"Sorry, Lahey, but I'm more of a cat person."
Vera Pérez is no stranger to the supernatural. Growing up alongside the Hale family has kept her fairly well-informed about the creatures that lurk in the darkness. However, she didn't become one of thos...
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THE STORY STARTS with Vera dying.
She's trembling, scarcely aware of anything except the fiery pain emitting from her abdomen that spreads searing agony to the rest of her body. Blood is everywhere. It's on her hands from when she had instinctively put pressure on her wounds, soaking her shirt and causing it to stick to her skin, and pooling around her in a dark crimson puddle.
The lights above her flicker in and out of focus. They grow soft and then switch to a blinding, searing substance that makes her brain whirl in confusion. She doesn't remember when she'd collapsed, but now her head is resting against something cold and hard and it hurts, too. Her eyes blink blearily up at the ceiling as she tries to make sense of what's happening to her. It's like she no longer has control over her body. A silent scream keeps her mouth open, breaths shallow because each rattling inhale sends a fresh wave of anguish flooding through her body until she feels like she's drowning in it.
Vera knows that, if she's this far past crying or making any noise, two things are possible. The more optimistic one is that she's in shock.
The worse option — and one she fears is true — is that she's dying.
"Vera!" Derek's voice cries, sounding far away and distorted like he's shouting from underwater. Her ears don't seem to be working right. Where noises should be sharp and clear in the cavernous space they're in, she finds them nearly incomprehensible as they reverberate through her skull like shockwaves.
She winces as she's picked up off of the ground and cradled in someone's burly arms. The world swirls together and churns her gut, making her throbbing head bob forward as if trying to rid itself of the building nausea in her system. Another slow blink and she's staring up at Derek's slightly fuzzy face. Though she tries, she can't get him to stay in focus. His pale green eyes gaze down at her with concern and fear. The dark goatee lining his jaw is a mere shadow against his face, the details of his angular face unclear.
"Stay with me," he begs, shaking her slightly when her eyelids droop for a little too long. She can't help it; the urge to fall asleep is dragging her under its clutches. It's an irresistible pull that demands attention.
"Derek," Scott chokes out from somewhere behind him. Vera can't see the boy, but she's conscious enough to register the tightness in his tone like he's on the verge of either crying or going into a full-blown panic.
The Alpha ignores the Beta. One of his large, warm hands slips into her bloody palm and grips onto it tight enough to make her heave a strangled gasp at his werewolf strength. A few seconds tick by. Derek grunts as her agony transfers to him, granting her a few tranquil, blissful seconds where she can linger in the peaceful in-between state of being awake and asleep. It's almost nice. She could just close her eyes and drift off to a comforting slumber...
