sorry this took me so long to update, but it's a longer chapter filled with A LOT OF IMPORTANT THINGS/REFERENCES
and i was also thinking that i would make an 8tracks playlist to go with the story, because usually the mood of the chapter associates with the song. just let me know if you would want it!!! (i'll probs do it anyway lol)
hope you guys enjoy :)
listen to: her - majid jordan
↣↣↣
The atmosphere inside the ambulance was quiet; the ragged breaths Cora took the only thing making noise.
I had tried many times to regain my strength by saying Jennifer's riddle, yet nothing worked. She must have cut me off from her power, even though from our link she must know I was injured. Crazy bitch.
The only thing keeping me from closing my eyes forever was the fact that Stiles was with me. He had held my hand for the past fifteen minutes, his palm getting sweaty from the constant contact. His face had gone from placid to frustrated to absolutely furious in seconds, yet he hadn't said a word.
I let him be, seeing that he was obviously fighting an inner battle. It probably had something to do about his father, and nothing I would say could cheer him up. The one thing he needed was hope...yet it was something I didn't think I could give him when I didn't have it myself. The darkness around my heart would not allow for any healing or hope.
I pursed my lips, deep in thought. I wondered what would happen to these kids if I died. Maybe they would be better off, maybe they would crash and burn - I didn't know. The only thing I knew for sure was that my name was the Shadow Phoenix for a reason: Death followed wherever I went.
I was a killer who mourned over her victims; a monster who wore a pretty face.
These teenagers deserved more than what they were getting. They deserved a happy life, where the only thing they feared was failing their math test or getting a detention. Stiles shouldn't be here without his father, Scott shouldn't be worried about Deucalion, Cora shouldn't be sick.
Unfortunately, the world wasn't kind enough to allow prosperity.
My dark thoughts were consuming me, just as the mistletoe was eating away at my life. I wondered if it was doing the same to Stiles, who sat beside me, his foot tapping against the floor rapidly. I studied his face; his ghostly skin, his deep, dark eyes that mesmerized me, his chapped lips that he chewed at relentlessly.
He was beautiful in more ways than one, but some of that beauty had been stripped away from grief.
I frowned. Someone as good and selfless as him shouldn't be living in this dark, cold-hearted world.
Life was a twisted game, but playing it had made us stronger.
But was it worth it? Was life worth enduring just to become a stronger person?
I may never know.
↣↣↣
"Are we waiting for someone?" I asked, breaking the tension that filled the truck.
"Scott," Stiles said tersely.
I looked from his worried and scrunched up face down to our linked hands. Trying to lighten the mood, I brought up a different subject.
"Stiles, what are we?"
The question definitely got his attention.
"Uh..." he muttered. "Does it matter?"
I hummed. "Not to me." My lips broke out into a small smile. "I was just thinking it's funny if you say it out loud. 714 year old Blaise is in love with, and technically dating, 17 year old Stiles."
Surprisingly, he chuckled. "You're a cougar."
A laugh bubbled out of my mouth, but it faded when the pain from my wound came back. Ignoring the feeling, I smirked at Stiles. "What would you tell people at school?"
"Hm," he said, putting his hand to his chin in mock thought. "I'd tell them I'm getting it on with a really hot college chick." He nodded to himself. "That sounds good, yeah?"
My smile grew. "You haven't gotten a taste of anything yet, Stiles. I don't think you understand how many tricks I've got up my sleeve."
At that, he truly laughed; the noise a mixture of a snort and chuckle. It was cute, and it sounded like music to my ears. Finally, this boy was smiling again.
But our sarcastic comments ceased when I tensed, my sensitive hearing picking up on a noise outside. Stiles quickly noticed my change in demeanor and stood, making his way to look out the small ambulance window. I didn't dare try and move, for fear of falling off the bench I sat on and drawing attention to the truck.
I leaned my head against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut hard and concentrating on making my breaths quieter. If a werewolf was outside the ambulance, they would definitely pick up on my labored breathing.
Stiles peered out the window, but slowly inched back towards me when a low growl resonated through the air. I pulled my legs to my chest, making room for him to sit next to me, out of the werewolf's line of sight.
I poked him with my shoe to make him look at me. Who? I mouthed.
Twins. He frowned, creating creases to form on his forehead. Did they do this to you? He gestured to my stitches.
Bringing up my wound only made me remember the pain. With a grimace, I nodded. Suddenly, Stiles placed his hand on my stomach, right above the stitches. I glanced up at him to see why he was openly touching me, but he gave me a pained look.
I'm sorry.
I winced. He shouldn't feel sorry for me. Pity was something that I didn't usually accept, but Stiles was an exception.
Instead of telling him to take back his apology, I simply put my hand over his, running my thumb back and forth across his soft skin. The gesture made me comfortable, even relaxed me a little bit.
But the moment only lasted so long.
Stiles turned away from me, putting his ear to the wall of the truck to hear better. Whatever he heard, I didn't pick up on. I hoped it wasn't because my powers were fading...
Stiles' eyes grew wide as he faced me again. Someone is out there, he said silently.
My mouth hung open. I couldn't defend myself in my current state, let alone Stiles and Cora. I hated myself for not being strong and I simply loathed the fact that if someone was going to attack us, there was nothing I could do.
Just as Stiles was about to push open the ambulance door, two hands slammed against the window. I almost peed my pants from the shock.
"Stiles, open the door!" I peered around the wall I was leaning on to see a weak-looking Peter holding onto Scott's shoulder for dear life. "Open the door!"
"Oh um - sorry sorry sorry," Stiles muttered, pushing the doors open. Scott practically threw Peter on the pale boy, just so he could drag him into the truck and sit him next to me.
Scott stuck his head into the truck, giving me an incredulous look. "What happened to you?"
I drew in a ragged breath. "The twins."
The Beta narrowed his eyes, trying to process how the hell I, the Shadow Phoenix of 714 years, could get beat up by the Voultron wolf. Quite honestly, I was asking the same question myself.
"Where are Derek and Jennifer?" Stiles asked, quick to change the subject away from my diminishing health.
"I have to go back for them," Scott explained. "Them, and my mom."
Stiles leaned in closer to his friend. "Okay. We have three problems," he started. "Kali's got the keys to this thing, I just saw the twins thirty seconds ago, and Blaise is dying."
Suddenly, my sensitive ears picked up on the sound of someone walking through the halls inside the hospital. Scott looked desperately at Stiles and I. "Wait here."
"Scott!" I called, not wanting the boy to leave. "Scott - wait."
He whirled around to face me. "What?"
"Is Kali with Deucalion?" I asked.
His face scrunched up in thought. "I think so. Maybe."
I looked to Stiles. "I'm going to get the keys to this ambulance." Then, to Scott, "Go ahead. I'll go alone."
The werewolf gave me a sharp nod. "Be careful." Then he started into the hospital again.
Stiles was just shaking his head vigorously. "No. This is just like when you thought you could take on the twins, now look what happened!"
I didn't take his words personally - I was too focused on winning the argument. "I'm going in. Deucalion won't hurt me."
The pale boy just looked at me, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions: grief, pain, fear. He bit his lower lip in frustration, his right eye twitching slightly. "Blaise, don't."
"I can't just sit in here and do nothing while you guys look at me like I'm already dead!" I snapped. I stood up shakily, making my way towards the end of the truck. Using the ledge to steady myself, I safely stood on the concrete ground again. "There is no way you're stopping me, Stiles. I have to help."
"You're dying." His face went slack, and I could see tears pooling in his eyes. "You said you would never leave me."
I reached into the truck, taking his warm hand. "My soul lives within you, Stiles, and it always will. I could never truly leave you." I gave his hand a small squeeze. "But this is my job. I have to become who I used to be." Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips against his. He pulled me towards him, but I stayed put, breaking the passion of the kiss.
His eyes were glistening still as he looked at me, shocked that I pulled away. "Blaise -"
"That was for if anything happens to me," I said, my voice trembling as I tried to keep myself together. "I love you, Stiles. Don't ever forget that."
My hand slipped out of his and I closed the ambulance doors, watching Stiles shrink back inside the truck with a hurt expression. But I couldn't let it bother me.
Turning around, I faced the hospital with a stony expression. Hopefully I hadn't lost too much of my supernatural senses so I could still catch Deucalion's scent.
I had the urge to turn around and stay safe in the truck, but I knew I couldn't. If I were to die tonight, it would be fighting for the pack I was supposed to protect. I would fight until I couldn't fight anymore.
It was now or never.
↣↣↣
My legs pushed my body through the halls of Beacon Hills Hospital, my nose in the air as I tried to pick up Deucalion's distinct scent. I felt like a dog hunting its prey... though I didn't really feel like a predator in my current condition.
Black mistletoe had started dripping out of my stitches after walking for only five minutes. It was almost if my body was trying to heal itself but was failing magnificently. Mistletoe to a Phoenix was like wolfsbane to a werewolf: deadly.
I tried not to look at the trail of black blood I was leaving. It reminded me too much of my impending death.
Instead, I focused on my sense of smell. It took all of my willpower to keep myself together and continue walking despite my wooziness. It was almost as if I could feel the life leaking out of me, drip by drip... but I couldn't let it stop me from getting to where I needed to be.
I crawled up a flight of stairs, knowing the elevators were out of order because the electricity was out. Every step was a struggle, but I pushed away the pain and made my way to the second floor.
Right when I reached the second level of the hospital, I felt a powerful aura hovering in the still air. It reminded me of my own aura, the one that drew people to me. But this one was different... it was darker, trying to lure me into a trap.
Deucalion.
I pushed myself up from a push-up position, holding onto the railing to steady my wobbly legs. For a moment I simply stood there, closing my eyes, trying to imagine where the aura was trying to lead me.
A sigh escaped my lips and I opened my eyes again, now knowing exactly where Deucalion and Kali were.
↣↣↣
I leaned against the wall next to the door that led to Deucalion and Kali. Before I stupidly barged in and demanded for the ambulance keys, I stood still and tried to regain some of my strength.
My ears listened into the conversation going on inside the room. "I did everything you wanted to be a part of this pack!" Kali said, her voice pleading.
"You did it because of Ennis," Deucalion seethed, his heavy English accent dripping with venom, "Don't point that accusing toe at me." The tone of his voice sent my body rigid. Maybe I had caught them at a bad time.
I suppose there was no point in leaving, though. Both of them had already picked up on my scent, but were too involved in their conversation to care.
"And, as for harmless," he continued, "how harmless does she look now?"
"I thought she was dead!" Kali said.
"Did you?"
Kali started to explain herself while I was in deep thought. By the way Deucalion was talking, it sounded like they were arguing about Jennifer. But how would Kali know the Darach personally? How would she have had the chance to kill her in the past?
My mouth almost dropped to the floor when I finally figured it out: Jennifer Blake was Kali's emissary.
I wondered why the Darach would even bother trying to help a pack. Maybe after England, it's spirit wanted to become good again.
I doubted that.
There must have been a different reason why the Darach would ever help out Kali and get tangled into this Alpha pack mess. What that reason was, I had no idea.
"My heart bleeds for you, Kali. Apparently Jennifer's could have bled a little more." Deucalion's deep and dangerous voice snapped me out of my wandering thoughts.
After his remark, it was dead silent in the room. The only thing I could hear was the thumping of my heart in my chest and the ragged breaths my lungs took.
Suddenly, a hand caught my arm and swung me into the room before I could even say a word. The quick movement caused me to get nauseous, pain blossoming from my wound once more.
I was pinned to the wall, a firm hand wrapped around my throat. My blurry vision focused just enough to see Kali was holding me up and off the ground, blocking my airways. She playfully dragged her sharp nails across my neck.
"You were listening," she seethed, her eyes glowing crimson in her rage.
"Does it seriously matter?" I asked.
She glowered. "You're working with Jennifer. It matters."
I laughed hysterically. It wasn't really that funny, but I was so exhausted to the point where anything was hilarious. "I am not working with anybody."
The she-wolf just continued to glare at me, her hand tightening around my throat just enough that I couldn't breathe. Maybe coming up here was a big mistake. I cursed silently to myself, knowing I should have listened to Stiles.
Before I was seeing stars, Deucalion snapped at his Alpha. "Kali. Set her down."
But she didn't listen. "You're a hypocrite, Duke. You give me shit about not killing Jennifer, yet here's Blaise, alive and trying to kill us." One of her nails pricked the exposed skin on my collarbone, causing a small trail of blood to form. "Do you want me to finish what you started, Duke?"
"Set her down, Kali. You know what happens when someone disobeys me," Deucalion replied, his calm façade never wavering.
Instead of letting me down nicely, she threw me to the floor in disgust. I grunted as I my back crashed into the cabinets, my anger flaring from being thrown around so much lately.
"So," Duke mused, "I have to confess: I'm curious. Why have you come to seek us out?"
I didn't respond right away, pushing myself up to a sitting position. I leaned my head back against the cabinets, trying not to focus on the pain I was feeling at the moment, around my neck and my wound.
"I came to ask for the keys to the ambulance outside," I said. "But apparently that isn't going to happen." I quirked an eyebrow at Kali, who just bared her fangs at me.
Deucalion simply chuckled. "Blaise, I know you're not that naïve. Why would we give you an advantage while your little group is trying to get Miss Blake out of here?"
I sighed. "The ambulance isn't for her. It's for the pack. I came up here to negotiate the keys because anywhere those werewolves go they end up injured by the twins. I can't have anyone dying tonight." Myself as the exception, of course.
Kali just snorted. "You really are stupid, aren't you?"
Before I could say anything, Duke answered for me. "No, Kali. She's desperate," he said. He slid his sunglasses off, revealing his nasty, bloodshot, crimson eyes. Looking at them made me nostalgic for the icy blue ones I used to love. "Actually, more than desperate. You're dying, aren't you?" When I didn't respond, he nodded to himself. "I can smell the blood."
I frowned, not liking it one bit that he knew I was weak. Then again, I probably looked like hell, so it could be obvious I had been in a scuffle or two.
My arms reached up and grasped the handles of the cabinets. My hands were clammy and they slipped off the metal handles, but I still managed to pull myself up after about a minute of struggling. I expected Kali to make a bitchy remark, but she was silent as she trained her hearing on something going on below us.
I put most of my body weight on the countertop so I could balance. Out of curiosity, I listened in to the conversation downstairs.
My eyes widened when I realized who it was.
Scott.
"What are they doing?" Kali asked, looking over to her Alpha.
Duke wore a small smile, his voice cheery. "Plotting."
I grimaced. The last plan Scott had come up with, I had ended up convulsing black vomit onto the floor.
"What do we do about them?" It was Kali's voice that broke me from my thoughts yet again. I shifted my body so that I was leaning on the countertop in a more comfortable position while Deucalion thought about Kali's question.
"Just go," he finally said. "Go and wait to see what their brilliant plan is."
Kali grinned, turning her fierce gaze towards me. "I'll make sure I don't hurt your pack too much. No promises, though."
I sighed. "Just get out."
"Gladly." She spun around on her bare feet; her toenails click-clacking all the way down the hall. I wondered how she never broke a nail. Did she have a filer in her back pocket? These were important questions.
Deucalion waited until she had completely vanished to speak to me. His voice was softer than his usual Alpha tone. I tried not to read too much into it.
"Why haven't you healed?"
Another sigh escaped my lips. "Why do you care?"
"You are answering my question with another question," he deadpanned. "I am simply curious."
I hummed, slowly limping my way over to the table he stood by. It was like a staring contest; I was across from him, my pained, brown eyes watching his blotchy, crimson ones. A faint memory surfaced as the silence grew, one where his eyes were not a bloody red but a magnificent, honey gold. Beautiful... not deadly.
"I'm not healing because Jennifer has linked me to herself," I said, my voice lacking emotion. "I guess you could say she is using me as a bargaining chip."
He was simply amused. "And why is that?"
I blew the loose strands of hair away from my face in annoyance. "She is using me to keep Derek's pack from killing her."
Duke's fingers wrapped around his cane that was sitting on the metal table we stood by. He tapped it on the ground, the noise echoing in the otherwise silent room. "I am very observant, Blaise," he said. "And I can see that Cora Hale is the reason why Derek's pack is being obedient. Not you." He tilted his head to the side, studying me. "It would be wise of you to tell me the truth. Why does Jennifer need you?"
"You already know the answer," I said, shaking my head. "I was fascinated at how well you detected lies... though you always believed the lies you told yourself." A sickly smile made its way onto my lips. "Now here we are, in the position we're both in, because you're mind was weak."
My attempt to make him feel guilty worked. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Blaise. Just tell me why Jennifer needs you," he said. Did I detect a hint of desperation in his voice?
"She needs me to kill you." I leaned over the table and poked his chest with my finger. "Because the bitch is too weak to do it herself."
"Ah," he said, that amused smirk making its way onto his face again. "It seems quite cliché to me."
I chuckled, but the humor faded when my legs buckled from underneath me. Black mistletoe spilled from my mouth and made a mess on the tiled ground. I was on all fours as I convulsed, my arms shaking so badly I couldn't feel them anymore.
A shooting pain was sent through my head and I screamed, the noise more unpleasant than ever before. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Duke covering his ears because of my screech.
The only vision that came to me was the image of an unconscious Derek in the elevator while the Darach herself climbed through the safety hatch.
The vision faded as soon as it had appeared, so all I was left with was the pain.
Arms were pulling me off of the floor and propping me up against the metal table, though my legs were quaking just as badly as my arms. In fact, my whole body trembled.
I looked down with teary eyes, pulling up my t-shirt to see my wound was festering as black liquid oozed from the stitches. It was a gruesome sight to say the least.
"Blaise." Glancing back up, I saw Deucalion standing in front of me. His face was void of emotion. "What's happening?"
I shook my head in shame. "I don't know. I only felt the pain." Out of habit, I clutched my stomach wound.
Duke took my bloody hand in his, determination written all over his aged face. At first, I wanted to pull away, but then I saw black veins rising along his forearm, pulsing with energy.
He was taking away my pain.
A groan escaped my lips as I was relieved of the agony living inside me. I clutched Duke's leather jacket with my free hand to maintain my balance. The relief was hitting me so hard it was difficult to stay upright.
I looked up at him curiously. He was staring past me, his jaw set, pain evident on his face. Other than that, there was no other emotion I could see.
I choked out as he kept taking away the pain, feeling my wound starting to heal itself. I leaned my head on his chest, the relief rushing through me so hard I felt as if I would faint. The only discomfort was the stitches Stiles had sewed into my skin were coming out, pushed away by my new, regenerating cells.
This man, the one that I have loathed ever since the day he slaughtered his family, ever since he convinced himself that I never loved him, ever since he drove his hand through my chest... this man, he was healing me.
If I was younger, I wouldn't have understood why. But I knew. Watching others in pain is more agonizing than being in pain.
But luckily, Duke was a werewolf. He had the ability to take away pain and agony, transferring it to himself. It was simply his choice whether he wanted to use his gift or not.
I was surprised he wanted to use it on me.
He finally let go of my hand and stepped away. I no longer needed to hold onto his jacket for support, for my body was balanced and strong again. I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding and looked at Deucalion through my eyelashes.
"Thank you."
He grimaced, obviously still feeling the agony I had buried deep in my veins. "I healed you, but I can still feel the mistletoe inside you. Unfortunately, the only person who can take that poison out of you is Jennifer."
I frowned, remembering that the dangerous plant was still running through my veins. Before I could say anything, Deucalion spoke again. "You love him, don't you?"
My head snapped up from the floor and I looked at him, shock evident in my features. "What?"
"The pale boy. You love him, yes?" There was almost a note of sadness in his voice.
I crossed my arms, standing up straight. Suddenly, I felt defensive. "Yes."
He nodded, more to himself than me. He opened his mouth to speak, quickly closed it, then finally spoke. "My pack will not touch him," he said, his voice quieter. "I will make sure of it."
Now this... I couldn't understand it. I shook my head at him. "Why?"
A ghost of a smile flickered on his lips. "He has changed you." He put a finger on his chin. "I only have a few decades left in this world, while you may have a few centuries. I feel that you deserve one last epic love."
I was so confused. But, unfortunately, a loud bang from outside cut our conversation off.
"What was that?" I snapped.
The smile on his face faded almost instantly. "Jennifer."
↣↣↣
Deucalion walked with such grace that if someone were to see him, who had not known him as long as I have, they would maybe think that he strolled through abandoned hallways everyday of his life. But I could see past his calm façade.
He wasn't expecting Jennifer to escape.
t threw me off as well. I thought she would either give up or die trying to get past the Alphas.
I had to speed walk to keep up with Duke's quick pace. "What's happening?" I asked, watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I know that face. You can feel something."
He slipped his glasses back on, shielding me from the horrible sight of his gouged eyes. "I knew it," he muttered. "It was Guardians."
I looked away from him, trying to understand. Guardians. Jennifer took Sheriff Stilinski, who was a father... but also a guardian.
I huffed out in annoyance, not liking that I didn't understand. "What did you feel, Duke?"
He was silent for a moment as we briskly walked down the empty hallway. I could tell that he was angry, but he was good at controlling it. "Jennifer took Scott's mother," he said flatly. "I can smell Scott's fear. Didn't you just hear him call out for her below us?"
I frowned, upset that I didn't hear him. "Damn mistletoe," I grumbled.
Suddenly, Deucalion grabbed the crook of my arm, turning into a different hallway. "Come on, Blaise. We're going to make an ultimatum."
"You're using me?" I laughed.
He hummed. "Not exactly." We were coming up on the exit, but Duke stopped right in front of the door and turned towards me. "Listen to me closely. If Scott doesn't come with me, you will. I don't like the hold Jennifer has on you, but I want Scott in my pack." His grip around my arm tightened. "Just know that, either way, I won't hurt him. Do you understand?"
I didn't like it, but I took Duke for his word. He hadn't broken any promises recently, and I knew how much he adored the potential True Alpha. He wouldn't destroy Scott until the time was right...
"I understand," I muttered. The second I said the words, I was rushed outside onto the roof of the hospital.
Deucalion's grip was tight on my wrist - too tight. It seemed his emotions were gone yet again; his worry for my health vanishing in seconds. I was now his bargaining chip.
The night air was freezing, so much so that goosebumps rose on my arms, making me get the chills. My shirt was still drenched with blood and my hair matted down with rainwater. I didn't usually get sick... but who knows what could happen while I still have mistletoe running through my veins.
A sudden yelp cut through the air, making me jump slightly. "MOM!"
My eyes widened as I heard the noise, instinctively lunging out to help the boy. Sadly, I was restrained by Deucalion's harsh grip, so I stayed put. I scowled at him but pushed away my anger, needing Scott to get away before Duke made an irrational deal with him.
"Scott!" I called out.
"Be quiet, Blaise," Duke murmured. "Nothing is going to make him leave. He has lost his mother - he's desperate for answers."
My frown deepened. There was no way out of this encounter. I was healed, yes, but still weaker than I could be. I couldn't fight Deucalion.
"Mom!" Scott yelled again, his voice panicked.
"They're gone," Duke said as we turned the corner, coming upon a different part of the roof. It was dark, but my eyes adjusted enough to see the Beta's figure only ten yards away. "Guardians, Scott. If you were with me, I could've told you what it meant." His voice was simply amused. "I could have warned you."
"Scott," I breathed, making sure he was looking at me. "Don't listen to him. Just leave. He won't hurt me."
A ghost of a smile flickered on Duke's lips. Suddenly, his grip on my arm was crushing the bone as he pulled me against him, brushing his claws against my jugular. I let out a small whimper from the new pain blossoming from my arm. It hurt, but it was tolerable. I showed a straight face so Scott wouldn't worry.
"I told you to be quiet," Duke seethed, only so I could hear.
Then, he turned back to Scott, who was breathing so heavily I wondered if he was having a panic attack.
"I want to help you, Scott. Why don't we... help each other?" the Alpha proposed. "We can then catch Jennifer, and I'll help you get your mother and Stiles' father back."
It pained me to watch Scott, his shoulders slumped, his lip bleeding where it had been cracked open. He had done everything right. He hadn't killed people. He hadn't caused any trouble. Yet, now here he was. Motherless... just as Stiles was fatherless.
Just as Scott took his first steps toward the Alpha, Stiles appeared behind him. My heartbeat quickened and my breath hitched at the sight of him... but he shouldn't be here. He needed to get out before he saw his best friend turn to the person who was supposed to be the enemy.
"Scott." Stiles' voice was broken, filled with mixed emotions. "Scott. Don't do this. Don't go with him..." His sentenced trailed off as his eyes drifted to mine. His eyebrows furrowed in worry and confusion, as if he could tell I was still in pain. "Blaise?"
I swallowed the lump starting to form in my throat. "It's okay," I said, grunting as Duke's hand squeezed even tighter. "It's okay. Both of you just need to leave."
Scott looked from me, then to his best friend. His face was filled with pain. "I don't know what else to do."
"Scott, there's gotta be something else," Stiles pleaded. "There's gotta be another way. We always have a plan B."
The boy just looked at Stiles, his bottom lip trembling. A bead of sweat and blood ran down his face as he shook his head. "Not this time." He turned back around and slowly walked toward where Deucalion was holding me.
I was shaking with anger, fear, sadness; every emotion was running through me as I tried to think of a way out of this.
"Scott!" I yelled, ignoring Duke's warnings. The boy lifted his head to look at me. "Don't be the hero, Scott. Not this time. You have a life to live, a normal life. I'll go with Deucalion, you just have to refuse him."
The Beta just shook his head. "You protect the others. I'm going to find them. I'm going to find both of them."
Scott finally reached us, grabbing my free arm and tugging me out of Deucalion's loosened grasp easily. I stumbled into his chest, but he helped me stay steady. I looked up into his deep, brown eyes, which now held so much pain and sadness that it was hard to keep my gaze steady.
"Scott," I whispered. "Don't."
He didn't say anything as he brushed past me, leaving with Deucalion. I watched idly as their silhouettes faded into the mist.
"Scott!" Stiles called one last time, a failed attempt at trying to get his best friend back.
I turned around, my heart clenching when I saw how torn the pale boy was.
Tears were pooling in his dark eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Without a word, I walked towards him, wrapping my good arm around his shoulders. His arms encircled me, pulling me into an embrace.
I rested my head on his chest, feeling defeated. "He could have taken me," I said to no one in particular. "Scott didn't have to go."
"Either way, I would have lost one of you," Stiles said, his voice quiet. "With my father..."
"Shh," I murmured, placing a finger on his lips. I removed my head from his chest to look up at him. He seemed to relax at my touch, and that comforted me.
The faint smell of smoke filled my nostrils, and I didn't even have to glance at my arm to know that it was starting to heal. It was a good sign, though the mistletoe still lived inside me.
I took another deep breath, thinking about what my next words to him should be. What could I say to him? He had just lost his father, his best friend, and his best friend's mother. This boy had next to nothing, and what had I done to fix that?
Nothing.
"I'm sorry," I finally whispered, brushing his cheek with my fingertips. "I'm sorry."
The words were futile; they had no meaning anymore thanks to humans who spoken them too many times. The words were overused, but I couldn't think of anything else to say to the broken boy. Stiles knew that I couldn't save everyone in this town, but the sad fact is, I was supposed to.
And all I could do was say meaningless words and hold him tight for fear that when the time comes... I may have to let go.
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OH MY ASDKFLSDJK FEELS *dies*
hope you guys enjoyed, this was a v v emotional chapter to write- be watching out for some more #biles action in the next chapter
I'm curious... what do you guys think is going to happen to blaise at the end of 3a????
love y'all, keep reading (and i'll try to update quicker lol)
-kati