be brave
“Be brave,” his father had said, eyes pained as he watched his son dragged backwards by two of the Hale betas. Stiles swallowed convulsively, wanting to break away from the hands gripping him and run straight back to his father - to Scott and Lydia and everyone else.
“I’m sorry, dad,” Stiles croaked, because he was sorry. He was so sorry he couldn’t past a simple Seer test, couldn’t be normal just like everyone else. It had been so long since a Seer had shown up in Beacon Hills that Stiles’ testing positive had sent everyone into a frenzy. Stiles barely had time to run home and talk to his father before Alpha Hale’s lackeys were at his home, demanding Stiles come with them.
Stupid fucking elders. You’d think a 600 year old contract would be null and void by the year 2012.
Stiles was shoved into the back of a sleek, black camaro before the betas - a blonde girl and a dark skinned boy - climbed into the front. Stiles watched his father grow more and more distant through the back windshield until there was nothing behind them but forest.
Pulling up to the Hale Estate was like arriving at the prison you were expected to serve a life’s sentence at. Stiles barely let the car slow down before he shoved himself out the back door, legs hitting the forest floor and buckling underneath of him. He ignored the pain, panic urging him to run as far and as fast as he possibly could. If he could find the river that ran south of the estate, he could drop his scent just long enough to put fair distance between himself and those who wanted him for nothing more than an ability he had no idea how to even access.
He’d heard enough horror stories about the last Seer, the girl who had gone through so much pain and terror that she’d burned down the estate and left only a small few survivors.
Stiles doubted he’d get the same chance as Kate Argent had.
Barely fifty feet from the car, Stiles had less than a second to register the sound of snarling before he was tackled to the ground. The blonde beta was the one who had stopped him, claws sinking into his skin as he thrashed and shoved at her, trying to break free.
Forced up and on his knees, Stiles caught sight of a pair of boots approaching. He could tell, with the way both betas kept him still with his arms behind his back and their hands pressing down on his shoulders, that this was the Alpha. The last of the Hales.
A clawed hand gripped to his chin, forcing Stiles’ head up until his eyes locked with a pair the color of blood.
Stiles’ heart froze in his chest, and Derek Hale grinned.
