Archive of Our Own

Paige couldn’t look him in the eyes for the first three days.

It had nothing to do with how he treated her, but with the way he looked.

She glanced over her shoulder to check if the others were watching before turning back to the river. To him.

Derek stood waist down in the cold water, washing the blood off. Thin rivulets caressed his tan skin, sliding down his sculpted torso. The river itself longed to wrap around him just for a taste of insurmountable beauty trapped inside his strong muscles.

She could still feel his shoulders moving under her palms as if it happened just a minute ago. When he took her in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her out of the burning hut she was locked in… Paige was doomed then.

She asked to stay, and Derek didn’t refuse. He said he was going somewhere with his pack. Not like Paige cared. She would travel to the world's end with him if he only asked.

“He’s not a talker,” Erica said once.

Paige didn’t need his words. His actions were enough.

He was a true alpha, the one the legends were made about. Each day, he provided them with a meal he found and killed with his bare hands. He helped them build shelter and led them away from the hunters. He saved their lives.

After bathing, Derek rubbed his face with water, making sure to clean the bits of animal flesh out of his beard, turned around, and trod the water back to the marge. Paige’s gaze slipped to his undergarments, translucent from the water and hanging low on his hips. They clung to him like a second skin, revealing everything there was about him.

Paige lowered her eyes, digging her toes into the sand. She swallowed repeatedly as the warmth kissed her cheeks. She did not dare look up until Derek passed her without any word.

Her nails dug into her palms.

“Dinner!” called Lydia.

Paige waited a bit, then pulled on her shoes, and went to sit with the pack.

Boyd was pulling skewers off the smoldering flames right onto the tray in Lydia’s hands. Erica was shoving the herbs into the teapot, frowning at it. She always had to have tea after dinner. It was a habit from her human past.

The atmosphere shifted as soon as Derek walked out of his tent. The pack members straightened their shoulders, unconsciously so, though did not look up. With slow heavy steps, Derek walked over to the fire and sat on the log. Lydia handed him the skewer.

Paige was the last to be served and the last allowed to bite into it.

“It’s good,” Derek muttered. It was one of the only things he said in the evenings.

Lydia exchanged glances with Boyd and lifted her chin. Satisfaction rolled off her in waves, and Erica even giggled a bit.

Perhaps, it was the rarity of his words that made the praise so special. It was a treasure for the wolves. Well, the wolves and whatever Lydia was. She wouldn’t tell Paige.

They told her the same thing: Derek saved them. That’s it.

When the dinner was done and Derek went to sit on the river bank — always alone, always frowning — Paige looked over at Erica.

It was just the two of them left near the bonfire. Erica was still sipping her tea, savoring every gulp.

“Do you know where we are going tomorrow?” asked Paige.

“We go wherever Derek leads us,” Erica drawled. She, like the others, didn’t really talk to Paige. It was fine — she was new, after all. They just needed time.

“Well, he goes somewhere, right?”

Something crackled behind Paige. She turned just in time to see Lydia step over the log with the now clean and empty teapot in her delicate hands.

“He searches for a mate,” she said.

Paige shuffled in place. She glanced over her shoulder to the river, where the silhouette of Derek’s broad shoulders stood darkly against the moonlit waves. Her heart skipped a beat.

“A mate?” she turned back to the women. “Like you and Boyd?”

“Yes,” answered Erica.

“There is a prophecy,” said Lydia. “About his mate. I granted it to him when he saved me. He said he didn’t need it but…” She shrugged and pushed her red hair behind her shoulders, then lifted her hand in a silent request. Erica placed her cup into Lydia’s hands without even looking.

A simple gesture that told so much.

Lydia took three sips before returning the cup to Erica, whose eyelids were drooping. Soon, Boyd would come to pick her up.

Paige glanced at Derek again, then back to the fire.

“What was the prophecy?” she asked.

“The skin as white as milk,” Lydia started. “The eyes as gold as amber. The only one to love, the only to remember.”

Erica snorted. “It’s so stupid.”

Lydia glared at her, then picked up some grass, and tossed it at the woman.

Erica kept laughing. “Are you sure it’s not a nursery rhyme you’ve heard somewhere?”

“Yes,” Lydia muttered. “What else was there? The only to remember…”

“The stars inside the skin, the fire in the soul—” Erica sang.

“The only one to have you, the only one you’ll own.” Lydia finished and sighed. “It is not the best serenade but sometimes it is that simple.”

Paige stared at the fire.

“Does he…” she cleared her throat. “Does he know who it is?”

Erica shrugged. “If he does, he did not tell us.”

“Doesn’t really matter.” Lydia picked up a log from behind her seat and put it inside the flame. “When I shared the prophecy, Derek just said that he knows. Whatever that means.”

Paige hugged her arms and put her chin on her knees. Her heart was but a wild bird in a cage. She couldn’t help but remember her mother pinching her cheeks and telling her how her birthmarks looked like stars in the skies.

Was that why Derek was there that fateful day? Why he saved her?

The skin as white as milk, the eyes as gold as amber.

It could be her. She fit.

Her back tensed when she heard the steps. Was it the instinct that told her he was close?

Derek walked past her to Erica and Lydia. He rubbed his hand lightly over their shoulders and walked to his tent.

Erica yawned. “He’s right, it’s late. Sweet dreams to you.”

“Sweet dreams,” mumbled Lydia.

They left her alone at the fire.

Paige felt it reflect in her soul.

Her hands shook as she tucked the four-petal cloverleaf into the front pocket of Derek’s doublet.

“For good luck,” she said, pushing a smile out of herself, and finally looked up.

Derek’s face didn’t change. He remained grim (though that seemed to be his normal expression) and did not say anything. His eyes, green, piercing, and so beautiful, cut right through Paige’s skin, leaving her bare for him to see.

Her cheeks flamed at the image.

Derek’s gaze did not let hers go. It trapped her, helpless but ready to give anything up.

“Alpha?”

Derek turned to Boyd. The man looked at both of them with disinterest and then motioned at the forest. “Gotta go.”

Derek nodded, and without a second glance at Paige, followed him.

Paige clenched her jaw as she heard Lydia sigh.

Somehow, it felt as if it was directed at her.

The next evening, Paige left the women sitting at the fire and joined Derek instead.

He looked surprised when she sat near him but, as per usual, did not utter a word.

“You don’t mind?” Paige asked softly.

Derek looked away. The glint of the moon caressed his eyes.

The heat came off his skin in waves, rolling over Paige and tugging her in. She wanted to say and ask so many things, but it didn’t feel right to cut the silence.

Instead, Paige smoothed the folds of her skirt and swallowed against a dry throat. She tried to see what he saw, in the moon and stars, but her thoughts inevitably returned to the man beside her.

What was he thinking about?

His mate?

It was a good sign he didn’t say anything, she decided. Even later, when he left without a word or an offer to help her stand up, it felt like a good sign.

How strong he must be, she thought as Derek pushed the elk off his shoulders. Its blood sank into the crevices on his neck and sleuthed down his bare chest only to get stuck in the dark hair. A thin glistening film of sweat coated his bulging muscles. He had blood on his beard. Probably from digging into the elk’s neck with his fangs.

Paige wanted him. Blood and all, she would clean it off him with her hands, bathe him, and lean his head on her chest. She would be his rest and his salvation. She was here, right next to him.

Why didn’t he see her? Why couldn’t he understand?

He didn’t have to travel anymore.

He had already found her.

Derek stared at the apple she left by his side, then looked up at her with a wary glance.

Paige smiled. “For you.”

Derek frowned, then looked down at the apple at his feet. He let out a low short hum and returned to whittling. It was a wolf, Paige realized. Derek was carving it out with his claws.

The next day, right as they were set out to leave, Paige frowned at the base of the tree where Derek sat yesterday.

The apple lay there, untouched.

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Derek, who was helping Lydia fold the tent.

He must have been tired. He just forgot.

“Who made it?”

He was talking to her. He was talking!

However, as soon as the words reached her mind, Paige’s smile wilted. She pulled the offered bowl of stew back.

“Uh, Boyd?” she said carefully. “It’s great.”

Derek inhaled deeply and took the bowl from her hands. He did not say a word more.

Paige clenched her teeth to keep her smile hidden.

“We are still traveling.”

Paige glanced up at Lydia. Her saccharine smile made Paige’s skin crawl.

“I know?” she frowned.

Lydia hummed. “And that doesn’t tell you something?”

Paige huffed and stood up. She was glad she was the same height as Lydia and could look her directly in her eyes.

“Say what you mean,” Paige bit out. “I don’t like games.”

Lydia’s lips stretched in a smile as if her reaction was the very thing she hoped for.

“You think we don’t see your little tricks?” Lydia sang sweetly and wiggled her fingers. “You are trying to court our alpha. Surely you realize that he does not reciprocate.”

“He doesn’t stop it.” There was no point in lying. She was courting Derek. She would be a fool not to.

“He doesn’t care to.” Lydia arched her thin eyebrow. “Why do you think he’s still searching, hmm? Why didn’t he stop once you were here?”

“Not everything is as simple as your rhymes.”

“You think you can annoy him into sleeping with you?” Lydia laughed. “He is a born wolf, darling. He will not fuck you if you are not his.”

The heat of the blush scalded Paige’s cheeks.

“Look into my eyes,” she said quietly, “and tell me I am not the one you sang about.”

Lydia tilted her head. “Hm. Your eyes are more cocoa than amber.”

Paige pushed past her, leaving the woman laughing at her back.

She was Derek’s mate, she could feel it in her heart. It wasn’t as simple and it wouldn’t be as quick, but Derek would see. He just needed to look.

Derek looked at her strangely as she sat near him at dinner. She lowered herself to his feet, with her shoulders barely touching his shins.

The wolves and Lydia stared at her as if she had lost her mind. Paige lifted her chin high and scooped up the stew.

She was about to put the spoon in her mouth when Derek suddenly growled. It was an unhuman noise, the one she or any other man would never be able to replicate. Guttural and harsh, it stopped her in her tracks.

Derek waited a moment for the order to stick, then took the first bite.

The pack relaxed.

Erica mumbled something resembling, “Stupid.”

Paige’s hand trembled for the remainder of the meal. The order sat over her, pinning her to the ground. Shame and desire pooled in her stomach, making the food taste like dust.

He wasn’t in a good mood that day. The pack was on edge. The storm delayed their travel for an entire day and had no intention of quieting down.

Derek wasn’t sleeping well. He wasn’t sleeping much at all, but when he did, the nightmares plagued him. Lying awake at night in her tent, Paige heard him turning and grunting as he woke up. Each time, she heard him storm away, the tent flapping behind him. He returned only by mornings, with shadows under his beautiful eyes.

Paige yearned to soothe him.

He had yet to take food from her hands. Lydia and Erica found it amusing and now, whenever Paige was about to bring him a plate, they did it themselves. They were quick to evade her burning glances and ran to their alpha like overexcited pups to offer him a meal.

Derek took the offerings with a single nod.

That day, he was pacing the tent for hours on end. His face was dark and half-shifted, which should’ve told Paige not to approach him, yet she refused to listen.

Derek needed gentleness. Someone needed to hug him, kiss him, calm his soul.

Paige clenched her fists and stood up.

Ignoring Lydia’s warning hum, she walked to Derek who stood near the tent’s entrance and glared at the pouring rain. If it wasn’t for the pack, he would’ve been long gone.

Her hand shook as she lifted it.

He shrugged it off before it could touch him.

“Sorry,” Paige whispered, her heart sinking.

Derek sent her a glare. How tall he was, towering over her, with his eyes not green now but red like blood. She scurried away, back into her corner.

Lydia shook her head.

“You are not the pack,” said Boyd. “You are not allowed the touch.”

“How…” Paige swallowed. Her gaze found Derek’s naked form, gliding through the smooth cover of the lake. “How does one become pack?”

“If he offers,” Boyd replied.

“When did he make you the offer?”

“The day we met.”

Was she not brave enough, was that it?

Paige moved the hair out of her face. The wind brought them back.

She clenched and unclenched her hands. Slowly, she went across the field to the edge of the pinewoods where Derek was making logs for the fire.

Paige’s heart jumped with every swing of his axe. His hands clenched it tightly. His breathing was hard and intimate.

She swallowed. She cleared her throat.

Derek ignored her.

“How can I become pack?”

The axe lodged into the wood, splitting it in half. Derek straightened and looked at her, his gaze studying.

“Why?” he grunted.

Paige licked her lips. His voice became precious to her, so much that it made her skin hot.

I want to touch you, she thought. I want you to want my touch.

“If that’s the way to belong to you,” she said instead, her voice louder than she intended and dry as parchment. "Then I wish it.”

Derek looked at her for a long time.

“Lydia needed guidance,” he said. “The one she could not disobey. Boyd needed a family. Erica needed the wolf. And Boyd.” He stared at her, watching her pale as the words sank in. “You have to want the pack. Not its alpha.”

He picked up the fallen logs, put them onto the pile, wrapped them up with a thread, and picked them up onto his shoulders. Paige felt the heat coming off his body. It failed to soothe the cold inside.

Without another glance, Derek walked past her back to the camp.

It was a slap on the face, a dismissal, a rejection. Was it deserved? Perhaps. But at least, she didn’t lie.

If only he would see.

Paige bit her lip, thinking.

He wouldn’t fuck you if you aren’t his.

What if he wanted that? She could submit to him if he wanted. Did she need to do it first? Offer herself like a pig at the sacrifice?

Paige watched as the wolf reached their little camp.

She would become a sacrifice. For him, she would become anything. He saved her life. Would it be that bad if he saved her soul, too?

It was the cicadas that kept her awake at night. Not the heat in her lower stomach, definitely not that.

Paige buried her face in her covers and closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking about the alpha sleeping several feet from her in the other tent.

His hands would be so warm wrapped around her. His breath on her neck, his lips—

Paige turned.

What would it be like, with him? Would he be rough? Silent like always? Or would he growl as he rutted deep inside?

Paige bit her lip so hard that it bled and shifted her thighs.

She hoped that Derek would be gentle. That he would hug her and kiss her, nice and soft. She hoped that he wouldn’t send her back to her tent once they were done. But, even if he did… Paige would do it.

Derek, Derek, Derek. The very name sweetened on her tongue.

She wondered if he was thinking about her the same way.

Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow, she would make a move. It was becoming unbearable.

Derek pushed them harder that day and further than they expected. He grew harsh during the past few days, waking them early and clenching his jaw when they asked for a break.

Still, he agreed, for the pack was everything to the wolf.

The women didn’t drink tea and went straight to bed. Paige glanced over the smoldering flames, over the empty logs and closed tents. Her soul trembled when her gaze found Derek.

The wolf was mending his tent, which got caught by the loose branch and tore. His frown was cute but his movements were nothing but precise and steady.

For the first time since the fire, Paige let her hair down. Silky smooth, they fell upon her slender shoulders in gentle waves. She fumbled with the top button of her dress, indecisive, before finally letting it loose. Just one, enough to entice.

Her stomach clenched as she walked to Derek, her steps careful but confident. Maybe, it was the others’ eyes that stopped him from giving in.

There was no one but the two of them tonight. Them, and the moon.

Derek didn’t react to her presence. Stitch, tug, turn, stitch, tug—

Paige lifted her hand and lowered it on Derek’s shoulder.

She yelped as he caught her hand in an iron grip.

“It’s me,” she cried out. “It’s just me, Derek.”

Her mouth dried as the red eyes turned on her.

“Don’t touch me,” said Derek in a quiet rumble.

Paige pushed down a hiss. His hold was brutal and his hand looked giant clenched around her thin pale wrist.

“I won’t,” Paige said quickly and gasped as he let go. She cupped her hand and pressed it to her bosom. Bitter tears trembled on her lids. “I just thought—”

She shut her mouth as Derek rose from the ground. He towered over her, his broad frame menacing in the dark.

Paige stumbled back, her heart trashing inside.

“I will not betray my mate,” he said in an acidic voice as if the very thought of it was repulsive. “I would not look at you were you to stand in front of me naked. If you touch me again—”

“I am your mate!” Paige’s voice cracked at the end.

They stared at one another.

“Why don’t you see?” Paige begged. Desperation cinched her throat. “You don’t have to search anymore.”

“See what?”

“Skin as white as—”

Derek sighed. His jaw clenched as he looked her in the eye, not even attempting to hide his frustration.

“It’s just a song,” he muttered. “Lydia didn’t tell me anything new. I know who my mate is.”

“Who?”

“Not you.”

Paige flinched back.

Derek glanced over at her, disinterested. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow we must enter the town.”

He sat down, picked up his tent, and did not acknowledge her again.

“What’s with your face?” Erica cringed her nose as she stared at her.

Paige turned away. “Nothing,” she rasped.

“Told you those berries looked funny,” Lydia noticed as she walked closer and leaned over Erica’s shoulder to stare at Paige. “I can make you butterbur salve if you want to.”

“No. I don’t need anything. It shall pass.”

The women exchanged glances and shrugged, leaving her alone. Despite having washed her face twice in the icy water of the nearby stream, Paige’s face was still red and puffy. She was sick of the taste of salt on her lips.

It shall pass, she repeated to herself.

Derek did not look at her that morning. Not even once.

“Three more hours.”

“No.”

“Three.”

Erica exploded. “We cannot keep up this pace! We have been walking for an entire day, you cannot herd us like sheep anymore!”

Derek flashed his eyes, but it only spurred her on.

“Look at Lydia’s feet!” she waved at the redhead. “You are hurting her! And you are not the one who would have to listen to her whining—”

“Hey!” Lydia pouted, though her face was tense from the pain.

“How is this town different from others?” asked Boyd helplessly. “We don’t need beds, we are fine with what we have.”

Derek turned away from them and began pacing. His hands locked behind his head, clenching into fists.

“Is your mate there?” asked Lydia, suddenly gentle.

The muscles in Derek’s jaw bulged. He did not look at them as he muttered in a rough voice, “It was our home. If he’s not there—” he choked and turned away.

The pack members looked at each other.

“Go,” said Boyd. Derek glanced at him. “None of us are children. We shall wait for you here. Just come back to us.”

Derek looked over the three of them, conflicted. The pack held him here, but the promise of the mate must have felt like an agony and a dream. As the seconds went by, the determination swept over the alpha’s face.

The wolf straightened his shoulders, walked over to Boyd, and placed his hand on the back of his neck.

“If something happens—”

“Can we not do this?” Erica whined.

“— you are going to inherit the alpha spark,” Derek finished, ignoring her. He waited until Boyd nodded with a grim set to his mouth and released his neck. “Howl if you need me.”

“You, too,” Lydia arched her eyebrows in a challenge. “I will run if I need to.”

Derek nodded.

None of them remembered Paige’s presence or saw her eyes shifting from one to another. Her heart, bleeding and raw, stuttered at the determined look on her beloved’s face.

“I’ll go with you.”

The wolves turned to her.

Erica looked surprised, Boyd did not move a muscle, and Lydia narrowed her eyes and only that.

Derek watched her for a couple of moments, then nodded.

Blood soaked through her shoes. Her very bones were tired. She could barely see before her, and only the sight of Derek’s strong figure made her steps easier.

She did say she would walk to the end of the world with him.

Step by step, in the cold night, under the stars, in tall grass that cut her shins and stained her skirt green.

Despite everything, she would follow him.

I love you, her breath sang, ripped out of her lungs.

Derek didn’t turn.

They entered Beacon Hills by midnight.

It was a surprise to see it lit with sunshine.

But what else could it be? Far above them, a few miles above the trees, was the sun. Its warmth seeped into Paige’s flesh, thawing her muscles until she felt the ache from the long road. The light of it shined through the trees, casting lines beneath their feet.

Derek walked faster.

The face of the stranger grew pallid at the sight of him.

“You are alive,” he breathed.

Derek’s hands were trembling, barely so, against the doorframe. “Where is he?”

The man swallowed. Tears welled in his eyes as his glance ran all over Derek’s face. “We thought you were dead.”

“Where?” Derek grit out.

The man shut his mouth. Pity, devastation, and sorrow took over the surprise.

Derek’s claws dug into the wood. “Don’t—” his whisper broke. “He can’t be—”

“We do not know if he is alive or dead,” said the man. His brown eyes were filled with grief. It was nowhere near the agony in Derek’s voice, but it was there. “When they took you, when we saw the amount of blood, we thought… We thought there was no way you survived.”

“I did so, barely, McCall,” Derek snarled. “You think I would allow—”

“He couldn’t live with it,” the man pushed back. “He mourned you.”

“Where is he?”

McCall shut his mouth, looked at Derek’s tormented face, and lifted his head.

Derek and Paige followed his gaze and froze as they stared at the sun.

Derek’s house was right below it. Blackened and fragile, it looked like it would fall from a single breath. The roof was gone, incinerated all around. It looked untouched. Perhaps, because no one dared to.

It was a grave and a sacrificial ground.

Paige didn’t dare go in. She sat, curled up, on the porch, smudging her cheek with the soot on the doorframe.

Derek squinted at the sun. Or, rather, a flaming sphere, full of rage and the heat of a lost love.

The nearby houses were abandoned. The ground was yellow and shriveled, dry as sand. The air was sweltering, asphyxiating like grief.

But Derek wouldn’t leave, so Paige wouldn’t either.

She felt like if she tried to talk about his mate being gone, Derek would tear her to shreds. So she said nothing. Derek didn’t notice her either way.

He paced like a rabid wolf in a cage. He looked up from time to time with a painful bitter smile stretching his lips. His voice was raw from screaming.

Nothing helped.

Paige’s eyelids drooped. Life in this place must have been hell: the constant heat and sun all day and night, without a cloud to hide under. She would have gone insane. Even right now it was so bad she wanted to—

Her heart clenched. She looked up at Derek and bit her cracked lips.

If she would tell him, he would be gone. She would never know what his lips tasted like.

But then, again, wasn’t he gone already? Slipped from her hands before she could feel the weight of his head on her chest.

His agony was her agony.

“You must howl.”

Derek heard her voice, barely above a breath. He swiveled and stared at her as if he forgot she was there.

“What?” he rasped.

Paige licked her lips. “You always say: howl if you need me. Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.”

Derek shifted his gaze back to the sphere. His face grew stern. He took a couple of long breaths, then pulled his head back and howled.

Paige slapped her hands on her ears, flinching from the sound. Tremendous and demanding, it resonated deep inside her meek human body. The vibrations went through her, shaking her very core.

The sun shuddered.

As the last notes of Derek’s call quietened, the globe started to crackle. They could not see a thing, for the sphere was blinding. They could hear, though, the deep sharp cuts pushing the stone apart.

After a few moments, the crackling stopped. The sun blinked, once, twice, growing red, then tangerine orange, until finally becoming yellow-white like incandescent gold.

And then, it started falling.

Paige stood up. Her feet stumbled back, sending her falling from the porch onto the scorched grass.

As the sphere got closer, it started to fall apart. Piece by piece, the sphere popped and sizzled. Small pieces of molten light chipped off the globe and careered to the ground, until, at last, nothing remained of the sun’s shell.

It was hollow inside, but not empty. There, covered in a loving embrace of a roaring fire, was the lone glowing figure of a man. Akin to an abandoned puppet, he plummeted straight for the hard, uncaring ground.

Derek’s roar full of raging despair shook the naked trees. In one giant leap, he was on the edge of the roof. It crumbled beneath his weight, but the wolf was already flying through the air.

He caught the man mid-fall, changing the trajectory of their now-joined descent. A moment later, they crashed into the ground, rolling over each other and leaving blackened soot in their wake.

For a blistering moment, everything was quiet.

Then, someone groaned.

“Derek,” Paige whispered with her heart in her throat.

If he died… if he burned because of his so-called mate…

Derek hissed as he pushed up on his elbows. Half of his face was raw and scraped, blood dripped into his eyes from the gash on his forehead.

He looked like he did not feel a thing.

Rasping and groaning, he tugged himself to the shining body lying a couple of feet from him. Now that the man was cooling with steam coming off his skin, the surroundings became swallowed by the blessed dark.

It allowed Paige to take a closer look, and once she did, she could not stifle a gasp.

The man was covered in dry desert plaques the size of a palm each. Between the cracks, the firestorm consumed what was left of the flesh. He was the sun — the living, breathing flame.

“You’ve gone too far, my love,” said Derek. He leaned so close to the man that his face reddened. Despite the heat and the searing flesh, the wolf looked at him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. “It’s time to stop. Let go.”

And then Paige realized that the man’s eyes were open because, in the next moment, he blinked.

He opened his mouth only for the sparks to leave his cracked flaming lips with a sigh.

Derek gulped down a laugh as if he understood. “Yes, I’m here. Come back to me. It’s enough.”

Another sigh and crackle of the lips.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Derek and the man lay on the blackening ground, lit only by the man’s glow. Face to face, gazing at each other. But then, the flame started reddening.

Bit by bit, he started to cool.

His flesh turned red, then pink, then paled into white. The dry plaques sank into the skin and melted together. He had hair. He had birthmarks, dozens of them upon his strong but tired body.

Derek lay next to him, murmuring praise and encouragement. He uttered words of such love that one would not believe it was his lips they fell from.

All those nights, Paige thought, curled behind the tree, all that time when you sat silent and alone at night… You dreamed of him.

They said a wolf could love only once. All that love, heavily sweet and demanding, tremendous and roaring, was a burden for only one soul.

I could bear it, Paige thought in trembling desperation. The salt burned her lips. I am strong enough. I would carry the world if you asked.

Paige turned away at the first touch of Derek’s fingers upon the man’s cheek. She pushed down sobs, gulping them with her own naivety. Silently, she stood up on shaky bloody legs and left.

They arrived early in the morning, bringing dew on their feet and smiles on their faces. The man apologized profusely for his lack of breeches (Derek gave him his shirt which barely went past his thighs) but no one seemed to care. The pack greeted him, a complete stranger, with hugs, grins, and promises of the future.

His name was Stiles.

His skin, as white as milk, had beauty marks. They splattered nicely along his cheek. His smile was bright, and his eyes glowed like amber. Would they ever cool down? He said he did not know.

Derek was smiling.

Paige had never seen him smile before. Not a little bit, not even in a cold and dark way of a victorious predator. He took Paige’s breath away. Her heart, her lungs, her churning stomach, and her damned soul — he took it all.

His hands remained wrapped around Stiles’ shoulders. Derek kept Stiles tucked to his side, nuzzled his hair, and pressed his lips to his temple. Where Stiles’ eyes were smoldering, Derek’s were shining.

It was ‘my Stiles’ and ‘our pack’.

Paige wondered if Stiles would make her a sphere to burn in if she asked.

The dinner was a bright event. Stiles lit up the flames with a snap of his fingers much to the delight of the girls.

He sat on Derek’s lap for they were unable to separate. Derek stopped talking once again; his gaze caressed Stiles’ face, gracing it with all the tenderness he was capable of giving. He closed his eyes only when he hid his face in Stiles’ neck, his chest rising and falling with deep, greedy, longing breaths.

They talked little about the past and a lot about the future. Stiles seemed to be their old friend rather than a stranger — so smooth was the conversation and joyful was the shared laughter.

The food was nothing but ash in Paige’s mouth.

What was she doing here? She did not care for a single one of them except for Derek. They certainly did not care for her. She was not the pack, and she would never be.

Why did you save me, Paige questioned as she watched Derek’s hand rub the inside of Stiles’ thigh. The gesture was so familiar as if he had done it thousands of times before. Why did you pull me out of the fire just to throw me into the pits of hell?

But Derek didn’t do that, did he? He simply saved her. He did not ask her to follow him or love him. Paige simply did.

It was a burst of laughter that forced her out of her thoughts. She looked up just in time to see Stiles going red. Laughing (and oh, how beautiful he looked), Derek pulled Stiles to his feet and tugged him by the hand to his tent.

“I’d say sleep well but we know you wouldn’t!” Erica hollered and the three of them laughed.

That night, it was Paige who sat alone, in the endless field of tall grass. It cut her skin as she walked and walked, further and further away from them. When the last bits of strength left her, she shuddered and fell to the ground, curled up like a child, and let the ground sway her to sleep.

“Get up. Come on. There you go.”

Someone pulled her to her feet. The stars swayed across the sky as her vision settled. Hands, thin and soft, grasped her dirty ones and tugged. Their hold was strong, unforgiving.

“I shall ask Erica to make you tea. No refusals this time.”

The sea of red was in front of her, smelling strongly of tangy berry leaves.

Paige didn’t say a thing. She doubted that she could. Her voice was gone, stifled like a flame. If it were to utter any word, it would be I love you to the one who did not wish to hear it.

Lydia let her go as they entered the camp and went to Erica and Boyd’s tent to steal the teapot. The logs had long since gone cold. How did she even know where to search for her?

Muttering, Lydia went out of the tent with the teapot, glanced at Paige minutely, and walked off to the edge of the forest where the wild raspberry grew.

Paige watched her disappear into the woods. How did she know where to go in such darkness as this? How was she not afraid of the beasts waiting for her to wander in?

Perhaps, Derek was right. She wouldn’t be a good packmate, for she found out that she did not care what would happen to Lydia.

Derek.

Paige glanced at his tent.

One look at him, perhaps? Just one more time to watch him breathe in his sleep before she would be gone.

Paige glanced at the forest and found it still. She inhaled a couple of times, taking the bravery from the wind, and walked up to the tent on silent feet.

The flap opened at her will. Her heart stuttered three times before she tore herself away and ran.

A tangle of bodies, glistening from sweat. They moved in tandem, again and again, intimate and close. Spread thighs and nails digging into the skin. Slick tongues and red lips, unable to separate just for a moment to breathe.

Derek’s hips rolled before slamming in, deep and hard. Punching moans out of the other man just to catch them with his lips.

He was gentle and he was rough. All at once somehow, longing and giving, passionate and tender. Derek gave it all, he gave everything to him.

They did not notice her or didn’t care to. Their eyes were only on each other, their whispers meant for the space between them. Another roll of the hips before Derek thrust in, pushing deep, forcing both of them to slide up on the bed.

He looked magnificent when he loved.

Sobs shook her frame, painful and heavy. She cried and wondered where the tears came from for she was dry as a barren earth.

“It was not for you to see,” Lydia said quietly.

“Stupid girl.” Erica grabbed her face and wiped her cheeks.

Both of them took her off the ground, one pair of hands on each arm, and led her to the river. They trod water with her, their toes sinking into the soft floor. The tangle caressed their ankles in sorrow and understanding.

The women took her weak frame and pushed her under the water once, twice, until she came up with a hungry gasp, remembering what life was.

“Would he be mine?” she cried as the stars stared at her pain. “In another life, would he love me?”

Lydia scooped up fresh icy water in her palm and washed Paige’s face. “No. Some souls are too entwined for others to stand between them.”

They stayed with her as she wept, holding her close to their chests like mothers would hold a child. She cried and cried until her tears became fresh like water.

With his hands wrapped tightly around his mate, Derek slept. His cheek was pressed to Stiles’ stomach, his mouth slightly open. He had never looked so young and relaxed.

“He’s dead to the world,” Erica smirked, pushing the red coals with a stick. The teapot was on its way to bubbling.

“Mm, let him be,” Stiles smiled up at her. His hands caressed Derek’s hair, another wrapped around his shoulders. They lay on the grass, in the shadow of an oak where they hid from the sunlight. The oak wasn’t there this morning — Stiles created it just to let Derek sleep outside with him in the sun. “He had a long night.”

Boyd snorted.

“Don’t,” Stiles hissed at him; his lips stretched against his will. “If you laugh, I laugh and then he’ll wake up.”

“I don’t think he is capable of moving,” Erica muttered, arching her eyebrows.

Derek frowned then, and Stiles quickly shushed him. He stroked Derek’s cheekbone, softly and reverently, before covering his eyes with his palm to provide darkness.

“So, where do you think we will stay?” asked Lydia from her spot opposite them. She was weaving a basket.

The three of them looked up at Stiles who didn’t blink an eye at their attention. It seemed like the role of the alpha’s mate was nothing new to him.

“We’ll see,” he sighed. “Beacon Hills would rather see me dead than present. We could travel a bit if you do not mind.”

Lydia’s eyes lit up. She went on a tangent about all the places she wanted to visit and the magic monuments they needed to go to.

Paige walked past them as quietly as she could. She let a single glance fall upon the alpha, but it was enough for the wolf’s mate to catch it.

Paige did not flinch as they met eyes. Was it the first time they did so? Did anyone even tell him her name?

Paige lowered her eyes and hid in her tent.

The talk of the future was somewhere far, far from her.

She didn’t think Derek would care about her departure, let alone notice it.

Paige never expected to see him, though.

She would be lying if she said Stiles wasn’t handsome. Those cheekbones, his big bright shining eyes full of gold, and his mischievous smile — he was a sight to see. He was slender, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. His cheeks were pink and his hair was tussled. He looked freshly fucked.

“What, not even a goodbye?” his voice was light.

Paige looked around his shoulder to see if anyone followed him to the forest’s edge, but he was alone.

She tightened her jaw as she looked back into his eyes.

“Do not tell me you care for it,” she said.

Stiles arched his eyebrows. “Why would I lie?”

“What do you want?” she snapped. “He’s yours, all yours. It’s all he ever was. I am going away, what more could you want from me?”

“Oh, nothing. Although, I must admit it was annoying to catch you staring at my mate so often.” Stiles cringed his nose and drummed his long fingers against a tree. “I am not jealous, for his heart is in my hands, but…” he shrugged.

“Is that all?” Paige’s voice shook near the end. It did not break, which she was proud of.

Something glinted in Stiles’ eyes. Something deep and mournful. Something very close to sympathy.

“I do not think,” he started quietly, without any taunt in his tone, “that there is another person alive who can understand you as much as I do.”

Paige chuckled darkly. “You do not—”

“I know what it is like to lose him.” Stiles watched as the words sank in and sighed. “It’s devastating, right? His absence. Derek does that to you, you know? Bursts into your life in all his beauty, saves you, loves you until you cannot imagine breathing without him, and then… he’s gone.”

Paige turned away, swallowing tears that wouldn’t come. She cried it all out. There was nothing left.

“Hunters took him from our home,” said Stiles solemnly. “I wasn’t there. He nearly died, but they still couldn’t keep him for long. They managed to get far, though…” he frowned. “Really far. He had been traveling for close to a year when you met him. All I’m saying is… I know he couldn’t have been gentle with you. Though, he usually is,” he smiled to himself, a soft and tender thing. “But he has been through a lot. He was not in his right mind, not his normal self all this time. I do not know how he acquired a pack, but that’s Derek for you. So, if you were kind to him, thank you. Do not hold any anger at him.”

“I don’t.”

Stiles tilted his head. His voice went quiet. “I can make you forget him.”

Paige scoffed. “Did you wish to forget him? When you were up in those flames?”

Stiles’ face went grim. “No. I… He was all I could think about. Every second of my time there belonged to him.”

They went quiet for a moment. Stiles tapped his finger again. The pink blush had long since disappeared from his skin, though that couldn’t be said for the scent of sex coming off him in waves. Nor for the mating bite, red and deep at the base of his neck, right next to the other bitemarks.

Paige hated him suddenly, viciously. She envied him, and that was somehow worse.

“I wish he were mine,” she whispered in the moment of weakness.

Stiles’ face was impossible to read. His emotions seemed to be carefully guarded, so the others would see only what he let them. The only time he couldn’t hold them back was when he was with Derek.

“I will take care of him,” said Stiles, his voice as light as in the beginning. “I will make sure he’s happy.”

Paige knew dismissal when she heard one. She swallowed her pride that she wanted to spit in his face, turned around, and walked off into the woods.

Deeper and deeper, until she couldn’t see the rising sun anymore.

She couldn’t stand its warmth.