Connection

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The sound of Stiles' jeep alerted Derek to the human's arrival. He'd half expected Stiles to back out but he seemed eager to learn.

"Why are we letting him practice his magic again?" Isaac asked. He must have heard the jeep as well.

"He can be useful against Deucalion's pack when they attack," Derek answered, not looking up from the book in his hands.

"When is that gonna be again?" It's been days since they 'threatened' us," Erica piped in then, her arms crossed.

"I don't know," Derek huffed. He would admit he was getting impatient as well. It made him nervous to think that they were taking their time.

Derek heard the way Stiles' heart picked up as he knocked. Stiles wasn't scared of being alone and surrounded by werewolves, though he probably should have been. Yet his anxiety had been peaking around him and his pack lately. He assumed it had to do with the obvious tension between Derek and Scott.

Isaac let Stiles in. He looked extra tired today. His unkempt hair looked as though he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly. His eyes looked as though he had hardly slept.

"Rough night?" Derek raised a brow at the human.

"You could say that," Stiles shrugged. He'd spent hours trying to find a way to get rid of the emissary mark only to find out from Bonnie there was no way to get rid of it. He was destined to be Derek's emissary, and nothing could change that. To say Stiles hadn't taken the news well was an understatement. His right hand still ached from punching the top of his desk. In fact, he could barely open his hand.

"You want to talk about it?" Isaac asked gently.

Stiles frowned at the cinnamon haired werewolf, "Not really, no."

Isaac nodded but didn't say anything more.

"Where's Boyd, I figured he'd be here too," Stiles had noticed him being gone more.

"He's been doing perimeter checks for me. He should be back soon. Why?" Derek closed his book and set it aside.

"He's stalling," Erica answered for him.

Derek gave Stiles a questioning look, as if to ask if she was right.

"There's a chance it may not work as well on someone who isn't..." Stiles trailed off.

"Who isn't what?" Derek pressed.

Stiles swallowed. Bonnie had told him that since Derek was his fated emissary, Stiles' magic would be more receptive to him.

"Someone who isn't an alpha," Stiles answered. That wasn't technically a lie.

"Good, then the practice will be good for you," Derek nodded.

Stiles seemed to relax. He'd been afraid Derek would figure it out.

"Is it gonna hurt?" Erica asked, almost nervously.

"Not at all."

"Okay so what do we do?"

"Just take my hands," Stiles held them out to the anxious blonde.

She glanced at Derek who gave an encouraging nod.

She hesitantly reached out and placed her hands in Stiles'.

Suddenly Stiles' felt relief flood him.

"Stiles, you're hurting," Erica gasped, her hands pulling back in surprise. Her veins black from the pain she'd pulled from Stiles.

"What's wrong?" Derek stepped forward.

"It's just my hand," Stiles answered dismissively.

The alpha reached for Stiles' hand then, and instantly the pain slithered up his arm.

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