The Longer I Live

Chapter 11: Man, Nothing Gets By Those Keen Wolf Senses

Dust clouds kicked up in the air while dirt, debris, and grass flew everywhere. Faster than lightning, the Spirit Wolf accelerated at superhuman speed racing through the dense forest knocking down branches, tearing through bushes, and leaping across fallen tree trunks as he raced toward his destination. Up above the constellations, the full moon shined bright providing an illuminated path for the supernatural creature whose mind began to wander elsewhere.

Even in the shell of his gray and white wolf form, Derek's human side still existed within the casing. His thoughts immediately centered on Stiles, who was counting on him to rescue his sister. He thought of nothing else. Something in the young man's presence affected him in a strange way. He could not put a finger on it. Sure, he admitted he felt a strong attraction toward the boy, but the connection was much deeper than mere appearances alone. The Spirit Wolf could not explain it. Derek Hale should not be having these feelings toward the lad for many reasons.

For one thing, Stiles Argent was too skinny for his taste. Would it kill the youngster to eat a burger or two? Second, his jokingly sense of humor and biting wit annoyed him at times. The teen's sarcasm could be obnoxious and there have been times when he wanted to bash his head in just for being annoying. Third, the boy was illegal. Even if Derek submitted to his primal urges, his participation in the corruption of a minor might land him in prison for eight to twenty years. It would be difficult to explain his immortality while behind bars. Lastly, he needed to resist the male siren. Everything about Stiles intrigued him from his boyish, innocent good looks to the way he bit his lip when he got nervous. The lad was simply too enticing to resist. Damn him!

Shaking his wolf head, Derek dug his large paws into the dirt as he came across the edge of the cliff that overlooked the main road to the forest of Beacon Hills. Golden eyes enhanced his vision as he peered in close and recognized the Honda Civic that Stiles normally drove to the reservation. Pricking up his ears, his heightened auditory senses listened closely to the pair of females laughing inside the car. Instantly, he knew that the driver was Allison Argent, Stile's sister.

Tossing her head back against the driver's seat, Allison giggled in response to Lydia's comment about the cheerleaders of their rival school.

"Can you believe that their head cheerleader still thinks bell bottom jeans are still fashionable?" Lydia snorted. "Someone really needs to call the fashion police!"

"Or Joan Rivers," grinned Allison while turning down the road.

"Honey," Lydia attempted to do the comedienne's raspy impression. "It's good thing you're wearing those. It's a great place to fold them and hide your diet pills!"

"Screw the diet pills!" Her partner in crime retorted. "Use them as ready-made barf bag for all bulimics out there!"

The girls broke out into fits of laughter. Allison wiped away the joyous tears from her eyes.

"I'm so glad you've decided to come along with me to this party, Lydia." She said. "I know it's been hard time for you with Jackson gone."

Lydia reapplied her lip liner with her compact. "I sooo needed this. I didn't want to grieve forever. Jackson would have wanted me to continue living."

"Good for you," Allison stated. "That's the spirit. Now let's party."

She turned the Honda Civic toward a secluded section of trees. Seeing a bright glow up ahead, the popular teen knew that she arrived at the right destination. Parking the car near large group of willow trees, Allison and Lydia got out and walked over to the center of the bonfire. Stacks of wooden crates and firewood were piled high for kindle as the flames rose even higher into the air. Looking around, both girls noticed no one in attendance.