f o u r

WHEN SHE FINALLY came to, Astrid found herself lying on the concrete ground of Derek's loft.

Agonizing pain flared in her forearms as the shudder of an aftershock ran through her body. From the ache in her bones, she could tell that she'd been slammed against the ground several times before finally gaining consciousness.

A metallic scent could be found in the air, lingering dangerously in each crevice of her mind. Though, one look at the bone sticking out of her arm and multiple cuts on her skin gave her relief.

The blood was hers.

She could feel her head clear at the thought. If being seriously hurt meant no one had been killed, then so be it.

As her surroundings sharpened, Astrid looked from left to right with weary eyes. It took awhile, but she came face to face with Isaac.

It wasn't until after she saw his piercing yellow eyes that she realized how bad her situation had become in the few hours she'd lost control.

Two of his hands were pinning her arms to the ground, claws extended from each of his fingernails. She could feel her skin and muscles strain, trying to heal through the intrusion of his sharp claws.

Behind him, Derek and Peter stood side-by-side with their claws out and ready. Even Peter, who looked downright bored, showed a hint of concern in his eyes.
She must have taken quite a hit to snap back to her human form.

"See," Peter said slowly, rolling his eyes, "she's fine."

Cautiously, Isaac released her and backed up. "Yeah, but I'm not."

Astrid took in his appearance after hearing his words, seeing nasty claw marks go from his shoulder to his chest. His white shirt was nearly non-existent, the fabric dangling off his shoulders in pathetic strands.

"Did I...?" Her eyes widened in horror.

"That doesn't matter," Derek dismissed, gesturing to his loft. All the furniture had either been turned over, or broken. Claw marks and strange holes decorated the walls and floors. "You two are in charge of cleaning this up."

"But-" Astrid protested, just as Isaac spoke:

"She-"

"Enough." Derek's alpha voice shut the two up immediately, despite Astrid not being a part of his pack. "Peter doesn't know where Arielle is, so we'll have to find out another way."

Astrid huffed, thinking of the time they had already wasted.

Cringing, she grabbed her broken arm tightly. After taking in a deep breath to prepare herself, she bent her dangling arm backwards, snapping the bone back in place.

The three werewolves cringed at the sight, leaning away slightly at the squelch of flesh and crack of bone. Isaac shuddered dramatically, making a face in disgust.

Then slowly, her face tight with pain, she pushed herself off the cold ground, using the wall for support. She tried her best to ignore her ringing ears, or the bright moonlight, or her rapid breaths. The full moon shouldn't be a major concern, as long as she focuses on what's important,

They had to make up a plan and take action soon, before time ran out. There couldn't be any more setbacks.

"What about the sheriff?" Astrid remembered Isaac bringing him and his son up before Peter made his presence known. Apparently Stilinski could help them search Jacob Driscoll's whereabouts, if he's still alive. One problem though: "Doesn't he hate you, Derek?"

She thought back to when she first arrived, to the alarm in Stilinski's eyes when he saw Derek appear behind her. He clearly saw the alpha as a threat; his hand had almost immediately hovered over the bulge at the waistband of his jeans.

"His son, Stiles, can help," Isaac assured her, pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "He's best friends with Scott, another werewolf here."

She was glad that everyone decided to act like nothing had happened; it was embarrassing enough to lose control on a full moon, now she'll be remembered as the weakest werewolf-born ever.

Her wounds had already healed to an extent. "Let's go, then."

"And... That's my cue to leave."

Peter turned and stalked towards the door, delicately stepping over broken furniture and floorboards. He evidently stayed longer than he had planned.

After a slight hesitation, he turned in front of the door and gave them a small salute. His eyes locked with hers, holding an emotion she couldn't describe. Then, he was gone.

"We can't," Derek eventually answered, watching the door slam shut with a sigh. Either he didn't see the weird exchange, or he didn't care enough to acknowledge it. "Isaac and I need to lay low. I've already been seen out in public yesterday."

He used a hand to push his torn couch upright, then picked up an empty picture frame from the ground. After dusting the broken glass on the ground, he set it down on the coffee table with a frown. She never realized how troubled he was until now.

"Why? What's happening?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyelids squeezed shut in annoyance.

"Peter says the Alpha Pack is here for a reason," Isaac explained instead, ruffling his curly hair. "They want to recruit Derek in their pack."

Astrid threw her arms up in the air, wanting to scream in exasperation. "Then, what the hell can we do? We've already wasted a whole day waiting for a lead that wasn't even a lead at all!"

"Isaac, text Stiles to come here."

"He says he's busy."

"Tell him he needs to come now, or I'll rip out his throat. With my teeth."

☺☹☺

"Yeah, because what werewolf-y business could possibly be more important than my great-grandpa's birthday?" Stiles' voice could be heard through the metal door. Astrid had a feeling he was loud enough for the whole town to hear.

"He sounds..." she trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Yeah," Derek answered immediately. Both of his eyebrows were raised in agreement.

He was still walking up the stairs, but Astrid could smell the distinct scent of nervousness and anxiety roll off of him. She could hear violent shuffling sounds, which she eventually realized was him wringing his hands together.

They had apparently interrupted his phone call with a relative, who lived all the way across the world. That's why he was busy at two o'clock in the morning.

"Did Derek steal a bank, or something? How do you guys have the money to afford this stuff?"

This was apparently his first time visiting Derek's loft too.

Him and Isaac stalked inside the loft, his eyes focused on the ceiling of the apartment, which was pretty darn high. Then, he switched his gaze to the large windows that revealed the night sky.

Although his hands were in the pocket of his hoodie, Astrid could tell he was still wringing them together anxiously.

She winced, hearing his sneakers squeak against the floor as a result from his nervous shuffling. Her ears were still sensitive, with the moon looming over her, watching though the large windows of the loft.

"Or something," Derek answered Stiles' question, sounding bored.

Astrid snickered, already feeling tension in the room. Someone who was as closed-up and calculating as Derek didn't seem to work well with this teen, who seemed to be the kind of person who spoke his thoughts, especially when nervous; which was all the time.

He definitely resembled the sheriff with his soft cheeks and ruffled, brown hair. Their behaviour varied though; Stiles was jittery and hyperactive, whereas the sheriff was calm and collected.

"Is Scott here?" His gaze flickered around his surroundings, barely staying on one object for more than a second. Eventually, his eyes landed on her. "Who's that?"

"That," Astrid started, the corner of her lips tilting upwards, "is Astrid. And she would like it if you didn't refer to her as if she isn't here."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Only teasing."

There was an awkward pause.

Derek rolled his eyes when he realized no one was going to say anything and stepped forward. "We need you to find a guy for us."

"Last time I checked, I was Stiles, not Tinder."

A deep rumble in the alpha's chest immediately shut the human up. Even Astrid and Isaac took a step back at the annoyance in his eyes.

"Please," she knew he was practically their last hope. "My sister's in danger." Those words had become so familiar in the past day... It was ridiculous how repetitive her life had become.

"It's not like I have a life or anything." Sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice. "Who do you want me to find?"

The three werewolves exchanged a brief look of relief. "Jacob Driscoll."

"Look," Stiles started tiredly, "my dad is already suspicious, seeing me sneak around and disappear all year round. He'll send me to Eichen House if he hears anything about werewolves." He cringed, before letting out a sigh. "I can't just go up to him and ask him where some guy lives. What do I say when he asks me where I got the name?"

"One lie won't hurt anyone."

"You tried to kill me," he deadpanned, squinting at Derek and Isaac as if they were idiots, "Several times." He crossed his arms. "I'm so done with this werewolf-y stuff."

He turned to leave, but Derek blocked his path, a boulder between himself and the exit. The awkward teen stammered nervously when his nose slammed against Derek's hard chest, then attempted to side-step him with no avail.

"Why couldn't you guys text me this? I just wasted a whole lot of gas money."

"Easier to convince you in person." Derek purposely flashed his werewolf eyes, a smirk on his lips. Isaac merely rolled his eyes, throwing himself on the shredded couch with a sigh.

"You better hurry, though," Astrid ordered. She disliked how slow everything was going. This plan might not even work, so they'll have to save some time for a back-up plan.

The guys nodded, his short hair flopping up and down on his head. "But first... What the hell happened?"

Astrid laughed awkwardly, looking at the tattered wallpaper and ripped couch with a grimace.

"Yeah... Don't piss me off."

"Noted."

– A/N –

a shorter chapter, but hopefully not worse haha

thank you so much for reading. i hope you'll give this chapter a vote! it'd also be nice to get some feedback if you have it

i won't publish the next chapter until this one gets at least 6 votes (gives me more time to write/edit newer chapters)

:)