Argentine | Stiles Stilinski (Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Visionary

I sighed, leaning against Stiles as we listened to Cora explain where Derek was. She described how he had found Derek on the run, hiding from hunters.

'They were there for two days. Waiting, hiding. That's what we're taught to do when the hunters find us, hide and heal,' Cora explained.

'Okay, so is two days standard then?' Stiles asked, 'Or are we thinking Derek's on, like, some extended getaway?'

Cora frowned, turning to face us, 'Why do you care?'

'Why do I care? Let's see, because over the last few weeks, my best friend and my girlfriend have tried to kill themselves, his boss nearly got ritually sacrificed, a girl that I've known since I was three was ritually sacrificed, Boyd was killed by Alphas... you want me to keep going? 'Cause I can, alright? For, like, an hour.'

'You think Derek can do anything about that?' she snapped, walking towards us.

'Well, since he's the one everyone seems to be after, it's more like he should do something about it. Yeah.'

She sighed, leaning against the table. 'I don't know. There's something different about him now, he wasn't like this when I knew him.'

I frowned, 'What was he like?'

We looked up, seeing Peter walk down the stairs. 'A lot like Scott, actually,' he answered thoughtfully, 'A lot like most teenagers. Unbearably romantic, profoundly narcissistic... tolerable really only to other teenagers.'

'And so what happened? What changed him?' I asked.

'Well, the same thing that changes a lot of young men... a girl.'

Stiles scoffed, 'You're telling me some girl broke his little heart? That's why Derek is the way he is?'

Peter turned to Cora, 'Do you remember Derek before he was an Alpha had blue eyes? Do you know why some wolves have blue eyes?'

Stiles shook his head, 'I just always thought it was, like, a genetic thing'

'If you want to know what changed Derek, you need to know what changed the colour of his eyes.'

Peter recounted the story of how Derek met Paige to us. Stiles frowned, 'Okay, so if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he? How old were you? How old are you know?'

'Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think.'I rolled my eyes at Peter's answer.

'Okay, that was frustratingly vague,' Stiles sighed and turned to Cora, 'How old are you?'

'I'm seventeen.'

He nodded, 'See? That's an answer, that's how we answer people.'

She smirked a little, 'Well, seventeen how you'd measure in years.'

His eyes widened in confusion and he looked at me, 'Please give me a straightforward answer.'

'Seventeen.'

He frowned, 'You're the same age as you're aunt?'

'Yeah, and Peter's my great-uncle. It's best not to ask questions,' I huffed, ignoring the exasperated look from Peter.

'Alright, I'm just gonna drop it. What happened to Derek and the cello girl?'

Peter scoffed, 'What do you think happened? They're teenagers. One minute, it's "I hate you, don't talk to me." The next, it's frantic groping in any dark corner they could manage to find themselves alone in for five minutes. Their favourite dark corner was an abandoned distillery outside of Beacon Hills, the same one that your parents used, actually,' he looked over at me and my eyes widened. That was the same place where my mother died.