burned ➷ stiles stilinski [1]

19. panic cord

listen to: come away to the water - maroon 5

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I trailed behind Scott as we walked through the crowded hallways of Beacon Hills. My patience was thinning with the werewolf, and I was growing even more annoyed with the fact that he didn't let me go with Stiles to help Cora.

Instead of listening to what the wolf was trying to explain to me, I studied the students that passed by us, heading for their next class. It made me sick to my stomach that these humans had no idea what was going on around them. They were blind to reality; a reality where the supernatural wasn't just a fairytale.

It almost made me burst out laughing. Here were the humans that were so precious to the Earth, yet they had no idea what was going on in their own world.

"Blaise? Were you even listening?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and shot Scott an annoyed look. "Nope." I adjusted my bag's strap that hung lazily over my shoulder. "What were you blabbering about?"

He slowed his pace down, allowing me to catch up with him before he started his explanation.

"So, while you were down in the locker room, Stiles and I talked to Ethan," he said. "And get this: the twins were Omegas before they became Alphas."

He seemed proud of his knowledge, so I raised my eyebrows and simply said: "Wow."

"Shocking, right? Anyway, Ethan said that to become an Alpha in Deucalion's pack, he and Aiden had to kill everyone in their former pack. Everyone." He paused for a moment as we turned the corner. "They had to become monsters before they could become Alphas."

"That's how Deucalion became what he is today. He was a Beta, but his family treated him like an Omega. Finally he just lashed out and killed all of them." I locked my gaze on his. "It's like initiation, Scott."

His eyebrows furrowed. "How did you know that?"

I pursed my lips. That was information about my past... information that only Stiles should know.

So I just shrugged the question off. "It doesn't matter."

Scott looked at me for a moment longer, suspicious of my answer, but didn't push it. "So, like I was saying, Deucalion made them kill everyone in their packs, including their emissaries. The only emissary alive and working for Deucalion is actually inside the school at this very moment."

"Deucalion's emissary?" I asked.

"Yep. Her name's Miss Marin Morrell," he said. "Sound familiar?" Scott suddenly cut away from the hall full of students and shuffled into a white room. I followed him, my eyes catching the teacher's nametag sitting on her neatly organized desk.

"Our guidance counselor?" I muttered.

A tanned woman walked out from her office and into the room we stood in, deeply focused on the papers in her hands. "Sorry, but I don't remember having any more appointments," she said, looking up from her papers with a gentle smile on her lips.

But as she laid her eyes on Scott and I, her smile faded rather quickly.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. "Because we could use a little guidance right now."

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I sunk down into the plush, wool chair across from Miss Marin Morrell's desk. Scott fidgeted next to me, something obviously on his mind as the guidance counselor glared at him from behind her desk.

"Why are you bothering with me, Scott?" the woman asked, not even glancing in my direction. "You know the clock is ticking. Someone else is about to be taken."