Heart Of Darkness >> Teen Wolf (Book 2)

Twisting The Knife Into An Already Bleeding Heart

+

We sat on the couches I sat next to Stiles who barely looked at me after my outburst. Add it to my list of things I screwed up today.

“Okay, so if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he? How old were you two? How old are you now?” Stiles questions looking between Peter and I.

“Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, that was frustratingly vague. How old are you?” Stiles asks Cora. “I'm 17.” Cora replies.

“See, that's an answer. That's how we answer people.” Stiles points out to Peter.

“Well, 17 how you'd measure in years.” Cora adds.

“All right, I'm just gonna drop it.”

“I was 7 and Derek was 15.” I reply while giving Peter a look.

“What happened to Derek and the cello girl?” Stiles inquires.

“What do you think happened? They're teenagers. One minute, it's 'I hate you, don't talk to me.' The next it's frantic groping in any dark corner they could manage to find themselves alone in for five minutes. Their favorite dark corner was an abandoned distillery outside of Beacon Hills.”

Stiles cuts Peter off. “How do you know all this? You just said they were alone.”

“Back then Peter wasn't just me and Derek's uncle. He was our best friend, we were always together, he was our closest confidante. We told him everything.” I reply.

+

I followed Peter through the woods, he held my hand to make sure I stayed close to him. “Why are we following Derek?” I ask.

“To make sure he doesn't shift.” Peter replies.

“Why? Is it because he has hormones?” Peter turns to look at me.

“How do you know about those, you're not even eight yet.”

“Because I read Derek's textbooks when I get bored.”

“Remind me to hide those.” We go up to the building Peter crouches down, he places a finger to his lips. I nod and stay quiet. After a few moments the sound of footsteps coming toward us alerts Peter.

Peter grabs my shoulder and pulls me behind boxes.

Three packs walk into the distillery. It was the first time I saw Kali, Ennis and Deucalion.

My head shoots up when I hear howling in the distance. I see my mom in her wolf form her beautiful crimson eyes glowing.

I look through the crack and see my mom standing tall, beautiful the way she always was.

“We're not the only people to adhere to rituals thousands of years old.” Mom states.

“Which is no excuse for not evolving.” Deucalion points out.

“They ripped his claws right out of his fingers. How is that evolving? Useless debate. I'm done with it.” Ennis spat.

He walked over to the wall and placed his claws on the metal.

“Ennis, don't. Don't make us part of a historical cliché. With two such powers, it never ends at an eye for an eye. A skirmish becomes a way. Murder becomes a massacre. And we end up no better than out enemies.”