The Chosen 🐺

Chapter Twenty-Four: Dress to Impress

The night had gone and the next day had begun. Scott was still under. Deaton had gotten me a chair so I could sit next to him while he was sleeping. I had only a few hours to reset as I was worrying about Scott, and I couldn't sleep much. My legs crossed over one another, my footing tapping the air, as I was just waiting for him to wake. Deaton was behind me, putting out supplies on another smaller metal table. I was minding my own business, when suddenly, Scott started to rise from the table, and stood on his feet.

"Scott!" I said in excitement, as I stood from the chair. He looked a bit dazed, but I placed a hand on his chest and one on his shoulder. He leaned against the table he was on moments ago, my hands still were on his body. My eyes scanned his face for a moment.

"Maybe you should sit down, huh?" Deaton had said, coming over to look at Scott for a moment. But before he could answer, the doorbell from the front shop had rang, alerting us someone was here.

"Hello?" Deaton asked, looking to the doorway that leads to the main desk. But no one answered, but the door had shut. He began to walk, but Scott reached out and stopped him from moving forward. He looked back at Scott for a moment, but smiled gently at him and touched his hand, ensuring he was safe.

"I'm sorry, but we're..." Deaton had walked through the door, but stopped for a moment to see who it was. "We're closed," he continued after a moment's pause. I lifted my hands from Scott and slowly went to the door, to listen.

"Hi there. I'm here to pick up," the man had said, so innocently put and I knew too well who that voice belonged to...

Peter...

"I'm not sure I remember you dropping off," Deaton had said.

"This one wandered in on its own," Peter had said, referring to Scott in this matter.

"Even if he did, I'm afraid I can't help you. We're closed," Deaton pushed back to Peter.

"Well, I think you can make an exception this one time. Don't you?" Peter asked, he really badly wanted Scott for some reason.

"I'm sorry. That's not going to be possible. Maybe you could come back during regular hours," Deaton was such a bad-ass to the Alpha. There was a moment's pause as Peter was doing something.

"You have something of mine," his voice was now threatening. "I'm here to collect it,"

"Like I said...'' Deaton's tone was now lowered, making him threatening too. "We're closed," I peered around the door frame just slightly. I see Peter try to open the gate to the back but he couldn't lay a finger on it. He tried again, but he couldn't hold it, his fingernails scrapped across the wood, before falling back at his side.

"Mountain ash," he said, as he looked back at Deaton, his face not impressed. "That's an old one," with anger, he picks up a waiting seat chair, and throws it across the gate. The chair hit the wall, making it break into pieces. Luckily, it didn't hit Deaton.

"Let me be as clear as possible. We. Are. Closed," he expressed firmly, making Peter wrap his black leather jacket around him, before turning around, and stopping at the door.

"There are others who can help me get what I want, Scott. More innocent and far more vulnerable," Peter had said in a mere whisper, so only Scott could hear, but I heard him too.

"Allison!" Scott had said aloud, making Peter walk out of the clinic. I sighed, I needed to go. I had a sort of date with Allison and Lydia today. I came from the wall, and went through the door going behind the gate, walking passed Deaton. But he stops me by grabbing my arm, making me look at him.

"Et qui adhibet medicamina scire pretium erit eam," he said simply, fluent in the language. At that moment, I knew what he just had said and it was too early to do anything right now. I titled my head at him, my expression full of confusion.