18: If You Dare – Part 4

Even with the balancing, it took a whole other day for the mates – especially for Derek – to be able to leave Scott's old room and thank Melissa and Chris for all their help before Stiles sat behind the wheel of the Jeep to drive back home. It was a pleasant surprise that someone managed to clean all the blood off the seats and wheel. It was like magic! That thought made him smile to himself.

Thinking about his dad's worried face during his visit did put a damper on his mood, though. Lately he's been making him worry a lot, which always made him feel guilty. If not for Jordan and Beth to keep his dad occupied besides his work, Stiles would feel even worse about it. At this rate they were going to give his dad quite a few early gray hairs and permanent 'worry wrinkles' on his face. But it was their lives now and he doubted that it was ever going to change. Peace was only temporary in their world. Everyone knew that, but still, it didn't make Stiles feel less guilty. At least he could promise his dad that in a couple of days they were going for a visit so Derek can spend some much needed time with Beth while Stiles was going to get lost in the carefully stored boxes of his mother's stuff in the attic.

The Camaro was back at their building – courtesy of Parrish as well as the fresh food in their fridge. Stiles even made a comment about what a good decision it was to welcome him in their pack.

Neither of the mates were rested or healed by all means, but they were working on it. And they couldn't lay around idly either. One of the reasons they wanted to get back to the loft was to have access to Stiles' healing potions and the tools for the thorough research they were going have to do about Nemetons and darachs.

The first thing Derek did when they got back to the loft was to check on his car, making a face at the scent in it. It wasn't damaged but it reeked of Zepar who must have been driving around in it for a few hours to make it stink in there so much. The groceries in the back had, unfortunately, been destroyed since they couldn't know what all had been drugged and or spelled. That and the ice-cream Derek had bought had melted and ruined a lot of the vegetables, from which most had gone bad. Same with the meal Stiles had been cooking at the time Derek got skewered with the sword.The higher temperatures in California made it harder to keep anything good outside of the fridge.

He was going to have to bleach the car to get rid of the other alpha’s scent. With a sigh and trailing his hand over the car, he followed after Stiles who wasn't sure what he was doing, hovering. That's what he did now, he hovered, had been ever since Derek had opened his eyes yesterday. Didn't let the Hale shower alone, he trailed after him. And it was understandable, the younger man had been too close to losing his mate.

"It stinks of Zepar," Derek grumbled in explanation in the elevator on their way up to the loft. Their cat greeted them with loud meows, the only one who remained in the loft since the stupid chicken Derek had hatched by accident and their dog were both at Noah’s too, because they needed more care than their cat who loved the garden up on the roof too much to relocate.

Derek and the cat weren't the best of buddies but they tolerated one another, there was no hissing happening from either side. And Derek had even built the stupid cat his own scratching fort.

"Tomorrow we need to get to the vault and look for books we can use." Tomorrow, not today. Showering and sitting in the car and the walk up here had been pretty much exhausting for his mate and even Derek felt the exhaustion tugging at him. He remembered that from last time, and how food helped feel better, probably why there was a bowl of oranges on the kitchen table.

"We can see what we can find online today," he remarked as he got a bowl of canned meat for the cat, putting it on the 'cat' table where he could eat without the dog inhaling everything, if there had been a dog. "There, Little Red, no more complaining." The tabby cat attacked her food as if there hadn't been bowls of kibbles left for her the past days.

Despite feeling still tired, Stiles was glad to be back in their own place, which smelled like home. Each scent familiar by then. And he smiled because he sounded more like a wolf in his head than human in this regard. Courtesy of the mate bond.

Moving to the fridge to see some things restocked there too, he pulled out some ingredients from there and the pantry he insisted on being installed during the renovations. After all, he lived with two werewolves, a few fur babies and he was a food enthusiast too, so they had a little food storage there by then too.

"Yeah, I agree, we'll dig deeper online and searching the vault is a good idea too. I've never been there long enough to take a better look around," he nodded while packing everything on the counter (not dropping anything for a change) then smiled fondly at Derek caring for the supposedly 'only tolerated' cat who chose them to be their family (or caretakers?). Stiles knew that they had a soft spot for each other deep down, no matter how much Derek was capable of grumping about Little Red...

"Maybe we could also do the visit to my dad's place after the vault. I miss Beth too, you know," the human added while filling a pot with water to boil for the pasta he was going to make. "Oh, and Zepar's scent has to go. Maybe after disinfecting the interior – once I checked for any hidden runes or curses or whatnot – some time later we could make it smell like us again," he winked, his usual self starting to slowly make a comeback. "But for now... how does some spaghetti bolognese sound?"

"I know exactly what items there are in the vault but I haven't had a chance to look through all of the books yet." Stiles was going to have a field day with the objects there and Derek had gotten rid of the safe since it had been broken into and was wrecked, thanks to Kate and Malia. He had his own vault in another state but that was a little too far for now to get to.

As Stiles got ready to cook, searching for ingredients, Derek lingered, not wanting to sit down just yet. Maybe some of his mate's restless energy got transferred over to him or he didn't want to sit down since that meant he had to get up at some point too.

Stiles could offer to heat up baked beans and he'd be happy, as long as it was edible enough to fill their stomachs with. "It sounds good," the Hale agreed, taking the onion to start cleaning it, might as well help instead of doing nothing and watching the other. Retrieving the chopping board and a knife from the kid-proofed drawer, he glanced at Stiles who was busy measuring out the pasta.

"Once you've checked the car, I'll bleach it and we'll make sure to add our scents to it again soon. I'm sure he rubbed himself on the seats just because he could." Sure he was doing what he was told but it was clear Zepar enjoyed himself doing it. Like flirting with Stiles right under Derek's nose. He chopped the onion a little angrily, they both were livid with the alpha. Good thing they still had to boil the tomatoes and he wasn't chopping those or they'd have mashed tomatoes.

"There were five others at the Nemeton, I remembered that just now." Five, but he couldn't say if they were werewolves or druids or hired help.

Stiles paused after he put the pasta into the already boiling water and put a hand on Derek's bare forearm, squeezing lightly in an attempt to calm him. He was just as pissed at Zepar, but they had to keep their heads as cool as possible to be able to defeat him and the Council's attempts – whatever their reasons for those were.

"That's valuable information," he said to his man then after caressing his arm, he let it go to wash the tomatoes too for Derek to cut after he was done with the onions. "I sensed six presences – Including Zepar's – while they were hiding and observing us," he said as he put a pan on the stove to heat the oil for the chopped up onions and put some spices on the counter too. Despite everything that was going on and troubling them, he loved how they moved around in the kitchen in perfect sync. It was grounding for Stiles to do something as simple and normal as making dinner together. And they really needed something like that.

"Zepar was the only werewolf among them. The others were human. Druids from a lower level," he filled in the gaps for Derek without realizing that. "So he does work with the Council. I believe the one he called 'the Leader' wasn't there. I would've sensed a stronger presence with so much power around me. Before I got on top of the stump to save you, I didn't, their cloaking spell was working. But after that I think it stopped working," he said and took the chopped onions to pour it into the oil before giving the board back to Derek and start stirring the onions with a wooden spoon.

Stiles had already sensed how many there were so it wasn't that valuable, there wasn't much Derek could offer the other didn't know already and that was frustrating. He couldn't do anything but be stupid bait, and it wasn't that he wasn't used to it. Getting ripped open, impaled, dying… It was all so normal that the pain wasn't even the problem anymore. He'd heal, or not heal and need help and then heal; he was back on his feet as soon as possible only for it to start all over again. He was a liability, and it showed on Stiles, the strain of keeping him alive. Keeping him sane, dealing with his rut. Derek didn't know how to break through this cycle but he knew it had to be broken.

Cutting the tomatoes in parts after taking the skin off, he threw them in the blender to get them chopped up for the tomato sauce. He added a small can of pureed tomatoes to the pan along with the chopped tomatoes, all on automatic. Derek didn't have to think about what a good sauce needed, he had made it often enough with Stiles and without him. Stiles would add the herbs, Derek would insist adding some sugar and some coffee creamer to it because it made it softer and sweeter without the bitter bite, they'd bicker about how much garlic was needed and sometimes the Hale would add some extra vegetables for Beth to not be picky about them. How was it that they worked so well together and yet constantly were struggling to survive?

The pack was too small, that was the entire problem. He had one beta who wasn't even a werewolf, a mate, a cub and a human. They weren't ready for more even though they needed more, so it was a conundrum.

"They were chanting something before the sword happened. Zepar held me down and somebody else impaled me, I couldn't see their faces, it was blurry, I was spelled I think because I couldn't concentrate on them no matter how much I tried. I knew it was Zepar because of his scent and the hair."

Derek stepped aside so Stiles could do his thing with the herbs and the sauce. "I remember thinking how it sounded like your chanting."

"My chanting?" Stiles' eyebrows shot up high questioningly as his slender fingers added the herbs and glimpsed at Derek while stirring what was in the pan. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, needing Derek to clarify that. "Otherwise, I'll make sure Zepar has a gruesome death for hurting you. Again," he said on a suspiciously calm voice. Like someone who had already decided about it as a next life goal.

He looked back at the pan, stirring the sauce, the ground meat already in it too. "I keep circling back to that sword too. I didn't have the time to study it and maybe we should have taken it with us, but it was hard enough not to lose it from anger and worry. I mean... do you think there was something special about it? Or was it just a ritualistic sword or something?" he frowned then sighed. "It doesn't really matter anymore now, does it?" he shook his head and pointed to the pasta for Derek to stir that for him. It was starting to look good. It needed only a few more minutes.

"I don't know, I was spelled, my brain wasn't functioning all that well but that thought was clear. Like the chanting you did with our ritual, before when it was still needed." But like the faces, the words were impossible to focus on, they hadn't been English and chanting usually meant a ritual of some sort. Did it matter still? Probably not, whatever ritual they had done, it was all broken now by Stiles. Probably? It wouldn't be the safest to go back to the Nemeton to look for the sword, because chances were it wasn't there anymore. And they probably had no use for it anyways.

"So probably a ritualistic sword to a ritual to bleed you out," Stiles said only that to the chanting Derek mentioned. That didn't matter now either since it was done and in the past now. "How do you feel about getting some protective tattoos on you?" he suddenly asked from kinda out of the blue, but for Stiles it was something he's been thinking about. "I hate to admit it, but what I saw and felt on Zepar gave me an idea to protect you better and make you stronger. Seeing that asshole actively use that magic is a proof that it works and isn't just a theory from the emissary book."

Stirring the pasta as pointed to, Derek checked how well done it was and poured the water out, adding a little butter to it. The sauce was soon done too so he set the table for them, not feeling like taking a plate to the couch. Derek paused briefly, plate still in hand as he glanced to his mate. "Okay. How many were you thinking?" Obviously this was something he had figured out already.

Zepar's arms were covered in them, so probably a lot were needed and it was fine but for tattoos to show, it was going to need fire too. And Stiles never used a tattoo gun before in his life. So they might want to do this in a less obvious spot if possible, if Stiles was the one who had to add them to Derek's skin.

The Spark switched the stove off under the pan and stirred the sauce a few more times before pulling it to the side so he could turn around and look at his mate with his plate still in his hand. Aside from surprise he didn't feel anything against his idea in Derek. Which told Stiles that he was really on board with it.

"Good. There are like six runes that came into my mind. Four for the elements, one for magic and a sixth for protecting you against all of them. Plus I was thinking about a seventh for power and focus," he said, walking to the fridge to tear off a piece of paper from the pink 'groceries list' pad he had bought with Beth and picked up a pen to quickly draw them down in a downward line. He gave the piece of paper to Derek to get familiar with them then put the steaming pasta and sauce onto the table, getting an energy drink for himself and a bottle of water for Derek from the fridge. "The size or the placement where you might want to put them doesn't matter as long as it's on your body," he added then served the food for both of them.

"Soon I might need to get a tattoo or two too for more control and to have your pack's symbol too on me," Stiles hummed. "Obviously it's been on my mind for quite a while now, but things got too hectic lately."

It wasn't something Derek had to think about for very long. If Stiles thought runes were a good idea for the two of them to have more of a chance to stay safe, then the answer was always yes. The trust in the human was undeniable, so it didn't need more than a second to agree to it without even knowing how many or how big it was going to be. There was a big body to mark and only the spot between his shoulder blades was taken. Ever since he had been told by Stiles that he was a mage now, and ever since he had seen the runes on Stiles' body, he had known it was going to be part of them. There were already two on him in scars so those being tattooed on would only look even better.

Taking the little piece of paper, he looked at the simple marks on it, and he was impressed by Stiles knowing them all by heart already. His studies with Deaton were really starting to pay off. The Hale settled at the table, looking at the marks some more to get familiar with them before putting it aside.

"My pack symbol will look good on you." And that was an understatement, he loved the idea of his mate having the Hale triskele on him and he would have returned the favor but there was no Stilinski symbol to use. That he knew of.

"Of course it'll look good on me! I'm already a Hale too, you know," he winked at Derek then stuffed his mouth with some pasta, noisily sucking the sticking out ends, which of course made some sauce land around his mouth. "Hm, damn, we can cook!" he exclaimed more to himself and was already swirling his fork to catch the next round of his 'pasta victims' for himself.

The food smelled too good to ignore for longer so that's where he focused on, feeling starved since he woke up yesterday. Maybe Stiles' bottomless pit stomach was contagious. Using his spoon to roll the pasta onto his fork, he ate a few bites first with an approving hum.

"You're almost a Hale," Derek agreed since the human law didn't acknowledge their union as official, no, that came in a few months, date was all set and everything. They were going to hyphenate, since both didn't want to give up on their names and on paper Beth was a Hale so if Derek took Stiles' last name, that would have to be changed as well. Soon the human was a Hale, and clearly spaghetti wasn't going to be on the menu on their wedding day.

Before lifting the fork to his mouth, Stiles gave Derek a warm (and saucy) smile. "You say the most romantic things usually by accident. You know that, right?" he beamed at Derek, not taking his eyes off his mate and with that nearly missing his mouth but he quickly corrected the course of the fork to get the bite to its destination.

Not saying anything about all the red splatters, since many more were going to join those, Derek thought back on what he said that could be romantic and gave a clueless look, he had been truthful. If that was something that worked for his mate as romantic, well that was good because he was going to get a lot of truths.

"Well, technically I'm already a Hale because of the werewolf bonding thingy," Stiles blinked sheepishly at his mate then grinned "We just have to make it official with the wedding," he shrugged. It told Derek that Stiles was already considering himself as a Hale, part of the once prestigious clan, part of the family they were building for themselves.

The ‘werewolf bond thingy’. It was a little more than that but Derek couldn't help but share that grin with one of his own, his stomach doing this little flip. Stiles considered their mating enough to be a Hale, wasn't caught up on human laws and fully accepted the werewolf one, accepted the alpha as his partner in all ways possible. "We Hales are lucky to have you," he gushed, feeling ridiculous to be so incredibly head over heels for this man to the point where he might as well call himself Scott and send heart texts to Stiles to exclaim his love.

"I think I want them on my thigh, because they're not for others to see. Just you."

"I hope you're talking about the inside of your thigh," Stiles said around the food then chewed fast and swallowed. "I think that asshole has such extensive tattoos because he prefers it that way and it doesn't have anything to do with the size or style at all," Stiles shrugged. "Maybe most he had even before he was spelled. Either way, these simple runes will give you just as much protection – if not more – than his. After all, it'll be me and the magic we already share fused into these runes along with my intent. So... basically we're gonna get even more tied together in a way, I guess?" he said amused and ate more. "But it'll be worth it. You won't be invincible like Zepar isn't either, but it can give you a headstart in many situations and hiding it in such a private place can help keep the element of surprise."

"Yeah, inside of my thigh so when I'm naked, which, lets be honest, is often, they aren't that visible." Zepar wanted to flaunt what he had, that was his right but to Derek, whatever he put on his body was personal and was nobody's business.

"With how often I've died, I should count as invincible." Hales had a terrible track record in staying dead, or that was more a town's curse. "And if I die, you only have to put me on the Nemeton and bleed me dry so I'll be returned." Sure the Nemeton gave back at random but it was going to lose out on its favorite food without Derek so he had a feeling the tree would be very eager to make sure his death wasn't for long. Not that he wanted to test out the theory, nope. He was good, no more dying for a while if that was possible.

Stiles' smile quickly disappeared, though, when Derek brought up what he should do in case of the werewolf's death. The emissary stopped twirling his fork in the spaghetti. His first reaction would've been to raise his voice and demand Derek to stop with that nonsense. (Yeah, it was too soon yet to mention Derek dying.) But instead he took a deep breath and thought about it.

"Not that I'd want to try that out but... do you think that would work? I mean... obviously the Nemeton 'likes' us around and we are its protectors just as much as the town's. But... would that be possible?" Stiles wondered. As horrible as a dying Derek was for him, if they had this very last resort, it'd be an advantage.

He didn't realize that Stiles wasn't ready to talk about Derek dying again, that to bring it up was probably a little too blunt and too soon. Derek was too used to bluntness to understand that some things would get others emotional for reasons he hadn't thought of. Fortunately, Stiles was willing to entertain his thoughts, to even mull them over. It didn't influence Derek's appetite to talk about his own death; it was a thing that happened, often. Him injured wasn't even making people blink anymore.

"My blood empowers the Nemeton. I doubt it wants to lose me when it doesn't have a replacement." The how and why was something they didn't know. He didn't know what it meant, only that he was part of that tree as much as Stiles, Scott, Jordan and Allison were. "And we know for a fact that when I bleed out, somebody else returns." It was dangerous, he knew that much, dangerous because it wasn't only blood magic, it was messing with life and death.

"I guess you might be right about the Nemeton's 'intent' to keep you alive, but let's just not try this theory out, like ever, okay?" Stiles sighed and pushed his food around on the plate a bit. "I don't want to lose you or feel like I did when you nearly died on me... I was so scared," he mumbled and glimpsed back up at Derek. Not even the wolf's gushing could chase that feeling away, even if it was good to hear that his mate thought of him like that.

"The tattoos will help us to avoid that, though. We should do it tonight, if you're up to it. You have your tattoo gun here somewhere, right? It shouldn't take long then we can rest and heal some more," the the human suggested then forced himself to eat more, because he knew Derek would comment on it if he left half of the food there – again. He was burning through the calories too fast anyway and the last few days' strain still showed on him.

With that in mind, he quickly shoveled the remaining pasta into his mouth and washed it down with the rest of the energy drink. He even remembered to wipe his messy face with a napkin.

"I'm hoping to avoid that theory all together." Dying wasn't as glamorous as advertised and one of these times it wasn't going to be brief, it was going to be permanent. Derek would pull his own mate with him into death and he'd leave his daughter abandoned by both her parents so it wasn't like he treated this lightly. Derek didn't want to put Stiles through this again if he could avoid it. Only it wasn't always in his hands, sometimes he barely had the time to fight it. "I don't want to scare you like that." Sadly that happened way too often.

"I know you don't want to," Stiles nodded. "It's not entirely up to us, though. I'm sure I'll scare you in the future too in some ways," he shrugged. Because it wasn't just Derek who could get into life-threatening situations. Even if he had magic on his side and Stiles was pretty sure that it'd try to protect him even if he himself was unconscious.

Eyeing the plate to make sure Stiles would eat enough since he was already toying with the food, he made sure to keep on eating. They needed this and it was good food. "Tattoo gun's downstairs in the art studio." It had seemed the best place to put it since Beth had no access there to get curious hands on something that could hurt her. It had been cleaned and well-maintained despite not used often. Derek even had a real gun still, but that was in a safe, where Stiles' gun went too when he came home from work. As detective it was a requirement to keep the licensed gun in a safe spot.

With some amusement he watched Stiles force himself to eat the food by inhaling it all in one go, to get it done because he didn't feel like it but he needed it. He didn't have to ask if his mate wanted more, but they ate so they were good. "So do you want to do the tattoo now or later?"

"We can do it now. I just need to prepare the ink I'll have to use," the Spark explained and got up to put his plate into the sink before taking out Tupperware containers to put the spaghetti and sauce in them for later while Derek was finishing up with his own food. "How about we both gather what we'll need and meet up back here to set things up?" he asked.

It was better if they did it sooner than later since they couldn't know when the next attack might come. And damn, they had to come up with a plan to put an end to these tests too! It was going on Stiles' nerves and the situation was starting to wear them both down. Which was probably their goal too.

"Once we know more about darachs and Nemetons, I could try a tracking spell to find that fucker and together confront him before he could make his next move. I want his ass either out of this town or dead. Prestigious werewolf bloodline or not... He had hurt you twice. I won't give him the chance for a third time," he fisted his hands on top of the counter, making some electric currents rush along its surface and making the counter lamps flicker.

"I know." The wolf didn't want to think about it, about Stiles being in a hospital bed, if they were lucky. But it was as much a reality as Derek getting injured was and the only upside, thanks to their bonds, was that Stiles wasn't fully human anymore when it came to healing. He could borrow Derek's which only made it less likely he was going to get killed, not impossible. In their way of life, the younger man was going to get seriously harmed, it wasn't a matter of if, but when.

Taking his plate to the sink, Derek cleaned it enough to put it in the dishwasher, along with the rest of the dishes. It was tricky to let Stiles ink him with something he had never used before, there was no pig skin to practice on and though the runes were simple, it required some skill. Hopefully it would work enough to get the runes functioning since that was all that mattered.

"Stiles..." The electricity hit his arm but ran along it to find something else to bother, like the lamps. "We need a plan before we confront him. We lost the two times he found us." Derek didn't have the illusion they were going to have the element of surprise with anything they tried, they were watched all the time. He wasn't the biggest fan of plans, but if executed well, they could work in their favor.

"I agree that we have to be fast and not wait too long." Derek would fight. No matter what, he'd fight for as long as possible, but the last two times, he had fought for like three minutes? They weren't strong enough, which meant they had to be smart about it.

"Yes, I know... We'll come up with a plan," the Spark sighed, taking a deep breath to stop the flickering before the magic would pop the bulbs. To gain control, he turned into Derek's arms, anchoring himself with his mate and familiar. He nuzzled to the bigger man, arms wrapping around him as he rested his head on the warm chest.

In the past it was usually Stiles who came up with the plans that worked for the old pack to confront and win over the danger they had to face. It didn't change much during the years either. Even as a detective, he often came up with the raid plans, even if he wasn't the one to lead those operations. Now he had a mate who was much more than just supernatural muscle power and claws. Derek was a very intelligent partner and much better by now in strategy than when he first became alpha. Now they worked as a team and came up with things together.

"We can get stronger together, Derek," he said, sensing what his mate was thinking about. "We just have to stop fearing what we are capable of. If we combine our powers, I believe we can win this. Make a plan that's not over-complicated but swift. Which won't let Zepar know what hit him. No time for him and his goons to prepare and counter-attack. It has to have some surprise elements. Something they don't expect us to go with. Like us both utilizing what my fire can do," he thought out loud, letting some plans form in his head which he'll let brew before they have to pic an A and B plan. Maybe even a C, just to stay on the safe side of things. "It'll form, though."

"They're going to expect you to come at them, not me, so I'll be the element of surprise in this." Alphas were cocky, this one even more so. He’d expect Stiles since he was the stronger one of the two of them. And they had Jordan too but Derek wasn't too eager to draw him into this fight. Because it was the Druid Council, it was about Stiles and with that, the wolf too. Not their pack, not even Beacon Hills. It was all about the Nemeton and Stiles. Probably. This was why they had to research before a plan could form. They had to know what they were dealing with and how to use those plans against them. Stiles hadn't failed the last test, but was that enough to be considered done testing?

Fitting his arms around his mate, Derek took his time so Stiles could stop blowing out the light bulbs or even the electricity all together. They needed that for the tattoo machine. "I'm faster than he is, more agile." His strength was no match, his speed was going to be the thing to help them. Derek knew how to fight, and if Stiles' magic could give him the strength they needed, then yeah, they could chase off Zepar or at least make him talk. He was only the lackey in this, they had to get to the leader who hadn't shown themselves yet.

"Let's focus on research first. We'll have the upper hand if we know what they know." Leaning closer, he kissed Stiles. "I'll go get the tattoo gun, the sooner you have me inked, the sooner we can delve into our laptops."

"Right," Stiles nodded and stole another kiss which tasted of tomatoes from the food they just ate, but he didn't mind. He felt a bit more grounded and collected, even the lights stopped flickering so that was progress in his eyes. "Otherwise I agree. We'll build our strategy on you. I don't think they'll expect you to be in the forefront again, especially after me going nearly berserk on them and calling them out in a challenge," he said a bit sheepishly at the end, because yeah, he did that and Derek more likely than not had no idea about it.

"You called an alpha out in challenge..." Derek's voice betrayed his disbelief. He shouldn't even be surprised about that, because this was Stiles, nothing was impossible with him. But this was a new level of not smart things to do. "Now he won't be going anywhere until the challenge has taken place." It could also work in their favor. Technically an alpha would be the challenger, however Zepar was going to expect Stiles now for sure and not Derek. So all they had to do was come up with a way for Stiles' magic to flow through him and they would have the element of surprise. Right. Not easy at all, however Derek wasn't going to avoid a difficult challenge, they'd make it work or go down trying.

"Hey! I was pissed and on the brink of tapping into the Nemeton's powers and possibly the telluric currents..." Stiles held up a hand in defense. "And it's not as if Zepar formally accepted my challenge since he stayed hidden and silent in the woods," he added with a shrug. "Besides, he's challenged us first. We'll just give him what he wanted," Stiles mused with a dark little smile in the corner of his lips. Yes, he can be cruel too if triggered. And lately he was triggered hard and multiply times. Up to the point that he wasn't going to refrain from killing if necessary. He was way past shying away from taking a life in order to protect their and others or even the town in the process. After all, he and Derek were the guardians of the Nemeton, Beacon Hills and its residents.

In the end, he moved upstairs to the greenhouse and collected everything he might need on a tray, checking up on the ritual he had read about magical tattooing on wolves and druids just to make sure he was all familiar with the steps. Then he walked down the spiral staircase and met Derek back in the kitchen.

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