Shapeshifters ¹ [Isaac L.]

JUUROKU

While his words were heavy and bloomed in all of his betas some degree of trepidation, some were clearly more affected than others. In the back of her mind, Miya made a note to devote some time into coddling Isaac a little later. She truly despised the tang of his fear.

" When is it going to be her turn? " Erica sneered, jutting her chin Miya's way.

" My turn? " The vixen scoffed. " Am I suddenly a member of this little werewolf playgroup? "

Glancing over at the big bad wolf himself, she expected Derek to vehemently rebuke the beta— not for her benefit but for the mere insinuation that a fox like her could ever be apart of a wolf pack. To her abject shock and horror, the green-eyed wolf's stoic face broke to betray a, dare she say, playful look.

" ... Scared? "

Immediately, Miya bristled at the insult.

" I left your uncle, who— though psychotic— was infinitely more ruthless than you, halfway in the grave while he had been hopped up on the rush of his red eyes. Listen well to my heartbeat, wolf, am I scared? " There was only one loser in the dick-measuring contest and it surely was not the vixen.

Sniffing arrogantly in the face of her victory, she cast the wolves a sweeping glance of disgust (though it softened to affection when it landed on her clear favorite) before turning on her heel and sauntering away. She could only spend so much time surrounded by the stink of wet dog.

The Hale alpha watched the vixen swagger out. His ears keen and alert to the roar of a V8 engine, stock still until it faded to silence. Then, he issued his commands:

" Erica, Boyd— we're going to grab Stiles at the lacrosse game tonight. He encountered the creature yesterday and needs to be questioned. "

Erica and Boyd nodded, having little to say to that. While not at all cut up about the kidnap and psychological torture of a certain Stilinski, Derek's most promising beta had words to say on an adjacent matter.

" Why did you goad Miya to leave before telling us? " The blue-eyed wolf asked, eyes narrowed and hackled raised.

" Miya is not pack, Isaac. " The alpha's tone was firm. It had to be, Derek sighed internally.

Isaac and Miya... were playing a dangerous game. Their lives, at this point, were inexplicably tangled. They pulled each other in. When one moved, the other followed and when Derek looked at them sometimes, just sometimes, he could see the ghost of a young green-eyed wolf and a girl with a mole under her left eye. He knew how stories like theirs would end...

In tragedy.

So, as his alpha and, therefore, sworn guardian and guide, Derek planted the seed:

" Besides, don't you know? That fox always had a little bit of soft spot for her twitchy fledgling. "

After all, wolves and foxes don't get along. Miya and Isaac cannot be an exception to that.

—

Miya's nose wrinkled.

" But why do I need to post about my lunch? " The vixen queried, phone clutched in her hands, eyeing the strawberry blonde across the table like the  girl would slap her with a dead fish any second. Lydia scoffed, rolling her big doe-eyes in the disappointed, disapproving way only Lydia Martin knew how.

" Because you haven't posted anything since you started your Instagram— "

"— you mean since you made me start my Instagram? " Miya corrected. To her best friend's ire.