How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 125

Lilith rested their chin in their palm, a leg propped up as she watched Max and Malia in the crowd. Well, he hadn't been murdered yet and they seemed to be talking civilly, which was a good sign. Scott was trying to interject into their conversation, though, so he was probably acting as keeper of the peace— no surprise there. God, if only she had people fighting over them like that. Here Stiles was, having Max and Malia pining over him like little lost puppies and he was letting them both slip through his fingers by fucking them about and not making up his mind! It was bound to end in heartache! Oh, and who would be left to pick up the pieces and make sure Max was going to meetings, staying away from alcohol? She and Jade.

Not to mention the one person she wanted, didn't like them back. Lilith knew they had to move on from Jade, but did people ever fully, completely get over their first love? It didn't seem possible, not when that person made your fingers light up with electricity, your heart ache when you were away from each other, helping you feel things you didn't even know existed up until you met them. But if they couldn't have Jade, she at least hoped Lydia made her happy.

Seriously, the pack either didn't have two eyes or were the stupidest people on earth. She hadn't even been in the lake house for two seconds before knowing what was going on; Lydia and Jade were a secret couple, just as they had suspected since moving to California. Of course, Lilith hadn't told anyone, mouth zipped tightly shut as far as it could go. Truly, it wasn't anyone's business apart from the two girls.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Lilith asked, raising a brow in concern as Max stumbled towards her. "Please don't tell me you've—"

"Nope, someone's been attacked with a taser!" Max exclaimed, gritting his teeth in pain. Despite the temptation, he hadn't had a drink. Malia had forgiven him— which was more than what Stiles was in for—, taking away most of the pressure he had been under. Malia's arm was wrapped around his shoulder, the girl struggling to walk on her own, vodka not sitting well in her stomach, contrary to the belief that alcohol didn't affect werewolves. "Scott said not to let her out of our sight and we need to go find him and Liam," he explained quickly, allowing Lilith to take some of Malia's weight.

Although it was claustrophobic, Scott's exact words had been to stay together and on their feet, meaning pushing their way through the middle of the dancing crowd was their only option.

"He hasn't had enough alcohol to get him like this," Mason said, worriedly glancing at his best friend who looked on the verge of dying. He was drooping forward, only being held up by Scott, who had adjusted to the brotherly mindset that gave him the instinct to look out for the freshmen.

"Good, you're here," Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair at the approach of his friends. Now would really be a great time to have Derek around, because he didn't understand what was happening. Werewolves couldn't get drunk, it had been set in stone when he first turned and couldn't get that high; it was all down to their healing process. So, why on earth were Malia and Liam both drunk and barely able to string a sentence together between the two of them? "Something's happening. We need to get them out of here, I think we're gonna have to..."

"How much did you drink?" Mason spluttered, voice wavering in fear. He thought Scott was the sensible one, preaching about safety and not consuming too much alcohol, yet he was just as drunk as the others! Maybe his first thought had been right; Jade was the most responsible.

Scott's brows furrowed into confusion, the words ringing through his ears but not registering at the same time. His fingers had multiplied when he looked down, a shadow outlining them. Okay, this was really starting to make no sense. "Nothing. Not even a sip." Pausing for a second, loud music burst through his eardrums, splitting his head in two. "It's not the drinks. It's the music. I have to turn it off, just— don't let them out of your light. Sight."