willow | d. hale [on hold]

24 | half a heart

"I've not shifted, Derek. Not even come close," Willow argued. "We've been doing these training sessions to test my speed and senses and reflexes, and nothing has come of it — unless you count the bruises from how many times I've fallen over."

It was similar to those training sessions with Chris Argent. Derek was determined to make sure she knew how to defend herself — even if very little progress was being made.

"Until the next full moon comes around, we can't be sure," Derek told her. "And for all we know, we just aren't getting your heart rate up enough. With the adrenaline from the race and the cardio, that could change. We can't risk it. But if nothing happens by the full moon, you can go to the rest of the meets."

"You're being way too paranoid," she said, shaking her head. "We've literally tried everything to get me to shift, and nothing."

"Well, not everything," Derek muttered under his breath. But Willow still heard him.

"What haven't we tried?" Willow asked, raising an eyebrow.

Derek couldn't help but smirk at his new idea. "What, other than anger and lacrosse, made it difficult for Scott when he first turned?"

"Well, Allison," she said. "At least when things got... heated..."

Willow's words trailed off as Derek drew nearer, getting just what he was hinting at. She was certain that she wouldn't have complaints about this next attempt to get her pulse to rise.

The cold bricks dug into her back as Derek pressed her up against them. His lips harshly molded to hers, kissing her so fiercely that it took her breath away. Willow threw her arms around his neck, hands grasping at the back of his t-shirt.

Derek's tongue traced her lips, and for the first time, Willow wouldn't let him in. As cruel of a punishment that she could muster for keeping her from the cross-country meet. He wasn't pleased, a low and possessive growl escaping.

A warm hand made its way to her throat, and as Derek applied the smallest bit of pressure, Willow let out an unexpected excited gasp. That was just what Derek needed, slipping his tongue in her mouth to claim her.

Willow's heart was hammering in her chest, her knees were shaking, she forgot about the need to breathe. She came undone so quickly in a way that only Derek could make her, the only one to ever draw such sinful noises from her lips.

But one reaction that he didn't elicit from her was claws and fangs and glowing eyes.

Of course, the lack of any kind of transition didn't deter him. His warm hands slipped under her sweatshirt as her own tightly gripped his hair, desperately deepening the kiss. Her hips moved forward against his, a shiver running down her spine when she felt him underneath the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Could you stop defiling dear Willow for five minutes?" As soon as they heard Peter, Derek and Willow pulled apart and looked at him. Cora and Boyd were standing behind him, little smirks on all three of their faces. Derek was annoyed while Willow just looked flustered and embarrassed to be caught in such a position.

"What?" Derek asked harshly, not appreciating the interruption. "And I'm not defiling her."

Instead of getting to the point, Peter couldn't help but get in a few more teasing comments. "Well, I think it's safe to say she's probably not a wolf. With how fast her heart's beating, she should've been clawing your back up — though I'm sure she still does that as a human."

"Peter," Willow whispered shyly. "You're not funny."

"Don't kid yourself, sweetheart. You think I'm hilarious," he said, chuckling. "But onto the more serious matters. Children, mind telling Mom and Dad what you found?"