☆ 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗦 : what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?
After the death of her mother, 17 y/o Deena Salée rummage through her mother's things for answers. She dis...
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𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃protecting Deena from a deal created long before her time at the hands of Dahlia.
Things were better when the pack actively avoided her because of her father, not wanting to get on her bad side so they'd steer clear whenever she was nearby. Not avoid her because they were afraid to wake up knowing it could be their last day because of her. Only here out of respect for their alpha's who one happens to be sired by the person they hated. She was more of an outcast than she was yesterday.
All this death surrounding her world convinced Deena to reconsider Erik's offer and get the fuck out of town. Dahlia only wants her, so if she's gone then no one has to die. And if Erik tags along, and he will, he could be next.
Anyone could be next.
A light knock at the door lifted Deena's head buried between her knees pressed to her chest. "Figured you'd want a little something from home so I found a place. Maybe not as authentic but delicious enough. I know because I had one before deciding to get you one. Maybe it might help, maybe not." Erik entered her room handing her a plastic box of tart framboisé and a mango strawberry smoothie.
It was his attempt at comforting her after hearing what happened with Dahlia and her mother. Guilty he wasn't here to protect her like he wanted to.
Deena unraveled herself from her current position and took the pastry from his hands. She's touched he'd travel across town to discover a French Bakery and wait in a long juice line for her favorite smoothie flavor, and it warmed her heart. She could use something sweet, though it won't dull the numbing ache in her chest. It was as though she lost her mother again.
But she didn't understand him. Erik. He should be fearing for his life and restless he can't foresee her capabilities being born not to exist. Yet, here he was, sitting next to her. A big smile on his face, content, and whipped cream on his nose from taking a big bite of his tart.
"Why — why are you so nice to me? I mean, thank you for the kind gestures and being here for me, but why? I don't deserve it."
"Because," Erik brushed his fingers along hers, catching her fallen gaze. The way he looked at her brought chills and knew a different set of words were about to escape before he caught himself. His fingers retraced, poorly playing off his actions by tapping the space between them. "You do deserve it and I can provide it. You wouldn't turn down a buy one get one free would you?" A smirk tugged her lips. "None of this is your fault so stop feeling like it is. Besides, who will help the French girl around if everyone's too scared to approach her?"
