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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No thanks to Jackson's stuttering and incapability to muster up an excusable lie of Scott's whereabouts, Chris Argent took it upon himself to toss the kid's inside a vacant hospital room. The place was dark enough to hide their aggressive investigation. Chris was continually letting his eyes slip to Aspen, not the least bit surprised that she was associated with Scott, and from his demeanor, it seemed he knew everything already. Including Aspen's powers since he demanded one of his men to apply pressure on a specific area on her wrist to enable her from using her abilities. Aspen tried activating them, but it seemed like the hunter specialized in more than just werewolves.
While Aspen and Jackson were being restrained, Chris was pinning Stiles against the door. "Let me ask you a question, Stiles," he said to the boy, his voice raised to get his point across, "Have you ever seen a rabid dog?"
"No," Stiles breathed shakily, but his sarcastic tone would never abandon him, "But I could put it on my to-do list if you just let me go."
Chris overlooked Stiles' comment, his voice now at a deadly low tone that sent shivers up Aspen's smile. "Well, I have, and the only thing I've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you wanna know what happened?"
Stiles tried shrugging through the tight grip, tilting his head slightly. "Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills."
Aspen slightly hung her head, not expecting anything less from Stiles. She looked at Jackson, who was shaking so much, she was surprised he hadn't pissed himself from the horrified look on his face.
"He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet..." Chris harshly pressed his finger into Stiles' forehead, "...in his head. The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?"
Stiles was struggling to swallow as if trying to keep down the spiked punch from the formal. "No. And it sounds like you need to be a little more select--"
Chriss slammed his hand against the door near Stiles' head, making the boy flinch from the sudden sound. Aspen fiercely yanked against the hold the man had on her wrist while Jackson peeked toward her, noticing her eyes flashing from brown to white.
"Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon?" Chriss shouted, his eyes boring into Stiles. "Did you have to lock him up?"
"Yeah, I did!" Stiles seethed, his face inching closer to Chris. "I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?"
Chris scoffed inching away from the boy, holding up a warning finger up to his face to watch his next words. He looked frustrated like Stiles had hit a nerve as if this wasn't the first time someone had accused his family of the Hale fire. "I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that."
