Origins ➣ Stilinski [1]

9 | NINE

CHAPTER NINE
❝ wolfsbane ❞

"HEY, TRY NOT TO bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there." Stiles begged, glancing over at Derek.

            The gray-eyed werewolf had taken off his jacket, beginning to feel his body overheat, like fire purling through his veins. Aurora leant her head against the window, attempting to use the coolness of it to freeze out her headache. She had her hands at her temples, fingers pulling at her hair by the roots as she applied as much pressure to her temples as possible.

            Every muscle and fiber in her brain ached; the mental pain was so intense it could almost be mistaken as something physical. She kept trying to block her mind from Derek's, but no matter what she did, nothing seemed to severe the connection. And her mind was on fire due to the agony that rushed through Derek's veins.

            Derek turned to look at the teenage boy in confusion. "Almost where?"

            "Your house."

            "What? No. You can't take me there!" Derek protested.

            "I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles scoffed, letting out a breathless laugh.

            Derek rolled his eyes. "Not when I can't protect myself."

            Stiles snorted, finally fed up of Derek's short open-ended answers. Jerking the steering wheel, he pulled the Jeep along the side of the road, the vehicle coming to a harsh halt as he positioned his body to where it was facing Derek.

            "What happens when Scott finds the bullet?" Stiles practically shouted. "Are you dying?"

            "Not yet, but I have a last resort."

            "What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles yelled that time, his frustration getting the best of him. Stiles immediately looked away in disgust as Derek began to roll up his sleeve. "Oh, my God. What is that? Is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out?"

            "Start the car. Now."

            Stiles' eyes narrowed into a glare. "You know, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? And, in fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

            "Just start the car, Stiles." Aurora hissed through her teeth, not bothering to move from her position against the window. He looked back at her and he felt an unsettling ripple in his stomach before turning away and starting the engine.

○ ○ ○

Aurora could faintly make out the sound of Stiles on the phone. His voice was rushed and agitated—how it normally sounded when he spoke with Scott. The whole conversation was a swirl of slurred words, but a few managed to flitter into her ears clear as day. Take them to the animal clinic.

            Derek's voice rang out next—deep and raspy. And again, the words were lost on Aurora as her head felt like it was closing in around her brain.

            With every jostle of the jeep, she felt as if her eyes were rolling around in her skull. The next several miles went by at a snail's pace—the seconds seemed to feel like hours until they mercifully pulled into the animal clinic's parking lot.