Clairsentience ➳ Derek Hale/Teen Wolf [2]

3. declaring war

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any parts of Teen Wolf or its plot or characters. I do not own Derek Hale. However I do own Skylar McCall and some of the things that come along with her plot (Like Harv & Kelly's, etc.).

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     "She ate the liver?" Scott asks, his tone laced with just as much disgust as I feel in the pit of my stomach. The three of us walk along the sidewalk leading to the front doors of the school. I feel super exposed walking on the leg that's supposed to be practically mangled—I'm not bothering to fake my injuries here. Stiles managed to listen in on yet another one of his father's private calls, where he spoke to another officer about a grave robbery at the local cemetery. Instead of taking jewelry or other things of value, the burglar took the individual's liver. They think it was Lydia, and since we currently have no other suspects, I can't disagree with them.

"I didn't say she ate it. I just said it was missing," Stiles clarifies, defending the girl he loves. "Even if she did, so what? It's the most nutritious part of the body."

"Hopefully I don't eat anyone's liver," I mutter under my breath, thinking about the full moon in a few short days.

"You're not going to." Scott rolls his eyes. "I never did."

"Yeah, cause when it comes to werewolves you're a real model of self-control," Stiles retorts, suddenly stopping with a look of realization. "You're the test case for this so we should be going over what happened to you. What was going through your mind when you were turning? What were you drawn to?"

"Allison."

Do I feel more drawn to Derek than usual? I feel drawn to him, of course, but I'm not sure it could even get any more intense than it already was before I received the bite. I can't imagine wanting him any more than I already do.

"Nothing else? Seriously?" Stiles sighs in frustration.

"Nothing else mattered." Scott shrugs. "That's good for you, Stiles. The night that Lydia got bit she was with you."

"Yeah, but she was looking for Jackson," he says bitterly.

"Your big date might've been a fail but at least you didn't spend the night in a grimy basement getting beaten half to death," I offer optimistically, and Stiles shrugs, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

The word date rings through my mind, and images of that night flood back to me. I had a date as well. Guilt pools in my chest as I realize Isaac must think I ditched him.

Without offering an explanation to either of the boys, I leave them, practically sprinting down the hallway. Isaac's golden locks stand out among the rest of the teens crowding the hallway and in seconds I'm in front of him, leaning against the locker next to his own. He doesn't look at me, but I can practically feel the frustration radiating off of him.