Chapter Text
The trees swayed slightly in the wind as Peter walked the perimeter of the clearing around his home. The land was buzzing, more alive than usual, which Peter thought to be a good metaphor for what would be the following weeks.
The supernatural community was abuzz with the news.
There was a Spark looking for a mate.
Sparks were rare, and there are only a few of them in the world. Their magic was considered pure, nearly limitless and is entirely powered by their will.
This particular Spark came into the spotlight several years ago after he drug several hunting families (literally in some cases) in front of the Hunter’s Council and forced them to change their outdated hunting practices.
Having one as part of a pack would provide an unmitigated magical boost.
The boy was something of an enigma, which was a difficult feat to accomplish in their community. Supes were some of the most vicious gossips in the world. But it never failed that whenever someone claimed to have met the Spark, they could never remember exactly what he looked like.
They could describe his actions, words and personality, but never his face.
Peter was loathe to admit it, but it was a smart move. He would forever be hunted because of what he was, so the less people that knew what he looked like the better.
Which is also, unfortunately, what led him the Hale Pack. It was ideal for any magic user to have a secure and safe base of operations and this Spark was odd in the fact that he seemed to live a fairly nomadic lifestyle. In order to find someone to mate with he would need a more permanent location. According to the gossip he was interested in mating with a werewolf and pack politics and tradition stated that he could accept a courting suit from whichever pack he chose.
Werewolves were instinctual creatures, so it would be fairly obvious if one of them found the Spark to be a compatible mate. Ideally, his magic would also recognize the potential bond.
As a mated Alpha Talia provided neutral territory on the west coast, where the Spark happened to be from, and Beacon Hills did provide the best possibility of protection, with the ley lines and the Nemeton.
So, he would be staying at the pack house for the duration of his courting, along with a few of his friends.
Luckily their town could accommodate a large crowd.
Peter scowled in the ancient tree's general direction. He rounded the corner of the house to where his sister was making a halfhearted attempt to corral their pack into some semblance of order for the Sparks arrival. He concealed a smile at the pinched look on his niece's face.
The pack's heads all tilted in unison at the sound of car finally making its way up the gravel road to the house.
Talia breathed deeply next to him as it halted at the edge of the curve, about thirty feet or so from them.
Three people climbed out of the car, two young men and a redheaded woman. They made no move towards the pack.
It was impossible to tell which of them was the magic user, but as far as entourages went, Peter was thoroughly unimpressed.
A dark-haired boy looked around, looked at his watch and sighed explosively. The redhead woman observed the pack shrewdly and a blonde boy lounged against the door seemingly uninterested. Peter bristled slightly at their blatant lack of respect, but a side eye from Talia made him bite his tongue. He knew there was a protocol, and that protocol dictated that the Spark would be the first to speak.
After about thirty seconds of teeth grinding from Peter, the three straightened and looked towards the woods. Peter's eyes followed their line of sight until he saw a figure emerging from the trees.
There was no mistaking that this was the Spark.
He walked with a lethal grace, hands in his pockets and head tilted down slightly. His entire body had a soft glow to it.
Three bodies moved in unison to flank him, and they walked the remaining distance to the pack.
As if sensing his perusal, the boy looked up, right at Peter, his whiskey-colored eyes flashing in the sun.
Oh. Peter briefly wondered if the young man hid his face for safety, or because every ‘wolf within ten miles would be looking to court him.
He was certainly NOT what Peter was expecting. His body was long and lithe, with wide shoulders that tapered into a narrow waist. Pale skin covered with beauty marks that Peter was sure made many a wolf want to mark him up themselves. There also looked to be quite a bit of lean muscle hiding under that ridiculous plaid shirt.
He held the Spark’s piercing gaze for a moment before they slide over to his sister. Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
"Alpha Hale, I apologize for my tardiness, it's been a long time since I've been immersed in the deep magic of woods like yours," he said with a soft smile.
Ah, Peter thought, that explains the glow.
His voice was deep and melodic. It was unexpectedly soothing to Peter's nerves.
"Thank you for extending the hospitality and safety of the Hale Pack during this time. I hope it won't cause too much trouble for you and your family.” He continued.
The words were sincere, but there was an undercurrent Peter couldn't place.
"We are happy to be of service, Spark," Talia responded graciously.
His faced pinched at the moniker, but he didn't correct her.
Fascinating. Peter also expected to smell the typical ozone scent associated with magic, but there was nothing. No scent, no sounds, just silence. It was disconcerting.
He continued, “I realize our being here will bring many packs together, and I will be as transparent as possible with regards to what needs to happen and what will be required of you and your ‘wolves.”
Talia nodded, looking to Peter to confirm. He gave her a head nod, but also flared his nose, knowing she would pick up on his meaning. She cleared her throat.
"In the interest of mutual transparency, I must admit, I find it strange that there are no scents from your party." Talia said carefully. The boy nodded in response.
"I keep their scents hidden for safety," he explained.
"I would like my pack to be familiar with their scents, both for their safety and so there are no misunderstandings," Talia said with a kind smile, holding firm, "I'm afraid there's no way around it. It would be unfortunate if an unfamiliar scent popped up in the territory and it sounded the alarms."
The Spark was silent for a moment, choosing his next words just a carefully.
"I know scent is important for most ‘weres," he finally responded, "but they are hidden for a reason."
Interesting how he kept himself separate from the other three.
“I apologize, but it really would be for the best,” Talia said with a tight smile.
Stiles narrowed his eyes, obviously not pleased with her adamance. They flicked to Peter momentarily, like he knew this was the wolf's doing. Peter wanted to smile. It was a dance of dominance, Talia needed to establish a firm boundary on her own land, but the Spark was obviously the more powerful of the two. The question was, would he concede?
He turned to his companions. The two men nodded at his look, but he held the eyes of the redhead the longest. It was obvious they were used to this silent communication. After few tense moments, she finally gave a brief nod.
Well, Peter could respect his loyalty at least. Stiles raised a hand, ready to drop the magic, but he hesitated a moment.
"I have to ask that you keep control of your wolves, none of us will harm your pack, you have my word," he said seriously, eyes locked with Talia.
Talia jerked her head, obviously surprised by the sincerity behind the words.
Peter held back a scoff. Why would a pack of wolves need protection from four teenagers?
With the barest wave of his hand, the curtain lifted.
The reaction was instant. Several low growls filled the air, the hairs on Peter's arm stood straight up and a weight settled in his chest. He felt his eyes flash without his consent.
The air was heavy, saturated with conflicting scents.
He looked over, and Talia's eyes were red. One of their newest members, a hellhound, was practically vibrating.
Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw a flash and before he could stop it, one of the younger pups had broken the line and was barreling towards the group, ready to pounce.
Peter had barely started to move, and the pup was frozen mid leap, and the scents were cloaked again.
"Alpha Hale," the Spark asked dryly, "is this how you keep control of your wolves?"
Of course, it was Isaac. Peter ground his teeth together to keep his snarl in. The boy was a loose cannon and wouldn't even be here if not for the importance of the Spark’s visit.
Peter had never seen his sister at a loss for words before.
No one dared to even breathe as the pup was lowered gently to the ground. They all knew enough to know that Isaac's outburst could be construed as an act of war.
The Spark approached him slowly. Tilting Isaac's chin up with two fingers, he studied the young werewolf thoughtfully.
"You've crossed the veil," Stiles murmured. There was a collective gasp among the pack. Talia made an aborted move towards her beta but stopped when his eyes flicked up.
He looked back down at the wolf and spoke gently. "It's ok pup, Lydia is a banshee. Your wolf sensed her power and went on the offensive. It was a defense mechanism, nothing more."
Talia practically deflated next to him and Peter barely held back from doing the same. That also explained the hellhound’s reaction. Two beacons of death in the same place would be tough, Peter would need to keep an eye on their interactions.
Isaac might be a pain in his ass, but he was fond of the boy.
"You might want to let her help you with the darkness," Stiles continued as if none of them were there, "if you let it fester too long it will consume you."
The Spark released his chin and Isaac nodded shakily before backing away slowly, folding himself into Talia's arms.
"I assume my request will granted now?" The Spark directed the question at Talia with a wry smile.
Talia nodded above Isaac's head. "I'm not ashamed to admit I severely underestimated the company you keep."
He merely nodded in response, like he had been expecting those words. Peter had to imagine that was not the first time he'd protected his companions from impetuous creatures. Another wave of his hand and the air was light again. Although Peter suspected the wave was only for their benefit.
"Lydia's power will settle as soon as we make a trip out to the Nemeton. I stopped by on my way here to check it out," he said casually. Peter's eyes widened in surprise. The Nemeton was notoriously difficult to locate, even when it wanted to be found.
"What's your name?" Isaac asked timidly, peeking out from Talia's arms.
"You can call me Stiles," he said with a soft smile.
Stiles. It sounded fake.
Stiles continued, motioning to the blonde behind him. "Jackson is a kanima, but I act as a pseudo master, so his presence will pose no threat. And this is Scott," he gestured to the dark-haired boy.
Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment. "I gotta say though, I thought that if anyone would stir up shit it would be him, he's a True Alpha," he said with a shrug.
Scott's ears turned pink, and he inclined his head as a sign of respect.
Peter had to give his sister credit, she didn't miss a beat.
"Your companions are most welcome here."
Stiles smiled like he won something, and Peter almost swallowed his tongue. Lydia's eyes also softened considerably, and she no longer looked like she would kill them without a second thought.
Jackson remained silent, eyes roving over the pack.
Assessing threats, Peter realized.
Stiles tested their collective control through scent, which is stronger for werewolves, with the banshee first. She had to have seen the cloud of darkness surrounding Isaac before they approached, if that were true. And then he tested their loyalty by dropping the True Alpha tidbit and seeing how Talia, and by extension the rest of them, reacted.
Peter had no doubt Stiles would have reacted swiftly in response to any danger. None of them stood a chance against the power this group held.
It took effort to keep the stupefied expression off his face.
Peter retracted his earlier statement. He was more than impressed.
This boy managed to bring together the perfect group of supes to complement his spark. The true alpha, who by nature would never crave his power, the kanima, who would never betray him and the banshee who could bring him back if the purity of his spark was ever tainted.
He seemed to have their unwavering loyalty, and they had his in return.
It was nothing short of amazing.
Four of the rarest supes ever created were standing in their driveway next to his niece's dirty pickup truck.
Peter needed to sit down.
A look at his sister's face revealed a similar revelation. It made Peter wonder why the boy needed a mate at all.
"Alpha Hale?"
Stiles looked at her expectantly.
Talia started next to him, having completely forgot about protocol in the wake of Isaac's little jump scare.
"Please call me Talia," she said graciously. He nodded in agreement and his tawny eyes followed her motions as she made her way down the line. Peter watched how he took in every detail, memorizing names and faces.
"And this is Peter, my enforcer." She said, waving a hand towards him.
Stiles' golden eyes perused slowly down his body in blatant appraisal and Peter's stomach swooped unexpectedly at the motion.
Did the Spark consider him a threat?
It was a disconcerting thought to say the least, mostly because for the first time Peter wasn’t at the top of the food chain.
It should concern him that the shiver the thought caused wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
As they all shuffled toward the house, Stiles leaned over and whispered into the ear of the kanima, who grinned ferally before turning and disappearing around the side of the SUV they arrived in.
He then started speaking lowly to his other companions.
Peter was slightly concerned, but not willing to speak up after the Isaac incident. The Spark was known to be forgiving, but his patience was not limitless.
Peter had also heard he could be quite bloodthirsty as well, which made him even more interesting, but that might be a second night kind of conversation.
Peter looked back to where Isaac was sniffing into Derek's shoulder after Talia passed him off and sighed. They would need to discuss what happened, but he would give the kid a break for tonight.
He looked back as Talia approached. Peter could tell that she was relieved the introduction was over.
“It could have been worse,” he said with a sharp smile. She shook her head at him, smiling tiredly.
"Talia?" Stiles’ voice came from directly behind him and Peter barely kept from jumping in surprise.
The little shit had the nerve to smirk at the startled wolves.
What the hell? How did he manage to sneak up on me? Was Peter's initial thought.
His second thought was that Stiles was even prettier up close.
"I was hoping we could talk privately? There are some things I would like to discuss about this.... situation." The boy scowled at the word and scuffed one shoe on the ground like a scolded child. Peter bit down a grin. It was obvious from his tone that Stiles was no more excited about the prospect of mating than Peter might be.
"Yes of course," Talia smiled kindly and motioned him towards the house. Stiles walked with her, leaving Peter to trail behind. He tried to keep his eyes off the jean clad ass in front of him, but it was proving rather difficult.
He heard a snort from behind him and turned to see Lydia rolling her eyes and Scott smirking.
In lieu of a tour they made their way straight up to the Alpha’s office, the soundproofing wards activating as soon as the door was closed.
“Thank god that’s over,” Stiles said with a weary smile. “It’s hard to be that formal and remember all the steps.”
Peter barked out a laugh and Talia’s eyes crinkled affectionately.
“I’m sure this can’t be easy for you,” she said with a gentle smile, a mother to the very end.
“I always intended to take a mate to help balance my spark, but I hate the fact that their forcing the issue,” Stiles said with a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
A sharp tap on the window drew their attention. Peter's eyes widened when he recognized the Kanima hanging from one hand outside the glass. Stiles walked to the sill and opened the window wide enough to let him in.
Jackson hopped through gracefully, heedless of the burlap sack thrown over his shoulder. He dropped the bag at Stiles' feet and rolled his shoulders, letting the shift recede.
Watching the kanima's scales recede was fascinating. Peter wondered if the young man would talk to him about the transformation. He was so distracted by the change it took him a moment to realize that the bag Jackson dropped on the floor was wiggling around.
He and Talia exchanged a wide-eyed look. Stiles seemed entirely unbothered and thanked the blonde before motioning for him to stand next to the banshee.
Stiles cleared his throat. "It's tradition to bring gifts for the Alpha and the pack, and I struggled with what would be appropriate and appreciated."
Interesting that he made those two different categories, Peter thought with amusement.
"I know it's old one, but when an enemy has wronged a pack it's tradition to bring that enemy to justice as an ally. As such Alpha Hale...." Stiles held out a hand and the brown, scratchy fabric melted away like sugar in the rain.
Talia's low growl reverberated through the room and Peter let loose a vicious snarl, claws popping instantly.
Kate.
Her eyes burned with hatred as she glared up at them. There wasn’t much she could do tied the way she was and seeing someone helpless, laying on the floor in their house never gave him so much satisfaction.
“It’s your choice what to do with her,” Stiles said quietly. She stilled at his voice, and the hatred faded into something else. Fear.
Peter was suddenly feeling a whole new level of respect for the Spark. Kate was nasty, violent and unrelenting. Theirs wasn’t the only pack she terrorized before going underground. And she feared him.
Perhaps the rumors about the Spark’s bloodthirst were not unfounded.
Talia looked to Peter. Of course, they had discussed what they would do if they ever caught her, but usually the plan involved a chase ending with Peter gloriously disemboweling her and then sending her head back to her father in a gift-wrapped box.
Peter even had the paper.
For once in his life, Peter was at a loss for words. He turned to Stiles.
“What would you recommend?”
He knew he made the right choice when the boy smiled delightedly.
“I know the guy who runs the supe ward of the prison in LA. They hold some of their most dangerous creatures there. I think she qualifies, don’t you?” He asked with a smirk.
He would use the paper to wrap a present for Stiles instead. Something expensive
Kate stared shrieking behind the duct tape. All it took was Stiles moving a foot in her direction and she quieted down.
“She’s all yours Alpha Hale,” Stiles said, grinning widely. He made a motion, and she was instantly covered by the burlap sack again. Peter hoped it chafed all the way to LA.
Jackson stepped forward again and grabbed her, crossing back to the window and leaping out. Peter wondered whether him banging Kate’s head on the sill was intentional.
"I also give you this," Stiles said, holding out a hand to each of them. They each grabbed a palm warily, not knowing what to expect.
"Close your eyes and keep breathing," Stiles instructed. They complied and Peter felt like the air was punched from his lungs. By the time he was able to get his breathing under control, the scene had settled around them and they watched, speechless, as Stiles and his companions cornered Gerard. Peter realized, with astonishment, that they were watching a scene playing from Stiles’ memories.
"It needs to be done, Scott. That man is a menace to the supernatural community," Stiles huffed, gesturing at the man tied to the chair in front of them.
"I know, but..." Scott's response was cut short by Jackson's snarky interjection.
" Quit whining McCall, some people deserve to die." Jackson snarled, his eyes were the slits of the Kanima, his tail flicking around wildly as he paced.
Scott ignored him, watching Lydia, who was standing a few feet away. She nodded at Scott and he sighed heavily.
"Just...... don't drag it out," Scott said moving towards the back of the room. Stiles jerked his head in response and approached the man.
The warehouse faded away before the screaming started and they were back in the office with the Spark. Jackson had returned as well. Peter felt a pang of disappointment he didn’t actually get to see the bastard die, but after seeing Kate he was confident Stiles got the job done.
God he hoped the man suffered.
"Kate attacked your pack, but Gerard was the mastermind, she did nothing without his approval. Despite her arrogance, he would have just trained another to take her place. He will never be able to seek revenge on your pack, or future generations," Stiles said solemnly, withdrawing his hands gently.
Talia's eyes were glittering with tears. Part of Peter was angry that they hadn't been able to find him themselves, but the other, larger part was beyond relieved that the threat that had been hanging over their heads for so many years was finally over.
"Thank you, Stiles," Talia inclined her head. "You have no idea what you've done for our pack."
"It seems like your True Alpha has a problem with killing," Peter observed, eyes narrowing on Scott suspiciously. Scott's ears turned pink with embarrassment, but Stiles laughed.
"Naw, Scotty just keeps me in check when my instincts get the better of me," he said, smiling at Scott and slapping his shoulder fondly. "He has the best moral compass out of all of us." Stiles ran his hand through his hair, looking thoughtful. "I've never been able to figure out if it's because of what we are, or just us, but the three of us," he gestured to himself, Lydia and Jackson, "all tend to have pretty dark impulses. Having something pure, helps." He ended with a shrug.
Peter was surprised Stiles was willing to admit that about himself. The banshee and the Kanima made sense, but a Spark? He didn't realize the pull of darkness was so hard to resist.
Talia, it seemed had the same question. "I thought Sparks themselves were pure?"
"They are," Stiles answered easily, "it's the humans they inhabit that are the problem."
Before Peter had a chance the question that, there was a knock on the door.
Talia pulled the door open, revealing a scowling Derek. Peter sighed. He had hoped this wouldn’t happen, but it seemed his dear nephew hadn’t taken his warning to heart. It was no secret in their pack that Derek didn’t like magic users and he had been by far the most vocal about not wanting the Spark to stay with them during the courtship process. Talia had pulled him aside and promised to assuage all his fears when the Spark arrived, and apparently, he wanted it to be a face-to-alpha-to-spark conversation.
Talia was doing a great job of pretending Derek’s arrival was planned.
“Stiles, Derek is training to take over for Peter when the time comes, I believe he has some questions he wants to ask you,” she said smoothly, motioning her son into the room.
“Why should we trust that you won’t use your magic on us without our consent?”
If Peter could have facepalmed, he would have. Talia looked almost embarrassed by the question.
Lydia’s eyebrows rose into her hairline, Jackson scoffed, and Scott looked downright offended.
Stiles, for his part, didn’t miss a beat.
“Those who are true magic practitioners would never use magic on an unwilling subject unless they upset the balance somehow and there is always a consequence for such magic,” he reassured.
Derek looked skeptical. “What kind of consequence?”
“It depends on the initial act and what the intent was.” Stiles shrugged. “Magic does have the potential to be quite harmful," Stiles acknowledged while ignoring Derek's snarky tone. “But with the right amount of control and practice, it is no more dangerous than a werewolf.”
“And what about you?” Derek asked, crossing his arms over his chest., obviously angry with Stiles’ perceived nonchalance. “Have you always been able to control your magic?”
Peter wanted to slap him. Such a question directed at an Alpha, or a member of their pack would be considered a grave insult, why did the little shit think it was ok to harass Stiles about it?
“No,” Stiles answered easily. The response brought Derek up short.
“Can you elaborate on that, Stiles?” Talia asked with grace.
“Think of magic as a living entity, you have to learn to work with it, not against it. Control takes time to learn, and not everyone succeeds,” Stiles said with a shrug.
Derek scowled. “What happens if they don’t succeed?”
Stiles leveled him with a look. “Magic is not some toy that children can chose to play with and then put away as they wish, Derek. If one cannot learn to control or channel the power inside them it burns them from the inside out. They die.”
“I think that’s a sufficient enough explanation, don’t you Derek?” Talia asked him with a brittle smile, the warning clear in her tone.
Derek looked at the ground and nodded, suitably chastened. He murmured a thank you and escaped out the door quietly.
“I am sorry about that,” Talia said to Stiles apologetically. He waved her off.
“I understand, I brought Kate to you for a reason. I know what happened to him.” Stiles responded sadly.
Talia nodded in understanding, but the heavy atmosphere in the room remained, making it a less than ideal place to continue conversation.
They agreed to chat the next day and Jackson, Lydia and Scott made their way out to doors to their assigned rooms. Stiles made it to the door last. Peter followed him, fully intending to shut to door so he and Talia could talk privately.
“Oh!” Stiles turned back around quickly, nearly knocking Peter over when his arm flailed. “It might interest you to know that the witch Kate purchased the love spell she used on Derek from was killed a few years ago. She had gone into hiding after word got out that she helped a hunter attempt to murder a pack of werewolves. Or so I heard. I guess it made the trade in love potions dwindle to the point where they’re barely even made anymore,” he said with a grin.
There were a few awkward moments of silence before anyone responded.
“Well, that’s good to know. I’ll be sure to pass that along to Derek.” Talia said with a confused smile.
“Good night, Peter,” Stiles said with a smirk. “Alpha Hale.” The door closed behind him with a woosh.
“You don’t think…..” Talia trailed off suggestively. Peter shook his head helplessly in response.
Peter looked at the spot on the carpet where Kate had been laying and swallowed thickly. This boy was going to be trouble.