Peter stared at him for a moment in silence before he let out a thunderous roar, "Tell me!"
Aspen and Stiles flinched away until his demand ceased to the quietness filled by nearby owls in the woods. "Okay, okay, okay, look. I--" Stiles breathing was heavy while Aspen glued her eyes to the boy, wondering if he would really help the murdering werewolf. "I think he knew..."
