Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life was normal. Then everything when sideways with the realization that werewolves were real. The 1970’s changed drastically with the revelation, forever altering the course of events world wide.

Over night the world changed and was moving towards a place of peace. Humans and werewolves were living in harmony. And then the Argent family destroyed any chance of peace when one of their hunters tracked and killed a large number of the royal family of wolves. Leaving a small sliver of their family intact, enough to destroy the Argents, wiping them from the face of the earth except for a few members here and there scattered to the winds.

With the betrayal of humans and the destruction of their pack the royal family, the Hales declared the humans less then animals and returned to the way things had been long ago in the distant past, with the wolves ruling over man. The royal family took slaves from the general population of humans and set about rebuilding their kingdom out of the ruins of their loss.

The capital of the new wolven kingdom was a few days ride from Beaconhills, a town that had been the place where the royal family had been decimated so fully. This semi quiet town so full of supernatural beings was the final place where the Argents were put to an end, and the start of the wolven rule and human slaves. The town was thrown from a modern city of science and technology to the dark ages virtual over night.

This shaped how the town grew and the lives of those who lived in the area, creating customs and laws in that area that favored the wolves and gave the humans little power. The humans still elected their local law enforcement, but the wolves had final say on who was in charge. Life wasn’t easy for Jon Stilinski by any stretch of the imagination. He lost his father early on in his life to an infection that could have been cured before, but the wolves didn’t believe humans were worth allowing them to have adequate health care systems. But he managed to get through Age Sale, and wasn’t bought into out right slavery. And he decided to dedicate himself to keeping the peace in his town. It was while he was attending to his duties as an apprentice peace keeper that his best friend, the local druid in town, Deaton, introduced him to Claudia. She was apprenticed to a local painter and was excelling at her profession.

The pair of them hit it off and by his twenty first birthday when he took the brand that would mark him for life as a peace keeper, they married and moved into a small house on the edge of the village. And for a time they were happy, truly happy. Soon they were blessed with a son and as he grew their small house became a home, and they became a family.

It wasn’t until the tremors started that they really knew anything was wrong with Claudia. By the time Deaton’s rounds brought him back through, there was little he could do but prescribe herbs that would make her comfortable. That winter Claudia passed and Jon lost the love of his life. He was devastated and for a time, one of the local healers, the mother of Jon’s son’s best friend raised the boy. Jon loved his son Stiles, but there were nights he’d retreat into a bottle or the local pub till there was no trace of feeling in the man, and that was no way to raise a son. Stiles adored his best friend, Scott, and his mother, Melissa. And over time Jon was able to get over the loss of his wife and be there for his son.

Stiles’ Age Sale was approaching, he’d be eighteen years old, the time when every human came of age, and they were put up for auction as a slave. It gave the slavers for the palace and the wolves a chance to bid on the young flesh’s potential. Stiles was a little worried about his. His father had survived not being bought. It was a Beaconhills tradition that no one bids on you on your Age Sale. So that you could live as free as you could. That didn’t stop slavers from coming and getting you if you weren’t apprenticed to someone, you had a year to get an apprentice ship or you’d be on the block every month till you were bought or died. His dad had managed to get an apprentice ship with the peace keeper who had run things before Jon because so many had died in a full moon raid. But there weren’t any openings anywhere this last year, and Stiles was worried that he’d have to go on the block more then once. That’s probably why when he heard the peace keepers talking about some travelers finding half a body in the woods he’d went and got his best friend to go out with him and look for the other half, in the dead of night.

Admittedly it was a bad idea. Stiles knew that. But he was running low on the herbs that Deaton brought once a year to him when he could come by and give him herbs to deal with his nerves and his hyperness. Stiles knew that that was part of the reason he wasn’t getting any offers for an apprenticeship. Too many people were wary of his manic nature. And at least part of him knew it was a bad idea to be out past curfew in the woods. Maybe more then just a part since Scott kept complaining about it as he had to stop and catch his breath. Asthma, that’s what Deaton called it, and Stiles felt sorry for Scott. But Scott at least had gotten an apprenticeship with the healers, so as long as he didn’t get bought at his Age Sale, he’d be set.

“We should go back…” Scott frowned, barely able to see anything in the dark.

“In a minute.” Stiles sighed, part of him knew that this sort of care free living would be over in a couple weeks. He’d either be a slave or Scott would be too busy with his apprenticeship to hang out with him. And he knew that they only had a short amount of time to be together. He was about to suggest they head back when he saw the lights and the sounds of the peace keepers tromping through the thick woods. “Shit. Hide.” He shoved Scott out of the way, knowing all too well that if Melisa heard he got Scott in trouble again, he’d have no more days to see his best friend before they were on their ways to being productive adults.

“And I’m not surprised you’re out here.” Jon sighed as he pointed his lantern at Stiles who was doing his best to use the fir of his coat to hide in the tree line.

“Hi dad…”

“And Scott?” Jon looked around.

“Wouldn’t leave his house. You know how he is about long walks.” Stiles put his hands in his pockets and walked towards his father.

“I realize you’re scared, but you don’t have to do these sorts of things. Especially dragging Scott into it.”

“Scott’s not…”

“SCOTT COME OUT!” Jon shouted, but nothing stirred in the forest.

“It hurts that you don’t trust me.” Stiles crossed his arms.

“It hurts that I have to double check.” Jon led Stiles over to the other peace keepers and they headed back to the village. Scott sighed and started making his way back. The last thing he heard that night was the growl before red eyes came bounding out of the darkness at him. It was daylight when Scott woke up, his clothing torn and bloody, the large bite mark half healed already. He started shaking and sobbing, knowing that his life, his carefully shaped life, was over. He was still sitting there sobbing when Stiles came looking for him. He knelt down to find out what was wrong, when he noticed the blood and the healing marks on Scott’s side. The color drained out of Stiles’ face.

“They’ll take me away.” Scott sobbed.

“No they won’t.” Stiles felt himself tighten as he pulled his best friend up into a hug. “I won’t let them.” He said as he dragged Scott to an herb Deaton had had him find before when they were treating a wolf bite a few years back. Looking for the moss that grew near it too Stiles used what little of herbs he knew to make a poultice to put on Scott’s wound, using some of the bindings he kept with himself for his own cuts and bruises he had come to expect over the years. “This won’t cure anything, but it’ll help hide you.” Stiles said calmly as he walked Scott back to the village. “We’ll get a spare shirt and we’ll tell the tailor that it’s my fault your shirt got torn, and I’ll see about getting it paid for.” Stiles was making plans as he walked Scott home, knowing his friend who lived so carefully due to his illness was about to have his life torn apart because he’d been an idiot last night and took his best friend out of the safety of his home to look for dead bodies.

“They find the rest of the body?” Scott asked quietly after changing in his bedroom.

“Yeah. That’s why we saw so many peace keepers out and about as we were walking here.” Stiles sighed. “Laura Hale was murdered.”

“Shit.” Scott sat down. Everyone knew the Hales reacted badly when one of their own was killed. But to loose the next Alpha to the pack would really raise their anger levels. “Does your dad have any idea who did it?” Scott chewed on his lip nervously.

“They know it was another wolf. Something about tearing that I really didn’t want to know.” Stiles said quietly as he tried hard not to break the peace that Scott was currently in. Afraid his friend would shatter if he had to think too much.

“Probably who ever bit me.” Scott said quietly.

“Yeah. I figured.” Stiles looked down. “Scott…” He was cut off as the town meeting bell rang in the center of town. They looked at each other, fear etched on their faces as they swallowed and stood, walking out of Scott’s house to the town center, where everyone was already gathering. But it was Stiles who stopped in his tracks and looked at Scott with worry.

“What?” Scott frowned.

“Lydia’s here.” Stiles nodded discretely and Scott looked and noticed her, in truth it was a little hard not to notice her, floating almost a foot taller then everyone else, draped in expensive silk robes, and the heavy iron collar around her neck that lead to a chain that was being held be…

“Stiles, is that Derek Hale?” Stiles’ dad being the head of the peace keepers for Beaconhills had call to know all Hales on sight, if only to prevent him from doing something stupid in front of them and risking his life.

“Yeah, that’d be Derek, Laura’s brother.” Stiles swallowed hard and started walking again.

“Great. What’s he doing here?” Scott sulked.

“Probably just seeing if we know anything about his sister’s murder yet.” Stiles tried to reassure his friend. But in truth there was only one reason you bring out the pet Banshee. And it wasn’t to question humans about a murder, it was for her to read the supernatural and point out those who weren’t entirely human. Scott was going to get noticed at this rate.

“My sister was murdered outside your town.” Derek walked, his body wrapped in soft velvets and leather with just a touch of iron armor here and there. On his head the crown of his station gleaming in the morning sun. “My uncle.” He pointed to a tall, disturbing looking man, sitting astride a horse. “Thinks that I should raze the town to the ground with all of you inside your homes for this.” A wail of sorrow broke through the crowd. “But.” And the noise died down as they all looked at Derek. “I believe mercy might be a better course of action.” He looked through the crowd who were alternating between bowing their heads and looking at him. “We caught the scent of two wolves in the woods. One is my sister’s murder, the other is not. We tracked both back to this town.” Scott turned and looked at Stiles, panic clear on his face. “I know there are two werewolves in this square other then myself and my uncle. Both of them bitten.” Derek growled out the last like it was a disgusting word to his mouth. “I will not ask you to reveal yourselves. Your instincts won’t allow it.” Derek stepped back and led Lydia by her chain to the group. “Find me the beta my dark sidhe witch.” Lydia nodded, her copper curls cascading around her head as she drifted back and forth in front of the crowd, her head tilted as she listened to unearthly sounds till she was standing directly in front of Scott.

“This one my master, he is the beta who was born last night. Though a druid of sorts has tried to hide him.” She gave a shrill whistle and his shirt fell off of him in shreds, revealing the poultice Stiles had bound to him. “Poorly made but well executed.” She turned to Stiles. “Not a druid then.” She smiled at him. “But smart enough to know what to put with what to try to protect his friend.” She turned back to Scott. “This one did not kill your sister my lord. But he was bitten by the new alpha.” Everyone clamored at the news that Laura had been an alpha before she was murdered.

“Where is her murderer sidhe?” Peter scowled at the witch as she hovered in front of the boy. Her nimble hand reaching out and grabbing Scott’s hand holding it in a death grip as he tried to pull it free, all the while the other darted forth and pressed against his side. The poultice burned away so she was touching Scott’s bare flesh. Scott’s eyes turned white as he threw his head back in a silent scream, and in the back of the crowd a man screamed as he fell to the ground writhing in agony.

“There my lord marshal, there is your culprit.” She held onto Scott while wolves in polished silver armor grabbed the wolf that began to howl in pain as the armor burned his flesh where ever it touched. Lydia released Scott who dropped to his knees, his body weak from her magic. Stiles reached out to help him but stopped as Derek growled.

“He was bitten and you tried to hide him from us?” Derek’s eyes turned a blazing blue as he glared at Stiles who seemed to be shaking harder then he thought possible at the moment.

“My lord, he’s my son.” Jon stepped out of the crowd, the brand on his chest clear through the leather harness of a shirt he wore as head peace keeper. “And the boy who was bitten is his best friend in this world.” Jon’s tone was low and calm, but his eyes held the fear that his son might be killed for this.

“The punishment for trying to hide or kill a bitten wolf is the lash.” Peter said from his horse, sounding for all the world board of this situation and place.

“My lord he was only trying to help his best friend.” Jon pleaded.

“How old is the boy?” Derek never let his eyes leave Stiles’ form though Stiles’ had the sense to bow his head and not look at Derek directly.

“He’s seventeen my lord, his Age Sale is in two weeks.” Jon swallowed hard.

“Nephew, either punish the boy or let’s be gone from this place. I have a spark to extract from a soon to be corpse, and the slaves will be polishing the stench of humans out of my cloths all night.” Peter sighed heavily.

“Since he is not yet of age, I will be lenient with the boy.” Derek glared one last time at Stiles before turning to Jon. “But he is not to leave his home till his sale.” Jon nodded, rushing to his son as Derek snapped and guards took Scott and bound him in chains behind Derek’s horse.

“SCOTT!” Melissa sobbed. “Where are you taking my son!?” She shook with fear. Peter scoffed at the woman.

“He’s bitten now. He has no place with you filth. We will join us at the palace and be tested to find out of what use he’ll be to us. If he joins the pack and is useful he’ll live. If he refuses to join the pack, well…” Peter stroked Scott’s face, his eyes still vacant from Lydia’s spell. “Then he’ll look lovely as a slave before he dies.” Peter shrugged and brought his horse to a trot, forcing the new alpha and Scott to walk at a fast clip to keep up or risk being dragged. Melissa collapsed sobbing in the street as Derek stopped in front of her.

“He will not die, he will live, a long and happy life as a member of my pack. Though I doubt you’ll ever see him again, be content that he will live.” Derek turned from her and mounted his own horse. “To me, sidhe.” Lydia took one last long look at Stiles, frowning at him a little before she shrugged and floated over to Derek where she barely rested on the ass of his horse before he hooked her chains to his bridal and took off into the woods.

The town broke into action quickly after they knew the wolves to be out of ear shot, those who knew her, gathered Melissa up to take her home and try to console her, Jon gathered up his sobbing son and took him home, knowing that Stiles would blame himself more then anyone for this turn of events. At least the stress of it all put Stiles out cold easier then he’d slept in years. Jon watched him sleep for a long time before leaving to go check up on Melissa.

Two weeks of being locked up in his own house did very little to help ease Stiles’ mental state. It did even less for his prospects for an apprenticeship. The night before his Age Sale, Stiles and his father had one last meal together. A small birthday celebration, Melissa had stopped by long enough to give him the gift that Scott had got him before all this had happened. Stiles had spent the rest of the night sobbing in his room while holding the pencil set. It wasn’t much but it spoke volumes about Scott and their friendship that Scott knew it was what he wanted. Stiles silently packed his things in the morning. He knew he’d be back tonight to unpack and he’d probably try harder to get an apprentice ship with one of the artisan guilds tomorrow. But it was tradition that the would be slaves would pack up their possessions before the sale so that their masters could decide whether or not their things came with them. What little he owned fit into two satchels, something about that made Stiles feel sick in his stomach. But there wasn’t much he could do about it as he undressed and packed his cloths into the satchels as well.

The law said prospective slaves weren’t allowed clothing on the block; it gave potential masters and owners the opportunity to look over the investment. Of course once he wasn’t bought he’d put his cloths back on and go about his day, but the idea was once he was a slave his owner would decide if he wore cloths. Most of the local slaves were allowed light clothing in public. He’d grown up seeing slaves work here and there. He was glad he wasn’t closer to the palace. He knew the wolves kept their slaves naked most of the time. The better to use them as sex toys at any given moment, all the while reminding the slave in an unchanging way that he was less then everyone else. Stiles closed his eyes, he could do this. Swallowing and walking down stairs he carried his satchels on his shoulders, his father was downstairs, being polite and not looking as Stiles came down naked, he gave him a light hug, and opened the door for his son. They walked the twenty minute walk to the center of town where Stiles’ possessions were put in a holding area behind the block, and he was lead up on the block, his arms shackled above and behind his head so that he couldn’t hide any of him, everyone in the village was being polite and not openly gawking at his naked body. They’d all been up here and they knew what it was like, and they weren’t going to make it harder on him.

As Stiles looked out he noticed something that make his heart pause and his blood feel like ice in his veins. There were professional slavers in the back of the group and behind them were the prince, Derek Hale, and his uncle standing next to a cart. Panic filled him as he looked at his father who shrugged. He didn’t know why they were here either. Stiles closed his eyes and tried not to sob as the town crier announced that it was time for the inspections. There were five other potential slaves on the block beside Stiles, but nothing really prepared him for when the slavers began running their hands all over his body, touching, testing, and teasing his flesh till they got a full erection from him. They left no inch of his body unexplored before moving on to the next slave. He’d never felt so exposed in his life as he stood there and let them touch him like that. Normally there weren’t any slavers and no one really did anything during the inspection, they left the would be slaves to their own devices so the process could be over faster.

But Stiles had heard the slavers commenting on him, and double checking some of the stats about him. His fears that he would be bought rising to near panic levels. But soon enough the Slavers left the block and the auction began. The slavers bought two of the other slaves, Stiles was third on the block so he was hoping beyond everything his body was screaming at him that they’d pass him over. And as the auction started no one placed a bid on him. He sighed, the slavers were respecting their tradition of not biding on a first time auction. He was almost in the clear when he sat Peter gesture to him.

“Isn’t that insulting to the boy? I mean I know he’s a little thin and the sign says he’s erratic due to some medical conditions, but not a single bid?” He whispered to his nephew. “The boy is going to be shamed in front of his entire village.” He shook his head.

“Someone will bid.” Derek crossed his arms, but as time weighed on no one did.

“Someone should start the bidding.” Peter shrugged and raised his hand bidding fifty coins on the boy. Derek could smell the spike of panic that surged through Stiles, even from as far back as he was. He honed in and listened to Stiles mumbling.

“god no… not him. Don’t let me belong to him. Please…” Stiles was mumbling under his breath and Derek gave a low growl before bidding on him for 100 coins. Derek frowned a little as Stiles’ panic grew but he did seem happy that Peter wasn’t the highest bidder for some reason. Then Peter bid again.

“150.” Peter said calmly.

“200.” Derek countered.

“250.” Peter examined his nails.

“700.” Derek growled, his uncle smirking as he didn’t bid again. The town was stilled into silence and several reeked of disapproval and sorrow. Derek frowned, which only deepened as the auctioneer cried sold. Sold? No one sold a first timer. The tradition in the palace was to bid to show the would be slave how much they were worth and then they were free to try for an apprenticeship. Why would anyone sell a first timer… Derek’s face fell as he realized the traditions were different here and he’d just turned the boy into a life long slave. “You knew.” Derek glared at Peter who smirked and fained ignorance.

“What’s it mater, he’ll make a lovely slave, and will look amazing on your sheets.” Peter smirked as he walked away. Derek growled and walked over to pay the auctioneer, watching as they uncuffed Stiles and took him to his father, Derek watched the two embrace and break down in sobs. Stiles bent to pick up his possessions and Peter spoke.

“Oh you can leave those. You won’t be needing any of them.” Stiles froze, and the smell off of him was heart breaking.

“He can put them on the cart.” Derek growled and Peter just smirked before leaving. The peace keeper walked over to Derek.

“You didn’t know did you?” Derek nodded and put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “He’s my only son…” Jon’s voice broke.

“And I’ll see to his safety.” Derek said in a low voice.

“Will you consent to… payment?” Jon bit his lip and looked Derek in the eyes as Derek’s eyes went wide.

“Peace keeper, you’re better off here. I.. can’t take you in trade. This town is better served by you being here. And… as for… buying him…” Derek sighed. “The palace has rules. Once bought it’s for life. He…” Jon’s shoulders dropped, his tears falling shortly after as he watched his son carry what few things he owned to a cart that would take him to a very different life.

“Why’d you have to be here today?” Jon knew he was being impertinent but his heart was breaking.

“We… had business in the area.” Derek covered up quickly. He looked at Jon who seemed shocked to have any answer. “I’m not going to punish you.” Derek said quietly. “I know how hard this is for you.” He put his hand back on Jon’s shoulder. “I’ll try to make sure he gets put some where in the palace that isn’t too rough on him.” Derek sighed, knowing this was his mistake and it was ruining the new slave’s life.

“be patient with him. He…” Jon closed his eyes. “The healers say he’s got something that was known as ADHD before…” Jon sighed. “We don’t have a treatment for it. But Deaton was coming by once a year to give him something to help him mellow out. You need to make sure he sees Deaton when he gets to the palace… or they’ll…” Jon’s voice broke.

“No one will kill your son. This was my…” Derek stopped, Jon’s eyes flying open in shock. “I’ll take care of it.” He said gruffly, knowing better then to admit a mistake in public to a human. “We must be off.” Jon nodded and went to the nearest bench before collapsing, several of the villagers going to him, trying to ease his pain and his loss. Stiles closed his eyes and curled in on himself sobbing in the back of the cart.

“Oh stop that slave. You’re going to have a much better life.” Peter put his hand on Stiles’ ass and stroked it gently, causing Stiles to shiver with revulsion. “And you can drop that disgust. You’re a slave now. We choose your sexuality and your partners.” He whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Maybe I’ll ask for my rights as a noble born wolf while we’re on the road… you’d look so pretty spread out under me as I shove my cock in your tight hole. So either shut up or I’ll give you something to sob about.” Peter smirked as Stiles reeked of fear before Derek growled.

“Back off Uncle.” Derek was right behind him.

“Just telling the slave to calm down.” Peter smirked before going to the front of the cart.

“Don’t let him get to you. But… you may want to cry as softly as you can and try to get it out of your system before we get to the palace.” Derek said quietly. “I’m sorry this happened… I…” Stiles looked up at him.

“I’m just a slave now.” His eyes looked broken. “a thing. things don’t need apologies.” He mumbled in his broken voice, thick with his sorrow.

“It won’t be so bad. I promise.” Derek tried to touch Stiles but he flinched away from him. Derek sighed and walked around the front of the cart, leaving the naked and shackled slave to cry quietly in the back of the cart. He knew he’d probably be getting yelled at later and have a moody wolf on his hands when he explained to Scott what had happened. Two weeks of listening to his attendant go on and on about how worried he was about Stiles and his lack of prospects, hell they’d come to offer him an apprenticeship at the palace so that Scott could have his friend near him. Derek knew how much Stiles meant to Scott and now Stiles was coming to the palace as a slave. He mentally sighed knowing he was going to have to deal with Scott soon. He glanced over at Peter who seemed to be pleased with himself. Wondering to himself if his uncle planned this whole thing in retaliation of his favoring Scott with a position as his personal attendant crossed Derek’s mind before he went back to watching the guards drive the cart.

They’d been riding for the better part of the last four or five hours when Derek frowned and turned around, noticing that Stiles wasn’t in the back of the cart. His hands had been bound behind his back so he couldn’t pick up his possessions so he’d left them on the cart, Derek could smell the pain at that and sheer desperation filling the back of the cart and leaving a clear trail to where Stiles had gone. Derek stopped the cart and told his uncle to stay with it. He got up and followed the scent to where he could see Stiles running through the woods, or trying at least. Running naked with one’s arms shackled together wasn’t exactly easy every day things for humans.

“You realize the slavers will beat you half to death before raping you to death for being a run away slave.” Derek said calmly, causing Stiles to stop in his tracks. His shoulders trembling as he stood there.

“It was worth a shot.” Stiles turned around and looked at Derek, his eyes full of anger.

“Is being a slave that bad that you’d rather be raped to death or worse?” Derek frowned.

“Yes. Yes it is.” Stiles glared at Derek. “You ruined my fucking life. I’m now a piece of property, which’s going to get raped anyways.” His voice broke when he said it. “Might as well die in the process so I can have some kind of freedom.” Stiles’ breathing became uneven as he started to go into a panic attack. His body seemed to crumble in on itself as he fell to the ground, fully consumed by his panic attack. Derek picked him up and carried him back to the cart. He laid him down and turned to find Peter already headed back to the cart.

“Making us late. Running. I should have taken my rights on you hours ago.” Peter opened his britches, his cock already hardening as he approached Stiles. He pushed him chest down and aimed himself at Stiles.

“Uncle, do-” Derek started but before he could finish Peter tried to shove forward and a flash of white energy pulsed out of Stiles, knocking Peter dozens of feet away, knocking down all the near by trees, and causing Derek to land on his ass as he fell off the cart. He had a stunned look of shock on his face till he heard Peter growl and charge. He reacted and was between his uncle and Stiles in seconds, holding his uncle back who was trashing about, crazed with rage that he slashed Derek’s cheek. Derek’s eyes went electric blue before he punched Peter in the face, and carried his unconscious uncle to the front of the cart. He went back and linked the unconscious Stiles’ shackles to the cart before going up and telling the guard to get the cart moving.

Three days later Stiles stirred to life to discover they were on the outer edge of the palace, a giant building made of steel, stone, and glass. He looked up at Derek who was looking ahead, a scar healing on his cheek, and then to Peter who had a black eye and frowned. The last thing he remembered was a panic attack and then a roar and he’d passed out. He started to speak but a hand went out and was over his mouth before he could. He looked over at the slave chained down similarly to him, but with his hands on enough of a slack chain that he could cover Stiles’ mouth. The curly haired blonde male slave shook his head and Stiles frowned but took the hint. What ever had happened he clearly wasn’t supposed to talk right now, and he was happy with that. He nodded to the slave and laid back down. Stiles thought about the fact that he’d been unconscious for the better part of three days, and that they clearly had to have stopped in Riverside to pick up the new slave. How had he not woken up at the noise of Riverside?

Stiles opted to focus on the size of the palace. It looked like at one time it might have been a full city, but the city, mountain, and various buildings had been added on to until they were one building that was absolutely massive, and with the landscape drawn up in places along the walls that looked beyond huge, it looked like a partial dome had been erected around the city as a means of defenses. Stiles marveled at all the tall buildings seemingly made of sheets of glass. He wondered what he’d be doing in a place like this. And for a second he felt a fleeting thought, maybe I’ll see Scott, I wonder what Scott does here… Scott who’s a wolf… and I’m a human slave… who can’t wear cloths and has to be sexually submissive to the wolves… yeah avoiding Scott. Stiles sighed.

“I still think we’d be better off having killed him.” Peter said after a long while when they were still a mile or so outside the partial dome of the palace.

“Just because he’s awake doesn’t mean I want to hear it nor does he.” Derek growled. “You tried to do something against my wishes, he reacted, you attacked, I stopped you, you attacked ME, I fought back. It’s ended.” Derek looked at Peter. “And if I sense it hasn’t ended, I will end it.” He glared before turning back towards the front. “I’m glad you woke up Stiles.” Derek said with out turning around. “And if Peter tries to attack you again, you have my permission to defend yourself.”

“Defend myself?” Stiles blushed, trying to figure out what he’d done, Peter and Derek both turned to look at him then.

“You’re not quite all human are you.” Peter stated, his eyes narrowing.

“Uh, 100% human here.” Stiles frowned at the pair of them.

“You created a shockwave, leveled some trees, and threw my Uncle off of you by a few dozen feet. I’m going to bet on something supernatural in your blood.” Derek scoffed.

“Both my parents were 100% human, and so am I. Nothing supernatural here.” Stiles said defensively. “So I don’t know what you crazy wolves think you saw but…” Peter growled.

“Show some respect slave.” Peter glowered at him before turning back around.

“There is one other thing we need to talk about Stiles.” Derek sighed as the gates opened and the guard drove the cart into the palace, heading for the large court yard in the center of the palace.

“What’s that?” Stiles sighed.

“I was in town because Scott wanted me to offer you an apprenticeship at the palace.” Derek sighed. “I didn’t realize your town’s customs were different from ours, and didn’t realize I was buying you. So… yeah…” Derek sighed and threw his head back. “Scott’s going to be pissed off.”

“yeah.” Stiles sighed. “Is there anyway I can not see him… like ever?” Stiles bit his lip.

“Why, he’s your best friend, it’ll kill him not to get to…”

“See the naked slave who has no choice but to service his sexual needs when he’s told to?” Stiles countered.

“You have a point but I’m sure in time…”

“That I’ll want to blow my best friend who I risked death to hide from you… not likely.” Stiles went to cross his arms, figuring out they were still cuffed behind his back and sighing. “But I don’t have any say in anything anymore. My nudity, my sexuality, my freedom, not even who I get to see or get to avoid. So I’m going to be petulant and probably stupid over here while you find a way to tell my best friend that you messed up, ruined my life, and did it partly because of him. Then see if he thinks I want to see him.” Stiles sighed.

“And me?” Derek asked casually.

“I get a say in that? I figured I’d be face down on your bed by tonight learning how to be a good submissive.” Stiles said petulantly into his knees that he’d drawn up to his chest. “I planned to spend today dressed, feeling sorry for myself and looking for work. Instead I get to spend the rest of my life naked being passed around like a party favor between people who are going to treat me like I’m less then them simply because my parents didn’t happen to grow fur on the full moon.” Stiles felt the tears well up in his eyes as he realized he’d never see his father again.

“It’s not that…”

“Bad?” Stiles finished for him. “When you get to where you can talk to Scott, ask him how many layers I wore on a hot day and then talk to me about how bad this is.” Stiles shut up and wouldn’t talk to Derek as he tried the rest of the way to the court yard. It wasn’t till they were almost pulling in when Peter cracked a smile and Derek cursed that Stiles looked up and gave a little sob before trying to hide himself in the back of the cart. Scott was practically bouncing on his heels standing in the court yard waiting on them. “shit.” Stiles hit his head against the cart. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Yeah. I feel so much better.” Stiles snarked back at his master before trying his best to go unnoticed.

“DEREK!” Scott yelled as he ran up to the cart as it was pulled to a stop. “I’m so glad you’re back! Did he accept! I thought I saw him…” Scott stopped by the side of the cart noticing two slaves. “Why’d you pick up two slaves? Where’s Stiles?” Scott sniffed. “I can smell…” Scott stopped as Stiles spoke, his face turned away from Scott.

“Can you go stand far enough that you can’t see me and Derek and you can have a nice long talk and I can be mortified by myself for a bit.” Stiles said quietly.

“Derek, why is my best friend naked…” Scott’s voice was low, his mind not wanting to accept what he’d already assumed when he saw a naked human.

“Scott it’s…”

“WHY IS HE NAKED DEREK!” Scott growled, his eyes going golden.

“Because he’s your new fuck buddy, go a head and sink your cock into his hole.” Peter smirked as he got down off the cart. “I had a go at it the other day and it was… amazing.” He laughed as he walked away, Derek’s hand the only thing keeping Scott from attacking Peter.

“HE TOUCHED MY-”

“Stiles defended himself. His… virtue is intact.” Derek sighed. “Take them to a holding cell for now. I’ll deal with them in a bit.” He nodded to the guards. “Scott we need to talk.”

“He’s a slave.” Scott’s voice broke as Stiles was lead away, his possessions being left behind to be dealt with later.

“I didn’t…”

“YOU BOUGHT HIM!?” Scott fell down sobbing. “God how can you be so stupid. No one bids on your first time. It’s tradition.” Scott cried hard.

“Here we bid the first time to show the would be slaves how much they’re worth and give them incentive to get an apprenticeship.” Derek sighed.

“Yeah, we don’t do that. We know how humiliating it is to be paraded around like that and we try to make it as quick an experience as we can.” Scott scowled.

“Humiliating? I don’t…”

“You wouldn’t.” Scott sniffled as he sighed. “You’re a born wolf lord.” Scott looked up. “Imagine what it’s like for a human. They choose who they share their body with, they choose when they share their body. Now someone steps in, enslaves them against their will, takes their rights and their cloths away, and makes them have no say if they’re used for sex…” Scott closed his eyes.

“You didn’t have any reservations when I gave you that slave before I left to break in.”

“That’s different.” Scott sighed. “That wasn’t Stiles. I could… pretend it doesn’t mater.” Scott curled up. “And I gave him permission to say no.” He added as he looked away.

“You never said…”

“I was raised better then to think just because I got bit by a wolf that I had any right to rape someone.” Scott looked away, refusing to look at Derek. “And that’s just a regular human. This is Stiles.” Scott groaned.

“He said to ask you about how many layers he wore in hot weather?” Derek frowned.

“Yeah you wouldn’t know would you?” Scott looked up at Derek, his eyes a million miles away. “Stiles has… he doesn’t go with out what he calls minimally acceptable layering. Which means on a hot day when I’d be down to just britches, he’d still be wearing enough cloths to cover every inch of skin from the neck down.” Scott’s eyes looked hollow. “He hates being naked in front of people.” Scott paused and thought about it. “You’d better have someone watch him. He’s liable to kill himself.” Derek’s eyes got wide at the suggestion.

“He wouldn’t….”

“He’s tried it before. Last year, they have a prep for the age sale at school. To teach you to deal with it. They make you take your cloths off in front of your class and get a feel for what it’s like. I didn’t like it but it wasn’t that bad. Stiles screamed, sobbed, and tried to kill himself when they took his cloths away.” Scott closed his eyes, remembering the look of fear and terror on his best friend’s face. “And now he’s being faced with a life time of it… yeah he’ll probably slit his wrists, cut his throat, or jump out a window if he thinks it’ll kill him. Probably as soon as no one’s watching too.”

“Scott if I could…”

“Save it Derek.” Scott stood up and cleaned himself off.

“Scott..”

“I won’t go back on my word.” Scott cut him off. “I’m staying in the pack. I’ll stay here. I just…” He started to walk away.

“Scott!” He paused.

“I asked you to bring my best friend here so I could at least see him. Instead you made him a slave, took away his rights, and will destroy the best parts of him to make him subservient. He’s not cut out to be a slave. He’ll either die or be killed, and it won’t be long. So I’m going to go sob over the loss of my best friend forever, and try to think of a way to apologize to him before he dies so he knows I never meant for this to happen. I’ll be in my chamber if you need me.” Scott walked off.

“Damn it.” Derek sighed, before he tuned his hearing, hearing a scream and running to where he knew Stiles would be being held. He pushed his way in and found Stiles using a broke scrap of iron to slit his wrists. The other slave as far away as he could get in the opposite corner. Derek pulled the metal out of Stiles’ hands, and Stiles looked at him with a faint smile on his face.

“Looks like I get to be free sooner then I t-thought.” He crumpled to the floor, the blood flowing freely from the deep cuts on his arms. Derek snapped the chain holding Stiles to the floor and fled with the dying human in his arms to Deaton’s office. The druid was laying out herbs to make a poultice when Derek burst in and ran to the nearest bed.

“I’d ask what happened, but it’s pretty clear from the angle this was self inflicted.” He poured a clear, foul smelling liquid on both jagged cuts before smearing a green paste down both. “It’ll stop the blood loss and help promote tissue growth.” He sighed. “May I ask what dangerous task he was doing when this occurred?”

“Adjusting to being a slave.”

“Excuse me?” Deaton asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He was so opposed to being here, that when we left him alone to talk he tried to kill himself.” Derek pulled the blanket up over Stiles, covering him so that when he woke up he’d have at least that. Derek looked up as Deaton stared at him. “What?”

“This is the person Scott was looking forward to seeing wasn’t it.” Deaton looked at Derek.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know Stiles when you see him Deaton.” Derek sighed. “His dad told me he’d been seeing you for treatments for his ADHD and panic attacks.” Derek sat down.

“And I could have told you that Stiles was never suppose to be a slave if you’d told me you were planning on doing this.” Deaton shrugged as he walked over to his desk, picking up a tablet and typing in the dietary needs of his patient and sending it to the kitchen.

“I didn’t plan on enslaving him. Peter said….”

“Ah, and how is your Uncle. Still meddling in people’s lives I see.” Deaton said, putting the tablet down.

“I know he knew before he goaded me.” Derek sighed.

“And now you see why I’ve counseled you not to trust him.” Deaton shrugged. “A shame it took the loss of this one’s future to teach you that your Uncle can’t be trusted.” Deaton sighed and walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a box of rune stones.

“What was his future before?” Derek frowned.

“He was going to live a long and happy life, get married, have children, lead that town to a future where it would be the shiny jewel of your empire, and in time you would have become friends and you’d have relied on his council to lead us into a shining future. But by making him a slave you’ve changed his future and your own.” Deaton sighed.

“How?” Derek frowned.

“This boy was supposed to lead you to your mate and bring you stability and great power into your life. Now that is highly unlikely. In enslaving him, you sealed his fate, and your own.” Deaton sighed as he began throwing the stones. “I’m just hoping that the gods of fate can do something about this mess.” Deaton stood and read the runes while Derek looked at Stiles, wondering how he could have fucked up so many people’s lives over something so simple as enslaving one human. Sighing to himself he looked over at Deaton sideways.

“Did you know he’s supernatural?” Deaton stopped and frowned at Derek.

“He’s human Derek.” Deaton rolled his eyes as he went back to reading the rune stones.

“Peter tried to rape him, he went into a panic attack and created a shock wave of energy that leveled part of a forest, and knocked me on my ass and Peter well away from him.” Derek watched Deaton stop and stare at Derek for a moment.

“That’s not…”

“The healed bruise on my ass and the guard who was there will say otherwise.” Derek snapped.

“But in all the futures I’ve read about him, he’s always human. Always. No supernatural powers, no supernatural heritage…” Deaton frowned hard as he looked at the runes. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out three stones, each a dull grey, he walked over and put them in Stiles’ hand, closing his fist around them he chanted, a light flashing in Stiles’ clenched fist before Deaton opened it and pulled out two smokey quartz crystals and one black onyx stone. “He’s not human anymore.” Deaton’s voice was low. “Derek what have you done…”

“I don’t know.”

Stiles woke up some time later, his wrists bound and cuffed to the sides of the bed he was in. He sighed, so close. He’d dreamed he’d died and saw his mom and was at peace and then this nagging sense of pain and dragged him awake only to realize he hadn’t managed to kill himself.

“Back among the living.” Deaton said as he sat down beside Stiles.

“Not for a lack of trying.” He sighed. “Of course Derek would make it here in time. Werewolf speed and druid magic.” Stiles sulked.

“It could have been much worse Stiles.”

“I don’t really see how. I’m alive. I’m a slave. And wouldn’t you know it there’s this pesky thing about me having to be naked of all things.” Stiles sighed.

“I know your aversion to…”

“Try out right fear of.” Stiles corrected.

“Stiles there are certain truths you will have to adapt to in your new status in life…”

“Slaves go naked. I got the memo. Doesn’t mean I have to stay alive very long to enjoy that particular joyful bit of news.” Stiles gave Deaton a withering look as Deaton undid his cuffs.

“You realize of course that this isn’t exactly anyone’s fault but Peter’s correct?” Deaton said as he got up.

“Why would he…”

“I mean he was the one who told Derek they were insulting you by not bidding. And Derek wanted the best friend of his favourite pup to like him.” Deaton went on shrugging. “And he’s had so much on his plate, Peter had to know it would have slipped his mind that Beaconhills does things differently, seeing as Derek’s never been there for an Age Sale before, and has only been to Beaconhills four, maybe five times. Mostly to collect the taxes which he’s kept low the last two years running because he knows how tight things are down that way.”

“He’s a saint and he messed up because his Uncle’s evil. I got that part.” Stiles sulked.

“Yes, it’s a shame that Peter went and did that, seeing as it completely changes everyone’s fate in this kingdom. I mean, how was Peter supposed to know that one human becoming a slave when he wasn’t supposed to in any line of the fates would lead to Derek never finding true happiness, the kingdom probably falling into ruin, and destroying hundreds of thousands of lives all because he acted with out thinking.” Deaton tisked.

“He’s many things Deaton but he’s not stupid he wouldn’t make a move with out thinking it through.” Stiles sighed. What little he knew about Peter was that the man was an iron minded master mind. “So he had to know that. But what your saying is I was going to have a different life, supposed to and Peter fucked it all up for some bigger plan?”

“Pretty much, but what do I know. I’m just a humble speaker for the trees.” The druid bowed.

“And once a slave, always a slave, for life.”

“Yes. That is traditionally how it’s done.” Deaton walked away.

“And now you’re acting shifting like when I asked you about sex when I was twelve. You know something and you’re not talking. Why?”

“Stiles… catch.” He threw something at Stiles, who threw his arms up and the object stopped in mid air, held in place by a barrier of light. “Been doing that long?” Deaton smiled as the apple fell to the ground, unharmed.

“I didn’t… know I… could…” Stiles fell over in bed, nearly falling out of it. Deaton helped the boy up, who seemed to be nearly boneless if the way he moved was anything to go by. “What happened….?” Stiles struggled to frown.

“I’d hazard a guess that you used too much magic too quickly and don’t know how to gage it properly yet.” Deaton sighed. “You were human. Entirely human. And you were meant to live a human life, have human children, and lead Derek into a golden age for men and wolves alike. That future was destroyed by Peter’s motivations. Now… now you’re not human. Someone up in the high heavens has decided to try to fix what Peter’s set in motion. And the only way they could do that was to alter you. I don’t fully understand it yet. But they’ve changed you Stiles. Changed you in… a way that no one’s ever seen.”

“Oh good, and here I thought it might be cancer or something fun, instead a god just turned me into something not human because a psychopath decided to fuck with the fates decrees. Lucky me.” Stiles laid back and sighed, feeling slowly returning back to his limbs.

“There is an upside to all of this.” Deaton said over his shoulder as he walked back to his desk. “If I can prove that a god intervened to change you from human to supernatural to change a fate that was knowingly broken by someone else, then your status will have to be changed to try to repair the damage to fate. The King won’t risk the Gods’ wrath over something so large.” Deaton smiled.

“So if you can prove a God changed me from human to this… I get to stop being a slave… that sounds nice but hard to prove.” Stiles looked at Deaton.

“Yes. It is.” Deaton sighed.

“Great.” Stiles sighed.

“Is he okay?” Stiles looked up to see the curly headed slave that had come in with him standing at the door, a shyly trying to hide his nudity with his hip.

“He’ll live.”

“Lord Hale wants to see him…” The boy bowed his head.

“Which one?” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“The nice one.” A blush spread across his face.

“The one I was yelling at?” Stiles raised and eyebrow and got a nod. “That’d be Derek. The other one is Peter. If Peter asks for me, go tell Derek.” The boy nodded. “My name’s Stiles. What’s yours?”

“I’m Isaac.” The boy sheepishly blushed.

“Nice to meet you Isaac, sorry we had to meet as slaves. So where am I heading?” Stiles looked at Isaac who seemed to blush harder.

“Lord Hale requested I bring you to his bed chambers.” Stiles blinked, hoping he’s miss heard him, but when Isaac didn’t attempt to correct or clarify he sighed, stood up and bid Deaton good bye as he followed Isaac, trying not to stare at his naked ass as it wiggled in front of him. Isaac quickly got him up an access stairwell of pure stone up several flights of stairs to a door with a runic symbol on it. “This is Lord Hale’s floor.” He explained as he opened the door and lead Stiles through to a hard wood floored loft style room that was surrounded by exposed brick and large picture windows with ornate glass etchings in them. There were several smaller rooms on this floor, one of which had an open door. Stiles peered in as a naked male was bobbing his head up and down in Scott’s lap. Stiles blushed and looked away but quickly peeked back, he hadn’t seen Scott naked since they were younger and it was strange to see a live sex show in front of him like this.

“His name is Matt.” Isaac said as they finished walking past Scott’s door, who looked up to see Stiles blush before giving a sorry look to Stiles.

“I hope he makes Scott happy.” Stiles said quietly as they walked on.

“I think Scott makes him very happy. Scott insists that Matt have the right to say no to any, personal time. I… over heard them arguing earlier.” Isaac blushed as he led Stiles to one of the larger rooms. “He said to have you go a head and shower, and he’d be in to explain things to you in a short while. I’m going to wait in our room…” Isaac blushed.

“Our room?” Stiles blinked.

“Across the floor from Scott’s room. We’re personally owned by Lord Hale, so we sleep here. He saw to that. But others can… make requests.” Isaac subconsciously touched his ass.

“Someone make a request of you already?” Stiles asked quietly.

“No… Lord Peter made… a comment about using me and you later….” Isaac blushed and scurried out of the bathroom. That’s what this large room was, multiple showers, Jacuzzi’s, and one bathtub almost the size of Stiles’ house in the middle. Figuring that might be too much of a fuck you on his first day, Stiles picked one of the smaller built in tubs closer to the ground level of the room and slipped in, washing up as he relaxed in the warm water.

“Scanning… body temperature requirements adjusting… Please confirm user?”

“Uh… who was that?” Stiles dove to cover himself in the water.

“My name is Sala. I am the Ai in charge of this floor. I need to know which new user is in the tube so I can create a profile for your body requirements.” The room seemed to say.

“Ai?” Stiles looked around.

“Artificial Intelligence. I take it your from one of the villages as you aren’t familiar with technological advances of werewolf kind. I am a synthetic personality designed inside a computer to monitor and control the electronics of this floor of the building.”

“Hi Sala, I’m Stiles Stilinski, I’m a new slave here. I belong to Derek Hale.” He said more to himself to remind himself to that.

“Understood, Slave Stilinski, user saved. When you’ve finished with your bath I will direct you to the eating area, you appear to need several foods.” The room replied before going quiet.

“Thank you.” Stiles blushed, haven’t never met a room that could watch you take a bath. It was a curious concept. He knew from what remained of books what a computer was. Some of the old scifi novels he had read growing up talked about space ships with computers that could talk and think. So an Ai wasn’t that strange to him, just unexpected. Stiles was mulling this over when Derek walked in, the armor was gone, but he seemed to still be in his leather britches and a solve velvet looking shirt. He was looking at a black sheet of glass that seemed to display different things. Stiles watched it for the longest time before he blushed; realizing Derek had stopped to look at him. “Nice place you have here.” Stiles decided being polite was a good idea just now.

“And you seem to have clamed down.” Derek crouched down, his clothing barely wrinkling as he crouched there looking at Stiles’ face.

“Deaton said there was hope for my problem.” Stiles looked down. “So I’m clinging to that.” He sighed.

“The precedent about godly intervention?” Stiles nodded. “And he explained how hard that is to prove?” Stiles nodded again. “Well at least it’s something. For now there are a few things about your situation you don’t know. Since you are supernatural now, in a few days you’ll go to the testing grounds to be tested and find out what kind of supernatural you are now. You’ll be given cloths fitting your station then.”

“Cloths?” Stiles squeaked, though he was sure it was a much more manly sound he made.

“You saw how Lydia was dressed when we collected Scott?” Stiles nodded. “Supernatural slaves are afforded cloths. But not until after they’re identified. We wouldn’t want to put you into leather and have it turn out you’re a brownie or something that draws too much strength from that sort of fabric and tries to rebel. So till next week you’ll remain naked, then you’ll get tested and you’ll be allowed to dress.”

“my things?” Stiles bit his lip.

“Everything but your clothing is in your room.” Derek gave a soft smile.

“May I have some paper later?” Stiles blushed.

“Why do you need paper?” Derek frowned.

“It’s not for a spell or anything. I just… I like to draw, and Scott went and got me a pencil set for my birthday back before you took him and his mom gave it to me before… and I haven’t even gotten a chance to draw with it yet.” Stiles swallowed hard, feeling himself on the verge of tears.

“Sure.” Derek gave a soft smile. “There are a few other things you should know….” Derek sighed as he sat down, his back to Stiles.

“Okay.” Stiles moved to the edge of the tub.

“Officially I own you. But any wolf can give you orders, unless they countermand an order I’ve given you personally or in writing. And I’m ordering you not to do anything that would harm your body, leave lasting marks, or kill you. I’m sure with my Uncle lurking around in a foul mood I’ll have to add to that list, but he’s an inventive soul, so I won’t know until after he’s done something horrible what to try to protect you from.”

“Okay.” Stiles sighed. “Not the most reassuring… but I can live with it for now.” Stiles breathed deeply before asking. “What else?”

“I forbid you from having sexual contact with Scott.” Derek said evenly.

“Thank you.” Stiles smiled.

“I now you don’t have feelings for him like that… and I’d hate for someone to make you do something you’re not… willing to do.” Stiles could feel deeper emotions in there.

“You’ve never thought of it like that have you.” Stiles stated.

“Scott’s made me see a few things. Like Matt. I gave him to Scott as a way to burn off the sexual energy wolves build up. And what’s he do, turn around and gives me lessons in what it’s like to be a slave and treats his slave like a lover, giving him the choice to say no in their love making.” Derek scowled.

“Yeah, he may be a big puppy but he’s got a heart of gold.” Stiles smiled. “I’m glad living a life of privilege hasn’t changed him.” Stiles said a little louder then he normally would have, knowing full well Scott could hear him. “He’s still my best friend and I think once I can wear pants around him I won’t have such a big problem.” Stiles shrugged.

“Can you handle it if I allow you to wear a robe while on this floor? You’ll have duties off the floor so you’ll have to go naked at least part of the time.” Derek considered.

“I’d like that.” Stiles blushed. “It’ll be a welcome reprieve.”

“Now I have to ask, are you attracted to males or females?” Derek tilted his head, listening to Stiles’ heart more then his answer.

“Well… I like girls.” Stiles blushed as he looked away from Derek’s back. “I’ve never… thought about being with a guy.” He paused. “But something tells me I won’t get much of a choice in who my partners are, will I.” Stiles pondered aloud.

“I’m pretty sure that my Uncle intends to have you and Isaac pair off.” Derek pointed out.

“That… will be strange… I mean I hardly know Isaac…”

“But you’d be okay having sex with him once you know him better?” Derek asked, his tone shocked to say the least.

“Maybe. I’ll have to think about it. But I guess when I leave here I’ll go try to get to know him so when your creeper of an Uncle does strike we’ll at least be… capable of surviving.” Stiles stood up out of the bath and a drawer on the wall opened to reveal towels. “Thank you Sala.”

“There is food ready for you in the dinning area Slave Stilinski, please follow the indicator lights.” A portion of the wall light up in a series of arrows.

“Thank you Sala, you can just call me Stiles.” He chuckled.

“Okay Stiles.” Sala replied.

“I’ve been meaning to ask? What’s Sala stand for?” Stiles looked at the back of Derek’s head.

“Sensory Analytic Logic Algorithm.” Derek supplied. “There’s one on each floor, this one works just for me. She keeps this floor working and shares my preferences for drink and food to which ever floor I’m on so the right orders get put in for me.” He smiled.

“You created computerized nanny’s. Cool.” Stiles wrapped the towel around himself after drying off and walked along towards the kitchen, passing Scott’s now closed door. He smiled to himself and headed to the rather spacious looking dinning area, where a tray was laid out with curly fries. “Okay Sala, I’m officially loving you.”

“I hazard a guess as to the shape you’d prefer your foods. They are healthy enough to replace the nutrients you need, and still tasty.” The wall replied to him.

“Okay your house is officially the coolest person I’ve ever met.” Stiles commented, hearing Derek behind him as he nibbled on his curly fries.

“So it’s not so bad here?” Derek asked quietly.

“It wasn’t my first choice. But I think I can learn to live here.” Stiles said, knowing Derek could hear the truth of the worlds even while his mind was wondering about how to run away. As nice as this place was, he had his father to worry about and the idea of being a slave, even a supernatural one, wasn’t something he wanted. And even Deaton said the Gods didn’t want him a slave. So surely no one would begrudge him if he slipped away. At least that’s what he told himself while he stood there eating those sinfully good curly fries.

Stiles was laying on his bed in his shared room with Isaac looking at the lay out of the palace trying to get a feel for the best ways in and out. But also to familiarize himself with the areas where Peter was most likely to be, avoidance of Peter Hale was to be his chief concern till Stiles could find himself a way out of this palace. He used Sala late into the night to look at detailed charts and blue prints of the compound. He’d staid up as long as Isaac had to get to know Isaac, he felt bad leaving him alone here, but he knew Scott, he’d look after him. Who knows, maybe Scott’d take him to bed, or Derek might. It was a complicated mess here at the palace as to who might sleep with whom next. And Stiles as very much aware that he wanted to keep his virginity his till he felt like it was time. He smiled softly down at his soft velvet like robes he was wearing and listened to Isaac’s even breathing before he slipped out of bed and headed towards the access stairs.

“Going to run so soon?” Matt was sitting in the common area, a series of sofas in a square around a circular table, he was working on a digital design as he sat there.

“I know you and Scott are close and…”

“He’s treated me the best since I got here.” Stiles shut up as Matt talked, not bothering to look at you. “He’s what I wish all wolves were like.” Matt looked over at Stiles then. “He’s kind and generous and never treats me like I’m a fucking post for him to get off in. And he says he loves me.” Matt smiled softly, wiping a tear away. “And he lets me play with the digital design systems while I’m up here. Not that anyone is supposed to know that.” Matt sighed. “But I know what it’s like out there. I watched my brother get shipped off to a breeding farm. They enslaved him just to see if they could breed slaves faster with good genetics.” Matt pulled his feet up on the sofa, tucking them behind himself. He played with the placement of a part of the coding, silent for a long time.

“I swore I’d hate them all. Every wolf. That I wouldn’t rest till I saw them all dead for what they’ve done to me and my family.” Matt looked at Stiles then, the rage in his eyes. “And sometimes late at night… I feel guilty for loving Scott back.” He said quietly looking down.

“But you still hate them? Him included?” Stiles asked, wondering what his best friend had gotten into.

“I don’t hate Scott. I can’t.” Matt paused. “Hell even when we fight, I can’t hate him. And I’m dealing with how that makes me feel. I always figured I’d meet a nice girl, have some kids, and maybe settle down in the country side, and maybe take on apprentices for my artistry. But then the mill failed, the crops burned, we had a harsh winter and a harder drought that spring, and my father decided to make a deal with the slavers, and sell me off as a pleasure toy to the wolves.” Matt’s face got hard again.

“I was passed around by the guards. Kept away every minute of every day for weeks till I’d pass out for days on end, but the fucking never stopped.” He closed his eyes, trying not to see his past in front of him. “And Derek thought finding me a more… permanent place would help…” Matt said quietly. “He didn’t even know how right he was. Scott’s exactly what I’ve been needing the whole time I was here. Someone who sees me as a person, not a hole to be stuffed.” He blushed.

“You’re not planning on killing him are you?” Stiles frowned, leaning on the sofa back looking at Matt.

“Maybe at one point I did. The first night. When I figured if I didn’t play along he’d have me beaten or raped. But… no. Not had a violent thought against Scott in almost two weeks of being together. So… I think I’m probably not going to hurt him.”

“Good.” Stiles leaned in close. “Derek screwed up, I don’t like it but he did. And he’s trying to make it right so I don’t hold it against him. Scott’s like a brother to me. You hurt him, I’ll leave pieces of you in every forest for a 100 miles.” Stiles’ eyes went cold. “Peter on the other hand, you ever have an opertunity, make sure he stays dead.” Stiles got up and went towards the access door.

“Do you want me to tell Scott you’re sorry?” Matt asked, his back still as he faced his digital creation.

“Yeah. Tell Scott I said I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here. I can’t be a party favor or a slave. I’d rather die then live here.” Stiles slipped out the door, never noticing the indicator above it. And he didn’t hear the wolf sensitive sound that emitted on their floor waking both Scott and Derek from their sleep.

“What’s going on?” Scott held his hands over his ears, his sleep pants riding low on his hips as he looked over to Derek who was likewise dressed in the silk pants.

“Who left with out permission?” Derek looked over at the common area where Matt was working, looking up and swallowing hard when he realized both wolves were wide awake.

“He said he’s sorry…” Matt looked at Scott.

“Damn it.” Derek ran towards the stairs, Scott falling down in shock, realizing his best friend was probably going to be dead in a few minutes.

“Scott…” Matt ran to him, holding him.

“He… he ran…” Scott looked so defeated.

“He loves you too.” Matt said softly, stroking Scott’s back. “He just couldn’t be a slave.” He whispered as he held his lover.

“What’s going on?” Isaac yawned, coming out naked.

“Stiles ran.” Matt’s eyes held unshed tears as he watched his words take meaning in Isaac’s eyes.

“You are so hopeless.” A voice Stiles hadn’t heard in weeks said in the dark of the tunnels he’d found himself trying to sneak through.

“Lydia?” He swallowed, pulling his robe tighter around himself.

“Who else would be down here trying to explain to you that what you’re about to do will put Peter on the thrown and make every human alive his sex toy for the rest of time?” Lydia appeared in front of him, sitting on a small pile of stones, her entire being glowing silver in the darkness. “Or that you’re a complete and utter moron for risking everyone’s lives like this?” She shrugged as she looked sideways at the wall and listened to thinks Stiles hoped to never hear. “Or that you’ll cause Scott’s death inside a month if you don’t follow me.”

Stiles started to open his mouth, she leaned over to stone on the wall and pushed it. The wall behind her slid open, she motioned for Stiles to follow. He looked at the Banshee like she’d lost her mind, she simply rolled her eyes and he followed into a well lit room full of warding stones. She paused, hovering over a long flat stone carved with multiple runes in every conceivable language. As Stiles watched some of them hovered and changed.

“Do you swear to bring no harm to the Prince, and no harm to yourself?” Her hand darted out pulling his arm across the stone.

“Wa-”

“DO YOU SWEAR IT!” Her voice seemed to echo out of the very stones surrounding them.

“Yes.” Stiles swallowed.

“A truthful oath spoken on the stones.” She said in a more even tone.

“I swear I mean the Prince no harm. As for myself… if it keeps Scott alive, then I wont bring harm to myself either.” Stiles said looking her in her moon stone eyes.

“A price agreed upon, but services must be granted first. What is it you desire?” Lydia’s hair began to glow, floating as if a strong breeze was blowing up from under her.

“I want to be free, I don’t want to be a slave. I want to wear cloths. And I want to see my father again, but not to have him a slave or dead.” Stiles added.

“Aye. Well chosen words.” She smiled at him.

“A bargain is chosen and resign, your freedom and cloths shall be yours by my design. And no harm to prince and self, through any fault or help. Thy father to you wish to win, so thy fates I do amend. In this we agree and come to accord, the price to come you can afford.” She sliced his hand with her talons and squeezed it over the stone as she did the same to her own hand. “What has been done here no man nor god nor ire born can ever end.” A new set of engravings appeared to spring out from where his blood hit the stone, waving into the over all pattern, but filled with his blood mixed with Lydia’s own. She smiled sweetly.

“What did I just do?” Stiles held his hand up to look at the healing line.

“A bargain struck with a Sidhe.” Lydia bowed before walking him out of the room and sealing it again. She tapped her collar and scrolled through a virtual list of people. “Lord Hale, I believe you may be mistakenly searching for a runaway slave… my apologies. He is not a run away. I required his assistance.”

“Doing what?” Derek’s growl sounded in the hall, coming from her collar.

“There is a rare celestial conjunction tonight and it was ripe in seeing what aspects of his blood would react to it, to help narrow down the search to what he is.” Lydia smiled sardonically at the image of Derek on the holographic screen.

“Bring him back please.” He ground out.

“At once my Lord, my apologies.” She smiled and ended the call.

“You lied to him.” Stiles said after a while.

“I lied because he needed the lie.” She shrugged. “With out it he’d have no choice but to hand you over to Lord Peter for punishment. And that is all Peter can think about. Punishing you for having been born, because so long as you draw breath you have the chance to fix what he’s spent decades driving wrong.” She floated up the steps, Stiles in tow.

“But I’m a slave, that future…”

“Deaton and his silly stones.” She sighed. “The Sidhe are creatures of pure magic. Part of the Fae race. And as such we understand the paths of infinity better then the druids can ever hope to.” She sighed. “No future is truly lost till it is lost.” She smiled. “And yours is not lost. Not now.”

“Now since we..” She put fingers to his lips.

“Speak not of what we have done this night, to anyone.” She glared him down till he nodded. “But yes, now that future is… possible in parts and ways. The path is different but the same.” She shrugged.

“You’re hard to understand sometimes.” Stiles frowned.

“Only because you’re existing in a linear arch of time only existing in four dimensions and only aware of three, I’m truly surprised you all fit like that.” She frowned at him a moment before tilting her head and floating up the stairs.

“Okay I’m going to pretend I understood a word of that and nod along.”

“Placating my seeming rantings doesn’t bring understanding to your mind any faster then drowning a man dries his cloths.” She admonished.

“Right, going to have to find a dictionary in this place if I want to understand you.” Stiles shook his head.

“Or be taken to the room. Yes… the room would make you understand. But.” She paused and looked at him, looking through him, past him, and beyond. “No, I think not. At least not yet. Maybe sometime when. But not now. Definitely not now.” She nodded before floating away.

“Okay then…” Stiles followed only to run into her as she stood stock still.

“No.” She frowned and he looked around her to see Peter standing there.

“The run away is mine.” He said planely.

“And he was not running away.” She floated there impassively.

“He was too, weren’t you boy?” Peter leered at him.

“Nope, she needed my blood to tell what kind of supernatural I am.” Stiles replied, hoping that was even partly true, for all he knew it was.

“She won’t always be here to save you.” Peter glared at Stiles. “I’ll have you spread out on my sheets begging me to stop and to continue before I’m done with you.”

“And I’ll recite poems atop your grave stone one day. May we pass, his master has requested him back.” Lydia frowned.

“Far be it from me to keep a slave from pleasing his master.” Peter grinned, loving the way Stiles went pink at that suggestion. “How ever… you seem to have left your rooms in clothing.” Stiles looked down realizing he was still in his robe that Derek had given him. “Silly slave… forgetting something like that….” He smirked as he reached over and slipped it off of Stiles leaving him bare to the stairwell. “My… such lovely flesh.” He cupped his hand around Stiles’ manhood, holding it while looking at him. “Sidhe, I want you to sing my favorite song for our slave here. He’s not had the pleasure.” Lydia sighed and rolled here eyes before singing a tune that seemed to fade in and out of reality while she danced in mid air. The world seemed to fall away from Stiles as he was surrounded by every sexual fantasy he’d ever had. All of it filling him with a pulsing need till he felt his orgasm crash against him and he floated there on the edge of orgasm after orgasm till he became aware of the world around him and of Lydia’s song ending. He looked at Peter, his mind blank as Peter smirked. “Dirty slave. Look what you did to my hand.” He held up his cum covered hand. “Lick it up.” Stiles shivered, but knew better then to disobey a direct order like this form Peter. He leaned forward and began to lick his own seed off of Peter’s hand. “And do look at me while you do it.” Peter’s voice was raspy as he watched Stiles, who blushed while he looked up at him, licking his spent essence from the older wolf’s hand. When he was done, Peter made him suck on two of his fingers while he took in Stiles’ appearance, he finally pulled back and smirked.

“Think of that tonight while my nephew beds you, that I’m going to make you do things that will ashamed and thrill you beyond words.” Peter walked off leaving them alone.

“You’ve seen his death in one of the time lines you see?” Stiles asked quietly.

“All of them actually.” Lydia nodded, watching the door shut behind Peter floors down.

“Then there is hope for the future.” Stiles turned and followed Lydia as she floated up the stairs.

“Personally I like the one where he’s buried in an active volcano and I sing while his skull melts.” Lydia said ten minutes later as she stood in front of Derek’s door.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Stiles said trying to keep his face and voice neutral.

“You should. You get to push him in as a wedding present.” She said before turning and floating away.

“Okay… officially the strangest person I’ve ever… hello.” Stiles stopped mid sentence to find Scott on top of him, having tackled him when he opened the door.

“you ran.” Scott said in a hoarse voice, thick with tears.

“I made a mistake that I got help with.” Stiles said as he stroked down Scott’s back.

“you ran.” Scott said again.

“I did.” Stiles sighed. “Scotty I…”

“don’t do it again.” Scott said firmly.

“I don’t…”

“Good. Because I’d have to be the one to take you to Peter.” Scott said coldly before running off.

“You wouldn’t make…”

“It’s his job to take the slaves on this floor to Peter for punishment, as my personal attendant.” Derek said from where he was leaning against the wall.

“shit.” Stiles sighed.

“Yeah. Your actions have consequences here Stiles. You can’t just…”

“Not know something and act on instinct and ruin other people’s lives?” Stiles replied coldly. “Yeah I know. I wasn’t thinking about anyone else, I just wanted to leave or die trying. It was pointed out to me earlier that doing so means a lot of people I care about will die or worse. So maybe being your property won’t be so bad. Maybe I’ll grow to like it. And maybe unicorns will roam the land again.” Stiles walked off towards his room.

“The bathroom’s farther down the hall, unless you want to smell of your emission and my uncle for the rest of the night.” Stiles stopped, and walked off to the bathroom, muttering something about wolves and their sense of smell.

Scott curled up on his bed, Matt curled around him, trying to comfort him. Derek looked in on them for a moment and then looked at Scott. “You gave Matt access to the artistry programs?” Matt started to talk but Scott talked over him.

“Yes.”

“How did you know he wanted that?” Derek frowned.

“I saw how he reacted to things.” Scott said after a long while. “He reminded me of Stiles back home, of how he’d study things to commit them to memory before he drew them. I figured Matt was an artist. And then we talked about it and I showed him the program. I created a log in using his biometrics and gave him access to it.” Scott looked at Derek.

“Can you tell me what Stiles likes?” Derek bit his lip.

Chapter Text

“You lied for him.” Derek said as he closed the door to a stone chamber lit by an errie green light, shutting out the glow of the early morning.

“Lied is such a strong word. I prefer more along the lines of creative interpretation of presented facts.” Lydia was sitting upside down on the ceiling.

“Why’d you lie for him?”

“Because he needed it, and so did you.” She shrugged. “And while your pet Druid will say it evens out the balance of the world, and seeks to find a way to end his enslavement to right the things your Uncle set in motion… well the rest of the world has it’s own ways of dealing with things.” She smirked.

“You knew my Uncle was going to do this?” Derek looked up at her.

“I knew from the minute Laura asked me if it was a boy or a girl.” Lydia stood on the ceiling and stretched.

“Laura was with child…” Derek’s face paled.

“Her child would have been the next heir to the thrown. And while you would have been over joyed to know there was no way you would ever sit atop the silver throne…” Lydia floated down. “Others in the line decided it was time to take matters into their own hands.” She drifted over to a stone table that had a built in data screen.

“You’re saying my Uncle had her killed?” Derek growled.

“Why no. I would never suggest the Lord Marshal, Lord Peter Hale, Lord of the punishing whip, keeper of the pains and sorrows, reaper of widow’s tears would ever do a thing like that.” Lydia’s voice crooned. “To suggest such impropriety from my station? And see my head on his chopping block?” She shook her head.

“Then who was behind it?” Derek slammed his fist down.

“Someone smart. Someone wise. Someone to whom her growing brood would be a threat. One that could not be over looked. Not when another was going to sit on the throne anyways.” She shrugged. “At any rate that is neither here nor there. You want to know if you can fix him.” She sighed as she drifted over to a cabinet and opened it. “Three drops in his morning drink.” She offered him a silver blue vial of liquid.

“Wha… LYDIA!” He growled sniffing the mixture. “I am not looking to find him a bed mate.” Derek threw the vial, only to have her capture it in mid air.

“Such fickle things you mortals are.” She shook her head.

“Not all of us are mortal.” Derek growled.

“A shaft of silver, a bolt of bane, or off comes half the body, till nothing remains.” She cooed. “Long life and perpetual health are the gifts of the bite, but no werewolf ever avoids the long night.” She drifted to a near by window, sealed with iron bars. “The Banshee are born but never die, we shed one form for another. Living in perpetual life. You will be dust in the ground one day, and I will be singing songs over your long forgotten descendants’ bones.” She laid back on the air. “Tis how the world works. You will live and you will die. But I will remain by and by.”

“Must you always speak in riddles?” Derek sighed.

“Riddle no more nor puzzle hence.” She was suddenly in front of Derek. “A bargain struck can not be undone. On faith alone a mortal dares, throwing himself away with his cares. But while dogs may think the world thyn, plots arise from minds divine.” She drifted away. “What was taken must be restored.” Derek started to speak and she slammed her fist down, cracking the stone. “Release him or face dangers untold.” She bellowed; wind nearly blowing Derek to his ass as she glared at him before drifting away, returning to normal.

“What did you really need him for?” Derek asked after a while of observing her.

“Between and betwixt, bothered and bewitched he came to me. Now he is on the path. That is all you need know.”

“What path?” Derek watched her as she paused.

“The path to his freedom, one way… or the other.” She laughed as she floated away from him.

“Great… just what I need.” Derek sighed, and left her chambers, never noticing another standing in the corner.

“He has left mistress mine.” The voice said plainly.

“Good. We have much to do, and short time to run. The game is on and our enemies are many.” She looked at the man, taking in his sun warmed skin and hair as black as a raven’s wing. “Do me proud my Daniel and we shall win the day.” He nodded and faded into the darkness once more.

Derek stomped half the way up the steps back to his floor when he was stopped by his Uncle. He glared at him and started to walk past when Peter spoke.

“You’re not still mad because I made him cum first are you?” Peter chuckled as Derek growled low in his throat. “It’s a shame he was ordered not to have relations with little Scott.” Peter smiled. “It just means I have to be creative about getting my fun.” He walked a short ways away from Derek before pausing. “You know. I think he’d look lovely on cleaning duty in the guards’ barracks. Do have him nicely loosened for them; they do like to forget humans aren’t naturally slick down there.” Peter walked off smirking as he took in Derek’s clenched fists. Derek stalked up to his room where Isaac was making coffee, Matt was cuddling with Scott whispering their good mornings to each other.

“Matt, I want you to take the other two to the spray room.” Matt’s face got hard but nodded. Scott’s whole body tightened as he looked at Derek. “Peter assigned Stiles to the barracks for the guards coming off of duty.” He sighed heavily, going to Isaac and looking him up and down before downing his coffee. “When you get done with your turn in the spray room, come back here. I am going to need to relieve some tension and it’s better for you if I go first.” He sighed.

“But Stiles…” Scott started.

“Will have to learn the hard way.” Derek growled out, clearly not happy about this turn of events.

“Stiles will have to learn what the hard way?” Stiles tied his robe shut as he stood in the doorway to his and Isaac’s bedroom.

“How to service horny werewolves.” Scott squeaked.

“Right. My stuff, I didn’t go through it last night. Did you take any of the jars out when you were taking my cloths out?” Derek frowned and shook his head. “Scott you still have any of your mom’s recipe for that messy salve?” Scott frowned and nodded. “Good, you explain the recipe to Sala; I’ll go find my jars. I’ll need a mixing bowl and you two werewolves to stay the hell away from me when I start mixing.” Stiles turned around and walked back into the bedroom.

“What the hell is he making?” Derek frowned.

“No idea. But he’s only asked for my mom’s salve twice that I know of.” Scott frowned as he got up and headed to his room. “And both times he wouldn’t talk about it afterwards…” Scott held the recipe up and let Sala scan it. She was busy building the salve in a large bowl for Stiles when he came back with a faded blue tin jar that he opened and the wolves wrinkled their noses at the smell.

“What the hell is that?” Derek growled.

“Virginity saver.” Stiles grinned brightly as he took the bowl from Sala, thanking her in the process while he went to the far corner of the room and poured a little of the powder into it. “How many guards are coming off duty?” Stiles asked turning back to the wolves.

“Fifteen usually.” Derek frowned hard at the smell.

“Yeah better use more of it. I’ll draw the herb I use for this, you’ll have to tell me if there’s any near by and if I can send anyone out to get it.” Stiles dumped a little more of the powder into the salve and began mixing it. As he mixed it Derek felt like the room was getting too hot, and he noticed Scott was moving ever closer to Matt who was looking at him strangely. It wasn’t till he noticed Scott rutting against Matt’s leg and that he was doing the same to the counter that Derek looked up at Stiles who was shaking his head. “I told you to stand back.” He chuckled as he mixed the two substances into a single one, having Sala provide a lid for it sealing it from the wolves’ sense of smell.

“What the hell is that?” Derek panted, his pants damp and tented as he gripped the counter.

“If you mix that herb with that salve, you get a substance that drives horny werewolves to rutting against the first thing that presents. I’m going to coat my hands with it. I’ll give a lot of hand jobs today, but I’m not ready for… else where just yet. If I have to I’ll use some as lube, they wont last long against it. But yeah, I’m not taking many chances here.” Stiles looked over to Scott who was pinning Matt against the nearest wall, slowly rutting against him. “I need him to show us to the spray room.”

“But need to mate…” Scott whimpered.

“And you can as soon as he shows us where to go. If you let him go now I’ll give him some of the lube for you later.” Scott bit his lip and nodded, moving away from Matt, hope burning in his amber eyes.

“We’d better hurry.” Matt grabbed Stiles and Isaac and ran out of the room, fleeing from the two horny wolves who were in the process of eyeing the holes they’d be fucking soon enough. Matt led them down a few flights to a hallway that was pure white with runic markings on the doors. “The spray room is the polite way of saying it’s a place that cleans humans out and… stretches tight places…” Matt blushed.

“So it’ll…” Isaac put both hands over his ass blushing. Stiles had dropped his robe at the door, knowing better then to walk around the palace in it, now, and felt more then a little exposed.

“It’s not so bad… once you’re stretched and lubed. Till then it’s… a little rough.” Matt commented, taking them both into the room which looked like a giant tiled shower room except for the strange poles in the middle with seat like places attached to them. Matt dirrected Isaac and Stiles to sit and decided to sit across form them so they could watch him. As soon as he sat down, arms under his seat moved, examined his hole very closely, and a self lubricating nozzle entered him expanding and contracting as it cleaned him out. He blushed a little sitting there, his cock hardening as the hose went up in him. He watched as Isaac bit his lip and Stiles’ eyes got big as their own holes were invaded for the first time by the searching probes. “They… t… they make sure you’re cleaned an-and lubed for…. Sex…” Matt whimpered shuddering; his eyes half closed as the machine nearly brought him off. It finally ended, leaving his hole spotless and stretched nicely and lubed up. “Now, I’ll take Isaac back up with me. Derek said something about wanting to work out some frustrations…” Isaac blushed at that. “You need to go to the other end of the hall, there’ll be a door with a white circle on it, put your hand on it and tell it you need to go to the in coming troop barracks. It’ll do the rest.” Matt nodded but stopped when Stiles put his hand on his shoulder.

“I promised Scott.” He mentioned, quickly dropping behind Matt and applying a generous amount of the salve to his hole. “Trust me… he wont last long. But knowing Scott he’ll want to go over and over again till he can’t anymore.” Matt nodded and quickly left with Isaac in tow. Stealing himself for what was to come he quickly went to the doors and was shocked to find a small room inside. Once the doors closed he felt it move, traveling through some part of the walls. Stiles was just starting to think about how much easier this would have been to take to get out last night when the doors opened and he was presented with fifteen soldiers and guards, all in a state of undress. A large guard walked up, stripped down to just his leather pouch and sized Stiles up.

“What you want slave?” He barked, his dark skin flawless and taunt across his large body.

“Slave Stilinski here for entertainment duty?” Stiles bit his lip.

“Well, well boys, looks like we pleased someone they sent us some fun time.” The gripped Stiles by his cock and lead him out into the locker room like place.

“Boyd, don’t tire the boy out too much, the rest of us want some as soon as our pants are off.” One of the other guys joked as Stiles was brought to the center of the room.

“Where you want it slave?” Boyd grinned.

“I was thinking my hands. I have a special trick for you.” Stiles smiled ever so sweetly, gaining a laugh from all the guards.

“What’s the special trick?”

“If I can get you all off with just my hands, can I get you to leave my back door… alone for now?” Stiles gave a little pout.

“You think your hands are that special they can bring us all off and we’ll leave your hole alone?”

“I’m just asking for a friendly bet. That if I can bring you off and fully satisfy you with just my hands… that you’ll all agree to leave me alone… back there… for now.” The wolves all howled with laughter but looked at each other and then at Stiles before Boyd, having gotten the nod from the unit, agreed. “Okay.” Stiles pulled a cushion over to kneel on, and opened the container, the wolves’ nostrils flared at the scent.

“W-What is that…” Boyd moaned, his pouch threatening to burst as he stood in front of Stiles.

“My special treat just for you hard working guards.” Stiles dipped his hand in it, and with his other pulled the tight pouch off of Boyd’s monster cock, before greasing it up and starting to jerk him off with the salve covered hand. It wasn’t too long before Boyd was slamming his hard leaking uncut cock through Stiles’ fists, cumming all over Stiles’ chest.

“Damn boy. If you can deliver on your promise you might just have a special duty with us every chance we can get it.” Boyd panted, going to sit down and recover. Stiles noticed all the wolves were utterly uncut, where it was a little uncommon for humans to be uncut these days, werewolves healed any injury so, even the bitten would regrow their foreskin in time. Stiles absently wondered if Scott’s had started growing back yet when the next two wolves moved up for their turns. Stiles greased up his other hand and held them waiting for the boys who simply stripped off and slammed into his waiting fists. Stiles was glad he’d been stretched before hand, but at the rate the wolves were gearing up to fuck his hands, he wasn’t likely to need the lube in his ass. He looked over in the corner where they were busy smacking around another slave, equally naked who wouldn’t meet their eyes.

“What’s his story?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask the guard fucking his hand.

“Oh that? That’s just a Triborn.” He rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on his cock.

“What’s a Triborn?” Stiles frowned.

“Oh right, you’re not from a city are you.” He pointed over to the boy they were abusing. “Triborns are born wolves… but their slaves.” He panted, trying to keep focus while keeping his pace. “They’re born of wolves and the Mechs. So their born of three races. Triborn.”

“Mechs?” Stiles frowned harder.

“Above your pay grade slave.” He finished hard on Stiles’ chest before walking away to let the next wolf up to bat.

“Why are Triborn slaves if their wolves?” Stiles asked the man, holding his hand back to keep him focused a little bit longer.

“They’re abominations. Not natural. Too much machine in with the person for the wolf to work right. So they’re slaves, barely even able to think let alone feel. They’re not real people.” The wolf plowed into Stiles’ hand, thinking his answer good enough. Stiles decided then and there that he’d try to talk to the Triborn slave and find out more about this, and failing that he’d ask Scott or Derek. Thinking on it he realized he’d be better off asking Scott, he’d be more likely to give him an honest answer. Derek was a born wolf, he probably felt the same way that these guards did. That Triborns didn’t matter just because they were less then a born wolf, probably the same thinking that lead them to think humans were just meat puppets to use as slave labor.

Derek tore open the door when Matt and Isaac came back to it, utterly naked his large cock hanging long and hard down his thigh as he slid two fingers home in Isaac’s hole, leading him towards Derek’s room by his hole. “He’s in your room.” Derek said to Matt in more of a growl then a human voice, as he gave up leading Isaac and picked him up, carrying him with superhuman speed and strength to the silk sheets of Derek’s bed. He flipped Isaac over and with very little preamble aimed himself at the tiny looking hole and slammed home in one fell thrust.

“AWWWWW!” Isaac screamed as Derek plowed his massive prick into him.

“Between Peter and that smell…” Derek snapped his hips harder.

“I understand my lord.” Isaac moaned, arching his back as his prostate was hammered.

“I won’t always…” Derek panted, his eyes glowing blue.

“I know.” Isaac whimpered, his body wracked with pleasure as he got stuffed. Derek pounded till he emptied himself in Isaac, making the human spill his own seed into the bed. Derek laid over him and growled softly.

“again.” To which Isaac could do nothing but groan.

Matt was fairing slightly better, Scott didn’t last even a fraction of the time he normally did but what he lost out on duration, he more then made up with frequency. By the time he was done, Matt wasn’t sure he was going to be able to walk. He’d have to remember to get some of this for special occasions from Stiles. He looked over at Scott, utterly unconscious from their sex; he smiled to himself and cuddled in close. He’d catch up with Stiles later and maybe thank him good and proper for his help. His last thought as he drifted to sleep was if Scott would allow it.

A couple hours later, there were some rather worn out but sexually sated werewolves heading out to get their breakfast while Stiles headed back to the elevator, that’s what they had called it. But what worried him was the Triborn that the others had used and left laying on the floor. He paused and went over and helped the boy to his feet. He didn’t look much older then Stiles but was utterly broken as he kept his head down and wouldn’t look at Stiles’ face.

“My name’s Stiles. What’s your name?” Stiles bit his lip as the Triborn looked up at him and then back down quickly. He wondered if what they said was right. That Triborns weren’t capable of understanding things. But the way the boy had reacted earlier and was knowingly not looking at Stiles’ face made him think other wise. “Are you able to talk?” The boy nodded but wouldn’t look at him.

“Okay. Well, I have to use the elevator to go back to my floor. Do you want to share?” The boy nodded again and latched on to Stiles’ arm as they walked back to the elevator. “What floor do you need to go to?” Stiles asked quietly as they stood in front of the elevator.

“Storage level.” The boy finally said as he put his palm on the circle. The door opened and he got in, boggling as Stiles got in with him, the boy clearly wasn’t used to company on his way to the storage level. He was unusually quiet on the journey. As the elevator stopped he moved up to the door, pausing after they opened to turn and look at Stiles for a moment. “I’m Jackson.” He said quietly before turning and scurrying off into the dark storage level. The doors closed and Stiles put his hand on the circle.

“Derek Hale’s floor please?” He hoped this would take him all the way there. He really didn’t want to deal with any other werewolves right now because the fact that Jackson was so broke and treated so lowly had put him off of trusting the wolves just now. He was standing with his arms crossed when the elevator opened revealing he was almost next to Derek’s room. Sighing to himself Stiles walked in and headed to the bathroom, only to blush as he realized Matt was bouncing on Scott’s lap. “Oh… I’ll…” Stiles started to turn around.

“No.. join us Stiles.” Matt cooed as he clenched himself around Scott’s swollen cock, causing the wolf in question to moan aloud before nodding.

“Yeah… join us. The tub’s big enough.” Scott blushed. Stiles nodded before slipping in and washing himself up.

“That stuff you made was amazing.” Matt grinned as he turned around, still seated on Scott’s cock, causing Scott to whimper.

“Yeah. I figured Scott would still be unconscious after…” He blushed and sank a little in the tub as he tried not to think about the fact that he’d lubed up the hole that Scott was busy fucking now.

“I’m going to have to borrow some when he’s been extra good.” Matt smirked, causing Scott to blush along with Stiles.

“Matt I’m sure…” Scott started but a particularly strong thrust down of Matt’s hips silenced him.

“I know you liked it too lover, but I want to talk to Stiles for just a bit.” Matt grinned as Scott closed his lips, trying not to moan at how Matt was gyrating his hips. “How’d it go down with the guards?”

“They’re frustrated that I won the bet.” Stiles smirked, Matt’s eyebrow went up at that so Stiles continued. “I bet them if I could get them all off with my hands and completely satisfy them that they’d leave my ass alone. I won.” He smirked before leaning back in the water. “Hey have you ever run into any of the Triborn?” Stiles asked as Matt turned and looked at Scott who got a hard look on his face. “What?”

“Where’d you see a Triborn?” Scott asked, his hands holding Matt in place.

“Oh Jackson was being used in the locker room and I… what?” Scott and Matt were stairing at him. “What?”

“Who?”

“Jackson, the Triborn, he was in the locker room…”

“Triborn don’t have names Stiles.” Scott frowned.

“Oh don’t tell me you bought all that crap about them being stupid and subhuman. I’ll admit Jackson was timid, but he has a name and can talk and understand perfectly fine. I want to know why the werewolves are keeping other werewolves as slaves imply because they’re born from something called a Mech and… what?” Scott looked afraid as Isaac and Derek walked in.

“Out.” Derek said and the other three left leaving Stiles alone in the bath.

“Derek I…”

“No.” Derek sat down, naked in the tub. “You won’t ask about the Triborn, you won’t talk to the Triborn, you won’t talk to others about the Triborn.” Derek had a gravely serious face on.

“But..”

“No buts. They are off limits. I’ll tell Jackson he needs to avoid you.” Derek said as he started bathing.

“You knew they had names.” Stiles boggled, causing Derek to stop and sigh.

“Who do you think names them?” He looked at Stiles as he went back to washing himself.

“But if you name them… why?”

“Stiles, they’re off limits.” Derek growled out.

“Yeah… about that. I went into the woods looking for half a dead body with my best friend, and I tried to hide a bitten wolf from the royal family… I don’t think we’ve met properly. I’m Stiles Stilinski, I stick my nose where it absolutely doesn’t belong, and often get bruised in the process, but I don’t give up on something when I want to know the answer.” Stiles crossed his arms, looking stubborn as he watched Derek sigh and lean back in the tub, clearly never having deal with Stilinski level tenacity.

“If I answer some of your questions will you please leave it alone?” Derek sighed, his eyes looking weary.

“Maybe.” Stiles decided was the closest he could go towards saying yes outright.

“Stiles.”

“Fine.” Stiles sighed. “If you’ll tell me about them I’ll stop asking.” Stiles sulked in his end of the tub.

“It was an attempt to get away from taking humans as slaves.” Derek said after a pregnant silence had descended. Stiles was sure his eyes looked like they would fall right out of his skull the as wide as they felt. “We… we wanted to stop using humans as our slaves. So we built the Mechs. They’re synthetic humanoids, but the amount of time and production that goes into creating one of the Mechs is too high to mass produce. So we created a handful and decided that an in-between stage could be designed. We gave the Mechs the ability to bare biological children.” Derek looked at Stiles who’s jaw fell open. “So… we… I and some of the others working on the project, mated with the Mechs. They got pregnant and eventually bore children.” Derek looked away. “What was born was part machine, mostly biological, and born werewolves. But there was no way they were going to be accepted.” Derek sighed.

“Why?” Stiles’ voice was so small in the stillness.

“My father decided they were abominations…” Derek looked down.

“Did Peter…”

“Peter’s got a daughter who’s a Triborn.” Derek said quietly.

“Ah, so he was all for their being legitimate?” Derek nodded to Stiles’ question.

“It’s good to know he’s not a complete ass hole. I mean he’s pretty complete, but at least he wasn’t…”

“My father wanted them destroyed.” Derek said with out raising his gaze off of the water between them. The pause stretched on for a long time. “Peter was the one who insisted they be put below the slaves. So he circulated the rumors with the wolves and slaves that they were defective. But through our benevolence we weren’t just putting them down.” He said sullenly.

“Your child is still alive.” Stiles said quietly.

“No one knows. Not officially. Peter knows which one is his daughter, and I know which one is my son.” Derek looked haunted by that word. “I can never claim him, and he’s probably being treated like crap right now… I … I try not to think about it.” Derek looked away.

“But who…”

“Don’t ask.” Derek’s voice broke slightly as Stiles looked up and realized Derek’s eyes were utterly heart sick, and Stiles reached out, touching Derek’s arm gently, holding his gaze.

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Okay.”

True to his word Stiles dropped the topic of Jackson and the Triborns, and went to pondering how his bargain with Lydia was shaping up to get him his freedom. He was hoping to have the rest of the afternoon to himself, but that was short lived as a pair of guards showed up to collect him from Derek’s floor sometime in the afternoon. He recognized them as guys he’d jerked off earlier. They told Derek that Peter had requested Stiles for punishment for failing in his duties today. Derek asked the guards if he failed, and they reported that they were very pleased with their handling, they hadn’t fucked him, but they were very pleased. Derek wasn’t happy but with out causing a scene and going to his father, he didn’t have a real reason to stop what Peter was doing. So Stiles was in the Elevator with the Guards heading to Peter’s floor.

“So who told him you didn’t get to fuck me?” Stiles asked after a time.

“Not sure.” Boyd sighed. “I’m sorry about this.” He looked down at Stiles.

“I know big guy. You guys were amazingly gentle with me, and it wasn’t so bad as first times go.”

“Wait… that was… you’ve not… Lord Hale’s not…” The other guy gaped.

“Nope. 100% virgin except for my hands.” Stiles smiled as Boyd laughed.

“And they show it. Slutty hands.” Boyd commented with a smirk.

“Very slutty. You should see the things they get ahold of.” Stiles grinned. “Why just this morning they held on to a lot of big powerful dicks and fingered one slave’s ass.” Stiles could see the lump forming in Boyd’s pants.

“Keep talking like that and we may need to stop the elevator for a bit…” Boyd adjusted himself.

“Well, we might want to get to that before… you know.” Stiles gestured at the doors. “I’m sure he’s going to probably beat me black and blue and ruin my hole for anyone else.” Stiles said darkly as he crossed his arms.

“You belong to another. Your virginity is… a mater for Lord Hale to deal with, not his Uncle.” Boyd informed him.

“So, until Derek… no one else can?” Stiles frowned.

“Yep. Till the Prince has you, no one else is allowed….” Boyd licked his lips. “But you’d tell us the second he did, wouldn’t you?” He chewed on his lower lip looking at Stiles’ tight ass.

“As nice as you guys were this morning, sure.” Stiles shrugged. “If you’ll be as gentle with me back there, then I can learn to deal.” Stiles blushed. “Not like I get much say in the matter.” Both wolves frowned at that. Stiles looked up. “I know the party line. Slaves like having people decide for them who they get to have sex with. Yeah, no. I’m not going to lie to you. The idea of either of you entering me with out my say so fills me with dread. But having even a measure of control over it helps.” Stiles looked forward. “So let’s see what the Lord Marshal has dreamed up as my punishment. I should have known it’d come to this.” Stiles sighed.

“You’re not the typical slave…” Boyd finally commented.

“Nope. Not in the least. Hell the fates decreed I wasn’t supposed to be a slave.” Stiles crossed his arms.

“Then why…”

“Peter.” Stiles replied. “And in doing so he pissed the gods off so they made me supernatural just to spite him.” Stiles grinned. “So I’m curious how far they’re willing to go to get even with him…” Stiles looked thoughtful.

“Uh… the royals take that sort of thing very seriously.” Boyd pointed out.

“I have a test to find out what kind of supernatural I am now.” Stiles sighed. “But till then it’s naked slave duties.” He shrugged. “And we’re here…” He looked resolute before casting his eyes down, realizing he was trying to placate Peter when he first saw him, they each grabbed and arm to make it look even more like he was miserable. “thanks.” He said quietly as the door opened and he fought them a little.

“That’s it slave… struggle…” Peter grinned, laying on his sofa in a silk robe, two slaves sucking each other’s cocks on the table before him, and a male and female slave rutting together on the floor beside him. “I thought you would enjoy the spectacle.” He smirked, sipping his wine. “Come in, I’ll get to your punishment in a moment…” He looked to the pair on the table. “This is my favorite part.” Another slave walked in and slid his cock into the ass of the male on top on the table and began fucking him, forcing his dick down the throat of the male slave sucking on him.

Derek was sitting at his desk in his office on his floor, his touch screen desk sorting through files. He was growing angrier by the minute that there were no digital foot prints indicating that his sister was remotely pregnant before her death. He was in the middle of trying to decide what to look for next when Scott ducked his head in.

“Any word on Stiles?” He bit his lip.

“No.” Derek barked.

“Okay…” Scott frowned, looking at some of the files. “Why are you investigating Laura?” He looked up at Derek.

“Laura was pregnant when she was killed.” Derek growled at the desk top display.

“Wow…” Scott’s face went blank as he took that in before frowning. “Who was the dad?” Derek looked up at him in shock. “Well is she was pregnant then she kind of had to have a man in her life didn’t she?” Scott puzzled.

“I assumed she’d gone to the sperm bank and got an anonymous donor… but…” Derek reset parameters on his searches and began tracking his sister’s movements in the computer logs. His hopefully expression became muddied by confusion.

“What is it?” Scott came around the desk to look.

“Every day for months, she’d walk into this section of the palace and then vanish off the scans for two hours, then she’d reappear.” He frowned hard at the display.

“What’s down there?” Scott tilted his head looking at his master.

“Should just be storage.. but..” He started checking on who else was coming and going from the room and noticed a blank spot in the sensor logs that followed a very specific path. “Damn it.” Derek growled before typing in as series of complicated passwords till the sensors reset to give a digitized face of the person as they moved through the halls.

“That looks like…”

“One of the Triborn.” Derek sighed as he sat back in his chair. “That would be why the sensors in that area black out. Leave it to my sister to ask one of them to stand outside while she met her suitor to hide who he was.” Scott frowned.

“But that face… I’ve seen him around the palace…”

“I know which Triborn it is.” He closed his eyes. “I have to give him some orders anyways, might as well go down and talk to him about this.”

“But Triborn can’t talk…” Scott frowned before he let his mouth fall open realizing this was the one that Stiles had clearly talked to this morning. “That’s.. Jackson or what ever…” He motioned to the screen.

“Yep. That’d be Jackson. The Triborn that Stiles met. And apparently my sister’s insurance to keep the identity of her suitor a secret. I’m going down to storage to talk to him.” Derek stood, stopping as he noticed Scott still standing there looking at the computer.

“How much of what we hear in the palace is a lie about the Triborns?” Scott asked, still looking at Jackson’s face as he followed his path away from that room.

“Most of it Scott. Most of it.” Derek walked away to the elevator and got in. Scott simply stared at the display till he could feel tears welling up in his eyes, his shoulders slumping he walked back to his room, his mind blank as he tried not to think about this revelation about the Triborn. Matt wasn’t there just then, he’d probably tending to his duties else were in the palace while Scott was supposed to be seeing to Derek’s lunch. So no one was there to watch him sob quietly into his pillow as he let the emotions flood through him about things he could never tell anyone about.

Derek arrived in a cool dark room, the light from the elevator the only light in the room till he stepped out and the elevator closed, revealing a dimly lit room kept cold by the air conditioning and filled with the dull raspy echo of ventilators working diligently while the Triborn slept in their tubes. He was heading towards a data screen that was working a thousand times more programs then his had been upstairs, when a metal hand touched his shoulder.

“Lord Hale, I wasn’t aware of a pair bonding scheduled for today.” The female voice had a slight reverberation to it from the voice synthesizer in her throat. He turned and regarded the Mechs woman in her azure cloak, her face silver in the half light of the room, with the lines of where they’d put her face together but left it the ability to move to emote. Her azure colored eyes looked at him carefully, while the circuit patterns in her metal skin on her forehead processed data, lighting up as they did. “Or are you simply here because the passion has over taken you?” She gestured to the other half of the room where naked Mechs of every gender lay on beds, their legs spread to be used by any who came in.

“Not today Ezra.” Derek sighed. “I’m looking for Jackson.” He watched her face harden as she looked away.

“Why are you asking about Jackson?” She tried hard to appear impassive.

“You know he’s been leaving to do things other then his scheduled duties don’t you.” Derek stated.

“The boy should be allowed to live his own life.” She looked at him hard.

“The boy shouldn’t be roaming the halls.” Derek countered.

“The boy…”

“Your son.” She gave him a glare.

“My son should be allowed to go anywhere given his father is a noble.” She crossed her arms, a soft clink where the metal of her skin hit one another.

“Aaron Whitmore is a noble. His offspring with you is not. At least not while my father has you and him classified as abominations Ezra.” He sighed heavily.

“Even if Aaron loves me.” She held up her hand were an ornate white gold ring was on her ring finger.

“He didn’t…” Derek’s eyes got wide.

“Before he left last week.” She said dryly. “In case the King ever changes his mind, he wants me to know that he’ll officially recognize both me as his wife, and Jackson as our son.” She watched emotions war across Derek’s face.

“Tell no one about this.” Derek said softly. “It risks the King’s rage and I don’t want to see either of you die for this.”

“I’m not a fool Derek.” She sighed. “My son isn’t here.” She looked at an empty bed.

“Where is he Ezra?” Derek pressed.

“Where he goes every day at this hour.” She waved her hand over the consol and a hologram of the room where Laura used to go showed that Jackson was sitting inside it. “He goes there to think and to be alone. And to dream.” She sighed, before she noticed Derek’s frown. “Be gentle with him. I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but he’s been having a tough couple of weeks.” She turned away to go see to one of the Triborn who was stirring to wakefulness. Derek walked over to the elevator and gave the command to go to that corridor. A few minutes later Derek was standing outside the room trying to decide what to say. He opened the door and heard a whimper before Jackson appeared.

“My Lord.” Jackson said, his eyes down cast.

“Jackson, I need to talk to you.” Derek put a hand on the boy’s chin and raised it till the boy was looking at him. “I need you to stay away from Stiles.” Jackson gave a slight whine in the back of his throat, his eyes shining electric blue, as the nanite circuits under his skin flashed blue as well, indicating he was committing this to memory. Jackson nodded though and bit his bottom lip.

“My lord?” He asked as Derek started to pull away.

“Yes Jackson?”

“Should I stay away from Laura too? Is that why she’s not come to see me in two weeks?” Jackson looked worried.

“Come to...” Derek paused and looked at him.

“She said she had to go speak to someone in Beaconhills, about me I think… and then we could tell the King.” Jackson tilted his head.

“Tell the King what?” Derek frowned.

“That she’s carrying my pups.” Jackson smiled.

“She..” Derek’s jaw fell open. “I thought you couldn’t…” Derek glanced down with his eyes at Jackson’s hanging manhood.

“Apparently we can. She’s the only one I’ve ever… and she said we were the only ones…” He blushed looking away.

“My sister was indeed pregnant.” Derek sighed.

“Did something happen to the pups?” Jackson’s eyes got wide. “Is that why she hasn’t come see me?” Jackson whimpered.

“Jackson… oh Jackson.” Derek held the boy in his arms and rubbed his back. “Jackson she was murdered in the woods outside Beacon Hills two weeks ago. I only found out this morning she was even pregnant.” Derek held the boy as his body began to shake and he began to sob horribly. Derek held on to him, trying to sooth him till eventually the boy collapsed, unable to hold himself upright anymore.

“Mistress mine.” Danny appeared in Lydia’s chambers, stepping out of the shadows in the corner like it was a doorway.

“News?” She asked as she floated through the air like she was laying in a body of water.

“The Prince knows about the father’s role.” Danny said, his head bowed, his long ears framing his raven’s black hair, his right fist touching his bare left shoulder.

“Pieces move along the board ever so nicely.” Lydia smiled. “And the boy?”

“In the public chambers of the Lord Marshal.” Danny looked up at his mistress at that.

“Not the safest of places for one so important. But safe enough for now.” She pondered. “Any news about the newest of pieces on the board?” She looked at him directly, his eyes like dark oceans swirling into unfathomable depths.

“They are being driven to the edge of Hale land. Lord Deucalion has seen to their homes being burned, their families killed, and their lands confiscated. They are being driven out by search parties.” His eyes flickered in the darkness.

“Such a useful pawn he has been. To move the pieces into play for me.” She stretches. “Fae born wolves… such a useful tool.” She grinned. “Though I will have to dances ever so carefully on the knife’s edge with that one…” She frowned.

“Mistress mine?” Danny frowned.

“Gossamer wisps on ethereal winds… it’s nothing.” She shrugged.

“Yes Mistress.” Danny bowed again.

“Daniel, my Spriggan. I may have need of you to travel to the realms of an enemy.” She looked thoughtful, before pulling a cloak from the shadows and handing it to him. “You’ll need this where I am sending you.” He inspected the cloak and looked up at her.

“Mistress mine, who am I to seek out?”

“You seek the exiled Prince, or the fallen prince as some call him. He’ll stand out clearly to you. The only salamander in a village of ice fae.” She smirked. “Tell him the time has come for the things I left with him. And that we’re even if he returns them quickly.

“Yes Mistress mine.” Danny bowed, the cloak slipping around him as he faded into the darkness.

“Paths align and planets sign… almost time.” Lydia smiled happily as she went back to floating in mid air on her side, cooing to herself.

“I assume you understand why you’re here to be punished.” Peter looked up at Stiles after he’d bid the entertaining slaves he’d had fucking each other to leave.

“Because I didn’t allow the guards to enter me.” Stiles stood his ground.

“Correct little one. A self important slave must know his place and be shown why he belongs there.” Peter stood and glided up to Stiles, looking him up and down, smirking as he went. “I…”

“My lord.” Boyd spoke still looking a head.

“You’re not dismissed just yet. I’m going to need the two of you to help me with him.” Peter gave a feral smile.

“My lord, I interrupted because he did offer us his ass sir.” Peter’s smile faltered.

“He what?” Peter turned to Boyd and glared, his eyes going blue.

“It’s true my lord he did offer it.” The other guard confirmed.

“And you fools simply decided to pass up a prime ass such as this?” He roughly moved Stiles forward and bent him forward to thrust his ass out in front of the two guards. “I find that very hard to believe.” He chuckled.

“He offered sir. And we freely entered into a bet.” Boyd supplied.

“A wager was it. Oh, how sporting, and what did the slave want to bet with?” He’s eyes still glowing with barely suppressed rage.

“That he could get us off with just his hands and keep us satisfied, and in turn if he could achieve that, then we wouldn’t fuck him sir.” Boyd looked right at Peter.

“Oh how sporting, giving the poor stupid slave something he wasn’t supposed to have, I sent him to you to get him fucked so hard he couldn’t stand up right for a few days. Not time to sit and think about his life while you fucked his hands.” Peter started to shove two fingers into Stiles ass, and stopped as Boyd spoke again.

“My lord you shouldn’t…”

“YOU DARE TELL ME, A LORD, HIS PLACE, YOU-”

“Begging your pardon my lord, but the boy’s still a virgin, and owned by the Prince.” Peter had raised his fist and stopped, turning to look at Boyd like he’d grown a second head.

“Sala, is this true, is this slave still a virgin?” He looked up at the ceiling.

“Physical and metaphysical scans confirm that slave is in fact still a virgin at this time.” The voice chimed out.

“Guard you may have just put yourself back in my good graces.” Peter stood up and walked back to his chair. “The slave didn’t follow orders, but he was following the letter of the law.” Peter’s claws extended. “I have no choice but to clear him of this offense and send him back to my nephew. But do inform my nephew I will be inquiring as to the slave’s virginal status daily. And if he’s a slave for two more days and still a virgin, I’ll be with in my rights to choose as many males or females as I deem fit, to take him in the most public of fashions. Do so inform my dear nephew of this.” Peter pointed to the elevator, nearly growling at them as they grabbed Stiles and hurried over to the elevator and left.

“Okay… that… that was fucking close.” Boyd sighed.

“You guys didn’t have to…”

“If word got out that we staid silent while property belonging to the Prince was soiled with out his expressed permission, we’d be publicly whipped not to mention demoted. As much as we like you, we like not having to heal a layer or five of flesh back more.” The other guard muttered as they took Stiles back up to Derek’s floor and told Stiles to tell Derek the message, when he asked why they didn’t deliver it, they looked between them and simply answered no way, before closing the doors to the elevator and leaving quickly. Stiles stood there for a moment thinking about what had just happened.

‘Maybe the bargain is working…’ Stiles wondered to himself as he headed towards the bath only to find Isaac sucking on Derek’s cock as he all but rammed it down his throat. ‘And I’ll just go back to my room.’

“What?” Derek growled, as he glared at Stiles.

“Nothing. Peter suggests you take my cherry soon or he’ll have a legal precedent to throw me a public rape. So… yeah, there’s that. Don’t feel obligated to start now or anything…” Stiles was suddenly covered in the smell of fear before fleeing from the bathroom. Derek sighed as he pulled out of Isaac’s mouth.

“Do you fear me as much as he does?” Derek sighed.

“No. At least you’re being gentle. And.. I kind of like…” Isaac blushed.

“I’m glad.” Derek smiled. “This is tricky business, if I just take him with out his concent, he’ll resent me and if it turns out later I needed him to be a virgin for things to work out, then I’m screwed, but on the other hand I don’t want to leave it up to my uncle to decide who gets to rape him.” Derek sighed heavily, his head hanging low against his chest.

“Then maybe informed consent might be off the table…” Isaac shrugged. “We’re slaves. Sure he’s supernatural and in a short time he’ll be allowed clothing… but we’re slaves. Nothing’s going to change that. I’ll still be naked and getting taken by any wolf with a cock, and as a supernatural he’ll have some freedoms but he’ll still be a slave who has to submit to demands of others. I don’t know. Maybe you need to have a frank discussion with him about it.” Isaac blushed, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Are you happy here?” Derek looked at him, having never bothered to ask that of a slave before.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s better then at home. There’s regular meals, you don’t beat me like my dad did. And I have everyone on this floor to share my life with. Thinks could be a lot worse for me.” Isaac shrugged. “I can deal with the rest.”

“Good, because I’m going to need you to turn around and brace yourself. I have a feeling my foul mood isn’t going to break any time soon.”

“Here.” Matt laid a bundle down on Deaton’s table. “All the samples you asked for.” He looked around, afraid of what might happen.

“Any news?” He asked, as he opened the parcel to look at the vials with samples.

“He’s still a virgin.” Matt sighed. “And he’s had some sort of meeting with Lydia.” Matt crossed his arms.

“Interesting… I know what my stake in the boy is. I wonder what hers is…” Deaton pondered as he looked at a vial of blood. “Has he displayed any other powers?”

“Other then being able to not get properly punished for anything he does… no.” Matt snorted.

“Curious. Either his new found instincts haven’t immerged completely yet, or he needs to be put into life or death struggles to draw it out.”

“I’m not risking what I have with Scott to put Stiles’ life in danger.” Matt glared at Deaton, who hung his head, and then as the lights dimmed low, shouted in a loud booming voice as he lifted Matt my the throat.

“IF I DEEM IT YOU WILL SLIT THE SLAVE’S THROAT!” Deaton’s magic flared through him as he held the scared boy against the wall before dropping him. “Is that clear?” Deaton sat back down, not even bothering to look at the boy huddled on the floor.

“yes.” Matt whimpered.

“I’m sorry, did I hear something?” Deaton gave him a sharp look.

“Yes master.” Matt bowed, his face showing his disgust for this.

“Now, now Matthew.” Deaton opened a bottle and poured some of it on a rag. “You know what time it is.” Deaton smiled.

“Time to forget.” Matt looked afraid of the rag.

“Good boy.” Deaton’s hand shot out and covered Matt’s mouth and nose with the wet rag, forcing him to inhale the vapors from the liquids. All the while he chanted, causing the veins in his hands to glow white as he worked his magic. He draped the rag over the bundle that Matt had brought him. “All better, how are those migraines treating you Matthew?”

“Better. Thank you sir.” Matt smiled, glad that Deaton was helping him with the migraines he’d been having so frequently. He hoped they weren’t anything too serious. But thanking the druid for his help, Matt bowed and left.

“No Matthew… thank you.” Deaton held up a vial of blood, watching the magic in it pulse. “Your help’s been invaluable.” The druid smirked.

Stiles was laying on his bed trying not to think too much of anything when Isaac walked in, stopped in the doorway and blushed furiously as he tried not to look at Stiles. Stiles smiled at him and greeted him but Isaac didn’t talk for the longest time.

“You know he’s not just going to force himself on you, right?” Isaac asked, worry in his eyes.

“I know.” Stiles sighed. “I just… I wish…” Stiles rolled on his side.

“Wish what?” Isaac asked turning to look at Stiles’ back.

“I just wish this situation wasn’t this.” Stiles said slowly. “I mean… I’m not.. I never…” Stiles sighed. “I’ve never even thought about being with guys before.” Stiles looked at Isaac. “I never saw this situation coming and from what Deaton and Lydia says that’s because it wasn’t supposed to. But I’m here and I’d have ran away if I wasn’t sure it’d kill all of you in one way or another.” Stiles sighed.

“You staid so nothing would happen to us?” Isaac frowned. “But I thought…”

“Lydia covered for me.” Stiles shook his head. “I just met you and Matt, and I’ve known Derek maybe two weeks, and I’ve known Scott my entire life. And I’d rather die then be a slave Isaac. But I staid for the four of you, because despite how I feel about being a slave you four need me, and no mater how much or how little time I’ve known the lot of you, I care about your safety.” Stiles lay back down.

“Derek said you were afraid…” Isaac bit his lip.

“Of the sheer size of that thing he calls his penis.” Stiles snorted. “I’m not ‘ready’ yet. And if I had my way I’d never be ready. But… now there’s a time limit on it. I either get Derek to fuck me, and soon, which he won’t do unless I’m willing, or I let Peter pick out my rapists for me.” Stiles glared at the slanted ceiling.

“It’s not that bad.” Isaac blushed as Stiles looked right at him, arching and brow.

“You like it?” Stiles watched Isaac move.

“Over all, not sure yet. With Derek? It’s pretty good. He does this thing with his hips…” Isaac giggled a little as he blushed harder.

“Okay, will definitely have to ask him to do the thing with his hips.” Stiles nodded.

“You won’t be sorry.” Isaac vigorously nodded.

“So now I suppose I need to figure out how to get ready in just a couple days.” Stiles sighed.

“Well the Gods turned you supernatural to protect you.” Isaac pointed out.

“Yeah… and what worries me is I still don’t even know what kind of supernatural I am.”

“Well what I mean is, maybe they’ve already got a plan for this too.” Isaac shrugged.

“You have a point there.” Stiles nodded. “But some how I think there’s something a lot Darker then a God involved now…” Stiles frowned.

“Whatcha mean?” Isaac turned to him.

“Can’t put my finger on it… but it’s like this itch… that tells me something’s going on that I should know about… it’s… well it’s new. So I’m guessing its part of what ever supernatural creature I am.” Stiles shrugged with a sigh.

“Maybe it’s trying to reassure you?”

“No. I have a very bad feeling about this…” Stiles frowned hard at the ceiling’s flat even slant. “Something’s wrong here.”

Danny slipped out of the shadow of a large frost covered tree outside the gates of an ice covered city. He tried to slip through a shadow in the city only to keep coming out of the tree. He wiped some of the snow away with his black gloved hand and noticed it was a shadow oak, planted to capture all the shadows in town to prevent Spriggans from sneaking in. He’d have to walk the rest of the way on foot, clearly visible in his black cloths against all the white of the land.

Two hours later he turned a corner and noticed seven rows of guards all with spears pointed out at him in front of the door that would grant him access to the city. He approached and they took a step forward. He paused before stepping back and they did the same. Sighing to himself he decided he had indeed spent too much time around mortals, if these sorts of games tried his nerves so badly already. He put his hands up in the air.

“Daniel servant of her radiant splendor Lydia Martin sees out his royal Highness, crowned Prince of the Salamander Fae, keeper of the eternal flame, guardian of the first ember, envoy of the coming flame, and he who is beholden to Mistress Mine, Prince Alexander.” He shouted, using his fae voice, causing the windows in the near by town to rattle with the force of it. Might as well make yourself good and known in a town full of your enemies if they’ve already made it impossible for you to enter the town otherwise.

“You’re no fun anymore.” Came the simple cry with a sad sigh as a woman that seemed to be made of transparent ice, wrapped in lacey white ethereal gauze stepped out from behind the guards.

“Mistress Mine has charged me with retrieving things left for another day, I have no time for games.” Danny glared at her.

“Lover, is that any way to talk to me?” She pouted, her hair silver in the sun light.

“I am no lover of yours Irna.” Danny glared.

“No, no your love lays in the britches of men.” She sighed. “Men like my brother.” She smirked, as Danny’s cheeks pinked up. “I’m sure my brother would love to see you again…. in exchange for being allowed in the city.” She smirked.

“Irna, I have no time…”

“Daniel, we are fae, we are eternal, we are time personified. All we have is time.” She sighed as she rolled her eyes.

“And I am forced to deal with events transpiring in the mortal world.” Danny sighed.

“Ah that’s your problem.” She rolled her eyes and pulled a transparent bag from her belt, pouring its silver powder in her hands, she blew it out into the world and everything shimmered. “There Daniel, your precious human world is two days in the past, and you have two days to warm my brother’s bed sheets with that heated face of yours.” She smirked as she snapped her fingers, the guards moving to let Danny follow her.

“Irna I…”

“Not another word unless it’s about how much you can’t wait to get in my brother’s britches.” She warned, silver frost patterns forming on his lips. He glared at her and opened his mouth and blushed as he said.

“I do so enjoy riding the Prince’s swollen rod.” He covered his mouth.

“Much better.” Irna smirked as she kept walking to the palace, Danny in tow. She smirked at his silent glare as she lead him away from the main entrance and to a large silver door. She pushed it open, revealing a lavish bed in the center of a chamber that barely had room for the oversized bed. Atop it every shade of white, silver, and satin in pillows around a half naked male, his body like pale cream, his hair silver and short to his head, and as Irna opened the door, he opened his eyes revealing pools of sparkling blue silver. He was dressed much as she, in a white lace version of britches that left little of his body to the imagination.

“Sister mine, what do you mean by… Danny?” His eyes going wide.

“Daniel has come to grace your bed while I arrange a meeting with our other guest. Ion, do make our guest comfortable.” She snapped her fingers, Danny’s cloths simply falling off of his body as she walked away, closing the door.

“I’m sorry about Irna she…”

“I’ve longed for your cock in my throat.” Danny blushed as he spoke this with out meaning to.

“I see she’s charmed your lips as well.” Ion leaned in and kissed Danny, melting his sister’s spell off of his pert lips, before pulling back. “Now about what you meant to say?”

“I’m on a mission to speak to Prince Alexander, Mistress mine requires his aid.” Danny sighed. “Though… since your sister had given me two day’s time in the mortal realm… I don’t see the harm in… exploring the local delicacies..” Danny smirked as he dropped to his knees, his warm cheek rubbing against the Prince’s growing bulge.

“Since we have the time…” He commented, his own cloths dissolving like so much fog in the sun’s light.

“It’d be rude not to pay my respects…” Danny grinned, peppering the Prince’s shaft with warm kisses, capturing the bell end of the ivory and suckling on it as he looked up at Ion’s face.

“By the Gods I’ve missed you.” He panted.

“Sure it’s not just my mouth you’ve missed?” Danny pulled off to smirk up at him.

“Let’s find out…” Ion guided his cock back into Danny’s mouth before moaning, only then thinking to seal his room for sounds with a shaky wave of his hand.

Lydia was tending to a small crystal tree when she paused and sighed.

“Do you always have to do that?” She asked to the empty room, till eight eyes opened up in the wall, one high in the center, a row of five eyes in a downwards v shape, and then flanked below that was one eye on each side. They seemed to flow from midnight black to vibrant violet to an arctic blue closer to the center.

“You know I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” A distinctly male voice said as everything on the wall turned stark white.

“Yes well, I assume Alexander sent my items with you?” She turned to the eyes and regarded them coldly.

“Of course.” The voice said as the wall opened up to reveal a small chest. “With his blessings… my you’ve set the board rather nicely here.” The chest was pushed out into the room and the small area sealed up again.

“You want to know what I have planned don’t you?” She tilted her head.

“Not I fair lady. But the All Father does tend to want to know why you allowed the Hale prick to screw with fate.”

“Allow?” She tilted her head. “One does not allow a tornado to destroy an area, one simply moves out of its way so it can blow itself out. Lord Hale is playing a dangerous game, but he is not the only one playing.”

“The girl’s pups were worth more to the All Father’s plans.” The voice said, the eyes blinking at her.

“Yes. I know. At least I was able to shield the boy. And with any luck the other one will still be of use to us.”

“Then why did you need these back?” The eyes looked down at the chest.

“Because it’s time to set a larger game in motion, a game that requires the Lord Marshal to win a little with out winning at all.” She smiled, the chest opening as she approached. “Such a faithful servant.” She regarded the chest as a golden mask floated up out of it.

“THAT’S YOUR PLAN!?” All the eyes went wide.

“Oh you’re welcome to attend too.” She smirked as she picked up a silver flask out of the bottom of the chest.

“I’m not sure I would survive this sort of game…” The eyes tilted as if thinking.

“Oh survival is the name of the game. But I made a choice a long time ago to do this if this was the course of action open at this time.” She nodded to the golden mask. “And who doesn’t love a holiday.” She smirked.

“A Fae holiday that even the wolves celebrate…” The eyes seemed to question her.

“A holiday that can come on when ever I like, if one simply knows how to do it.” She smirked. “And we haven’t had one in years. For this specific reason.” She held up the mask and looked into it’s eyes. “Hoof and claw, wing and fin, the chase is on, they seek to win. Wild we were once, wild again, round and round till circle begin. Unfold the laws, the time is now, the hunt is upon us.” The mask vanished as off in the distance horns blared. She smirked as the male voice sighed.

“I think I will bow out now. I don’t want to be a party to what you’re about to do.” The wall returned to it’s normal coloring as the eyes began to close and vanish.

“Oh before you go. Do tell Daniel I require him back at some point before the horns announce what I’ve already done in the time after he left but before he arrives next.” She floated away.

“Yes Mistress.” The last eye faded out of existence.

“You wanted things to progress Lord Marshal. And you’ll get your way, just this once, and your going to live just long enough to regret it.”

Stiles was coming back from the kitchen when he noticed Isaac standing a few feet from his own bed frowning.

“What’s up?”

“Packages… just appeared on our beds… at the same time.” Isaac looked wary at the packages.

“EVERYONE OUT HERE NOW!” Derek shouted, holding his own package and everyone quickly ducked out into the main room. “What we have here is a rare magical holiday.” Derek sighed as he looked at each of them. “Each of you has a package that arrived. Inside is a costume, and a mask. When you dress, and put the mask on it’ll teleport you to a random location in the palace grounds. Using only your natural gifts you must find the person who’s costume matches yours and you belong to each other for the day.” Derek looked pained.

“This is the wild hunt.” Stiles frowned.

“Yes. The Fae and the Wolves and the Gods all play this. No one knows who controls it. But each package is randomly assigned. Do not share your costumes with one another. But, since Isaac and Stiles live in one room and Matt and Scott live in another, I don’t see the harm in you seeing what each other’s costumes look like. It’s not likely they match. But no mater who your match is, you are going to have sex with them. It’s part of the magic. No one will know till… after the hunt is completely over and every partner has found their matching half and consummated the hunt will the spell be over and you’ll be allowed to know who you’ve mated with.”

“So… I could get Peter, have a wild time with him… and I wouldn’t know till the day is over and every couple’s paired off?” Stiles clarified.

“Yes. It’s… a complicated and strange ritual. I’m not even sure anyone remembers why we practice it. But it is mandatory.” Stiles swallowed at that. “Right. Everyone go change, you’ll teleport as soon as you put your mask on.”

Matt and Scott slipped away, and were a little disappointed that they both had different colors. But talking it out they decided that they’d hear the stories the following day and then have make up sex after they found out who the other had ended up with.

Stiles walked back to his room with Isaac and opened his package, a little shocked when he found a flashy gold costume in his, while Isaac had a sapphire blue one in his package. They dressed in the full body suit that came with it and looked at each other.

“At least we don’t have to have sex together yet.” Stiles smiled.

“I wonder what Derek got.”

“Your luck, probably a matching blue one.” Stiles chuckled before pulling his sun disk mask out and putting it on, the room faded away and he found himself standing outside in a hedge maze, looking up at the brilliant open sky he suddenly realized he’d not really been outside in almost two days of being at the palace. He stretched and felt the sun on him as he looked around. Occasionally someone with a different colored suit would pop into being around him. But he closed his eyes and started following the first path that came to mind.

He kind of hoped that who ever he got paired with wasn’t Peter but was at least a better tracker then he was, because he wasn’t entirely sure he was anywhere close to where his matching color was. Stiles was walking a few more feet when he saw two blood red masked figures making out, both clearly female. He grinned and was glad that this thing didn’t discriminate. As much as he’d like to try sex with a woman, he was having the feeling that maybe he wanted to have a little variety this time. This was a no holds bared free for all. Who’s to say he wouldn’t fall in love and meet the man or woman of his dreams? Maybe this was how he was supposed to find the woman who would bare him his children he was supposed to bring into this world. Stiles smiled as he kept walking. Though the strange thing was, Stiles realized as he walked around, that he couldn’t tell who anyone was. Voices, body shapes, and even eye colors of everyone seemed to be altered by the magic of the hunt.

“No wonder he said we wouldn’t be able to tell who we were paired with.” Stiles wandered through the maze till he came to an opening in the hedge, discovering a large marble ledge. When he looked out over it he was in awe of the valley and all the ivory looking buildings that seemed to have an almost organic feel to them. In the center of the valley was a large circular structure that seemed to go deep into the ground if the hollowed out center was anything to go by. Stiles felt a pull in belly, that’s where he had to go. He blinked. He’d never felt that before, the surety that he’d find what he was looking for someplace. He walked down the steps, a grape colored masked man smiled as he waited on Stiles to move down the last of the very narrow steps.

“Lucky.” He said.

“I beg your pardon.”

“You’ve gotten the golden mask. You’re the promised couple.” He shook his head and smiled as he walked away.

“Promised couple?” Stiles called after him.

“The pair at the heart of this. You and the person you end up with are ordained by the Gods to mate, and they really wanted to ensure you two get together.” He smiled as he disappeared into the maze.

“Well I was wondering when they’d tip their hand again.” Stiles sighed. “So the person they want me to be with is in that thing… and they did this huge production just to get me with that person? Okay. I can appreciate a hint.” Stiles chuckled as he walked what felt like miles towards the edge of the massive marble structure that looked like it went forever down into the ground. Stiles swallowed and bit his lip. Just in the far distance, at the very bottom in the center of the circular hole, he could see a golden mask. “Just a few million steps between me and who ever you are…” Stiles grinned as he headed towards a wide set of stairs that would take him deeper into the structure. Stiles was staring to get a little tired of walking and decided to sit down for just a moment to rest.

“Might I make a suggestion?” A man in a black tree like mask asked as he came over. “Instead of walking everywhere, you can always use the elevators over there.” He pointed to a rounded tube like structure that ran like a column down each wall every so many feet.

“THIS PLACE HAS ELEVATORS TOO!” Stiles flopped back on the bench. “Why didn’t I NOTICE THAT!?” He shook his head.

“Well normally, it’s kind of frowned upon to help someone else find their match. But you’re the golden mask, so… we all kind of want you to make it there. Just put your forehead against the elevator, and it’ll take you down to the bottom level where your mate is waiting. They were probably drawn there by the magic already.”

“Yeah I saw the gold mask from up top. Thanks.” He smiled before pausing. “You seem so familiar.” He paused. “You wouldn’t be Scott would you?”

“No, no I wouldn’t be who ever this Scott person is. But I’m glad I could be of help Stiles.” The man turned a corner.

“Hey, how’d you…” He followed him only to find a dead end with no trace of the man. “know my name… okay that was fucking strange. I’ll have to ask the others about that later…” He shook his head and walked back to the elevator, taking a deep breath he put his forehead against the cold stone and the elevator opened up. Inside it looked just as ancient as the rest of this city structure did. But it seemed to move smoothly enough as he road the elevator down to the very bottom. He was busy chewing on his lower lip when the doors opened behind him, he’d been pacing on the long ride down. He turned around and caught sight of the tall male physique in the golden costume standing next to an alter.

“So not a girl then.” Stiles sighed to himself as he stepped out of the elevator. “I can do this.” His hands shook as he headed towards yet another fate.

Chapter Text

‘You can do this.’ Stiles swallowed as he walked away from the elevator and towards the man in the golden costume. He took in the large shoulders and frame, but it was when the man turned that Stiles felt his heart beat harder. He looked into those eyes, their color changed by the mask’s spell, and he felt home. For the first time in forever, he felt that he was home. He ran towards the other man, the pair of them shedding their golden vestments, their masks spelled on till the last couple found themselves. Meeting together, naked before the stone alter, the other man lifting Stiles with ease and laying him on the alter, his hard prick at the stranger’s lips as he was engulfed in a tight wet heat that seemed to want to swallow him alive. He felt fingers finding his tight embrace and prying him forth as he emptied himself wholly into the warm welcoming lips around his weeping prick.

Their bodies sang together, a song that seemed older then time itself, as if every life time in every age they had come together to sing this song, to dance this dance and to be with one another, no mater their forms nor genders, they were only whole together. Stiles could feel something pulling at the edge of his consciousness. An awareness of sorts of the other person, in the back of his mind, he felt something, a niche of sorts and in it a flame that was this other man, burning electric blue as the flame erupted into life. Stiles gripped the hair of the man blowing him and then the tongue was going lower, working into places he wasn’t aware you could even lick. He felt himself blush behind his mask, glad that it hid things like his blush. He gave himself into the feeling but looked down as the tongue left.

“Wha… oh.” Stiles blushed as the man put his own weeping cock at his tight entrance. “Um I’m supposed to wait…” Stiles said quietly.

“Well today waiting isn’t an option. Prince or Pauper. Everyone is giving and getting today.” The man said as he gave a feral grin, his hands steadying Stiles as he felt like he could bolt at any time. “And I mean to take what is offered.” The man slid home in Stiles, his body welcoming the intrusion as if it were nothing. And as the man went flush against his body, Stiles felt his very being rock with pleasure. His mind too consumed with his body’s reactions to notice they began one of the oldest of dances that two physical beings could do to one another. Stiles let himself revel in the pleasure of this man’s cock in his ass, already hoping that who ever it was, Derek would let him see him often. He wondered absently if it was one of the nobles, or if it was a slave. He knew it couldn’t be Peter. He’d know if it was Peter. At least he hoped it wasn’t Peter. But all thought was driven out of his head as the stranger sped up, battering his prostate with the swollen need of one who longed for the one they had with them. Stiles closed his eyes, devoting himself to his senses as the stranger picked up speed and strength.


An iron rod in the darkness.

A sphere of flames sitting on the open air above the iron in the darkness.

Was there darkness? Stiles’ mind was filled with this thought, barely feeling the pounding he was taking in his ass. He stood naked in this ancient place, the weathered stones smoothed with time, the only thing in the entire room an iron rod shoved into the stone floor. There were etched runes on the rod. He was sure they were like the runes on Lydia’s table. They seemed to glow from somewhere else deep inside them. Glowing orange and flowing up to the red hot tip of the rod that sat below the ball of flames. But as he watched he realized there were words in the flame, symbols, runes, several things he couldn’t make out. If he’d touch the rod he’d understand. He paused. Where had that thought come from? He pondered as he walked towards it, stopping as he hit a wall of air keeping him feet form the rod. He frowned, and began to stretch and try to touch it. He barely touched it, the runes he touched searing his flesh as a word reverberated through him, through the chamber, causing the sphere to shake.

“Umbrathorga!” Stiles screamed as he came, the spell drawn out of some deeper place in him creating shock waves across the land, as everyone’s masks vanished. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in that other place. But he realized that he knew everyone had found their mate and mated. That wasn’t what his spell had done. His spell had… done… something else? He paused and looked up at Derek’s shocked face. When’d Derek get here? Where’d the guy who was… Stiles looked down at where Derek’s very thick cock was still buried half way into his ass. Oh. Derek was fucking him. Oh. Oh… Oh? OH! Stiles’ face quickly turned bright red, realizing he’d been riding Derek’s cock for ages and had cum all over his chin from where he’d been cumming with out touching himself. He swallowed having to lick his dry lips, trying to find his voice.

“I…” Derek seemed frozen.

“Finish.” Stiles panted, wriggling himself around Derek, getting a moan from Derek’s throat. “You finish what you started right the hell now. And we’ll talk about this when you’re wearing pants and I’m hiding under a very thick blanket.” Stiles started thrusting himself along Derek’s rather hard cock, milking the werewolf lord as he looked up at the naked form in front of him. Derek took his cue and began thrusting right back into Stiles, meeting his trusts with his own, building up strength. Stiles reached down to stroke his cock and hissed as his fingers on his right hand touched himself. He held them up and realized they had fresh burn marks, matching the runes he’d touched. He looked up at Derek, seeing worry and lust filling his eyes, his hips started to slow. “Oh no you do not.” Stiles practically growled, speeding up, he’d make the prince cum if he had to fuck his ass down that cock and drag the cum out of his balls. He wasn’t entirely sure where this side of him was coming from, hoping it was just his mind trying not to think about the iron bar, the wall of air, or the ball of fire, Stiles threw himself into the first distraction that presented itself, it just happened to be Derek’s cock.

“You played a dangerous game.” Deaton stepped out of the shadows, his cloak around him.

“As are you.” Lydia said from where she was floating, the moon light on her pale flesh, her partner drained and passed out near by.

“The Wild Hunt?” Deaton questioned.

“A necessary evil.”

“To prove what we both suspected. That their bond is deeper.” Deaton looked down at the pair still fucking in front of everyone who were watching in awe.

“To get the first piece of the puzzle. And for once I don’t mind sharing with you.” She shrugged. “Only one race that walks this earth has a spell that uses that word.” She smirked.

“And what would that be?” Deaton frowned.

“The Djinn.” Lydia smirked as she floated away.

“Another fae.” Deaton accused.

“Oh but of course. The Gods are picking on you this time Emissary.” She smirked, pulling her robes out of the air and dressing.

“They wont always smile on you either witch.” He walked away, vanishing into the open hall.

“Such melodrama, all because he lost with out ever getting a chance.” She sighed as a man in a black tree like mask walked up and took the mask off.

“Mistress mine.” Danny bowed.

“You’ve done well Daniel.” She smiled, adjusting her cloths.

“Any message to my past self?”

“I do believe it’s time you fetch him from Ion’s bed chambers and make sure he arrives just in time to tell Stiles about the elevator please. Then come back here. We need to prepare. Things may well go pear shaped on us all too soon.” She paused. “And Daniel, you next you come to me, make sure you have silver root. I’ll be poisoned and dying.” She floated away.

“Of course Mistress mine.” Danny stood up, walking through a doorway in the shadow and coming out in Ion’s bed chamber, his past self lay naked on the bed moaning as Ion fucked into him slowly.

“Two of you… I didn’t think this day could get better…” Ion panted.

“Two…” Danny looked up ant noticed his older self. “Time to go?”

“Oh we have time to enjoy this.” Danny pulled his cloths off like they were no more then a puff of smoke obscuring his body, leaving himself utterly naked. Walking up behind Ion, he willed the frozen prince to be lubed and entered him, fucking the prince into him earlier self.

“Gods yes!” Ion moaned.

“There’s always time for this…” Danny grinned shoving in harder into the prince.

)0O0(

“So you ended up with Derek.” Scott sat down next to Stiles who hadn’t left his room in some time, wrapped head to toe in his blankets, hiding from the rest of the world. He simply nodded his head at Scott. “Was it bad?” Stiles shook his head no. “Did you like it?” Stiles nodded. “But you feel ashamed?” Stiles paused and shrugged. “You don’t know how you feel.” Scott concluded and Stiles sighed and nodded. Scott leaned against him and just held the Stiles sized bundle. After a long time Stiles finally uncovered his head.

“What’s this mean?” He bit his lip as he looked at the ground.

“You want the truth?” Scott said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Every time the wild hunt occurs it’s random. Matt got someone totally different this year then he did last time he went through one. And I know Derek did too. But Derek wasn’t gold last time. He wore this hazel colored mask. The colors usually change a little each time too. Unless you get gold.” Scott sighed. “When you get gold it means you and the other person have a bond. Something deep and fated.” Stiles let out a sob and Scott looked at him.

“Do you know what my fate was?” Scott shook his head. “I was supposed to never be a slave, find a wife, have kids, and lead Derek and the other wolves into a new age of prosperity and peace. Instead Peter fucked it all up by making me a slave by Derek’s hand, trying to screw fate in the ass and make me hate Derek for ever. The gods gave me magic to even the playing field. But apparently they’ve also decided my new fate is that Derek’s the love of my life.” Stiles hung his head.

“You’re still mad he messed up and enslaved you.” Scott nuzzled Stiles.

“Yes, no. Maybe. I mean. I don’t like being a slave. And sex with him is amazing. I see what Isaac likes about it. And I saw things while we were… together.” Stiles looked away.

“Things?”

“Magic things.” He held out his hand where the runes were burned into the tips of his fingers. “And I did a spell just as the masks vanished. I don’t even know what the spell was. I just.. cast it form some kind of memory deep inside.” Stiles held himself close.

“So magic.” Scott looked at Stiles’ fingers, able to see a faint glow of magic on the fingers as well as smell the iron he touched that burned him.

“Yep. While he and I were… in the middle.” Stiles blushed.

“Nothing wrong with sex Stiles.” Scott smiled.

“Right, so you’d be fine with Matt fucking you in front of everyone?” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve…never… I mean… we have… but not…” Scott sighed.

“You’re the top because you’re the wolf.” Stiles supplied.

“Yeah… I mean no… I…”

“He’s the slave and you’re kind of like his master.” Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder.

“When you said it like that I feel bad about it.” Scott frowned.

“Listen. I think Matt loves you, and you CLEARLY love him. And if it works for you both then let it work.” Stiles shrugged. “But if I was Matt. I can’t say I’d want to be the bottom every time.” Scott thought about that as he held Stiles.

“So.” Scott said after a long time.

“So.”

“Do you love him?” Scott felt Stiles stiffen under him.

“Maybe?” Stiles shrugged after a long time. “It was nice.” Scott snorted. “Okay it was way more then nice.” He swatted Scott’s nose.

“So go talk to him.” Scott nudged.

“Yeah. Hey Derek, I’m sorry I was so afraid of letting you fuck me with that monster cock of yours before, but hey, if it’s not too much trouble can I ride it every single day because I love it more then life itself and hey if we just make it to where I never get off of your cock then Peter can’t force me to have sex with every other man in the palace because we both know that now that Peter KNOWS I’m not a virgin he’s going to be keeping an eye on when Derek has fucked me and if anyone out of the hundreds of people who saw us fuck tells him then hey I probably wont see you for a few days because I’ll be busy getting so full of werewolf cock I can’t stand up or walk properly, oh and how’s your day going?” Stiles gave Scott a look.

“Okay, maybe not open with that.” Scott smiled.

“You’re hopeless.” Stiles swatted him. “Point is. I think this whole thing scares Derek more then me. And that’s going to take a lot on his part to over come and I don’t want to be the one who pushes first and ruins this by making it all too much and one of us running away.” Stiles sighed.

“You sure you haven’t talked to Derek yet?” Scott frowned.

“Why?”

“Because that’s the same reason he gave for me being the one to talk to you about all this first.” Scott laid his head in Stiles’ lap.

“Aww that’s so sweet.” Stiles smiled.

“I think I said something about him being a big baby and you being able to handle it. But then I walked in here and realized he’s right you did need someone to get you talking who hadn’t done you in front of a crowd.” Scott grinned up at Stiles who frowned at him. “But you’re right too. You guys both need to give each other space and think about things. But I’m right too.” Scott got a smug look on his face. “You both need to get over it and not let it or Peter stop a good thing.” Scott dodged the swat he knew was coming as Stiles looked at him like he was contemplating chasing him.

“Is Derek standing out there listening?” Stiles paused in mid step after standing up thinking.

“Yeah.” Scott relaxed.

“Oh.” Stiles blushed. “Derek come in here. Scott, go some where and do loud things so you can’t hear us.”

“Sure thing.” Scott smiled leaving as Derek walked in, a blush firmly in place as was his clothing, Stiles pulled his robe on if nothing else.

“You heard.”

“Yes.”

“You feel about the same?” Derek nodded.

“Gods I feel like an idiot for not realizing you could hear me.” Stiles sat back down blushing hard.

“Would it help if I apologized?” Derek bit his lip.

“For what? Being a werewolf? For having super hearing? For having an amazing cock? For being a talented lover? For making me wonder why I never realized I’d like it in my ass?” Stiles flailed a little.

“For complicating your life so much.” Derek grinned. “You think my cock’s amazing?”

“Shut your face.” Stiles huffed.

“You think my cock’s amazing.” Derek grinned.

“Well at least it lived up to all the hype, lord knows I’ve listened to Isaac go on and on for hours about how great you are at fucking…” Stiles stopped talking as he realized the look on Derek’s face had changed to one not so great. “fuck.” He said more to himself and stood up, and walked Derek over to his bed before sitting down again.

“You’re jealous that I have sex with Isaac.”

“Yeah. I am.” Stiles blushed.

“You don’t want me to have sex with Isaac anymore.” Derek frowned.

“Am I a horrible person if I say yes to that?” Stiles sighed. “I mean ideally, I’d be monogamous to you and expect the same from you. And we could move forward and this could become a thing and we’d just be happy.” Stiles leaned against Derek. “But I’m a slave, Peter’s basically said that once you pop my cherry he’s got a long list of people he wants to ride me. And isn’t likely to take no as any kind of actual answer.” Stiles sighed. “And while he’s making me be less then faithful… I can’t every well expect you to not go to Isaac and I can’t expect you to be okay with so many wolves and slaves having their way with me either.” Stiles frowned.

“But…”

“But, do I want you to stop sleeping with Isaac and only sleep with me… do I only want to sleep with you and no one else, yes. Yes to both of them. I want that very much right now. And that both scares me and pisses me off because I can’t have that. I just can’t. And before you go trying to apologize again, I don’t blame you. I’m actually over blaming you for it. I am however very much blaming Peter and thinking loud angry things at him.”

“I’ve made a mess of this.” Derek put his head in his hands.

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t know. And Peter clearly knew something. I’m more concerned with what and how he knew what he knew and why he’s so content to fuck something up if he knows it’s fated.” Stiles frowned.

“What?” Derek looked up at Stiles’ tone.

“Deaton told you about my fate, right?” Derek nodded. “Who told Peter?”

“Well Deaton wouldn’t have. He’s never trusted Peter.” Derek thought about it. “Laura was busy keeping her own secrets, she was pregnant with Jackson’s pups.” Stiles’ eyes got big. “I just found out she was going to go talk to someone in Beaconhills about the pups and was cut in half. So someone knew about Jackson’s pups and killed her for it.”

“There’s a large piece of this puzzle we’re just not understanding.” Stiles started bouncing his leg as he thought. “How’d you find out?”

“Lydia told me about the pups and I followed her movements and realized Jackson was spending a lot of time next to her and I went and talked to him and…”

“How’d you follow her movements?” Stiles frowned.

“Sala.” Derek pointed up to the LED lights in the wall. “Sala’s in every room of the palace, she’s also able to track biometrics across the entire complex, it keeps a completely list of where someone’s gone.”

“So you know about Lydia’s secret room then.” Stiles sighed.

“Secret room?”

“Yeah at the bottom of the stairs. She took me in there the night I tried to run away.”

“No, I wasn’t aware of a room there. It’s not on any floor plan.”

“Maybe she made the room, maybe it doesn’t exist there naturally. It… felt different.” Stiles shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just keep running?” Derek frowned.

“She said that you and Scott would die if I ran. I didn’t want either of you dying because of me so I agreed to…” Stiles put a hand over his mouth.

“Agreed to what?” Derek’s eyes went blue.

“I made a bargain with her. I’d get my freedom and I’d keep you from harm.” Stiles sighed.

“What exactly did she say?” Derek turned to look at Stiles fully. Stiles bit his lip and thought about it for a moment.

“A bargain is chosen and resign, your freedom and cloths shall be yours by my design. And no harm to prince and self, through any fault or help. Thy father to you wish to win, so thy fates I do amend. In this we agree and come to accord, the price to come you can afford.” Stiles quoted.

“So you get your freedom, your cloths, and your dad… what did she want?” Derek frowned.

“For me not to hurt you or myself, not to run away again.” Stiles shrugged.

“Why would she…” Derek frowned.

“Lord Hale.” Sala interrupted.

“Yes Sala?”

“You and Slave Stilinski are being summoned before your father, King Edward Hale. Over the mater of a spell being cast during the end of the wild hunt and the implications as to the origins of Slave Stilinski’s magic.” Sala reported.

“Okay Sala, we’ll be there.” Derek sighed.

“So… someone noticed the spell and knows what I am now. Goody.” Stiles started taking his robe off.

“Hopefully tonight you’ll have actual cloths. Something you bargained for with Lydia.” Derek’s eyes were still blue.

“Listen, if it meant getting to wear cloths, see my dad again, and not being a slave, I was perfectly fine in agreeing never to hurt you or myself again. And so far, she’s come through, so as much as she scares the crap out of me, I’m trusting her right now. She may be a Banshee, but she’s not lied to me so far, as far as I know.” Stiles amended as he stood up.

“I still don’t like it.” Derek gave a little growl.

“Tell you what, we go meet your dad, I find out what I am, and maybe later you, me, and Isaac can have a long talk about who gets to ride what parts of you.” Stiles smiled. “And if we work things out, maybe I’ll spend my last night naked in your bed instead of in here.” Stiles walked away.

“No fair teasing me like that before we go to meet my father.” Derek growled as he followed Stiles out of the room.

“All’s fair in love and sex games.” Stiles chirped as he stepped into the elevator.
“Fine.” Derek smirked before pinning Stiles to the wall trying to suck his soul out through his mouth as he gave him a soul scorching kiss all the way down in the elevator.

)0O0(

Lydia looked down at the box sitting on her table; she could sense Daniel’s energy all over the box and went to it. Knowing the entire time what it really was and also knowing that Daniel would be there shortly to save her. She went to the box and opened it, letting the poison spill out on her hand and acting for all the world like it was killing her. After all it wouldn’t do for the poor stupid druid to know he’d failed horribly and she was only mildly agitated. She even let herself fall to the ground hard enough to appear like she’d lost consciousness entirely. Her senses felt when the druid left her chamber, sensing his pleasure at having killed her, and she reached out a hand to Daniel as he applied the ointment and cure to her hand quickly.

“Something will have to be done about him.” She frowned. “Doing something so brash now? What on earth was he thinking he’d gain?” She shook her head and looked at Daniel. “While we’re puzzling that out, go to the Djinn.” Danny’s face showed his dislike of that idea. “I know.” She sighed. “I know I ask a lot of you and some of the other Fae think you are my whore I send to bed any nobleman whose pants I think you can get into.” She stroked his cheek. “But as my son you know I don’t look at you that way.” She smiled. “And I know with whom your heart lays. I need you to go there and do what’s needed to secure the tools to help Stiles. I wasn’t expecting him to be Djinn. I was hoping this was the reality where he was a Spriggan so I could have you tutor him. But apparently it is not.” She sighed.

“Mistress mine, your orders?” Danny looked into his mother’s eyes.

“Go to Calrg in the silver city and ask him to send the tools for training a new Djinn. He’s not the most trusting of sorts but he’ll give you what I seek. He and I have an understanding. I would caution you not to have anything to do with his children though. Especially not Caror. His… appetites are dangerous. His brother Andros though… might be amenable if you have to.” Lydia paused and studied Danny’s face. “Sleep with whom you have to, but be wary. Caror does not like me and will despise you on sight for being my blood. He will leave a mark on you if he can, and that mark will make your life ever so more difficult.” She kissed her son’s forehead before floating towards the door. “I must go play my part and wait for the pawns to be found in the woods.” She smirked, lowering herself to a slight hover and looking deeply weak and sickly. “Remember well Daniel, nothing is what it seems in our world.” She played with her voice till she sounded like she was near death and left her chambers. Danny gathered up a portion of the magic on the box, putting it in a bottle on his belt and closing up the green and purple energy before pulling his cloak tightly around himself and stepping through the shadows to where he was standing in a blood red hill over looking a deep ocean of silver. He walked towards the edge of the cliff and a giant green Djinn rose out of the water, his hands cupped, but as he stood, his hands coming to be open, palms up, and a city so much larger then the palace in the space of his hands. Danny started to walk forward and met a wall of energy. The giant green Djinn laughed at him as he glared up at it.

“You won’t get very far that way.” Danny looked back down and realized there was very naked, very pale looking blonde standing there, a blue gem on a silver chain around his neck.

“Andros.” Danny bowed.

“Golrartha is a clothing free zone Daniel.” Andros studied the Spriggan.

“To enter one must be nude?” Andros nodded to Danny. “Then I must abide by your laws.” He pulled his cloths off like they were a simple puff of smoke and walked through the barrier naked.

“Not my rules.” Andros made no game of staring at the Spriggan’s nude body.

“Calrg?” Danny frowned, what he could remember of the Djinn king he wasn’t so strict about nudity in his kingdom.

“Father… is not the one making the laws in our land now.” Andros marched off towards the central part of the city.

“Then who speaks for Golrartha?” Danny asked, following behind to stare at the tight bubble ass of the prince.

“Caror is our acting King.” Andros said with little inflection in his voice.

“But what…”

“It is my brother’s place to tell you these things.” Andros said, his voice calm and natural but his aura spiking with barely suppressed rage as his skin turned sky blue.

“Then I shall wait. I must speak to your father, but if he is away…”

“Father has been gone for nearly two decades.” Andros started walking again, not surprised when Danny kept stride with him.

“But surely someone would have told my Mistress…” Danny frowned.

“The Djinn do not talk of internal maters of state with outsiders freely. We trust your Mistress, but not all the company she keeps.” Andros never broke his stride.

“I see. What hornet’s nest have I walked blindly into.” Danny shook his head.

“A very deadly pit of vipers all seeking to devour.” Andros replied, still sky blue as he walked through the streets, past all manor of men, women, and children, each as naked as the next, some engaging in carnal acts as they passed. It seemed to take forever to walk to the central spire, a giant tower made of polished silver with gold moss growing on its sides.

“So this is who makes Gbalul laugh.” A lavender skinned Djinn sat naked atop the thrown, a green skinned woman suckling on his large throbbing member while an orange skinned Djinn woman offered him grapes from a plate that did nothing to hide her own nudity.

“Brother, Daniel has come seeking an audience with the King.” Andros bowed.

“Came looking for the old man and found me instead, probably put him off asking his favor then.” Caror chuckled in his deep voice as he ran his fist into the hair of the Djinn slowly sucking on his cock, forcing her to go faster as he looked at Danny. “Though the fact that you went a head and came this far means you must really want something.” Caror tilted his head, inspecting Danny up and down. “Though I suppose it doesn’t really mater, I should tell you no as a matter of principal whore.” He shrugged.

“I have business with your father.”

“Father’s gone. I’m the new King of the Djinn, whore.” He looked right at Danny’s unflinching face as he insulted him again.

“My Mistress requires the tools to instruct a new Djinn in the ways…”

“You are a dumb whore aren’t you.” Caror laughed. “I mean only a truly dumb whore would not know that a new Djinn is impossible.”

“Never the less…”

“Only two things in the cosmos can create a new Djinn whore. My father, who’s gone missing.”

“Brother.” Andros warned.

“I said missing and not dead.” Caror glared at his brother. “And the other is our God who made Father. Only they know the secrets of creating a new Djinn and with out them here, kind of hard to make a new one.”

“He was a mortal whose fate was subverted by a werewolf and was transformed into a new born Djinn. He’s conjured walls of light and a spell of warning.” Danny never blinked as he looked Caror in the eyes. “So I have come to humbly request the tools needed to train him in his craft.” Danny spoke calmly.

“Tools to teach a Djinn.” Caror smirked as he looked directly at Danny’s cock, ignoring his face entirely. “I’ll tell you what. My youngest son takes after your kind, preferring the company of men. I sold my oldest for such a trait, but he liked to be on bottom. My youngest likes to top. Let him enter manhood through you well used passage and I’ll consent to the training.” Caror smirked as he flicked his eyes up to Danny’s face. He could easily see the suppressed rage the Spriggan was hiding.

“What exactly would you have me do?” Danny finally replied.

“Down on all fours in front of me. Ass in the air, he’ll take care of the rest.” Caror smirked as Danny gave a curt nod and dropped to his knees, raising his ass in the air and his shoulders to the ground as a plum colored boy with long teal colored hair and golden eyes walked up, his cock large and swollen, and completely hairless as it swung back and forth. “Ernat, do be sure to show our guest a good time. He’s had many men between those shapely thighs of his. Don’t shame our family, too much.” Caror smirked as he put his hand on Danny’s chin, raising the Spriggan’s face up to meet his. “Here, let me lubricate you.” He flexed his power, sending it over and through Danny’s body till Danny was left with a very clear shudder at the pleasure that was his now well lubed and stretched anal passage.

Ernat lined his swollen rod against Danny’s opening and thrust in, knowing his father wouldn’t be happy unless he took the Spriggan with all the force he could muster. Bottoming out with every stroke he cherished his first feel of a man’s passage. Even knowing it was his father’s magic that embraced his cock and lubricated its way. Ernat was enjoying himself and with a slow angling of his member he knew Danny was enjoying himself as well.

“Is his ass as talented as the rumors say?” Caror smirked as he watched his son take the Spriggan’s ass.

“Yes father.” He moaned, his back arched as he barreled his way into Danny’s welcoming hole.

“I think I’ll test his hospitality at this end.. after all I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure of sucking off a king before. Unless you sucked on your fathers cock whore.” Caror smirked as he shoved his own thick rod into Danny’s open mouth. The pair of them fucked for what seemed like ages before their purple balls were empted into Danny’s tan body and they parted from him. “Pack your things Ernat, you’ll be going with Daniel to train and assess this new Djinn.” Caror dismissed them, turning to a tapestry after they’d left, which melted away revealing Ion standing there. “Now do you believe me that he’s a worthless slut?”

)0O0(

Stiles swallowed hard as they walked into the thrown room. In his short and adventurous time in the capital he hadn’t so much as set food into this cavernous room once. But now as he stood before the hematite throne carved to look like wolves sitting together for their alpha to sit upon them, with Derek’s father, King Edward Hale sitting atop the throne, while one identical to it but carved in a radiant moon stone sat Talia Hale, Queen of this territory, Alpha of this branch of the Hale Pack before her husband joined her as her mate and Alpha, and Derek’s mother. There were smaller thrones sat beside them but a few feet back. Each carved to look like a different piece of an ancient mountain, creating the look of a mountain range behind the king and queen. Six thrones made up the mountains, carved from what had been a single piece of labradorite they continued where the last one’s pattern left off, a rune carved into each signifying who sat where. At the end of the two sets of three thrones, there was each a delicately carved throne of rainbow moonstone. Beside one of these thrones there were a few chairs that seemed to be made of an expensive looking wood. Stiles knew the runes well enough.

Behind the King and Queen would be the thrones for their six children. He saw the runes for Derek and Laura’s seats behind their mother, and Cora’s seat behind her father. He wasn’t sure the name of the person who sat at the Queen’s right side but on the King’s left was Peter’s throne. He was seated upon his, just as Cora sat upon her own throne. Derek would have been on his but he was currently standing beside Stiles, a fact he was all too grateful for. Beside Peter were his children, their runes declaring the male heir Jacob and the female heir Malia. They seemed to regard him coolly. None of Derek’s other siblings were present, probably not in the capital just now. And what with Laura’s recent death her seat would remain empty as a reminder now. But it was the two small stools of wrought iron in front of the King and Queen, almost two full steps below them, which held Stiles’ attention for a second. Slightly in front of and to the left of the King sat Deaton. But the other stool was vacant. But something about it told Stiles this was where Lydia sat. At least it wouldn’t be a full inquisition; it wasn’t like Derek’s brothers were here to watch this. Joshua had his own territory now, and last he heard Braydon was out visiting him taking their youngest sister Sylvia with him. But where was Lydia?

Stiles looked around; turning back to notice there was now a blood stone alter a few feet in front of himself and Derek. He frowned, how had he missed something that fucking huge in the middle of the room before? He could see traces of magic around it, like a lingering heat haze and wondered if it’d always been there and was hidden by magic or if they’d used magic to make it appear. Either way, he didn’t like how the thing seemed big enough for a man to lay on. Oh god they’re not going to have Derek kill me are they? Stiles’ panic permeated his sent, causing Derek to hold his hand more surely. That little action calming him down more then he’d ever admit to. They were almost with in touching distance to the stone alter when the doors behind them opened again, and Lydia drifted in, looking as if she were on the verge of death.

He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew it was just an act and that she was perfectly okay. Stiles frowned at Lydia as she hovered in her mangled state as the King’s lips got tight before he spoke.

“What is the meaning of this Banshee.” King Edward spoke in a booming growl of a voice.

“I was attacked sire, before the message came for me to present myself to you. I was on my way to the healer.” Even her voice sounded broken.

“Who attacked you child?” Talia looked concerned but her eyes darting towards Deaton.

“Someone who will soon learn it is better to kill then it is to wound.” Lydia looked directly at Deaton as she said that, his face giving nothing away.

“Children need to squabble once in a while.” Peter chimed in as Edward had given a growl at Deaton’s back.

“And my Druid does not need to be trying to kill my Banshee. Least of all failing to do so and looking even more the fool.” Edward growled.

“My actions, though hypothetically called into question only, are my own.” Deaton said carefully. “She did not name me, and this is not the task we are assembled to discus.” Deaton’s words caused everyone to turn and face Stiles and Derek again.

“The Druid’s right. We’re here to talk about you two.” Edward glared at his son more then Stiles.

“And what is it you wish to discuss father that requires as full a council meeting as we can muster right now?” Derek asked calmly.

“Your actions during the end of the wild hunt.” Edward said evenly. “Namely you having the golden mask for the first time and it being with that slave.” He off handedly gestured to Stiles.

“I think your father is trying to say he’s a little taken aback by your choice of mates.” Talia said pointedly.

“You all know that the wolf does not choose his mate. They just are. Our fates were not thus before, but they are now.” Derek replied.

“Now’s not the time to quivil over what might have been…” Peter tried to hedge but Edward narrowed his eyes at his son.

“What do you mean it wasn’t your fate?” He looked hard at his son.

“He means your majesty, that originally they were fated to be friends and the human would remain free and lead your son into a golden age where he’d find his mate, marry, and the kingdom would prosper.” Deaton said, never taking his eyes off the pair. “But it would seem that since someone altered their fate, the Gods have done a great deal to amend the changes.” Deaton turned to face his King, looking him in the eyes.

“Are you suggesting a God turned him from mortal to… supernatural?” Edward sighed.

“I would say his use of magic during the hunt speaks for itself.” Deaton replied.

“Then prove it.” Edward shouted.

“So far the boy only seems to be able to perform magic when… his virtue was in peril.” Deaton’s voice wavered a little.

“Oh for fuck sake Edward, the boy’s got some power. I tried to take him on the road and he shot me away with a flash of light. Derek fucked him like a cheap whore…” Derek growled, his eyes flashing blue. “And he did a full blown spell. What ever he is he clearly needs a dick in his ass to get the job done.”

“Are you volunteering?” Talia asked, looking at her brother.

“Not that I don’t plan on it. But I don’t fancy looking the fool at court. Derek has done it once, he can do it again.” Peter smirked.

“What ever, can we get on with this, Derek disrobe and mount the boy.” Edward sighed.

“Father you…”

“Mount him. The sooner we can prove he’s not magical or supernatural or in any way mystical, we can get to the mater of disproving the mate bond rumors that the gold masks have put in place.” He growled, his eyes glowing blood red as he looked at his son, who sighed, and helped Stiles up on the alter. Stiles flushed as he was put on his back so he could look Derek in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Derek said softly, making it sound more like the movement of his cloths then his actual voice as he dropped his britches and aimed himself, after a few quick tugs, at Stiles’ back door. Sliding in easily, since Stiles still hadn’t dried up back there, he slid home, knocking Stiles’ consciousness out of him once more. He was back in that room, back near the wall of air. The runes were different though. He noticed they’d started leaking off the iron pole and were spreading across the floor like vines or roots. He touched a small part that had leaked under where the wall of air was and felt his eyes fill with liquid fire. This was right. This was what he was. He was fire and light and darkness and terrible pain for his enemies. He wasn’t sure what he mumbled but he came to, realizing Derek was cumming in him, his magic rippling through the air, he realized he’d almost fallen off the alter, having cracked it with the force of trying to stay on.

“I think that says a lot about their being mates.” Talia said, pointing to the runes that now decorated the alter, all of them saying mates in every known language, and a few that they guessed meant the same thing. Stiles looked at it and bit his lip. “So he was human at auction and now is not. What is he?” She asked, her eyes going red to try to see past his magics.

“He’s Djinn.” Lydia said with a smirk. “New born. Only capable of accessing spells while he’s… occupied.” She said tactfully as she looked back at the pair. “But his magic is most definitely Djinn.”

“Great. A neophyte Djinn who can’t control his powers… in my court… mated to my son… the day before the great union.” Edward growled, his eyes red and his fangs extending.

“Edward, this is a blessing. None of our children nor my siblings have captured a live Djinn for their court. I’m sure Lydia can see to his training.” She cast a knowing look at Lydia, knowing beyond a doubt the girl had probably arranged for tutors to arrive in and out of Bilskirnir with out being seen by a single wolf. The capitol was well guarded, by fae could come and go like mist if they chose. Silently she wondered if they hadn’t given her too much freedom.

“Yes my Queen.” Lydia bowed.

“Fine, have him able to do… something, that wont involve my son being naked at court again.” Edward dismissed them with a wave, Derek pulling up his trousers.

“His cloths father?” Derek said facing his father’s stony face.

“Lydia, go with them to the quarter master, find the boy something that wont make him too much of a danger to himself or us.” The king gave a wave of his hand, already grumbling about the coming dignitaries.

“A Djinn…” Jacob looked at his father.

“This could change everything.” Peter smirked at his son before looking back up at Stiles’ wiggling ass as he walked out of the room, wondering what it would take to get with in those thighs.

)0O0(

“Do you think we lost them?” Aiden spit up a little blood as he looked at his twin brother.

“Yeah… because Deucalion Hale is known for his ability to give up and stop pursuing things he things are his.” Ethan said, cursing under his breath as he bound his wound tighter, his side sliced open in the last attack by the guards Deucalion had sent from Nidavellir to try to take the two run away slaves back home. He’d realized what the twins were, born wolves and twins, born to a male slave of Deucalion’s harem men, and a female wolf slave to Kali’s harm of women. The siblings, Deucalion Hale and Kali Hale, were Talia’s siblings, and had an agreement between them. They would mate and pair their best and strongest harem members together to try to breed stronger and stronger slaves, the males always going to Deucalion and the females always going to Kali. But the harem slaves had fled to a village on the edge of Talia’s kingdom hoping that when the boys were strong enough they could make the journey across the boarder. But every year they never tried the journey and every year Deucalion made larger threats till he’d ultimately burned their village to the ground to smoke them out of the hole they were hiding in.

The city of Oakdale was no longer standing. The twins wondered absently what Deucalion would do for wood this winter. But they had more pressing concerns. They were heading for Oakridge, the village on Talia’s side of the forest valley. It had been a sister city to Oakdale for the whole time they stood but now, it, like the twins, were alone. Looking at each other they nodded, scenting the air to look for any trouble they silently groaned and got back to their feet. When disserting your kingdom and defecting to another one, you couldn’t afford to wait long in one place, not even to heal from still dripping wounds. They’d turned a bend in the valley, heading towards Oakridge when they were met by a phalanx of soldiers, they were about to fight till Aiden smacked his brother and pointed to the banner. Sighing with relive they both sagged to the ground. The blue flag with a black mountain range belonged to Talia and Edward’s people. They’d made it.

)0O0(

“Okay, can I just say how… insane it is… that we just had sex in front of your parents?” Stiles said once the elevator doors were closed.

“You do have an interesting take away from that ordeal.” Lydia said, barely hovering off the floor.

“I wasn’t going to ask in front of the King, but why are you faking it?” Stiles asked and Derek frowned looking at her before Lydia sighed and threw a hand wildly at Derek, causing him and the elevator to freeze.

“First off. I’m impressed you noticed.” Lydia smiled. “Second, never bring this up in front of the wolves. If they know we can fake how weak we are, they’ll increase the bindings on us. We’re slaves, not guests. And I don’t intend to ever be held tight enough that I can’t just walk out of here.” She looked at the wall for a moment. “Though that might be potientially problematic for you… pregnant men don’t do well on horses.”

“I’m not pregnant. And guys can’t…”

“Right. Sorry. Anyways, don’t bring this up in front of him again.” She moved her hand again and the lift went down a few floors and Derek was back in the position he had been in.

“He’s right Lydia, that was… insane that we just had to do that in front of my parents and my sister.” Derek sighed. “At least Laura didn’t have to watch. I can’t believe Peter brought both his children to view.”

“Such are the pains for royal weddings.” Lydia smirked.

“Weddings?” Stiles frowned as Derek was suddenly looking anywhere but him.

“Why yes, you do realize that was an act of witnessing the consummation of a bonded pair of mates in front of the royal court. You just got married, congratulations.” Lydia turned back to face the door.

“Did you KNOW I’d be getting married on my back?” Stiles glared at Derek.

“When I saw the alter I knew what was going on.” Derek finally confessed.

“Unbelievable. I loose my virginity, and get married all in one day and my father’s not even here to wish me luck.” Stiles crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, reeking of anger.

“How did you expect it to go?” Lydia tilted her head at him.

“I expected my father to be here for this. I mean… someone should give me away at least.” Stiles looked away.

“The property wanted circumstance?” Lydia blinked before floating out the now open doors towards a stout woman who was leading naked slaves through basic mending.

“What can I do you for lass?” The woman asked as she looked up from her mending.

“Ms. McCredie. I need silks, leather, and a bit of iron if you have them to spare. I have to make cloths for a new Fae born Djinn. And once it’s done I’d like a similar fashion for his full wardrobe.” Lydia smiled.

“Sure an it be done lass.” Ms. McCredie gave a loud whistle and one of her apprentices came running, taking down a list of what was needed and fetching it in quick order. Lydia laid the elements out, eyed Stiles slightly and waved her hand, he could see the magic moving from her into the fabrics and materials till they reshaped them to a custom fit looking costume for himself. Cloths by her design, oh that was a clever line to put in there. Stiles smirked at her and after the tailor looked over the designs quickly and had her lead girl copy down some figures quickly, the bundle was handed over to Stiles. He pulled on the leather vest, it would cover his abs at and flanks at least, but leave his upper chest and arms bare. It had tiny bits of iron forged into it that seemed to be making the cloths feel heavy and light at the same time. It was different, but it was the pants that caused Stiles to look at Lydia like she was evil. They were done in an arbian theme, allowing for a few minor changes. Glaring at her one more time for good measure he slide them up, his legs were covered by the red orange silk, but it stoped at his hips, held by an iron forged belt. Leaving his ass fully exposed, but on the front, it came down into a leather harness that fit around the base of his penis holding him tightly and thrusting his junk out towards the room obscenely making him look more well hung then he was. He looked up at her.

“Clothing doesn’t always mean covered.” She clarified before floating away.

“Do you feel better that your wearing something?” Derek asked quietly.

“I’m still not happy I’m married to you with out realizing it.” Stiles huffed over to the elevator and waited on Derek to get there.

“You do look nice…”

“Not talking to you.” Stiles turned around and faced the corner.

“Okay.” Derek stood and watched the doors close and went down in the elevator with Stiles. They’d went several floors before he pushed pause on the elevator’s actions, and spun Stiles around.

“I’m not… HURMPH!” Stiles shouted as Derek pinned him against the wall kissing him as if the only oxygen in the world was in Stiles’ lungs and he wanted it more then life itself. The hunger and passion melting Stiles’ resolve causing him to kiss back just as hungrily. When they finally parted, lips puffy from kissing, bodies heaving from the need of oxygen, they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry.” Derek said finally, looking at Stiles.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again.”

)0O0(

“Daniel.” Lydia said as she sat, perfectly fine in her room reading through an ancient book.

“The tool kit for training a new Djinn.” He moved revealing the Djinn standing behind him.

“Is another Djinn?” Lydia raised an eyebrow while still reading. “Curious creatures these Djinn. It sounds like we will have to bring Stiles into the fold.” She glanced up at her son.

“Yes Mistress Mine.” He bowed.

)0O0(

“Okay, having sex in public is now my favorite kink.” Stiles said when the elevator doors closed and the guards were on the other side of them.

“Yeah… that… yeah.” Derek panted, his cloths draped over his crotch to give him some dignity as Stiles stat there leaking slightly and his cock finally limp.

“You know we still need to talk living arrangements… do I still live with Isaac or do I move into that big bed we haven’t broken in yet?” Stiles grinned.

“There’s a lot we need to discuss. Living arrangement, house hold duties, and the coming dignitary responsibilities.” Derek sighed.

“Why does that sound like it worries you more then the talk we need to have about Isaac?” Stiles turned and looked at Derek.

“Because my whole family will be here for a week. And I’m the odd ball because I like humans.” Derek sighed.

“Lovely.” Stiles sighed.

“And any one of them might have been who killed Laura to keep her pregnancy under wraps.”

“Speaking of, we need to have a sit down with Jackson.”

“Yeah… before his dad comes here.”

“His… what?” Stiles glanced at Derek with a dark look.

“Aaron Whitmore, my uncle. His mom was from the Whitmore pack.. when she died, he got her land and became Breidablik.” Derek sighed. “He sired Jackson with Jackson’s mother… making him a Triborn. And… Jackson’s slave property. But… he’s the son of a King, and by all rights my cousin… so yeah. His father’s talking about legitimizing him. This means he’ll take the matter to the only force above my father capable of doing such a thing. He’s ready to take the entire thing to Grandfather’s council.”

“Your grandfather.. High King Lucas Hale?” Stiles paled.

“Yeah. Him. King of Hlidskjalf, master of the humans and wolves, high king of all kings. Yeah… we sent an invite to the gathering to him. But he’s not responded. He never comes to these things. But I know Ennis and Deucalion have both said yes. Kali is supposed to be on her way, Joshua should be bringing back the rest of our siblings by then. Peter’s been here for months from his own kingdom. Aaron’s coming. And there’s talk that Noshiko is bringing her daughter to court to look for a match. She is hoping one of us will fetch her daughter’s eye, and I’m more over happy that you’re my mate instead of Kira.” Derek shuddered. “I lucked out majorly.” He grinned.

“Oh I don’t know. You might sing a different tune when I mount your ass later.” Stiles grinned as he gave a heft of his deflated penis. “I’m not that small.” Derek made a face. “Oh don’t assume because I’m a human-fae and you’re the big bad wolf that you’re the only one with mounting privileges. I’m going to be loosing my damn virginity to you, all of it. So you better be prepared to take one for the team.” Stiles crossed his arms, and mentally tried not to giggle at the look of utter shock and fear written on Derek’s face.

“Can we hold off on that till after we survive my family’s visit?” Derek begged, his voice verging on groveling.

“Oh now you know I want to know why it’s so bad for you to bottom while they’re here.” Stiles looked Derek straight in the face, his undivided, apparent, attention focused in on Derek. In truth he was thinking of about forty things but he was willing to at least appear like he wasn’t.

“Kali only likes women.” Derek looked at the wall. “She thinks men are for breeding stalk only. But she has…a distaste and distrust of men who lay with other men.” He sighed heavily. “And Deucalion only sleeps with men, and thinks about the same of women and lesbians.” He closed his eyes. “Brother and sister and so dead set that the other one is a sexual abomination. The only thing they get alone with is their shared breeding program between the slaves to try to produce the biggest and best prized slaves between them.” Derek looked back at Stiles. “Then you have my Uncle Ennis. Grandfather’s favorite.”

“Wait… I thought your mom was his favorite, she got this sweet kingdom…” Stiles frowned.

“He likes mom and dad well enough… but…” Derek shrugged. “Ennis is the only werewolf born with magic.” Stiles’ eyes went wide. “He can conjure fire at will.” Ennis was sounding like someone to avoid suddenly. “He’s a nice enough guy, and I do like him. But the others don’t like that he’s the favorite. Then you the tension between Deucalion and Aaron. They hate each other. I think it’s mostly because Deucalion spent most of the last family meeting with Jackson’s lips around his cock.”

“Yeah… a father seeing his son used like that… yeah I can see why that’d piss him off.

“It’s also why he hasn’t been back here since, he’s not angry at Jackson, quite the opposite. He loves his son and would dote on him if he had the chance. It’s the fact that father not only allowed it, but tried to sell Jackson to Deucalion.”

“Oh gods this is going to be a major cluster fuck isn’t it.” Stiles sat back and hit his head against the wall.

“Then you have the news of Laura’s death… and her pregnancy… oh, and the fact that her alpha status was stolen… which means who ever gets it gets control over Niflheim."

“Wow…”

“And who ever controls Niflheim automatically gets control over Scott and Matt.” Derek sighed.

“Wait what…?”

“Scott is a beta. He’s also a bitten wolf, belonging to the alpha who takes Laura’s alpha status. Who ever becomes the King or Queen of Niflheim will own Scott and his mate. They’re a packaged deal because he’s a wolf. Once imprinted it’s against the law to separate mates.”

“Does Scott know that?” Stiles frowned.

“I’ve not bothered to tell him. Chances are he’ll be forty or fifty by the time someone can figure out how to put extracted alpha essence into a living wolf.”

“What do you mean…”

“The man who killed Laura was put to death, and the Essence drained form him. Stored in one of Peter’s alchemy jars. It’s the only way to save the Essence. But… once it’s stored, there’s no way to put it back into a living wolf yet. It… always goes wrong when we try. I know Peter’s turned Utgardar into his own personal walking laboratory to study alchemy and the lesser magics that he’s adept in. He can’t do true magic. Ennis is the only one of their generation to possess it. And Peter’s wicked jealous about that.”

“When is Peter not jealous?” Stiles scoffed.

“When he’s watching his enemies burn on the pyre.” Derek said coldly.

“Point taken.” Stiles frowned. “Okay side question, does this mean I can’t be fucked by him and anyone he chooses?” Stiles looked at Derek carefully.

“You’re protected now. He can’t command you to have sex with other people. You’re bound to me.” Derek blushed.

“Why does that sound like werewolf marriage equals me being faithful and you sleeping with who ever gives you a boner?” Stiles crossed his arms.

“Anyways we were talking about Laura and Scott…” Derek tried lamely to change the topic back.

“You can sleep around on me, and I get no say in it. Do I.” Stiles glared.

“If you want when we get to our floor, I’ll have Sala download a copy of the wedding laws to a tablet for you.” Derek caught Stiles’ frown. “Right, you wouldn’t know what those are.” He frowned. “I’ll have to show you when we get back to the floor.” Derek wondered what else he’d have to explain to Stiles. “Anyways. Back to Laura’s alphahood. She was murdered and the alpha in line behind her turned Scott and then died. Which Laura’s child dead, the seat belongs to the first minister of her country till grandfather appoints someone new or the Essence can be placed. And legally all that became part of her pack before the bottling and after belong to who ever gets her essence. So… Scott belongs to them. I’m just caring for him till then.” Derek sighed.

“So… long talk with Isaac about bed rooms, a long talk with Sala about marriage rights, a long talk with Scott about his status. Oh and a huge talk about a lot of things for us. We’re going to be spending a lot of time talking.” Stiles sighed.

“This has already been a new record for us.”

“Yeah I know. This long and one of us hasn’t tried to scream at the other one or have rampant messy sex to get out of having to talk.” Stiles sighed.

“It’ll get easier.”

“I hope so. I like you. But I kind of… I don’t know, expected to get to be the big spoon on my wedding night.” Stiles shrugged.

“Can you wait till after the gathering?”

“Why?”\

“Because if they smell that on me they’ll…”

“Hold on. Werewolves can smell if someone bottoms…” Stiles frowned hard before glaring. “So it’s perfectly fine if I’m at a party smelling like I’m your fucking post, but if they get a single whiff that maybe you treat me equal in the bedroom then what? The shit hits the fan?” Stiles yelled.

“And we’re back to screaming I see.” Derek sighed.

)0O0(

Stiles had huffed and went to his room to pout for a bit, still mad at Derek but not quite ready to admit he was getting over it when he noticed a pair of people standing in his room. And frowned. “Uh, I realize that I just got married, got pronounced a Djinn, and may be moving out… but when did Derek get two new slaves for this tiny room?” He frowned harder when they jumped and looked at him, both radiating fae magic. He was about to ask something else when the room froze. “They don’t know you’re here.” Stiles sighed, walking past them to lay down on his bed. “Someone’s going to have to teach me that nifty time stopping spell that you fae seem to be able to do but I have no clue what I’m doing with.” Stiles said bluntly.

“We are here to teach you in the ways of the fae.” The dark haired boy bowed, his body seemingly cloaked in more black material then Stiles had ever seen on a person.

“Oh good.” Stiles sighed. “Let’s start with time reversal, because I liked that trick, and something tells me I want to be able to do it often with my mouth.” Stiles sat up and grinned.

“We will come to that soon enough. Our first lesson will be to greet your instructor.” The dark robed man stood back revealing a fair skinned boy with amber eyes and teal hair, dressed in purple robes. He bowed and Stiles bowed back.

{I am Ernat, second son to Caror, First son to Calrg, heir to the throne of the Djinn, tasked with the training of you, oh new born Djinn.} Ernat said, but Stiles wasn’t sure how he said it. It was like a flame flickering in the wind in his mind, and the flickers had spelled out the phrase. The darkly dressed man gave no indication he’d heard Ernat speak. Stiles started to speak and realized Ernat hadn’t moved his lips when he spoke. Picturing the same candle in his mind he whispered into the flame.

{I am Stiles, Only son of John, Only son of Carl, Husband to Derek, Second Son of Edward, Only son of Gerad.} Stiles panted, it was a little hard to get it out but once he started it just kept pouring out of him.

“Very well done Stiles son of John. Not everyone learns fire tongue so quickly.” Ernat said normally.

“Fire tongue?” Stiles frowned.

“It’s how the Djinn talk. It’s their native tongue.” The dark one spoke as he crossed his arms, clearly at odds about something.

{What’s his problem?} Stiles gave a semi pointed look at the dark robes and wondered who he was.

“Do introduce yourself to our student.” Ernat prompted his companion.

“I am Daniel Blackleaf. You may call my Danny. I’m Heir to the house of Blackleaf, Prince of the Spriggans and Banshee.” Danny crossed his arms.

“How can you be heir to two kinds of fae?” Stiles frowned, and watched as Danny blushed.

“His mother… has not taken another fae, let alone a Banshee to her bed since she’s come here. If she does and produces a pure blood heir the Banshees will take them as their heir.” Ernat said pleasantly.

“Came… here…” Stiles frowned. “Lydia’s your mom? She’s no where old enough to be your mother… unless.. faes age in strange ways...?” He looked at Ernat with a questioning look.

“Many Fae age at different rate. But the Banshee are immortals. They are also immune to time.”

“That explains a few things.” Stiles frowned and then looked at Danny. “So why is it that a Spriggan/Banshee, and a Djinn have come to teach me how to be Fae?” Stiles asked carefully.

“Because mistress mine requires you to learn the rules and hide yourself accordingly.” Danny crossed his arms again and glared. Stiles snorted and got up off the bed, causing Danny and Ernat to follow him. He walked into the frozen kitchen and made himself something to eat. They watched curiously.

“Sorry, low on carbs, and I’m not about to start into a lengthily discussion on why I’m not following anyone’s rules but my own on an empty stomach.” The other pair shared a look and Ernat cautioned against what ever Danny was planning. He moved swiftly to Stiles to try to strike him, but Stiles’ rune scared hand darted out and grabbed Danny’s wrist. Danny’s magic flared black and hot around him, but Stiles’ grip just got tighter till Danny relented, a little pained. But his victory was short lived when Stiles dropped to his knees in pain, the burned runes multiplying across his hand leaving more, and now freshly burned runes upon his palm, as the runes had wound their way around his finger and onto the back of his hand.

Stiles looked up, his eyes like molten gold as he growled at the pair of fae in front of him. How DARE THEY. HURT HIM!? THAT WAS UNTHINKABLE! He stood up, his skin going black while the rules on his hand went pure gold.

{TO STRIKE ME IS TO KNOW MY WRATH CHILD!} He bellowed, knocking Danny to his knees before picking him up by the throat. His hair began to bleed into white as the told runes began to intertwine around his hand, seemingly etched into him. {You will know pain before I’m…} Stiles collapsed, his body normal, except for the detailed henna tattoo of runes across his hand. He was breathing shallow, his body still.

“What was that?” Danny looked at Ernat.

“That was something unforeseen.” Ernat produced a bundle out of the air and a puff of purple flames. “He shouldn’t have been able to do that.” He unrolled the bundle producing all manor of odd instruments. He began inspecting the tattoo and gasped when he sat back.

“What is it?”

“He’s got the king’s hand.” He held up the hand, barely touching it and a single new letter formed in the tattoo.

“What the hell…”

“He has the gift that only my grandfather’s ever shown. The ability to absorb fae magic from any fae and bind it into Djinn magic to fuel his power. Your little stunt to make him mind, though short lived as it was, was enough to fuel that transformation and his strength and speed.” Ernat took out bandages and began binding Stiles’ hand, lettering glowing a faint purple formed outside the bandage holding it in place. “I can heal him, and maybe get him conscious again in a little while.. but..” He shook his head. “That power is now apart of him.” He looked up at Danny who had sagged back to his knees and was looking sweaty and winded. “How about you?” He slid over and began exaimining Danny.

“I can’t seem to catch my breathing…” He panted.

“He was taking more energy when he grabbed your neck.” He tilted Danny’s head back to reveal the burn marks in the shape of a hand on his throat. “Spriggans are wood and shadow magic. Djinn are all light and flames. You’ll be extra tasty to him, and take extra damage every time he feeds on you. Do try not to touch him.” Ernat pulled out bottles and began to treat the burns.

“I’ve never felt anything like it…” Danny’s face was flushed.

“Grandfather used it on me in my draining. I know the feeling well. I’ve seen him kill an enemy with it before.” Ernat shook his head.

“When?”

“Salamanders… decided that Djinn were lesser fire spirits and belonged to them.” He smiled. “They sent an assassin. He plunged a dagger in grandfather’s chest. Grandfather put a single finger on the man’s forehead, the man screamed, his entire body engulfed in flames, and when they died down, the cause of death was a dagger wound to the chest.” He looked pointedly at Danny.

“He transferred the wound…” Danny was amazed.

“Yes. He did.” Ernat pulled off Danny’s right glove to reveal scars across his hand that looked like he’d been holding onto something burning hot for too long.

“I didn’t even…” Danny panted.

“You wouldn’t. Not for some time. But when you do feel it. It’ll be like you’re soul is burning out of you.” He handed a small vial to Danny. “You feel the slightest bit of pain in that, you down that whole bottle.” He looked Danny carefully in the eye. “That kind of magic can burn you to death. I doubt your father would survive it. You might because of your mother’s blood. Banshees are mist and fog spirits. They have water and air in them in a way that is unnatural to my kind. So your nature should allow you to heal fire wounds faster then your father dare dream of.”

“He’ll be pleased to know that their coupling produced a stronger Spriggan.” Danny said coldly.

“From what I know of Micheal Blackleaf… very little could make him happy.” Ernat said pointedly.

“Then you know father well.” He looked at Stiles. “What do we tell mistress mine?” Danny asked.

“That the training has started. And that he’ll be a powerful ally but that she should be cautious not to touch him.” Ernat said honestly. “Don’t tell her why. Just say he has some Djinn traits that make him dangerous to touch.” Ernat pulled out a crystal ball and put it in Stiles’ hand. Runes etched into the glass, inlaid in gold. “I think we can safely say he’s a gold flame.” Ernat sighed.

“What’s so bad about that?” Danny frowned again.

“Five flames to the Djinn do we decree. Purple Djinn to rule. Blue to enforce. Red to the task of crafting bend. And Green the lowest to serve all.” Ernat said carefully.

“That’s only four.”

“But Gold flames we grant unto only the most rare of the Djinn, for they are meant to be archons of great magic, and above those of purple flame.” Ernat sighed. “We can never tell my father about this.” He sat back and put the orb in a pocket of his purple robes. “If he finds out a new gold flame has arisen, he’ll have Stiles killed before he can master his power. By every right Stiles has more claim to the throne of the Djinn then my father or uncle.”

“This child just seems to keep getting himself in trouble.” Danny shook his head.

“We did luck out on one thing at least.” Ernat blushed.

“What’s that?” Danny quirked an eyebrow.

“He’s a harem djinn.”

“A what?” Danny blinked.

“Right. You…” Ernat blushed harder. “There are casts. Different kind of djinn beyond our flame color. I’m a Ghul Djinn. One gifted with the longing to work and be put to use. Harem Djinn… well their power comes out the most when they’re…” He blushed harder.

“Having sex?” Danny hazard a guess.

“It’s where legends of incubi and succubi come from.” Ernat nodded. “It’s not unheard of for the blues to be Harem Djinn. But… a gold? It’s the first I’ve heard of one.” Ernat frowned.

“Rarest of the rare. This one will be trouble all around, mark my words.” Danny struggled to his feet.

“Trouble and then some.” Ernat nodded, helping Danny to stand fully before snapping his fingers and levitating Stiles into where his bed is. He wrote a message in fire runes in the air, so that only the Djinn would see them, and once he read them they’d vanish, before taking Danny’s hand and walking him through a patch of light into Lydia’s chambers. They explained what they could and that Danny needed to rest and heal. She showed him how to open Danny’s room off of her’s and watched as he took her son inside. Shaking her head she wondered if Daniel had any idea of how much danger he was now in.

)0O0(

Delan looked over the two twins who’d been brought to his village. He’d been the Druid who tended to the boarder, allowing soldiers and the king’s men to have someone so far out to treated them when they were injured away from the capitol. It was said he was older then even the elders of the village who could remember him being a young man all their lives. Now he looked barely old enough to say he was in his mid twenties. But wearing only his black leather kilt and black shawl he was an impressive specimen of man. He held a ring covered hand to his scruffy face and studied them for a long time. Before finally telling the village to bring them to his hut.

Once inside only Delan and his latest apprentice and paramour stood in the room with the twin wolves. Brice was eighteen years old and had been sold to Delan a year ago when he’d taken a fancy to the boy. Only five foot ten, his rich colored skin belied his Asian heritage. He was told his mother had been Mexican. A year of hard work and brutal sex with the village druid had left Brice hard of muscle and utterly subservient to Delan’s wishes. The boy was clothed in a kilt of blue leather and a blood hooded shawl. Leaving his bare midsection open to view, and touching, as Delan was oft to do now and again while thinking.

“Brice, prepare the baths. Our guests need to get cleaned up, and I need to brew potions for them to bathe in.” He gestured to an obsidian slate on the desk, and Brice looked at the twins before fetching it. “They’ll have to get used to such things.” Delan put his hand on it and the side he’d touched lit up, displaying row upon row of little symbols. He licked on one and scrolled through several pages inside the device before finding what he needed. “Gather enough herbs for two.” He handed the device to Brice who nodded and fetched pen and paper to make a list.

“You have technology?” Aiden asked, frowning.

“You think it strange a druid on the cusp of the civilized wild would have technology?”

“I’m shocked the wolves let you keep it.” Aiden frowned as Delan snorted.

“Keep it? Who do you think gave it to me? It’s part of my payment for staying here and putting up with the villagers.” Delan smiled as he reached over and stroked Brice’s ass. “Though there are other benefits.” The boy blushed before bowing to his master and leaving with his list.

“How do you power it out here… there’s no…” Delan pointed to a set of roots coming from the ceiling. He pulled one and revealed it really a wire. “Solar power on the roof. Keeps the place as charged as I need it for my needs. I’ve been collecting and adding data to this book for a long time. Preparing for the day you two unfortunates would show up.”

“You couldn’t have…” Ethan started but Delan pulled a curtain away and revealed a drawing on the wall of the pair of them standing just as they were, as if they looked into a mirror. “I’ve had forty years to know you were coming and prepare.” He smirked. “So trust me when I say I get what watching your parents die and your village burn has done to you, but I don’t have time to coddle you. A lot of shit is about to happen boys. And you’re my insurance policy that an old friend and an older debt are paid.”

“What debt?” Aiden looked affronted that the man was talking like they’d help him with out being asked.

“A long time ago, an old friend set me up with this life I have now.” He smirked. “And I promised that when the pair of you showed up, I’d give him what he needed to survive what was coming for him. And also keep the pair of you alive.” He looked up at a dream catcher as it turned black. “Damn. I am taking too long.” He turned back to them. “Strip. We don’t have time to explain. I have to make you smell like you’re the town sluts, and I only know of one way to do that.” He moved to a spare room on his shack and slapped a couple of white tubs sitting side beside. As he did, unseen tattoos on his arms flared gold before the fires under them burst into life. The water in them began to warm slowly. “Ready Brice?” Brice nodded as he came back in with the bags of herbs and started pouring them into the two baths, measuring out exact amounts, and looking up at the twins, seemingly measuring them against numbers in his head.

“I’m sorry, but what are you…” Aiden started.

“I said, naked.” Delan snapped his fingers and their ragged cloths fell to pieces around them. “Now get into the baths. You are going to want for them when the village starts in doing their part to help you boys out.”

“Why would they help us out?” Ethan frowned.

“Because there’s not a soul for 50 miles of this hut that doesn’t owe me their life and the life of their entire family. And the chance to pay that life debt back… oh you better believe they’ll be lining up to help me.” He smirked.

“But why do we have to smell like sluts?” Aiden sulked as he sank into the nice bath.

“Because when Deucalion’s men get here, they’ll be sniffing out two run aways. They won’t even bother with the town whores. Assuming the two of you have been here too long for you to be the run aways. And it’ll sell King Edward’s word that you’re wards of the state when Deucalion demands you back.” Delan tested the water, bringing a bit up to sniff. “More of the silver leaf, they’re virgins Brice.” Brice’s eyes went wide as he looked at the twins and swallowed before adding what his master had said.

“What’s it matter if we’re virgins?” Aiden blushed, his hands going to cover himself as the stranger inspected them.

“Just wanted to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as possible.” He shrugged. Twenty minutes later he drained the tubs and gave them loose robes to wear before escorting them to the local inn, where half the town, the male half, seemed to be gathered, leering at them. They were almost in the backroom when Ethan whimpered and Aiden turned to look when he felt it too. His eyes went wide as he started moaning, his leg running hot with slick as his ass loosened and began to lubricate. They’d gone into heat only once before. And their parents had given them toys to occupy themselves till it passed, but they weren’t due for some time to have another one. He glanced at the druid. “All part of the plan. Just enjoy.” He smiled as he lead the boys to a room with two large feather beds and silk sheets. “And remember, just because a man coos soft words into your ear as he’s taking you from behind, doesn’t mean he’s ever leaving his wife’s bed forever.” With that the druid left and the first of the town’s men came in, freeing themselves from their britches and entering the horny young bitches in heat who were now offering their asses for the taking, begging the men to take them hard.

“Do you think this is wise master?” Brice asked cautiously while they were outside, his master smoking from a pipe.

“Wise? No. I think it’s foolish and brash. But Deucalion has grown too big for his britches and the war he has planned with those boys at the head of his army will decimate this realm. I came here to get away from a war. Not watch a new one spring up around me.” Delan sighed. “But it seems a great many wars are coming this way.” He pointed to the grey clouds forming in the distance. “A storm is coming, and I worry we’ll all be caught in it.” He took off walking towards his hut.

“Master…?” Brice asked with a blush, his eyes downcast.

“You’ll get your turn with them soon enough. For now, you have your own dragons to slay.” He smirked, gripping himself through the leather kilt and Brice flushed. “No on home and get yourself ready. I mean to start the second I get in, and not stop till I’m good and ready.” The boy nodded and took off. “Humans.” He shook his head and looked up at the sky again and sighed. “I’ll have to smack my idiot son for this later.” His hand turned gold with black markings as he drew a symbol in gold magic in the air before his hand returned to normal. Far too much attention was being drawn to the capitol just now. If he could keep them looking for the boys with out ever noticing them, maybe they wouldn’t have time for the boy at the center of this mess.

“You always did love a cross road of confluences.” He shook his head and emptied out his pipe before shedding his shawl, and dropping his kilt at the door, finding Brice loose and wet bent over the sofa arm waiting for his master. “Good boy.” He smirked as he slide home. “Good boy.”

Chapter Text

Later that day Stiles awoke, looking up at the note above his bed.

{Be careful, don’t touch magical beings unless you want to show off your magic, especially Lydia or Danny. I’ll be back to teach you a little bit of magic to show off at court tomorrow as soon as I know Danny’s safe.}

The fire note burned itself out and Stiles gingerly got up, removing the wrappings around his hand that had been reduced to ashes in his sleep. He walked to the bathroom and was washing in one of the middle sized tubs when Isaac came in and slipped into one of the lower tubs. Stiles sighed and leaned over the edge of his tub to look at Isaac.

“You realize I’m not mad at you right?” Stiles studied Isaac’s pink face.

“I know. I just… he’s your husband now… and I liked…. But I can’t..” Isaac looked away.

“It’s okay to like it. I was perfectly fine with you sleeping with him before. I’m okay with what has happened, but future dalliances, that’s a whole other story. In fact he and I had a little fight about how legally I’m now allowed to sleep with anyone but him from now on and he’s basically allowed to plow every one in the world and I just have to accept it. Though I’m not sure that’s entirely the case now.” Stiles smirked as he looked at his tattooed hand. “At any rate, we’ll find you someone who’s nice like Derek who will work for you. Who’d you end up with in the Wild Hunt?”

“One of the guards.” Isaac blushed. “Well… two of the guards… They were already going together when they spotted me and realized I had the same color as them.” Isaac bit his lip.

“So you and the guard swing both ways. Nothing wrong with that. Which guard, I might know him… I mean well I know 15 of them…. “

“Not sure what shift he was in. Tall, dark skinned, has a…”

“Scar on his left peck that looks like a jagged lightning bolt?” Stiles supplied.

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded.

“Boyd. Good guy. He swings both ways? Good for him.” Stiles smiled. “And good for you.” He reached out and squeezed Isaac’s shoulder.

“So.. you’re not mad?” Stiles felt his heart give at the beaten look in Isaac’s eye.

“Of course not.” Stiles pulled him close into a hug. “Now, listen… I think as a married couple Derek and I might be moving into the master bedroom together… I’m not sure yet. Are you going to be okay in our room alone?” Stiles bit his lip showing Isaac just how worried he was about him.

“I think I can handle it.” Isaac smiled.

“Good, do you mind if I store some of my stuff in there for now… I haven’t even SEEN Derek’s bedroom yet so I don’t know how much space there is for any of my stuff, not that my two satchels worth of possessions will take that much room.” Stiles kind of retreated into his own mind for a bit.

“You should have plenty of room in there.” Isaac leaned in and whispered. “But listen, so long as we’re okay, I don’t mind you leaving things in the room; I’m kind of going to miss having someone else in there who doesn’t want to hurt me.”

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that here.” Stiles rubbed Isaac’s back and hoped that some day he would never again see that haunted look in Isaac’s eyes.

“House meeting.” Derek walked in and looked at the pair of them and then walked out, gruff and a little harsh.

“I guess we’re done bathing then.” Stiles frowned after him but got up and helped Isaac dry off before sliding back into his cloths and walking with Isaac who kept looking at Stiles’ cloths with confusion. Stiles was kind of hoping to get away with not saying anything but the reaction from Scott seeing him dressed like this, with the laughing and the hollering was enough to make him rethink a lot of things just then.

“I’m a Djinn, apparently this is what Djinn wear.” Stiles tried to look dignified, but mostly ended up looking like he didn’t want made fun of.

“So you know what kind of supernatural you are now!” Scott sounded happy.

“Yes, he’s a Djinn.” Derek sighed. “And we need to find him some tutors to teach him something before tomorrow. Hopefully something showy.” Derek sighed.

“Kind of have that covered.” Stiles gave a rather grim face as Derek raised an eyebrow. “I met my trainer, may have done some stuff I’m not supposed to talk about… and yeah this is me shutting up now.” Stiles sat as still as he could.

“Have they taught you anything you can show off?” Derek gave him a questioning look.

“Maybe. I have another session tonight at some point so we’ll find out then.”

“Good.” Derek turned back to the group.

“Why’s he need to learn… oh… they want to show him off for the gathering.” Stiles was kind of proud of Scott for getting that.

“That and as my husband he’s going to be even more on display.” Derek sighed heavily.

“Husband?” Scott squeaked.

“Yep. We got wolf married by having sex in front of the royal court and breaking an alter that pronounced us mates…” Stiles crossed his arms and gave Derek a pointed look.

“Dude, your dad didn’t see you get married.” Scott looked at Stiles.

“This is what I’m talking about, most people get that idea.” Stiles gestured to Scott.

“And this is me backing the fuck out of this conversation.” Scott slid back on the couch and snuggled Matt.

“Would you feel better if I invited your father here after we survive my relatives and we have a quiet little ceremony for his sake?” Derek looked exasperated as he said it.

“Yeah, I’d be happy with that.” Stiles said quietly, blushing at being called out even a little for being petulant about his wishes for a wedding that had already happened technically.

“Okay then.” Derek smiled a little, happy to have one at least one fight for now. “Now, as my husband despite what Lydia may think, I really don’t want you shown off like you’re something they can order about or mount.” Derek opened a case he’d brought with him. “At least not while my family’s here… I mean… I think you’re …. “ Derek paused just to drink in Stiles’ appearance. “perfect…” Derek whispered as he met Stiles’ eyes, causing the boy to blush heavily.   “But uh… I want you to have something more fitting for the receptions so I had some alterations made to another set of cloths.” He passed the case to Stiles who opened it and immediately was presented with a brown leather cod pieces. He blushed horribly as he picked it up and noticed how it was designed to attach to the cloths he had on. Well at least he wouldn’t be shaking a semi hard dick at everyone in public. But under that was a white silk version of the cloths he was wearing including a white leather jacket and a white leather cod piece. At least he’d look good.

“Thank you.” Stiles caressed the cloths and smiled, everyone remaining quiet till Scott coughed to break the moment and get things moving again. As much as he was enjoying them finally getting along, he didn’t really want to watch them making eyes at each other all night.

“Right… uh which reminds me Isaac…”

“Stiles and I already talked that over.” Isaac smiled.

“Okay…. I… okay.” Derek blushed realizing that the boy he’d bedded and his husband had talked about him earlier when he’d found them together most likely. “Uh… right, moving on. Scott. You’re going to have to wear your own costume for the duration.” Derek sighed heavily.

“Which costume?” Scott’s face closed off.

“The one you had to wear when you met my father….” Derek blushed, remembering all too keenly the embarrassing day he’d handed Scott over for processing and the boy had been brought before the full court naked except for the constricting cock ring made of black leather around the base of his cock and balls before he swore loyalty to the king and received his branding. A monks hood soaked silver branding iron was heated and pushed against his lower back branding him with the Triskelion, the mark of the Royal Pack, and he’d been taken to holding till Derek pleaded for ownership of him, and he’d been brought to Derek where he dressed him and made him a member of his staff.

“oh.” Scott sat there quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles frowned.

“Basically I’ll be naked…” Scott said quietly.

“For the whole week…?” Stiles looked up at Derek questioningly.

“He’s a bitten wolf. He’s above human slaves, but not by much. Most of the time no one touches him here because… I’m protecting him and they don’t want to piss me off. But with the rest of the family… who out rank me... the laws say all slaves, human and bitten wolves alike will have to submit to full use at anytime by any member of the visiting delegations.” Derek blushed.

“So anyone in your family visiting for this thing can demand sex from him… you said Peter was visiting.” Stiles’ eyes held a questioning hope but when Derek wouldn’t meet his eyes he knew all he needed to know. Scott would be at the mercy of Peter… for a week. Yeah Stiles wasn’t liking this plan in the slightest. But he knew he couldn’t just order Scott, or have Derek order Scott rather, not to have sex of any kind with Peter. He watched his best friend square his jaw and nod, he’d not had to do anything like that in front of Matt and Stiles knew from their conversation that he’d never bottomed before. He’d have to point something out to the pair of them fast before miss understandings happened. “Scott, Matt, I need to talk to you two after we’re done.” Stiles nodded at them and gave Derek a look that he frowned at, not sure what just happened he continued on.

“Anyway… uh, that’s sorted I suppose.” Derek looked at Stiles for a long minute. “Uh, right, Stiles is my husband so he’ll be moving into my room.” Derek blushed a little. It wasn’t like they hadn’t all heard him fucking Isaac’s brains out the last couple days. He was kind of afraid of what that made him for fucking Isaac and marrying Stiles.

“We’ll be living in the big room which I’m going to sound proof with magic just as soon as I know how for everyone’s comfort.” Stiles chimed in. “And I’ll still keep some of my stuff in with Isaac because I don’t want him to feel alone.” Stiles smiled. “Plus…” Stiles bit his lip.

“What?” Derek asked.

“We haven’t talked about it.” Stiles replied quietly. “About maybe redecorating or moving things around or do I just get a drawer or something?” Stiles worried his bottom lip looking down.

“Right, meeting over I…”

“Need to get everyone else up to speed about your family, because not all of us know what to expect. And then I have to talk to those two about things, and then you and I can cuddle in our bed and make plans.” Stiles smiled at Derek who just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“You know I actually miss that expression.” Scott said with a wistful smile. “I thought for sure when I came here I’d never see it again.”

“You’ve seen this before?” Matt gestured to Derek.

“Yeah, Stiles has a way of doing it to anyone older then us.” He smirked. “Mostly because everyone else has grown up used to his way of thinking. I can only imagine how boring the village has gotten since we left.” Scott’s words trailed off as his own thoughts went to the fact that if he ever married Matt his mom would never know. His mom would never meet Matt, he’d never get to get dating advice from her. Or the boys on boys sex talk… he.. oh lips. Scott stopped thinking as he realized Matt was kissing him.

“Better?” Matt smiled.

“Better.” Scott cuddled down in against his boyfriend, love slave, and just settled in to watch Derek’s mind reboot. Finally Derek seemed to come back to himself and clear his throat as he turned back to the group, who acted like he hadn’t been standing there staring at Stiles like he was the moon and he was transfixed.

“Well the biggest threat is my Uncle Deucalion, the King of Nidavellir, his country produces most of the grain for the other countries so he gets away with a little… eccentricities. He’ll probably bring some slaves, all males, and a few of his all male harem, and probably his son.” Derek sighed. “His son is a bit of a spoiled brat. Christopher is older then me but he’s a complete party boy, thankfully straight, but he’s a walking disaster area. His father keeps suggesting he won’t bring him, but he always does.” Derek continued. “Then you have my Aunt Kali, she rules Hvergelmir, which supplies the extra water to most of the other nations because of their underground supplies, she’s about the same but opposite, all women in all her groups. Thankfully she doesn’t have any children yet. They’ll all be bringing their Emissary’s, but we can sort of expect that Aunt Kali will make some kind of display with the female slaves.” He shook his head.

“Then you have Uncle Ennis, King of Muspelheim. They produce the bulk of the alchemic supplies, and rare minerals needed for our technology in Muspelheim. And Uncle Ennis is the only one of Grandfather’s children who has actual magic. He’s a good guy, fun loving. He’ll probably treat you all fairly. I’ve heard he treats the human in his kingdom like they’re apart of his family. But he’s also looked down upon by the others because he’s the only polyamorous wolf.” Derek say how the group was looking at him. “He’s bisexual so he’s attracted to both male and female, but because he’s polyamorous… he’s married to one of each gender.” Derek paused to see if they understood now. “He seldom brings his wife to court here. Her health isn’t the best so she’s often left to govern their kingdom while he’s away to these things. But we received word that his son Garret is coming for the first time in years, so no one knows what that’s about.”

“Then there’s Peter and his bleak Kingdom of Utgardar, and what he made of it, with his slave experiments. His son Jacob and daughter Malia live there with him and they’re both as insane as he is. They have a small delegation with them, but no one’s sure if Peter’s Emissary is here or not.” Derek paused to think. “You know everyone from Bilskirnir, since that’s our Kingdom. Beaconhills is in the southern part of our land closer to Utgardar. But Riverdale lays on our side of the divide between us and Niflheim, Laura’s Kingdom.” Derek closed his eyes. “If Laura was still alive, Scott, you’d be living with her Emissary and delegation, most of whom left to manage the country shortly after she died. Her Emissary is still here and… is kind of running the show from here. Watch out for Braedon, she’s crafty and skilled.” Derek eyed Scott.

“What?”

“Part of this gathering now is that someone has to be picked to rule Niflheim. Till such time as Peter figures out a way to put a stored alpha essence into someone, or failing Grandfather coming here and declaring a new King or Queen, they’ll probably make the Emissary take the position of Regent and rule in Laura’s stead. But if that happens, or if someone does get appointed in the other options… you’ll be going with them Scott.” Scott looked shocked. “You’ll be counted as part of the property of that country because you’re apart of Laura’s pack. I have applied for rights to keep you here, but there’s been no word on if they’ve been granted.” Derek hung his head. “If you do have to leave us, I’m giving Matt the freedom to go with you.” Derek looked between them and watched as they held on to each other. “He’ll officially belong to you, but Laura’s laws will allow you to take him as an equal. Niflheim has laws that allow for slaves to be freed in marriage….” Derek looked away blushing.

“On the other side of Niflheim is Náströnd, which is Noshiko’s Kingdom now that Satomi is dead. She gave the far Kingdom on the other side of her to her daughter Kira recently. Svartálfar is where she’ll live with whom ever she picks at the gathering to be her mate. The only thing I know about them is that they’re foxes, and they possess magic. They went over father’s head and got an invitation through Grandfather. Beyond that we know almost nothing about them.” Derek frowned as he seemed to think about something. “There’s only three other Kingdoms. The first is Hel, and no one’s been awarded that space yet. Grandfather had it recently rebuilt, it’s where my father was born, but the royal family was decimated and he was found in Nidavellir near death. He managed to make it to Hlidskjalf where my grandfather rules and got healed. While he was there he and my mother fell in love. But other then his tales no one’s been in Hel in decades to know the state of it. There was talk that I might be getting that kingdom…” Derek looked away as Stiles gaped at him.

“We don’t know. They’re going to decide out of the three of us who gets it this week.” Stiles frowned. “Cora, Jacob, and I are old enough to take a Kingdom now. They’ll decide who gets Hel at the gathering. I was looking forwards to it because it would take me away from Peter, and put me near Joshua. But… now…” Derek looked at Stiles, clearly showing that he was thinking about taking Stiles farther away from his father. “I’m not sure I can get away taking your dad with us… if we go.” He said quietly.

“He’s the city’s chief law giver… we can’t take him away from Beaconhills with out drastically changing it.” Stiles said resigned as he put a tone in his voice that said he would break into a million pieces about that later.

“And I can’t take my mom with me either.” Scott nodded. “She’s about the only thing we have as a healer in Beaconhills. With out her… they’d all die. I…” Scott nuzzled into Matt and let it drop there.

“So I’m lucky? I left a bad home to a good situation and don’t get to leave the country unless you two do?” Isaac looked between Derek and Stiles.

“You’re coming with us. That’s never changing.” Stiles hugged Isaac. “Never.” He looked over Isaac’s hair at Derek.

“Thank you.” He mouthed to Stiles. “Of course Joshua is coming back from Fyr’s Wolds with Braydon and Sylvia in a few days. So you’ll get to meet all my siblings.” Derek sighed. “And the final Kingdom is Breidablik, where Aaron Whitmore is King. He’s said he is coming, and with his Emissary. I think he means to take his Triborn son Jackson with him, as well as Jackson’s mother.” He looked at the others who had various stages of confusion and shock. “Last gathering he left kind of quickly because Deucalion spent most of it with Jackson sucking him off. We know Deucalion is going to do some sort of spectacle to get under everyone’s skin again this year but no one knows what or when, so yeah there’s that.” Derek sighed.

“And your grandfather?” Stiles asked.

“High King Lucas Hale, the Wolf King, King of Hlidskjalf, and almost a complete mystery. I’ve not seen him since my 15^th birthday party. He showed up, gave me a gift, took one look in my eyes, smiled and promptly left the party. He’s not bothered to show up to another event since. No one knows why, but he’s always got a good excuse as to why he’s not here.” Derek shrugged.

“Yeah that smacks of something not right. But if we’ve already got our hands full, let’s not borrow trouble right now.” Stiles stretched. “Okay, you and Isaac have a nice little talk while I have a talk with these two.” Stiles nodded towards Scott’s room and the other two followed him.

“What’s so…”

“Scott, I know you haven’t bottomed for Matt.” Both boys pinked up. “But look at it as this is your last chance before Peter or someone has you bent over a chair fucking your ass and you wishing your first time had been with the man you love.” He looked at Matt.

“You love me…” Matt’s eyes got big.

“Yeah.” Scott bit his lip carefully golden amber eyes looking out from under the fringe of his hair at Matt.

“Scott… I…” Matt blushed and smiled. “I love you too.” He smiled and leaned in and kissed Scott, tasting how their mutual love for one another tasted on them.

“Great. You love him, he loves you, now get in there and get him in your ass, because mark my words you’ll wish you had.” Stiles gave them a stern warning and they giggled and ran into Scott’s room, closing the door behind them.

“Problems?” Derek asked at Stiles’ strange face as he walked up to him.

“Just remarkably happy I’m not a werewolf and can’t hear a blessed thing going on in that room right now.” Stiles smiled before squeezing Isaac’s shoulder, he nodded his head and left them alone.

“So.. we need to talk about…” His words being cut off by a very enthusiastic kiss.

“Less standing, more laying down on the bed sort of talking.” Stiles pulled back and lead them into Derek’s private bed chamber. Through the dark doors into the spacious, nearly cavernous mirrored walls of Derek’s room, Stiles felt a little taken a back. He looked at the nearly seamless room and seemed to wonder where Derek put anything since there weren’t any other rooms in this room. Derek grinned at the face Stiles was pulling and coughed.

“Sala, open the windows please.” The wall behind the bed became transparent and displayed an epic view of the entire kingdom from this height. Stiles’ jaw fell down as he looked out at lands surrounding the capitol.

“We’re having sex looking out that window you know.” Stiles looked at Derek.

“They can’t see in.” Derek pointed out.

“Even better.” Stiles went back to looking at the window.

“There’s other parts of the room. I just, keep them closed unless I need them.” Derek walked up to a wall and touched it; it opened up to reveal a walk in closet. “We’ll have to start making room for your stuff in here.” He smiled, pointing to a section that looked like he might have started moving things out of. “I want you to feel this is your space too.” He smiled and kissed Stiles delicately down the side of his cheek, nipping at his jaw.

“Thank you.” Stiles turned and kissed Derek fully on the lips. “So… who gets to bottom first against the glorious window?” Stiles smirked.

“We’ll flip for it.” Derek grinned into Stiles’ mouth.

“We don’t have any coins.. how….” Derek picked up Stiles and flipped him onto the bed. “OH!” Stiles smirked

Else where in an inn in Oakridge, solders from Deucalion’s army wearily make their way in for a moment of rest. The wolves prickle the second they enter the inn.

“What the hell is that smell?” The teenaged wolf wrinkled his nose as he sat down at the bar.

“Brett, you know the smell, of a young wolf when he’s in the throw of a good heat.” Delan smirked as he poured the captain a drink.

“Delan, just because you’re a druid doesn’t give you…”

“Hey, what happens when young wolves sneak over to my shop to get vials of substances, stays between me and him.” Delan smirked. “Kind of like the two wolves who’ve been in that room all week.” He motioned.

“Two wolves… they’re not twins are they? Delan, if Deucalion finds out you harbored…”

“I’m not harboring anyone.” Delan stood affronted “What makes you think these two are the ones you’re looking for?”

“We just chased them in this area in the last day or so.” Brett narrowed his eyes.

“Take a sniff, do they SMELL like they’ve been anywhere but in that bed fucking for the last week?” Brett narrowed his eyes but let his eyes go full wolven as he sniffed the bar. Sure enough he could smell two wolves in the middle of a full blown heat. They had to have been there at least a week, if not more, there was no way they were the ones he was looking for.

“So you haven’t seen another pair of twin werewolves running through the forest?” Brett looked hopeful.

“Not that I recall, but there was remains of a fire not far over the boarder yesterday I think. Never saw anyone though.” Brett sighed and seemed to sag in on himself.

“Damn, means we have to keep going.” He took his offered ale and downed it in one go. “He’s going to right foul to deal with we don’t find them soon.” He looked around the room spinning on his bar stool till his back was to the bar.

“Eh, he’s half way to the capitol by now. He wont know if you failed or not for a while yet.” He offered Brett another drink.

“True. Maybe I’ll introduce myself to the lovelies in the other room.” Brett grinned. “Nothing wrong with helping a fella out when he’s got an itch.”

“Kind of how I helped you out that time…” Delan smirked leaning in close and causing Brett’s ears to pink up at the mention of it. “Have a couple more, and then go have your fun.” He handed Brett another drink, dropping a little something into the ale this time, the werewolf none the wiser as he drank it and walked into the back room where he spotted the two naked whore wolf twins before loosing his britches and aiming his own randy cock at the first loose hole between the pair, not caring in the slightest who he sank his wick in, so long as it went in and was welcome. He was too busy fucking his and their brains out to notice Delan slip away, a small smile to tell the other solders that they’re captain would be a bit, and he had herbs to gather. He slipped through the forest till he was near a cross roads and stood under a tall oak tree.

“You might as well show yourself Billy Blackbranch.” He picked up a stone and threw it into the branches of the tree, only to be caught by the out stretched hand of a man sitting nude in the tree.

“And who be you that knows the name of Billy Blackbranch, let alone knows my were abouts and there fors on any given day?” He blinked his black eyes down at the dark haired man, seeing the druid, one of the mortal enemies of the fae and hissing at him, but before he could vanish or wish ill, an acorn hit Billy square in the forehead.

“Will you be fore shutting your infernal mouth now?” Delan’s arm was covered in black tattoos that had Billy falling out of the tree and falling on himself to bow his nude form before who he knew Delan to be now.

“Sorry your…”

“You honor me and I’ll cut your balls off and stitch them to your tongue.” Delan hissed. “I know your King has been invited to this gathering of wolves. I know he declined. Matters of state and needing to take a piss being more important then the affairs of mortals and wolves. But you tell him right now, that I said his debt to me is cleared in full if he shows up and takes his heir as guests. Tell him to tell the same of the other two who were invited and declined.” Delan stepped back.

“YOU WANT THEM AT A MORTAL GATHERING!” Billy wailed, his body trembling with fear.

“Games are a foot, and I need allies to help back a plan. My fool son has botched enough that I can’t ask those I would normally be obliged to turn to. So thus I turn to you Billy Blackbranch, Spriggan who haunts the woods around Oakridge. The one who tramples my thistles flat and makes the Brownies dance upon my hut in the wee hours of the day. And you’ll do this or I’ll make you know pain and suffering the likes that your kind aren’t soon to ever walk or flit away from.” His eyes held a kind of distant fire that scared the Spriggan. “And before you go about doing that, you’re going to take these cloths from my pouch and you’re going to leave a trail like two frightened werewolves are heading south through the valley, make sure to get their scent strong enough for a wolf but faint enough like they’re trying to hide.” He stepped back and handed over the cloths to the nodding Spriggan.

“Sure it be sure your… you ship.” He nodded and winked out of being.

“That should get some work done.” Delan smirked, crouching to gather some herbs so the wolves wouldn’t know any better. When he arrived back Brett was talking to his men, boasting of the sweet asses of the boys in the inn. And the last of his men were coming back out, having finished taking their turns with them as well.

“Not often we get to fuck up turned wolven asses.” Brett grinned.

“I suspect not. Deucalion does have his tastes for boys to be on bottom for him.” He smirked as Brett blushed. “And don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll catch up to them. Oh, while I was out gathering herbs, there was tracks where someone went right through a patch of singing nettles in a hurry going south through the valley. Just past that fork in the road down there.” He pointed and Brett looked down there, hope welling on his face again.

“Thank you Delan, we owe you one.”

“None sense boys, the way you bred those fine hungry whores inside, I’m sure I probably owe you more then you owe me.” The grinned at a Druid owing them and left with their thanks. He walked off towards his hut and looked for his apprentice who was sitting on an ice pack, his body quivering. “Sorry I road you so hard Brice.” He smiled patting the nude boy on the shoulder gently. “Didn’t mean to let it get away from me like that.”

“It’s okay master.” He bowed his head blushing.

“How was your task, the copying complete?” He looked at the two tablets in front of Brice.

“Yes Master, I managed to finish up the last of the data copying that you asked for. May I ask what this is for?” He held up the freshly copied and filled data pad.

“I’m paying off old debts today. And those twins will need it to take it where they need to go to give it to the person they’re supposed to give it to. I’ve made sure that there will be enough of a distraction that they’ll have time to get where they need to go. Have you brewed the heat cure yet?” He looked to the finished work that Brice had already corked and labeled. “A fine apprentice you’ve turned out to be. A few more years and it’ll be time for me to find a place to set you up as the local druid.” He smiled. “You know, I hear that Braedon has been looking for a bit of a transfer lately, wanting to bring in a new student who’d be given one of the nicer towns in Niflheim as his parish and I’d be getting me a fresh faced young apprentice in the process.” He smiled, and watched Brice’s face light up as well.

“Master?”

“I’ve already talked it over with her. When your time with me is over in a few months, I’ll be leaving the midwife in charge of this town while I make sure you make it all the way to Niflheim unscathed.”

“MASTER!” Brice through his arms around Delan and smiled before winching at the pain in his back side.   “Thank you.” He blushed and bowed his head again.

“Just rest for now boy. We have wolves to tend to in a bit and I’ll fetch them. Then it’ll be us alone again finishing out the last of your training with the secrets I only share to my apprentices at the end.” He smiled and headed for the door. He walked up to the Inn and saw the men limping to their homes, heading to finally get some sleep. He thanked them and cajoled them as he walked in and helped dress the two shaking, heat addled horny wolves who’s asses were dripping with slick and cum, their faces coated in the thick white cum of the men who came in their mouths and across their faces. “Clearly not virgins anymore.” He chided before walking them back to his hut, stopping to let them rut with one another before continuing on to his hut where he gave them the cure and let them lay down in his soft bed, after a warm bath, to cool down and collect themselves. It was later in the day by the time they finally came to.

“Ah, good you’re up.” He smiled as he brought in cloths that looked more at home in the royal court then anything they’d need for roughing the wilds between Oakridge and Bilskirnir. “You need to get dressed. I’ve had Brice put your food down in the tunnel already. I’ll be showing you how to get to the capitol and then I’ll be come back up here to cover up any trace of you two having been here.” They blinked owlishly at him.

“DRESS.” He shouted and they scurried to pull the fine cloths onto their forms. He shook his head and went to get his staff, picking up the tablet as he went. He hated leaving things to others to do, but he knew if he showed up it would ruin his friend’s plans. Eventually the two finely dressed young men came out looking sheepish as he pressed a part of his dinning table and it lifted into the air to reveal an opening into the floor. He lead them down, the solar panel wiring coming down to go into a lighting system into what looked like a platform underground. “The humans used to call these subways. The wolves took them over and destroyed any knowledge of them outside their Emissaries and the druid councils. They’re strictly monitored by the royals in each given country. Thankfully for you, you’re going with two things.” He held up the tablet. “That goes to Stiles Stilinski, you’ll know him by the way he’s married to Prince Derek.” They gaped at him, they knew who Derek was, he’d come through their village long ago on a visit. “The other is this.” He held up a letter. “It explains that you’re born wolves and you have urgent news for Prince Derek and his husband from the boarder and need to see them and ONLY them immediately. They’ll take you to them and make sure you give that to Stiles. It’s important.” He kept pointing to the tablet, they nodded, and he walked them down the platform to where a retrofitted car had been designed. “Once you reach your destination, the car will wait till you’ve left and then return to me.” He dialed in where it was going and locked the controls. “And what ever you do, do not give that tablet to Deaton, the court Emissary. If he reaches to touch it, be very loud and very aggressive about defending it.” He turned to the two confused twins.

“But wont he…”

“He’ll defend himself but doing so will cause him to use magics in the court which will draw attention to himself and the fact that he tried to take something meant for the Prince. I set the opening page to be a letter to Stiles. Only his bio signature will unlock it. He’ll protect you two.” He patted them on the shoulder, pointed out where the food and blankets were, and stepped back to the platform where Brice was to see them off. The car roared to life and took off down the track.

“I’m always shocked the humans don’t hear it.” Brice said as they came up from the tunnel.

“Sound proofing spells. Between the wolves and the druids we made sure no one else knew it was there. Any mortals do hear it or bitten wolves, and we tell them its demons and dragons under the earth. It keeps them at bay.” He smiled before looking towards his dream catcher and worrying himself that maybe this wouldn’t be enough. Suddenly, in that moment, he worried if Niflheim was far enough to send Brice to be safe.

Stiles was sitting at his sketch pad, drawing Derek where he lay asleep when a fire magic symbol appeared in the air, he waved his hand and the message unfurled.

We await you in the main room, we will stop time to give you time to study tonight.

Before vanishing as soon as he read it. Shaking his head, he finished redressing; they’re bout of naked fun time having led to a change of sheets and a couple baths for the pair of them. And that deliciously happy smile on Derek’s unconscious lips that Stiles had felt the urge to draw. He stepped out into the main room to see Ernat and Danny standing there, Danny looking none the worse, minus the bandage on his throat.

“I’m sorry for harming you.” Stiles blushed.

“I should have expected it.” Danny bowed in return. “Mistress mine teaches me many things, viewing into the past and future are one of these. That I did not see that as an out come is both troublesome and thrilling.” He smiled.

“Well at least we can agree on that.” Stiles smiled.

“Since the hour is late and you must be practiced enough in your powers to show off non vital magics in front of wolves to prove your worth, I will not enforce fire tongue tonight.” Ernat bowed to Stiles before holding up an etched sphere filled with a golden fire. “While you were unconscious from your expression earlier, we determined you are a golden harem Djinn. Meaning your power is rare, but you are also refueled my sex.” He gestured to Derek and he’s bedroom. “Thus we waited till after coitus to begin training.” He looked at Stiles’ blushing face as he spoke.

“Great… sex is my battery for my magic… and my magic was protecting my virginity… why?”

“That was a God’s doing. Your powers are now active due to your sexual congress with the Prince.” Ernat spoke plainly.

“We’re getting away from the topic at hand. We need to teach him something that can show off a bit of power but not show off his hidden skills.” Danny prodded.

“Yes. We need to ensure he can perform.” Ernat nodded and studied Stiles for a good long while before finally speaking. “I think basic transformation should be enough to wow the wolves at this point.” He nodded more to himself. “You’ve seen a flame in a corner of your mind, yes?” Stiles nodded. “Go to it. Let that flame spill out of where it is and let it fill your skin.” Stiles frowned. “Like so.” Ernat’s flame spilled out leaving him standing there nude, his purple skin shining with light inside himself as he looked at Stiles.

“I’ve not managed to … get there with out sex.” Stiles blushed.

“You’ve recently had sex as you put it. Focus on loosing yourself in that feeling again to guide you.” Stiles closed his eyes, picturing his body pressed flat against the glass wall looking out at the world, his hard leaking cock smearing precum all over the window as Derek gave punishing cracks of his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of Stiles in the most brutal torturous pleasure he’d ever experienced. He was almost to one of Derek’s more showy moves when he found himself in the stone room with its wall of air between him and the fire. Let it spill and fill me… Stiles thought. The wall kept everything on that side of the room. But the writing had went along the floor.

Stiles thought about that and focused on pulling on the flame, shaping it as a piece of it slithered down the iron pole it stood upon, slowly moving till it was just peaking through the wall of air. Stiles reached down and touched it and came back to himself in a shock. He looked at the reflective walls and noticed he was standing there, black as pitch, his eyes and mouth glowing gold, his hair a golden flame, waving in an unseen wind. His shoulders were carved with spirals showing the gold flame inside him, and his hand was etched with gold runes that seemed to go half way up his arm.

“This… is going to take some getting used to…” Stiles’ voice seemed deeper, more like the sound of flames eating a log.

“Yes, transformation is one of our basic skills. It is also one of the most showy when it comes to impressing a group of werewolves.” Ernat smiled. “This skill is safe to show mortals and immortals a like. This next one is not polite. It indicates a strong feeling or loss of control in social situations, and a show of power in others.” Ernat raised his hands and they seemed to be made out of a glowing pulsing purple light, which faded into flesh half way up his forearm. “It is called raising energy.” He gestured to Stiles. “Embrace your flame, become one with it.”

Become one with his flame. Stiles pictures that flame he was barely touching, and for a second let that line between him and the flame blur. His hands became a wash with golden light, the lettering forming on his other hand now as well. He smiled, glad that he was getting the hang of the basics. He looked at Ernat who nodded. “The next stage is to become enflamed.” Ernat moved back a little. “You let your flame cover your whole being. It makes it to where your magic is literally repairing any damage you take and fueling you to move faster and work harder with every second. But it will drain you quickly. So be mindful of that.” In a burst of blistering heat Ernat’s body was encased in a pulsing, vibrant transparent purple flame that seemed to be making him stronger but also draining him at the same time. Stiles watched, his golden orbs intent, and he tried to mimic the feeling he had from Ernat. He let the flame spread and for a moment it was exactly the same, it was encompassing him bit by bit and then suddenly it wasn’t normal. An explosive force of magic erupted out of Stiles, his whole body going liquid gold as the flame around him seemed to shove Ernat and Danny away from him. He realized he was floating in the midst of the destruction and carnage, his body untouched as he floated there in the heart of the storm. Everything else drowned out of him, there was just the power and him and…. Someone else. Someone standing in the power. Someone looking quizzically at Stiles as he floated there, one raw pouring of power.

{That’s quite enough of that.} The other person in Stiles’ mind said and suddenly Stiles realized he was sitting in the midst of the repaired living room, Ernat and Danny looking at him wide eyed as one of the charred explosions against the wall seemed to heal itself, repairing the damage till there was no sign Stile had lost control.

“If I hadn’t seen it myself.” Danny muttered.

“We should be standing in a burned out ruin and be looking at a future where the wolves hunt us all to extinction. But instead… you stopped and reversed the damage you caused.” Ernat frowned. “How did you do that?”

“Wasn’t me.. it was…” Stiles eyes went glassy as he went limp, his body loosing consciousness, he found himself in that room, the wall of air dividing it. And for the first time he realized there was a man sitting on the other side meditating. Stiles went to ask him something and the man opened his golden eyes.

No I wasn’t always here. He answered Stiles’ unasked question. You tapped too much fire and it woke me up. He nodded towards the ball of fire and the runes that seemed to be trying to inch their way back through the wall of air towards the iron pole.

‘How did I…’

Everything in the universe is energy. How much energy each thing is able to hold and willing to give up determines it’s mortality. Mortals are there and gone again, flaring out of existence because they don’t keep anything back. Flashing little supernovas of life and light that are gone before they know anything of this world or any other. The Immortals horde their light sharing it in brief flashes till they forget why they share it at all. And then there are we who are one with the smokeless flame. He pointed to the ball of fire. We are the burning desire, the hungry flame that seeks forever but always gives in equal measure to what it takes. He looked at Stiles, his golden eyes like blazing infernos behind the blackened face. You have stepped into a line of things I had tried to prevent over four hundred years ago, by asking a friend to do a series of things that made no sense to him. Now because of one spoiled selfish wolf you have been placed here anyways. It stretches my sense of the universe to the breaking point to ponder that even after all that work you are here anyways. He seemed to be looking through Stiles.

‘Who are…’ Stiles was cut short by a blazing sound.

Never ask that question. He looked at Stiles carefully. To ask that question is to invite answers, and answers at this point will only put your life and the life of your prince in mortal peril. Because while you are no longer bound by mortal aspects of time like most, he still is. They were suddenly standing in Derek’s bedroom watching him sleep, frozen in time. Your wolf is precious to you. Protect him. Watch and wait for the opening. You will know it when you see it. But do ensure that you are never away from his side if you can help it this week. Events long in motion are coming to fruition and there are others beyond young Peter who would see this undone. Trust no one with the knowledge of me.

‘All this power.. you… that’s why I’m not supposed to touch other fae isn’t it?’ Stiles frowned.

You possess the King’s hand. Every time you touch a fae born being you take a piece of their power into yourself. He pointed to the new runes that seemed carved into strange places on the rod. Every new dose of power adds to your own and will provoke an equal and opposite reaction to their power. As they aggress you aggress, but both burn their flame, not yours. He turned back to Stiles. The touch of Daniel’s flesh to your hand was enough to grow the tattoo that much. The exposure of your enflamed state was enough to tattoo both hands and make them visible to the mortals. He nodded to Stiles’ hands. They wont know what it means. And only a few fae born will. But any Djinn who sees it will know it for what it is. Power. Power that makes you a threat to them. He held up his own hands, mirror copies of Stiles, but his tattoos waving into sweeping rolling shapes all around his body. You can always choose to burn out the little part of the others you keep and the tattoos will recede some. But they are on your soul, and will only grow as your power grows. He sat back tilting his head to the side and listening to things that were probably unfathomable to Stiles just then. This moment is almost spent. Ask them to teach you how to open your Ætheric storage. It’ll be a hit at the party. Stiles frowned and sat up with a gasp, laying on the floor, both Danny and Ernat sitting a few inches away, neither willing to touch him just yet.

“Are you undamaged?” Ernat looked him up and down.

“I just… think I over did it.” He said weakly.

“I would imagine so.” Danny frowned at him.

“Perhaps that is enough for tonight.” Ernat smiled patiently.

“Wait.. can you show me how you do that… Ætheric storage thing? That’s where you pull things in and out of thin air right?” Stiles asked earnestly.

“That it is.” Ernat smiled. “A specialty of the Djinn. While most fae are capable of it, few take it to the art form that we have.” He smiled and sat back. “Hold out your hand.” Stiles followed him, a few feet apart. “Now, do not see empty air. See a river. An invisible river of all things in all times in all places. A never ending river of possible things.” Stiles frowned at that. A river… a… he blinked, but it felt like there was watery movement around his finger tips. “Do you feel the current?” Stiles nodded. “Think of the object you want and reach into the current and pull it through the current to you.” Stiles bit his lip and slid his hand into the current, marveling at how his hand seemed to become wavy like it was in an unseen waterfall, distorted and muted as he felt semi material things drifting past his hand, and through his hand. He thought back through his life, his mind wandering. He thought about his mother’s broach that had went missing years ago and pulled his hand back, holding the worked turquoise stone broach.

So that’s why it had vanished. Because he’d pulled it to this moment. He paused and thought about things as he looked at the broach and thought about his father. He looked at Ernat. “Is it possible to do the same but in reverse, to send an object to a place you’re thinking about?” Ernat looked at him confused for a moment and then nodded.

“You have to think of the place you want to put it.” He explained. Stiles nodded and held his hand out, feeling the currents forming around his fingers and slide the broach into them, watching as it became immaterial, he thought about his dad right now, alone and worried and hurting and wanted to give him something to know he wasn’t alone. He let go of the broach as he felt it pass through him and the current. He didn’t see as it fell out of thin air and landed with a bit of a thud on the Sherriff’s sleeping belly, waking him up with a start. He looked at the piece of his wife’s lost things and wondered how it had come to be here now. He frowned at it but put it on his bed side night stand before curling back up and going to sleep once more.

Stiles smiled at his teachers who smiled back, calling it quits for tonight, they bid him good night and let him go back to his sketching of Derek. He was almost done with it by the time the spell wore off and Derek sat up with a start.

“Do you smell smoke?” He looked around confused.

“A little. I just got back from practice.” He smiled warmly as Derek nodded and started to settle back down before he looked up, noticing the sketch pad that held a rather well drawn sketch of him sleeping. He leaned in and kissed Stiles and smiled warmly before bringing him into the bed. He asked Sala to darken the room a little and he snuggled with Stiles, who was once again naked and cuddling with Derek.

“Don’t supposed you’re feeling frisky?” Stiles smiled his hand dipping over Derek’s thigh to play with his half hard cock, stroking down Derek’s length teasingly with his fingers.

“Getting that way.” Derek smiled.

“You don’t have to do any work. I’ll get on top and ride.” Stiles grinned, as he rolled Derek onto his back, moving the blankets so that he could slide down the hard cock of his husband, slowly he started to pick up speed, bucking and twisting and he had an errant thought that he’d love to stay in this moment, before slamming down on Derek’s cock and unloading all over Derek. He was panting and smiling when he realized he’d stopped time for the first time. “Damn it. Of all the times…” Stiles panted out, biting his lip before having a dirty thought that made his lips curl in a chuckle. He started riding Derek again, twisting and turning and trying various positions. Even broke off and gave Derek a couple blow jobs and hand jobs, before also fingering him. In the end he was bouncing deep on Derek’s cock when the moment passed and time unfroze, and all that last three hours worth of stimulation caught up with Derek and he came, hard over and over again, emptying himself into Stiles and unable to stop for almost a solid five minutes. When it was over Derek curled in against him and gave a blissed out smile that Stiles kissed and cuddled around him.

Some where in all of that they passed out together, utterly content and asleep. So it took a while for Isaac’s words to break through their haze of sleep and get them awake. He’d been elected to get them up having seen both of them naked and slept with Derek. He was insistently shaking them awake saying something over and over. When Stiles finally focused he heard the phrase. “He came anyways…” And wondered what was going on. Eventually they were awake enough to understand what had happened. The first of the delegates had arrived, and was early. But instead of being anyone that they’d been expecting, High King, Lord Lucas Hale, was in the entrance hall, with guests. It took some time to get up and get their formal cloths prepped while they rushed into the bath. There was not a single chance in hell Stiles was going to meet Derek’s Grandfather smelling like he’d just had an orgy. No mater how much fun a little frozen time sex had been. They were almost done bathing when Derek finally said something about it.

“I’ve never… like that… with anyone…” Derek blushed.

“Good.” Stiles smiled as he finished washing off. “But if you had I’d be more worried then anything.” He said off handed.

“Why?” Derek blinked back confusion, stepping out of the water to reach for the towel that Stiles was holding out to him.

“Well… total honesty?” Derek nodded. “I kind of accidently stopped time on you.” Derek’s air of confusion only deepened. “Yeah I’m not supposed to tell you this, but fae can stop top anytime they like… and while we were… I thought about how great it would be to pause in the middle… and well…” Stiles blushed. “I wasn’t sure what to do while I figured out how to unpause time so I just kept going hoping it’d break on it’s own eventually.”

“How.. how long were we having sex?”

“From my perspective? About two, maybe three hours.” Stiles shrugged, and then paused at Derek’s shocked expression. “Makes the over sensitivity make more sense doesn’t it.” He smiled and kissed Derek. “And if you’re really lucky I’ll figure out what I’m doing and do it again sometime.” He patted Derek’s check and started pulling on his formal cloths.

“Gods, I almost need another bath to get the scent of arousal off of me.” Derek blushed as he thought about getting back in the tub but started putting on his white leather britches and white silk dress shirt.

“Hey, if I don’t smell like I’ve been fucked into a wall today, then I’m doing something wrong as your husband.” Stiles commented. “So I don’t care if the rest of the court knows how much sex we had or not. But… your grandpa.” He blushed.

“Grandfather isn’t what you’d expect from a werewolf…” Derek warned.

“Oh now I’m kind of worried what you could mean by that.” Stiles frowned but let it leave his face as they went out to the main room where Isaac and Matt were trying to reassure Scott, who like the other two was utterly naked, save of course their white leather collars, Scott’s having a silver wolf design on it.

“Okay. We should be ready.” Derek sighed, decidedly not looking at Scott’s naked body, a problem that Stiles apparently didn’t have a problem with as much as he probably should have. Though Derek hoped he wouldn’t say anything out of respect for his friend. A hope that was dashed shortly after the elevator doors closed.

“Being a werewolf agrees with you.” Stiles said when they were in the elevator heading down.

“Why do you say that?” Scott asked quietly.

“Well we grew up together. I’ve seen you naked before. Trust me. I can tell the difference. That and down there.” He pointed to Scott’s large uncut cock. “While that was already big to begin with, that’s massive, and you were cut same as me when we were born.” Stiles commented.

“Yeah… werewolf healing… took care of the asthma and regrew my foreskin.” Scott shrugged.

“Huh. I didn’t know they did that.” Stiles shrugged his face thoughtful. “I thought it was more a born wolf tradition.” Derek blushing at the implication of that and decided to keep his mouth shut as he road the elevator hoping that this didn’t turn into a cluster fuck of a disaster before he even got out of the elevator. When the elevator opened Derek and his party where on the top level of the steps over looking the entrance hall a short walk to the edge of the landing showed him his grandfather and his party where at the bottom of the steps talking to one another. Derek was kind of happy that he’d beaten everyone else down here. He took Stile arm and walked him down the steps side by side, all eyes turning to them, and their naked companions as they descended. As he reached his grandfather Derek gave a very courteous bow and Stiles had a moment of panic as he wasn’t sure if he should bow or curtsey or what.

“Grandfather, may I introduce to you my husband Stiles Stilinski.” Derek realized too late that he hadn’t had the conversation with Stiles about last names, by the look on Stiles’ face out of the corner of his eye. “And Stiles, may I introduce you to his Highness, High King, Lord Lucas Hale, the Wolf King, ruler of all the lands of man and wolf.” To this Stiles did bow, hoping he did it right. Lucas took his hand and kissed it.

“I’m glad someone finally won my grandson’s heart. The boy was much too lonely for his own good.” He smiled as he released Stiles’ hand, he barely looked thirty with his short spiky locks, but the fully wolfed eyes and ears kind of ruined the image of human youth.

“I wasn’t aware you were partially shifted.” Stiles said and Derek felt like he was going to die.

“Yes, most people don’t know, but once you hit a certain age, it kind of starts bleeding through. Your healing kicks up to keep you younger looking, but you start to keep more and more traits of your wolf. The price I pay while I yet draw breath.” He chuckled.

“It probably also helps catch assassins and such trying to sneak up on you.” Stiles commented.

“Yes, you wouldn’t believe my range.” He confessed. “Of course you know it’s not just a born wolf tradition, most wolves never cut their sons or daughters down there at all.” He smirked at Stiles’ blush as he guided Derek and Stiles towards the rest of his party. “You remember Deaton’s mother, the Druidess Elena.” He introduced them to a woman who’d had her back to them, dressed in black leather, and when she turned, Stiles was treated to a badly scared and mangled face, and felt himself being looked through by two milky glass like orbs.

“A pleasure to see you again, Derek.” She shook Derek’s hand, he was unphased by her appearance, having grown up with her face like that his entire life, it was the only face he’d known her to have. Stiles kind of hoped he didn’t make a fool of himself any more then he already had with her. “and this is the famous Stiles.” She took Stiles’ hand and let him kiss her hand.

“How am I famous?” Stiles asked innocently.

“My dear boy. What other reason would we have to come this far south?” She gave a gnarled smile. “Especially at this unsightly hour.” She gave a sharp look at the other guests. “If they hadn’t agreed I might still be at home in my bed. But his Highness didn’t want to waste this chance when he got it.” She shrugged, her bare shoulders seeming strange so smooth and unmarred in contrasts to her face.

“Now Elena, you know very well I couldn’t refuse my guests, when they finally accepted my invitation.” Lucas smiled as he lead Derek towards a man and woman who seemed to be dressed in expensive furs, his features slightly dark and hers fresh and creamy, both bearing facial tattoos. Stiles could feel the fae blood in them as he approached. “Especially after all these years.” He smiled.

“My dear Lord Hale, I do so apologize for our need to turn down your invitation for so long, but there wasn’t such a promise of a spectacle as this one.” The man said with an air of authority as he looked at Stiles more then King Lucas, but he seemed to take it in stride.

“No need to apologize Lord Oberon, I understand completely.” He looked at Derek who looked a little shocked. “Derek, may I present King Oberon, high king of all fae, and his bride, Queen Titania.” He smiled. “King Oberon, Lady Titania, may I present, Prince Derek Hale, my grandson.” Derek shook their hands, but they seemed to have only casual interest in him. They’re eyes seemed to be glued to Stiles.

“And who am I inquire is this creature?” Lord Oberon looked fixedly at Stiles’ face.

“My Grandson in law, Stiles Stilinski. I’m told he was born human, but through divine intervention is now a Djinn fae.” King Lucas seemed pleased by this, a lot more then King Edward had been, Stiles was sure.

“A new born Djinn, most… interesting.” Lord Oberon held out his hand and Stiles blushed. “Surely they have taught you manners boy.” Lord Oberon raised a dark eyebrow.

“Yes sir, they have. Which is why I’m not touching your hand. I don’t have control over my new powers and I think it would be rude to use them on you.” Stiles said politely.

“What powers would I fear?” Lord Oberon chuckled, but Stiles held out his hand to shake and Lord Oberon’s laugh died on his lips as his eyes got wide and he looked at Stiles’ tattooed hands. Derek hadn’t even noticed them till that moment, wondering how he’d missed such massively intricate tattoos.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Oberon, and you as well Lady Titania. I just assumed it would be rude to touch you when I can’t control this yet.” He showed the other hand was the same.

“Very polite, though not always prudent to show one’s … hand as it were.” Lord Oberon covered his discomfort.

“My instructor told me I’m rare.” Stiles smiled politely.

“Have you learned any tricks you can show us?” King Lucas asked from where he was standing, watching with playful wolven eyes this give and take.

“A few your highness.” Stiles closed his eyes and let himself transform, feeling the pooled heat in his skin spread as he opened his eyes to take in the shocked expressions from all the gathered party members.

“A golden flame Djinn… quite rare.” Lady Titania nodded.

“And may I inquire what kind of Djinn?” Lord Oberon looked at Stiles carefully.

“My instructor says I’m a Harem Djinn, Lord Oberon.” He let himself transform back to looking normally, feeling himself flush slightly because he knew that the fae in the room would know what he was.

“You are a lucky man Lord Hale.” Lord Oberon chuckled.

“Why do you say that?” Derek asked, as Stiles blushed and hoped he’d be tactful.

“A Harem Djinn’s magic is fueled by their sexual proclivities. To be frank, he’ll need lots of sex and often to fuel his powers. You’re a lucky man. Not every husband finds a wife willing to be bred often and hard.” He smirked as his wife gave him a distained look.

“And not every wife is as lucky as to be blind to her husband’s dalliances.” She said tartly before Stiles coughed to get attention back on him.

“I want to welcome you both to our home.” Stiles bowed to them.

“Such a gracious invitation. We will have to remember to extend a similar welcome when you come to Avalon.” Lord Oberon smiled.

“My Lord?” Stiles blushed.

“Every new born fae must spend some time on Avalon. It helps… root them to their power.” Lord Oberon smiled again.

“Well I think I’d love to visit someday then.” Stiles smiled, as King Lucas lead them towards his other guests. Stiles’ eyes got big but he managed to keep himself quiet as he was introduced to one of his instructors.

“Derek, Stiles, this is Lord Micheal Blackleaf, King of the Spriggans, and his son and Prince Daniel Blackleaf.” He smiled. “Lord Blackleaf, my Grandson and his husband.” Lord Blackleaf reached out and shook Derek’s hand and as he reached for Stiles’ hand, his hands wrapped in black leather like leaves.

“A pleasure to meet you both. I’ve not been to this kingdom for many years. Not since before my son was born. In truth it should be something of a homecoming. His mother is at court here.”

“Lord Blackleaf, we don’t have any Spriggans in our court that I’m aware of.” Derek blushed.

“Oh his mother isn’t of our blood. She’s a banshee. Royal though she is, she resides here. This hall carries the stink of her.” Derek’s face drained as he realized that Lord Blackleaf was talking about Lydia. “I came partly just to have a word with my way ward son’s mother. But also on the advice of an old friend and a chance to pay off an old debt. Tell me Stiles, have you slept with my son as well?” Stiles’ jaw fell open as Danny blushed and looked away. “I won’t be offended if you have. After all his mother has him whoring himself out to anyone who can curry her favor. I’m sure it wont be too long before she sends him into your bed chamber to curry favor with his lips or ass. I’m told the boy is rather skilled at the art of seducing a man.” He talked about Danny like he wasn’t even there.

“No, Lord Blackleaf, I have not slept with your son. Though I do take offense to the question and the manor in which you address your son.” Stiles looked at him like he was one of the foulest things to walk the earth.

“It’s of no matter. The boy is a tool to be used to gain power and ply those with power to spill their secrets as they spill their essence in his delicate vessel.” He shrugged, sipping on a glass goblet of wine as he looked at his son with a look of utter disregard. Stiles’ hand darted out before he could think to stop himself, his hand glowing gold as a fist where the cup had been, and the spray of wine the only tell he’d just crushed the glass in his hand. Lord Blackleaf looked down at Stiles, his face a mask of rage, dripping with his raspberry colored wine. The room narrowed seemed to narrow down, quiet and still radiating out between the two. “You raised a fist of power to me?” Lord Blackleaf’s voice quivered in anger.

“You need to talk about Danny with a little bit of class.” Stiles’ voice radiated with power just then.

“I am a king, you are a princes’ bed warmer, you do not dare presume to…” He made to smack Stiles but his hand caught his, the leaves bursting into golden flames and dropping away.

{YOU WOULD DARE STRIKE ME!} Stiles fully transformed, his hand clutching Lord Blackleaf’s was leaching power from him as the tattoos grew. He was crushing the Spriggan’s wrist, while burning it with his sheer presence. {I who watched you crawl in swamps as a child, and know the darkest things you hide. You would presume to lord over me and strike at me? Know pain before you die.} Lord Blackleaf screamed as he fell to his knees, the elevators opening revealing King Edward and his party as well as King Peter and his entire party as well.

“Hell. Why did no one stop time?” Lydia asked from where she was standing.

“Stop… the fae can stop time?” Peter looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

“Hell if I’m resetting all this I’m going to have some fun first.” She pulled a dagger out of thin air, stabbing Peter in the heart as she kicked him squarely in the crotch with her steel toed stilettos. He crumpled in on himself as he lay bleeding to death. Jacob launched himself at her and froze mid air, all of the time in the room stopped. “As if.” She shook her head and stepped down the stairs.

“We were preventing them from doing that.” Lord Oberon smirked.

“We were enjoying the show.” Lady Titania quipped.

“And I have to live amongst the heathens, ill mannered and ill groomed werewolves and mortals. I do not find this funny, nor do I condone such behavior.” She walked hotly over to Stiles. “Let him go.”

“He insulted Danny and…”

“Half the fae world has insulted Daniel. They don’t understand what I’m doing and I frankly do not care. Did you stop to bother asking Daniel if he does?” She looked at him and could tell at a glance her son was bothered, but more so by the spectacle to protect his honor.

“I can feel it.” Stiles ground out, his voice like a burning flame but more human now that she’d distracted him.

“Yes. And I’ll appreciate that later. For now… let his father go.” Stiles looked at her.

“No.” Stiles glared at her.

“Oh enough child, release him, he’s learned…”

{NO!} Stiles let the full force of his voice weigh on everyone in the room.

“YOU WILL LET HIM GO THIS INSTANT!” Lord Oberon stood to his full height, putting the full force of his magic behind that simple command. But stiles raised a hand and batted the magic of the Lord’s voice away as if it were a child’s magic. The whole room was taken aback at the sheer power inside this child.

{In days past I would have stripped him of his power and slowly peeled him for the things he said about his son in public company. But to strike me… ME! There is no forgiveness for that.} Stiles’ voice burned those who heard it.

“We don’t even know who you are.” Lord Oberon snapped.

{I am the dawn, of burning fury and wild passion. I am the heart of the eternal flame that gave life to the Fae and brought them from existence. I am the one who held you in your first moments of life and I am the one who will one day stomp his boot down upon your skull if you attempt to command me above your station again.} The room seem to crack and splinter, time and reality itself was starting to fray as he spoke. {I AM DESHAMBA!} The earth quaked under their feet dropping everyone but Stiles and Lord Blackleaf who was still screaming. {And I will not put up with this insolence.} He picked up Lord Blackleaf by his wrist, the chard remains of the wrist looking like it could snap. {I find no fault in your offspring, for that reason alone I do not end you here and now low pathetic beast. But know this. If by dawn you speak one ill word of him and not a single word of kindness to him in public, I will make your death the stuff of epic legends so that even the furies and gods of old will weep in fear of what I shall do to you.} Deshamba dropped the fae who curled around his nearly destroyed ember of a wrist, weeping in pain. He looked around the room and shouted, causing the fae who’d been coming and going unseen to become full visible, his voice like a roaring fire. {I find no fault with this fae, I judge him to be clean of sin. The next person to speak ill of him will incur my wrath.} He pointed at Danny. {Now, return} Time wove backwards to the moment Lord Blackleaf began speaking.

“It’s of no matter…. I…” He looked around at the room of people who were watching him, his drinking glass in his hand, unbroken and Stiles standing beside Derek, as if nothing had happened. “I’m sorry, the wine seems to have gone to my head. It’s been a long journey.” He dropped his hand down, his sleeve hiding the scorch mark in the shape of Stiles’ palm on his wrist. “I do not mean to be offensive. My son is my heir, I am proud to claim him.” He nodded to Stiles. They were in the midst of moving on to talk to the last guest in the party when the elevators open revealing King Edward and King Peter as well as their assembled parties stepping out to greet the High King.

“Looks like I have to play diplomat again.” King Lucas chuckled as he left Derek and Stiles to go greet his daughter, son, and son in law as well as various grandchildren. Lydia shot Danny a look before gliding her way slowly to Stiles.

“You and I need to have a talk.” She said quietly.

“Why, I didn’t break any rules.”

“You nearly broke Lord Blackleaf.” She snipped.

“Uh… I might have been a little rude but I didn’t break him.”

“Is that what you call leaving a chard hand print where his wrist used to be?”

“I didn’t touch him.” Stiles frowned, looking at Lord Blackleaf who wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Why what would make you think I did?” He frowned harder.

“You really don’t remember what just happened?”

“Did you guys… you know… again?” Stiles looked around.

“Someone apparently did. We’ll talk later.” She drifted to greet Lord Oberon.

“My lord.” She bowed.

“Impressive. I get invited to a spectacle to pay back an old favor, and witness a fae god teaching a royal manors.” Lord Oberon smirked. “I do shutter to think what you have planned for this week to top that.”

“Something tells me I’ll be shuttering right alone with you.” Lydia sighed.

“And you know since were here’ there will be a full conclave called here too.” He smiled as Lydia went pale. A full conclave, all the leaders of all the fae factions, here … together… at once… now? Her face betrayed nothing else of her warring emotions as she thanked him and drifted towards Lord Blackleaf.

“We need to speak about… a great deal of things.” Lord Blackleaf said quietly.

“Yes. We do. Chief amongst them is tone it down. I know you are trying to tow the party line that everyone hates our son.” She looked at Danny. “But it would seem that doing so offends the god in the room. I suggest you stick to pleasant topics, and let me have a word with our son.” She drifted over to Danny to a dark corner. “Did you know?”

“That he had the hand of the king, yes, that he was a god, no, Mistress mine.” He looked out at Stiles who was mingling.

“What is your father doing here?”

“From what I could gather out of the Spriggan who showed up at court and said he had a message for father… Calrg himself showed up and demanded the Spriggan tell my father and Lord Oberon to be here tonight, and all their debts to him are forgiven.”

“Calrg made this happen… publically…” She sighed. “Calrg knows about Deshamba… of course he does.” She muttered. “Thick as thieves those two. We need to make sure that no one else knows about this.” She hissed.

“That’ll be interesting when the full conclave arrives. While the wolves will expect to see those of us who arrived with Lord Hale… the others… will be going unseen. Wreaking havoc on this castle for the next week. How are we supposed to contain that kind of mischief and hide him from them.” Danny pointed out.

“We’re going to need help. Call on Ion he’ll…”

“He’s the reason I was at court with my father when the messenger showed up.”

“What’s happened?”

“He’s petitioned father for the right to marry me.” Lydia’s face went blank. “Because Caror has taken it upon himself to tell every royal he can get a word to, that I’m his son’s whore now, and that clearly I’m unfit to marry.”

“So Ion demands your hand?” Lydia frowned.

“Because Caror is trying to create a war between the Frostlings and the Spriggans. And the only way to stop it and salvage anyone’s dignity is for me to be married to one fae and taken off the game board entirely.” He sighed.

“Caror is playing a dangerous game. Is he coming to the conclave or is he sending his brother, or will their father attend?”

“No one knows. I’m kind of hoping his father or his brother, but knowing Caror, he won’t miss an opportunity to drive his opinions down everyone’s throats.” Danny crossed his arms.

“You’re not happy to be marrying your frosted lover?”

“I am, but I wanted him to propose out of love, not duty.” He sighed. “And he doesn’t know about this.” He rolled his sleeve down enough to display a Djinn rune on his wrist.

“What’s that?” She frowned, feeling the power of it.

“A royal Djinn curse. Only a higher ranking royal Djinn may remove it.” He sighed. “It binds me to only take pleasure from sex with Djinn males, and only receiving.” He said hotly.

“Caror’s doing I assume.” She glared at the room at large.

“I can only guess. Since Ernat can’t remove it. And he’s tried. I don’t want to damage Ion farther by telling him.” He looked away.

“My dear boy someone has to. Or he’ll look a fool on your wedding night.”

“I think that’s what Caror is hoping.”

“Use you to start a war. Not while I’m still playing this game. Where’s the Spriggan who sent the message?”

“I had him brought to the garden under guard. I assumed you would want to speak to him.” He nodded towards the garden.

“Always my son. Always.” She kissed his cheek and floated out to the garden.

“Where do you think she’s off to?” Deaton said quietly seemingly to himself, his mother standing several feet away. Not a single druid was standing with in forty foot of one another, but each was wearing a beaded bracelet that had a single rune stone in it’s construction.

“Who cares? Let the fae play their games. How is your operation going?” Elena asked calmly.

“My piece is on the board and in place.” Deaton looked at Matt for a moment.

“You should hurry with that.” Braedon said casually. “That one will be coming with me at the end of the week. Him and the cute one.”

“That’s if my big bad wolf doesn’t fuck everything up again.” Tony said as he leaned against the stairs looking for all the world thoroughly disengaged from the party.

“You need to control Peter better.” Elena chided her son.

“Mother, I set him to enslaving the boy so we could get him in place for the ritual. And I may have accidently dropped the essence sharing spell where he could see it tonight. So I know he has plans for Scott to keep him here as long as he can, which buys Deaton plenty of time to get Matt in place.”

“Yes, but I don’t like using a pawn who thinks it’s a king.” Elena sighed. “They tend to think too much of themselves and over step.”

“That is why we need to finish this.” Deaton looked at Edward then.

“In good time. The king has a few well wishes in him tonight, and then we’ll know the lay of the land to plot.” Elena straightened her cloths. Looking down at her runestone, she sighed. “I can’t wait till we leash these mutts once and for all.” She strode off to wish Talia a good evening and say her hellos.

While else where in the world, Ion was pacing back and forth in his bedroom his natures at war with one another as he paced back and forth.

“You do realize you’re going to wear a hole in the floor, right?” Alexander sat there, his soft golden hair long and shaggy since he’d come to stay here amongst the Frostlings. The chair he was on the only item not covered in thick frost in the room.

“I think what he means to say is, SIT THE FUCK DOWN.” Irna sighed crossly as she glared at her brother.

“He hasn’t said yes.” Ion said as reason enough to keep walking.

“Yes because the last thing one would expect of being called to court with your father is that your boyfriend wants to marry you to protect his and your honor from being sullied and starting a war.” Irna rolled her eyes as she flipped through the book she was reading.

“It’s the truth.” Ion muttered.

“That may be the case.” Alexander hedged. “But you could have done it with a bit more romantic flair.” Alexander pointed out.

“You think that’s why he hasn’t said yes yet?” Ion looked pained.

“Oh for fuck sakes. Brother, you marched to his father and proposed a business deal. Instead of asking to marry your boyfriend because you love him. WHILE he’s in the room no less. He’s probably still licking his wounds from what that feels like. I mean, hearing how you were THERE to watch his fall from grace… and to bring it to his father…” She sighed heavily. “And the fact of the matter is no one really knows why he does… that.” She said tactfully.

“Besides what Caror keeps telling everyone?” Ion said bitterly.

“Like our father hasn’t danced us about like pieces on a board since we were old enough to show which way we leaned when it came in the bed chamber? Dancing our favor back and forth between the houses when ever he needed help with this or that? Thankfully he never suggested out right sex for either of us.” She shrugged. “But Daniel is different. Always has been. Maybe it’s how his people do things. Maybe it’s a game. No one knows.” She pointed out to her brother. “Except for him and his mother I suspect, and you need to actually talk to one of them to get a feel for that mess.” She went back to her book.

“So you’re saying maybe there’s a reason for all the sex?” Ion bit his lip as he paced.

“I think she’s saying he wouldn’t just do it. I’ve met Daniel, he’s not very… overtly sexual with people.” He shrugged.

“Well you’re straight.” Ion scoffed and started pacing again.

“Yep. I like women. So you’re saying he’s above hitting on me if it’s a plan but not if it’s just for sex?” Alexander tilted his head as he studied Ion who stopped stock still.

“Shit.” He hung his head.

“Just realized you were prejudging him as a slut too?” Irma asked as she flipped the page of her book. “I could have told you that a while ago and saved us all some time if you’d asked.” She shrugged. “My point is. I don’t like how he plays the game. But I can appreciate that he’s playing some game. Do I think it’s to lure you into a trap, no. So I don’t fight him much when he comes around. I think anything with you involved is purely out of pure love. You’d have to be blind and a moron not to see that.” She looked up from her book. “Or were you seriously thinking that trick he learned just for you with his tongue was all to make the future King of the Frostlings side with him in future conflicts?” She batted her eyes at her brother who blushed slight, a pale blue color high on his cheeks.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Alexander smirked.

“You really thought he did that with everyone?” She scoffed. “You realize our generation TALKS about who they’re bedding right? I know more about who’s slept with who and who likes what where in bed then anyone but maybe Daniel, and trust me, you’re the only one who gets that tongue thing.” She shook her head.

“But why would he…”

“He learned that trick solely because you liked it.” She rolled her eyes with a deep sigh. “Because he loves you and wants you to like sex with him.” She looked up at him sharply.

“I’ve been a horrible boyfriend haven’t I.” Ion sat down.

“HE GETS IT!” Irna threw her hands up into the air. “Finally. So, when the conclave starts tomorrow, get him alone and TALK TO THE BOY.” She walked over and stood in front of her brother. “Worst you can learn is he can’t marry you or it’ll ruin what ever master plan his mother has going. At best… you’ll realize you were a complete idiot and he’s head over heels for you and willing to do anything you want.” She shrugged. “At any rate, I have boys to impress tomorrow.” She smirked. “And a dress so sheer it’ll look sinfully painted on my naked body.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “And if you’re lucky I’ll find something just as dirty for you to apologize to Daniel with.” She walked out of his bedroom closing the doors with a brass click.

“Have I ever mentioned your sister is a giant tease?” Alexander smirked.

“Oh don’t even start down that path. I like you Alexander; I don’t want you as a brother in law.” Ion shook his head.

“We’d make beautiful babies together, if they could survive long enough to be born that is.” He shrugged. “But I have a feeling my marriage will be more about contracts and negotiated peace talks.” He leaned back in his chair.

“I’m being a big baby griping that I get to love the man I love aren’t I.” He sighed and laid back on his bed.

“Think of it like this… if there is a game going. What game and why?” Alexander posed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well what did he get out of it?”

“He got Ernat.” Ion fought back the urge to be angry about that.

“Why would he need a Djinn, he’s a wood fae, what could he need a fire fae for?”

“The only reason you need a Djinn is to handle another Djinn.”

“So he’s got a Djinn on his hands, has no idea what to do with it, so he has to get his hands on anther Djinn… he shows up and finds Caror on the throne… do you think he planned to end up sleeping with the son of the guy, as well as the guy himself, who wanted to frame him as a complete slut in front of you?” Alexander prompted.

“Of course not.” Ion posed. “So Caror manipulated that situation… but still why would Daniel have a Djinn in the first place.”

“That I don’t know. But I can’t see the whole board. Just the parts I’ve puzzled out. I figure that’s how Lydia does it. Never lets anyone see more then a few parts of the board, and keeps us all from talking about it by masking it in impropriety with Daniel in bed.”

“We don’t talk about it do we.” Ion sat up. “I mean we do talk about it. We talk about it all the time, everyone does. About who he’s sleeping with and how big of a slut or whore he is… but no one ever stops to go, why. What is he getting out of it?” Ion frowned. “Lydia’s been planning a dangerous game with her son’s body… and no one’s caught on in all these years?”

“She’s living in a castle full of wolves and has them believing she can’t leave at any minute, how do we know what she is or isn’t really doing?” Alexander shrugged. “But I agree with your sister. Ask him. Talk to him. And do it wearing nothing at all.” He smirked.

“You’re no help.” Ion blushed. “Besides that’s how Daniel would apologize.” He sighed.

“So how do you apologize to him?”

“I never have…” Ion realized with a start.

“Then maybe it’s time I leave you alone to figure out your own moves for apologizing to your boyfriend.” Alexander stood, walking to the door but pausing as he stood at the threshold. “Make sure you’re alone when you talk. I have a feeling they wouldn’t play this game the way they do if they wanted just anyone to know what was really going on.” Alexander nodded at Ion before closing the door.

“Great… figure out your boyfriend’s secret, apologize for being wrong, and ask him about his secret, all before morning. I don’t think I have enough time stopping powder to ever figure this out properly.” He sighed, sagging back against the bed. “And here I thought I was going to get it easy and just get to marry my lover and have an easy life till my father dies and I become king.” Ion closed his eyes and tried to picture the why’s behind Danny’s actions.