METAMORPHOSIS • DEREK HALE [COMPLETED]

Chapter Eighteen

"Careful with that," Derek warned Scott as he found Derek's handgun lying on the bed.

Picking up the weapon, listening to the small metallic clicks, he looked at Derek, "I thought you didn't like guns." Derek held up a hand, and Scott returned it too him. "Does this have something to do with your eyes?"

"My eyes, my strength, the healing... All of it," he sighed.

"Gone," Scott asked.

"What ever Kate did to me, it's still happening."

Alex, sitting on the couch, wondering to herself about her father, perked up, their voices breaking her out of her thoughts. She walked over to the bed just as Derek set the gun back down.

Scott, anxious with his fast beating heart, began to say, "If the deadpool really was made by a Banshee, then there's something else that you should know about." Shaking his head, he nervously told him, "Your name broke the third list. It was a cipher key."

"And the other two keys were Allison and Aiden," Derek's stare faltered to the floor as Alex turned to him.

"And I, I don't want to make you nervous-"

"Too late," Alex interrupted, already feeling her heart rate rise.

"But it kind of feels like there might be a pattern there, doesn't it," Scott's uneasy eyes met theirs, "Aiden, Allison... You."

"Names picked by a banshee," Derek stated.

Alex couldn't understand why his voice sounded so calm. They all knew what being chosen by a banshee meant.

"It could mean that you're in danger," Scott hopefully added.

"Scott, banshees don't predict danger. They predict death."

**********

"Derek, please tell me you're more worried about this than I think you are," Alex said to him after Scott left for school. He had to prepare for a lacrosse team bonfire fueled by music and underage drinkers.

Derek sighed, but he couldn't meet her eyes. Pulling at her hand, he lead her back to the bed after she paced the loft again out of nervous habit. They settled on the bed, and she tucked her feet underneath her as his hung over the edge. His silence only confirmed her doubts.

"Derek..." She murmured, intertwining her fingers with his, resting it against his thigh.

"I'm worried, Alex, a lot. Trust me," he quietly reassured her, his thumb running along hers.

"But you're not surprised," she noticed.

As if she could read his mind, he shook his head, "I knew that after I was shot and didn't heal something wasn't right."

She knew that being chosen by a banshee could only mean one thing, yet she persisted to believe Derek wouldn't suffered the predicted fate. "We're going to figure this out."

When his eyes reached hers, he still felt doubtful, but he saw the determination in her gaze. She wasn't going to let him die.

She leaned in closer, her free hand moving up to cup his cheek. As his hand overlapped her's, she whispered, "Hey, you're going to be fine."

With a slight, confirming nod, their eyes locked before she slowly pressed her lips to his. The kiss was long, slow, and affection filled. His hands moved: one to hold the back of her neck, the other around her torso. Her remained on his face, keeping him close, afraid she might lose him.

Their lips parted, but their foreheads stayed resting against each other's. Alex bit her still tingling lips, and they slightly fell back. Knees bumping his thigh, she glanced away, her face turning pink, and her eyes caught her father's letter still laying on the bed near his gun.