The Blood Claim Part One: The Alpha's Right

Chapter Two: Alpha Hale

Chapter Two: Alpha Hale

The Stillinski House

I deliberately slammed the door in my twin brother's face and kicked off my Vans before taking the stairs two at a time. It took that idiot a moment, but he finally got the door unlocked and got inside.

"Stella! How many times do I have to say 'I'm sorry'? You know I am!"

I whipped straight around and bounded back down the stairs. I got into Stiles' face and forced him backwards until he was against the front door. As menacingly as I could, I replied,

"Until your voice box crackles with dried blood and constant use!"

I refused to acknowledge the hurt expression on his face as Dad came thumping down the stairs. I could tell he still had his work boot on just by how heavy his feet sounded. My annoyance flared and I spun on him.

"How many damn times do I have to tell you to take those nasty ass boots off at the door?" I shoved past him as he gaped at me and headed back upstairs. I most certainly didn't have time for his idiocy, too. Handling Stiles' was bad enough!

"Excuse me?" Dad gaped at me. "And just where in the hell have you two been? It's a school night!" I could tell he was glaring, but ignored him all the same.

In his defense, it was well after one in the morning, but it wasn't as if either of us was stupid enough to actually answer the rhetorical question. I glanced over my shoulder and shook my head at them, tears blurring my vision as I rushed into the god-given sanctuary that was my bedroom and slammed the door. Stiles was right behind me, however, and I turned the lock on the door so that he couldn't come in. I almost laughed when he ran into it, and the knob jiggled.

"Stella! Stella, come on, open the door!" he begged, pounding repeatedly. The noise was intensifying the headache I always got whenever I cried, and the fact that my scars hadn't stopped aching? I was not the she-wolf to trifle with.

"Come on, I'm sorry! Stella, I had no idea―"

"Just go away, Stiles!"

"Honey, come on out," said our father in that fir no-nonsense tone. But what could he do, short of breaking down my door?

"Just go away! You've done enough, Stiles! You're the most infuriatingly embarrassing twin brother ever!" I screamed at the door; I gave them a sob and threw my pillow at the door to give them the hint, knowing they would eventually crack right and just leave me alone.

Both of them sighed- one with disappointment and one with regret. I knew it was their last attempt, but I refused to say anything else. I felt like a bitch, being awful to Stiles― I was painfully aware of how hard his throat was working, and how heavy the sigh he had given was. I hated it when we fought: but my twin brother seriously needed to learn when to keep his damn mouth shut. Sometimes my brother just did not get the message.

"I really am sorry, Stells," Stiles whispered through the door before he and Dad moved off, Dad slowly to his study and Stiles shuffling to his own room across the landing from mine.

Sobbing quietly, I moved away from my door and to my bed. I know it was nasty and unsanitary- especially due to my slight romp with Derek -but I did not have the energy to go hunting for my pajamas, so I did what any other typical white teenager in a movie would do and flopped onto the bed in my smelly clothes. I buried my face into my pillow just as it started to thunder outside and frowned, annoyed because usually I could smell rain days away before it even gets here, but I hadn't smelled any rain at all for weeks. Sniffling, I got up to turn off my lamp when it went out on its own, along with the rest of the power. As my room was washed in darkness, dappled patches of pale blue moonlight shined into my room from the uncovered window. I suddenly had the urge to feel the light on my bare skin, so I pushed myself away from my bed and began to strip myself of my clothes, brushed the rest of the leaves out of my river of brown hair. When I was in nothing but my underwear, I kicked my clothes across the room and into the hamper before wandering over to my closed window. The pale light was cool on my too-hot skin, so I sat down on the window seat and leaned my head against the cold glass panes. I was grateful when my scars stopped bothering me, and I watched my skin as a sheen of pale silver settled over them. Thinking nothing of it except for how wonderful it felt, I tucked my knees to lay chest and leaned against the window, more than eager to finally fall asleep.