Perdition

Sacrifice

The werewolves were moving so fast, they were all blurs in Stiles' human sight, though he tried to keep his focus on the one he loved… They were losing. All of them, and all he had to do was stop resisting long enough to let the shadows overtake him. His sacrifice could save his friends. Derek warned him of the dangers associated with strengthening his magic. Derek warned that where there's magic, demons will flock. And now, his pack, his friends, brothers, his Mate, even… they were dying to protect him. Stiles knew he could never live with the guilt of their deaths. Since werewolves couldn't be possessed, he had to be the one.

"Derek," Stiles called, his voice shaking.

"What?" Derek replied hotly. "I'm sort of busy at the moment."

Stiles looked in his direction. "I love you," he said. Derek instantly knew what was about to happen.

Stiles let his force field drop. "NO!" Derek screamed as the shadows entered through his Mate's mouth, eyes, and nose. Stiles collapsed. Derek rushed to his side, the remaining demons simply vanished. Stiles body was limp in the Alpha's arms. "Stiles," he whispered, trying to contain the sorrow he felt. "Stiles wake up…"

He held his Mate to his chest, sobbing. Scott and Isaac approached slowly. "Derek…" Isaac started.

"Leave us alone!" the Alpha commanded. The betas obeyed, stepping back. Derek needed more privacy than that. "GO!" he bellowed. The pack slowly retreated out, all of them feeling the loss of their friend, believing him dead as Derek did.

Derek ran his fingers through his Mate's hair, tears trickling from his cheek and falling on the body in his arms. He tenderly wiped away the dirt and blood from the peaceful face looking up at him. "We could have taken them… you didn't need to do this," Derek cried softly. The body stirred, giving Derek hope that perhaps his Mate was not lost. His eyes fluttered open, but rather than the beautiful light brown that Derek had committed to memory, his eyes were entirely black voids.

"Touching sentiments, mutt," the words coming from Stiles' mouth were not words Derek would ever hear. "He didn't do it to save you, he did it to save himself. Humans do that, you know…" An evil smile curled on Stiles' lips and Derek was thrown backwards by an unseen force.

"Let him go!" Derek growled, managing to land on his feet. He shifted. His claws were ready.

"I really don't think I will," the voice said. "I've been waiting centuries for a Mage strong enough to handle my power. I wanted a powerful Alpha at my disposal, but you mongrels are off limits…"

"I'll fucking kill you," Derek promised.

"Again, I really don't think you will," the demon chuckled. "You injure me, and Stiles feels the pain. Try to kill me using any physical means, I'll just find another host and leave you his corpse. But if you cooperate… I'll return him to you unharmed."

"How do I know you haven't destroyed him already?" Derek demanded.

The demon cocked its head to the side, the black voids in his eyes faded, replaced by the familiar eyes of his Mate. "Derek… I'm sorry…" Stiles' voice sounded weak.

"It's alright, Stiles. Hang in there. We'll free you, I promise… I love you," Derek managed before the demon was once again in control.

"So here are the terms of my arrangement. You help me unleash all manner of hell onto this miserable rock… you get your little boytoy back."

"Don't call him my boytoy," Derek warned. "I'll do what I need to in order to save him… but if you harm him in any way, I will make you regret it."

"Such empty words from the wounded puppy," the Demon teased, offering his hand. "Shake on it, mutt."

Reluctantly, he offered his hand to the Demon. Stiles' skin felt icy against his own. "What is your name?"