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Alpha Hale’s house is huge. It has imposing pillars around the whole thing and is too dark for such a light town. Odd hedges grow around it yet it still looks rustic and cabin-like along with regal. She leads Stiles into the house through the front door and while Laura and Cora peel off to put Derek on a cot, Talia takes Stiles to a study. Scott follows.
Having Scott there makes him feel more comfortable, but also makes the entire thing more awkward. Stiles can tell that the alphas don’t spend much time in each other’s personal territories, and it makes them uneasy.
“I don’t want to continue until you give me answers.” Stiles crosses his arms, voice still wavering and scratchy from his screams.
Talia, regal as always, turns and looks at him delicately. “I promise everything will make sense, Stiles. But you must trust us for now. Battle plans are first.”
Stiles grunts in frustration, but realizes that the Alpha is not going to budge.
“Good. Now as a sign of goodwill, I will allow you to bring in the dragons you feel are necessary for the planning. However many you’d like.”
Stiles doesn’t even think. “Only three. Chris, Allison, and the one they call Sheriff.” Talia nods and whispers to a beta that’s standing by the open study door. The beta nods and hurries off.
“Since that is all taken care of, let’s look at a few things and get others set straight.” Talia walks behind the huge cherry desk and sits at a chair behind it. She motions for Stiles and Scott to sit as well, but both refuse. “First off, tell me about these Leaders.”
Stiles does. He explains how they’ve taken over since before he was born, around the time his grandparents were his age, and they controlled new dragon babies by taking their true names. He tells her about their awful claws, and how Lydia leaves their Leader House with scars on the back of her neck and a face white as ash. He carefully describes the arranged marriages and breeding between families and even…even the experiments.
“Whenever they feel they’ve found a new breakthrough, the Leaders try their experiments to test the hypotheses. One time, they took Lydia’s grandmother and drilled a hole in her head to see if her dragon type really had the foretold ‘third eye’ that could see things beyond our world.” Stiles shudders. “They found nothing but her brain.”
Talia keeps her face carefully composed, but her eyes are fierce and on fire. Stiles can tell that she’s absolutely livid. “Anything else?”
He pauses. “Not that I can think of. You obviously know that they use us as unwilling soldiers for their cause. They always talk about their endgame and how they’re going to achieve it.”
“What is their endgame?” Scott interjects for the first time.
“They want to control this island and become emperors of a land of dragons,” Chris Argent says as he walks through the door, begin pushed by a beta. “We will be their slaves, and them our masters. We will make them an unstoppable army.” His mouth is in a grim line, eyes emotionless as always. Stiles’s father always told him that it makes Chris even more dangerous, but more of a leader as well.
“Watch it!” Stiles can hear Allison snarling at a rough beta, and when she finally turns to see him, her smile widens. “Stiles!” She says, then launches herself into his arms. “You would not believe how happy I was when I saw you in that arena,” she says softly into his ear, gripping onto him tightly. “You’re alive.”
“Of course I am. I’m probably the hardest damn dragon to kill,” he says soothingly, smiling into her hair. She pulls away way too soon, in his opinion, but he quickly sees why. “Dad.” He says, voice choked.
“Stiles,” his dad’s eyes well with unshed tears. The two embrace, their bond as the last remaining family of each other becoming complete once more. That’s all they say, but once they pull away from each other, they know that it’s really all they have to say.
Chris clears his throat. “So what’s the next step?”
Talia’s piercing eyes penetrate everyone in the room before she nods at one of her betas. “Close the door,” she says. Then she turns to the map she has spread across the table. “This is the layout of the entire island,” she says, smoothing her hand over the crackling paper. “Here is our land,” she traces her finger over the majority of it, all coated in a faint shade of blue, “and this is the uncharted territory, also known as Dragon territory.” She traces a shaded black part. Then she looks up at them. “I have about 125 betas that will be able enough to fight, plus 20 omegas who are in this pack’s debt and one other alpha, Scott. Scott, of course, won’t be leading a regiment, but I have my brother and a few more war generals to lead our betas. 100 of all those I’ve said can achieve a full shift. Scott will stay behind and plan battle attacks. He can also lead our spy group of fifteen highly trained omegas. They’ll make sure everything is running smoothly on the battlefield.
“Now I understand that your men cannot fight,” Talia looks pointedly at Chris. “We will compensate. But we need to know all of your species’ weaknesses so we will not lose.”
Chris immediately stiffens. “I don’t believe that that is the best course of action.”
Talia heightens herself to match. “And I assure you that it is. I cannot lose my entire pack and your people need our help. The only way we can all win is if you tell me your people’s weaknesses.”
“And lose countless dragons to your vicious dogs? I think not!”
“Don’t you dare—!” Talia begins, but is cut off by a sharp
“Stop!” The two turn from their intense stare-off to see Cora standing in the doorway. “Just, please stop. Hear me out, I think I know the best way to work this out.” Her hands are held out to each leader, fingers splayed to keep them back. Her dark eyes flicker up between their faces. “During training, it seemed like Derek was some kind of magical dragon chainer. We thought there was something wrong in the air, that somehow Derek was cheating.” She barks a laugh. “I mean, he kind of was, but that’s not the point. The point is is that Derek found a way to subdue these dragons without killing them. Spending time with Stiles did that.” She spares a small side glance to the dragon boy, but turns away quickly.
Talia sighs, her face scrunching like she has a gigantic migraine. “Fine.” She turns towards a door that has been behind her and her desk the entire time. “Laura?” She calls, and a not-so-miniature version of Talia comes striding through the doorway. “Go to Derek. Wake him in five minutes exactly; he’s had enough time.”
Laura nods and turns to Stiles. “Come with me.” Stiles glances quickly at all the dragons in the room, and Cora is avoiding his eyes. He swallows and follows the threateningly tall alpha-to-be, his mind choosing this moment to remember all the stories Derek had told him about her killer sucker-punch and ability to pin down anything that moves, not to mention her affinity for ripping dragon wings during attacks. He shudders at the thought.
The further down the hall they go, the more his missing limb aches. The spring is already rusted and creaky, and it squeals with unhinged protest each time he sets his foot down. He wants to make it stop just because he fears that Laura is annoyed by it. He knows that it’s the only thing he can hear as they get one step, two steps closer to Derek each time.
Finally Laura stops in front of an open doorway and glances at Stiles for a millisecond before striding in. He figures that he’s supposed to follow, and he does. When he steps into the room, he can already feel the power that resides inside of it. There’s a single huge window that lets the falling midday sun filter in, and the room is humble and bare. When Stiles sets his eyes on the figure lying on the bed, he can feel the blood draining quickly from his face.
Laura turns to him sharply. “Your heartbeat quickened.” She states, stepping closer. Stiles just swallows hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don’t pass out on me.” Her voice is sharp too, cutting.
He clears his throat and shakes his head again, more discernible this time. “I won’t.” He walks around her, closer to the bed. Derek is lying there, face white and calm. His dark hair and eyebrows are a cutting contrast to his skin, stubble poking out of his face. His eyelashes are resting lightly on his face, lips slightly open to reveal the tips of front teeth. He looks beautiful. Stiles gasps for a breath and reaches a hand out to Derek’s face. A hand roughly grabs him and yanks him back moments before he can reach Derek.
“Don’t touch him!” Laura shrieks, and Stiles finds himself on the ground, looking up at a distressed Laura. Her chest is heaving and there are small tears shining in her eyes. She yanks him up again and doesn’t let go of his hand. “Sorry I’m sorry,” she says gently. “But you can’t touch him yet.”
“And why not?” Stiles asks angrily, bitter from her touch. He tries to pull away, but she holds tight. He gives out a frustrated huff. “Why is he like this? Is he alive?”
She doesn’t move her eyes from her brother. “Barely alive.” She squeezes his hand lightly. “But changing.” She spares a fleeting glance at Stiles. “It’s a good change,” she assures. “It happens to every wolf once they find their mate.”
“I…what? I don’t understand.”
Laura sighs and keeps her eyes trained on Derek. “When a wolf finds and bonds to their mate, it’s like a light turns on inside of them.” Her voice is oddly breathy, and her eyes are far away. “All other wolves in their pack can sense it. That’s when we know it’s time, and that’s when we know that they must…prove their worth.” She purses her lips. “Their bodies and minds must survive the ultimate test of being…ripped apart by their pack.” She blinks hard. “We’ve all gone through it. The alpha…the alpha has to just stand and watch. My mom says it doesn’t get easier, and it’s still hard to watch the betas…” She gestures with her other hand to her brother, trailing the thought off into space.
“What happens to them? And uh, why can’t I touch him?”
“They wake up,” she says, “and they’re changed.” She closes her eyes. “The wolf will wake up from a touch of his mate. If the mate touches them too soon, they may not survive the change.” She quickly crosses an arm over her stomach and looks away from him. “It’s been five minutes. You can touch him now.” Laura squeezes his hand, and this time she lets go.
Stiles glances at her curiously. “Does this mean that I’m…his mate?” He asks, whispering near the end.
“Just touch him.” Laura says. Stiles doesn’t even have the wit at the moment to make fun of the “touch him” opportunity. He just turns to Derek—his Derek—who’s lying still on the bed, head propped neatly on the pillow. Stiles knows that this is the perfect opportunity to have a fairytale kissing moment, but knows that if he were in Derek’s place he’d find it creepy over romantic. He reaches out a shaking hand and presses it gently to Derek’s jawbone. It’s rough and scratchy like usual, but void of the normal fantasies attached to the feeling. Stiles leans closer.
Derek’s eyes open.
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Derek feels like he’s on fire. Cool wind brushes his entire skin, but he’s a radiating heater in the dark night. He looks to his left and blinks his eyes once, signaling to the glowing eyes beside him. The red eyes blink back once and Derek turns forward.
He howls into the night and shifts for the first time.
There is a gorgeous freedom in being totally animal. In feeling wind through fur and dirt on paws. The glowing eyes beside him are a constant reminder of the pounding pack of betas behind him, and if he strains enough he can hear a platoon far to his right, another far to his left. The one on his right has Stiles and the other dragons, but is also the most unsafe. They can still be influenced by the Leaders, and they will fly off to a safe location once actual battle begins. Their main job is to take as many dragons away before they can receive orders and be influenced by the Leaders.
Derek and Scott’s pack are in charge of taking out dragons peacefully with sugar, sweet spot scratching, and eels. It sounds stupid and insane, but Derek knows that even the smallest thing can make the biggest change. Take himself and Stiles, for example. The two “star crossed lovers” of the island.
“We’re here,” Scott says through his fangs, as he still hadn’t found his mate yet.
Derek nods his huge black head at the alpha, then howls again. It’s time.
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Whatever Cora thought was supposed to happen definitely didn’t. The Leaders’s kingdom is not large, nor amazing, nor imposing, as the elder werewolves in town had said it was going to be. Their castle is merely a rock building with slabs of flint as walls and velvet curtains as doorways. It’s darker and creepier than anything she could have imagined up herself, dragon skulls decorating the interior like trophies. She can smell wolf, the scent is overwhelming.
“Mom?” She whispers, and Talia turns around from in front of her daughter and holds a finger to her lips. Cora watches as Laura shifts to a wolf form, silent and slow, bones barely cracking from the effort. There’s no doubt in Cora’s mind that the other alphas heard it. Their senses are heightened more than her own, but their power should be equal her mother’s. Unfortunately, there’s only one of her. She wonders where the three assholes are hiding.
As if on cue, a figure steps out of the shadows.
“I’m glad you’ve finally decided to show up, Talia.”
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“Which Leader are you?” Derek hears Scott asks as the unfamiliar wolf in front of them flashes his red eyes at the group.
“They call me Ennis,” he growls, and Derek finds himself inadvertently sighing in relief. This isn’t Deucalion, the scary blind Alpha that seems to be the leader of the Leaders. The sky above them lets out an angry rumbling, showing its anger for the battle. A dead dragon lays a few yards from them–a sad casualty. A few wolves have gone down, but not many. Derek rumbles with the anger of the sky, but he knows that this is mostly Scott’s battle.
Ennis takes the first swipe, and Scott sidesteps it before going in for a low attack. Ennis sees it and counters with a hard knock to the side of Scott’s head, which sends him flying. He knocks his back on a tree trunk, and there’s a sharp snap. Complete pain fills his face as he healing process begins in sped-up motion, copious amounts of adrenaline aiding the process. Derek uses this as his moment to take over, and a few betas behind him also see the opportunity.
The second they pounce, the sky opens up and a downpour of water thunders down upon them. Derek is aided by three other wolves, and the three of them tear at a different part of Ennis, taking turns swiping at his face with their claws. He cannot attempt the full shift even if he had the ability, and the four of them take advantage of that. He’s strong, though, and he’s definitely been an alpha for a long time. However, when Scott takes over again, Ennis stands no chance. He’s already wounded from the other wolves, and he doesn’t have a pack of betas to add to his alpha power: Scott does.
A final blow cannot be up to Scott, and once Ennis is on the ground an older wolf steps up to crush the Leader’s head.
Derek winces at the sound, but it’s worth it to hear all of their victorious howls rising up above the storm.
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Peter and his band of misfits (as he’d so fondly dubbed them at the beginning of the mission) trek forward in half-shifted beta form, eyes peeled for any and all misplaced surroundings. Their little platoon was put in charge of the outskirts of town and making sure they alert as many dragons as possible to get out before another command was given. Peter can hear the twins bickering again (teenagers are the worst) and he audibly sighs. A small chuckle sounds off to his left, and immediately he’s throwing his hand out towards the pups and adults and standing erect, ears alert.
The group watches as a barefooted alpha werewolf woman steps from between two stone houses, and Peter growls at himself for not noticing her scent. She spent so much time around dragons, it’s hard to discern her scent from theirs. As she steps further into the moonlight, Peter is surprised to recognize her. “Kali?” He asks, and she smiles menacingly.
“Hello, Peter.” Her voice is a low purr, contrasting her wolfish features. “It’s wonderful to see you again darling.”
He bares his teeth at her and begins to circle, and she does the same. It’s clear that this fight is only between the two of them. “I always hated when you called me that. We never could agree on much, especially pet names.” He thinks back to their arranged engagement.
Her grin turns nasty. “You might have hated darling, but I hated whore.”
He smiles innocently. “You thought that was a pet name, dear? I was just restating what you were!”
She shrieks and pounces on him, anger fueling her sloppy moves. Her claws are still sharp—sharper than anyone’s Peter has ever seen—but her slashes are misdirected and she screams as her fist connects with a stone building wall. Peter smirks playfully at her, but it quickly disappears as she digs a few large scratches into his neck.
Blood splatters all over, some even hitting the pups, but Peter is at it again with a new rage. He kicks Kali’s feet from under her and hurls her into a building, causing a thin crack to begin right in the middle of the wall. He hurries over to her dazed form on the ground. “Oops,” he says, and then slashes her throat deep enough to stop her breath.
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The man’s grin is unsettling, as are his sunglasses. He’s obviously blind, but something tells Cora that he can see them all just fine.
“I’m at a disadvantage,” Talia says, charted. “You know my name, but I do not know yours.” Cora hides a grin. Of course her mother knows this wolf’s name—she’s done extensive questioning on every single alpha and dragon from the information Chris and Sheriff could give her—but she has to flash her authority at every opportune moment available.
“I am Deucalion, Leader of this society.” Everyone can hear the capital L. Cora flinches as his head turns to her.
Talia’s ears perk up, and she grins menacingly at the alpha. “Do you dare fight me, Leader?” She asks. “You know I am much stronger than you. I hold the power of a hundred wolves, all that heed my every command and live in harmony. I rule with a strength stronger than power, for I rule with love and peace. Deucalion, blind alpha, you are weaker than me. We are not adversaries, for you have no chance. Your knowledge and wit may outsmart mine, but I have freedom on my side, and you have nothing left.
“Your fellow alphas have fallen to my children. Your wolves are no longer, and your dragons cannot hear your call. Surrender all the names you hold in your mind and we will let you live.”
“And live where?” Deucalion asks, his expression easy. “Live out my days in my broken castle?” He gestures around himself. “Live in your dungeons as a prisoner?” He laughs, no fear present. “No, I believe the only way out is for you to kill me.”
“Then so be it.” Talia lets herself change, and Deucalion goes into his beta form. There’s no question in Cora’s mind that her mother was right: he does have the upper hand, for he has a sight that no one else does. Cora’s about to close her eyes when a voice comes sounding out behind Deucalion’s hunched form.
“I believe that honor goes to me.”
Chris Argent brings down a chained sword on the stem part of Deucalion’s neck, and his head hangs limply from where it’s cut off.
The room is completely silent as the wolves and dragons alike take in the scene, reality taking a new turn. And slowly, ever-so-slowly, Cora lifts her head in a victorious howl and listened as harmonious sounds join her.
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Epilogue
“I swear to the gods, Stiles, if this whole damn castle gets covered with flowers I’m going to throw you off the top of it,” Derek growls, reaching for the dragon boy.
Stiles laughs merrily and jumps out of the way. “You know I can’t help it! I’m just so happy and full of magic!” He twirls down the hallway. “Anyway, I’d just fall gently on a bed of tulips.” He smiles cheekily at Derek and skips further, Derek hurrying to keep up. “You know, we’re going to be late to my best friend’s wedding. I’m the best man!”
Derek rolls his eyes. “I know you’ve explained this to me enough, but I think I’m technically the best man. You’re the Maid of Honor.”
Stiles gasps. “Are you questioning my manhood?”
Derek sighs, looking at the ceiling in hopes Lupa might send some lightning to strike him dead. “No Stiles, I was just—”
“Because I have a huge ego, Mr. Sourwolf. If you so much as poke it with a stick—”
“You mean if I so much as stroke it with a feather, you’ll get an inflated head? I already knew that.” Derek jokes, anticipating the blow that Stiles makes to his head.
“Asshole,” the dragon boy grumbles, crossing his arms.
“Stiles!” A high voice echoes down the hallway corridor and immediately the boy stiffens.
“Shit,” he says—
“The ceremony is starting in thrifty seconds! You and your ,am better get your assess I’m line! I’m not supposed to be the only maid of honor out there!”
“I’m not the maid of honor,” Stiles grumbles, but takes his place right next to Derek in line, in front of Lydia and Jackson.
He totally is.
They each walk down the aisle in pairs, a gorgeous tune playing on the organ. This is the first wedding he’s been apart of, and Derek has to admit that he kind of likes it. Since Allison and Scott had gotten officially mated a few months ago, they decided to appeal to the dragon side of the couple and have a wedding ceremony. Everyone’s seemingly enjoying it, and it will be followed by a wedding reception of dancing and food. So far it’s turned out pretty good.
Stiles and Derek stand in opposite sides of the altar, Derek stoic and still while Stiles fiddles with his own tie for a few minutes. The music changes and everyone turns to watch Scott run down the aisle, out of breath. “Oops,” he breathes to Derek, indicating his embarrassment. Derek just smiles and shakes his head, and they all watch as Allison begins her trek down the aisle. She has a dress tailored to fit around her pregnant belly and her smile is brighter than usual, which mean that it’s hard to look at.
Stiles leans over behind Scott and whispers in Derek’s ear. “Do you think they’ll have werewolf or dragon babies?”
Derek shrugs, bringing a finger to his lips. Now is not the time.
“Personally, I think they’ll have werewolf dragons,” he rambles, and Derek actually pushes him back into place in the bridesmaid line.
Stiles pouts, and as Sheriff begins to say the vows the werewolf boy smirks at the sullen dragon boy. “Today, we father to celebrate the joining of two souls in their beginning to happily ever after,” he begins grandly.
Maybe one day this will be their happy ending too, Derek thinks.
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