Chapter Text
Cora didn’t think much of Stilinski at first. Literally, she just didn’t care. He was just another student in her class, moderately loud and almost always moving, whether he was absently twirling a pencil or tapping his feet under the desk. They didn’t exactly sit near each other, but it was close enough to draw her attention occasionally — usually when she wanted to bare her teeth and snap his neck if he didn’t stop moving or making noise out of the corner of her eye while she was trying to concentrate on the professor’s lecture.
But she did know he was smart. He raised his hand often, turned in all his work (even if some of it did seem oddly off-topic), and had a weird dynamic with the professor that seemed to be a mix of hatred and respect on both sides.
Because of all this, she didn’t feel all that much one way or another when they got paired up for their final project. There were certainly people in the class that would be much worse to be stuck with and may have ended in bloodshed. Others were entirely too boring for her to spare them a moment of her attention. At least she knew Stilinski would show up and do the work.
Cora’s ambivalence towards Stilinski lasts right up until the moment she gets home after their first study session at the library. Her Uncle Peter is on her almost as soon as she walks in the door, eyes blazing red and a rumble deep in his chest as he invades her space to drag in deep lungfuls of her scent.
“Uh, Uncle Peter?” Cora asks warily, trying not to lean away as he gets a little too close to her jugular in his agitated state. His gaze jumps to hers, his alpha eyes seeming even brighter than usual in the face of this intensity and close proximity.
“Who were you with?” His voice rumbles, distorted from the fangs starting to grow in his mouth.
“I was at school; do you have any idea how many people go to that university?” Her snark gets her a snarl in response and she shrinks back, showing her neck. “I was at the library working on a group project for one of my classes! I got partnered with Stilinski, he was sitting next to me while we worked. He’s the only person that was close to me for a prolonged period of time.”
Peter drags in another deep breath, eyes falling closed to savor the scent.
“Mate,” he practically purrs.
Oh.
Cora’s uncle is an idiot.
Uncle Peter is the first person in their family since Cora’s grandparents to find his True Mate, something that most wolves only dream of. Literally, they grow up hearing bedtime stories and fairytales about it. They can’t exactly gather statistics on these things, but even the largest packs usually only have a few pairs of True Mates among their ranks. The only True Mates Cora has ever met that she can remember are Erica and Boyd, outliers who won the werewolf jackpot when they were turned by the same feral alpha and found each other almost immediately.
And here is Peter, lucky enough to have identified his True Mate, and he’s not doing anything about it.
Okay, he’s doing something. He’s becoming an annoying stalker and a thorn in Cora’s side.
After wringing every possible detail about Stilinski out of Cora that first day (and really there wasn’t much, she didn’t exactly make it a habit of caring about people’s lives outside of her pack), Peter decided to start gathering information on his own. He used every connection he has, legal and otherwise, to find out as much as he could. He insists on driving Cora to and from campus at least once a week in hopes of just catching a glimpse of him. He tries to get Cora to spy for him, and when she refuses, he switches tactics by suggesting a list of topics they could discuss while working on their project (“No, Peter, I’m not going to interrogate him for you either”).
When she gets home after meeting Stiles at the library to work on their project, she’s taken to stripping off her shirt the second she walks in the door and throwing it at Peter’s face just to avoid him sniffing at her like a hunting dog.
But despite all that, Peter has refused to actually meet his mate.
Cora knows that, while becoming the Alpha and guardian of multiple teenagers had curbed some of Peter’s most selfish tendencies, his first and foremost instinct will always be self-preservation. She just never expected self-preservation to sway so far into the territory of self-sabotage.
He argues that it’s best not to rush these things. That Stiles is young and human and knows nothing about the supernatural. That it needs to be approached delicately and with a plan.
AKA, he’s being a coward.
Cora really hopes he gets his shit together soon. Peter is one of the few family members she has left; she’d hate to have to kill him.
When Peter does decide to start doing something about it, it doesn’t exactly go as planned.
He tries sending a singing telegram to serenade Stiles on campus.
Stiles thinks he’s being pranked.
(Cora doesn’t know why he thought that one would work. She’s pretty sure he saw it in a movie and assumed it was more common on college campuses than it really is.)
He tries anonymously mailing him a voucher for one of the poshest restaurants in the area.
Stiles assumes it’s a scam and throws it in the trash.
(The restaurant in question doesn’t even offer those, so Cora doesn’t blame him. She’d assume it was fake too.)
He tries having groceries delivered to Stiles’s dorm room, since Cora knows he mainly lives off cafeteria food and non-perishable microwave meals.
Stiles argues with the delivery person that they’ve got the wrong room, and when the delivery person insists they’re for him, Stiles puts it all in the little communal kitchenette on his floor.
(Cora may have conveniently forgotten to mention that he doesn’t have a fridge in his dorm room when Peter was doing the order.)
He tries changing tactics, dropping the anonymous approach and having Cora take something to class with her. She only agrees because she gets a free coffee and muffin out of the deal and it’s too early to argue (she’s a college student: 1pm is still early when you sleep until noon).
Stiles looks at her like she’s grown a second head when she sets the cup on his desk. He looks between her and the sweet monstrosity with suspicion.
“What’s this?”
“My uncle accidentally ordered an extra drink and didn’t want it,” Cora lies easily. Stiles purses his lips and picks up the drink doubtfully, examining it through the clear plastic to-go cup. He sniffs it and swirls the straw around a little. He sets it back down and looks at her with a skeptical eyebrow.
“Your uncle just happened to get two salted caramel mochas with extra whip? The exact drink I had the last time we met at the library?”
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’.
Stiles’s narrowed eyes flick between her and the drink again. He pokes it towards her with his pencil.
“You take a sip of it first.”
Cora huffs and rolls her eyes, done with this. She did what Peter wanted, the rest is up to Stiles.
“Drink it or don’t, Stilinski, I don’t care.” Cora stomps past him to her own desk at the back.
From her seat three rows back and to his left, Cora has a perfect view of the cup as it sits on the corner of his desk for the entire class, untouched. Cora’s a little surprised; she’d think that most humans would be happy to receive a free drink, especially from someone they’d been working with for two months.
She spots him in the hallway after class, looking both annoyed and mournful as he dumps it in the trash.
So, it turns out Peter’s mate is a suspicious little bugger.
She thinks she might actually like him.
Cora is so fed up with her ridiculous uncle that she’s taken to avoiding the pack house as much as possible. She stays on campus longer (she tried studying in the library but she only lasted an hour before giving up and finding a quiet spot outside to work), doesn’t bother going home when she has a break between classes, and has even been reduced to (shudder) spending time with her brother when he studies on campus between his own classes.
She’s also started commuting to the other three betas at their San Francisco apartment instead of waiting for them to come home to the pack house.
When Isaac and Erica decided to attend San Francisco State University and Boyd the University of San Francisco, Peter decided to lease an apartment for them between the two schools rather than make them do the 45-to-60-minute commute to and from the pack house in Woodside. Since all three of them insisted on contributing to the rent payments rather than letting Peter cover everything like he’d offered, they’d also gotten jobs. Between their jobs, classes, and resistance to going anywhere without each other, they didn’t come home to visit nearly as often as Cora would like. So Cora thought this solution to her Peter problem would be a win all around.
She was only partially correct.
“Sooo, what’s he like?” Erica prods, a manic grin on her face as she leans over the back of the couch, peering down at Cora where she’s sprawled across the cushions. Cora groans and pulls a pillow over her face.
“I came here to get away from questions about Stilinski,” she complains. Erica pulls the pillow off her face.
“Well, too bad. It’s not fair that you get to spend time with our future Alpha Mate and we don’t even know what he looks like.” Erica pouts.
Cora glances over at Boyd and Isaac for help. Boyd, lounging on their other couch with his arms slung along the back of the couch and his ankle crossed over his knee, simply smirks at her. Isaac, perched in one of their weird little artsy chairs, shrugs.
“I’m curious too,” he admits. Cora sighs.
“Brunet, kinda lanky, definitely ADHD. Smart brain and smarter mouth. Lives in the dorms, studying some sort of B.A., thinking about doing a minor in sociology which is how we ended up in the same elective despite being in wildly different programs. Definitely has an oral fixation — which is not something I want to share with my uncle,” she shudders at the thought and Erica cackles so hard she collapses to the floor behind the couch. Boyd’s eyes scrunch with the force of his amused grin, bright white teeth on display.
At least Isaac shares her look of disgust. He’s her new favourite.
“And he’s got some sort of weird paranoia or something because he acts way too suspicious over anything nice being done for him! It’s making Peter so. much. worse. It’s driving him up the wall, and in turn he is driving me up the wall!”
“Is it really that bad?” Isaac wonders. She stares him in the eye with a straight face.
“Sometimes the only thing stopping me from committing avunculicide is the revulsion I feel at the thought of having to lead you losers by getting stuck with the Alpha spark.”
She gets a pillow in the face for that one.
Apparently, the beta trio (as she’s been calling them since they joined the pack) are tired of waiting and want to check out their future Alpha Mate for themselves. On a Thursday two weeks before finals are set to start, when none of them have work and only Boyd and Erica have an afternoon class to skip, they decide to drive down to Stanford to ambush them as soon as their class lets out. Since Cora and Stiles had been planning on working at the library for the next hour, they’re walking together around the grassy quad when Cora hears Erica’s honey-sweet voice calling her name.
“Cora!”
Cora hangs her head with a groan before slowly rolling it to look to the side. And there she is, practically skipping towards them across the grassy lawn, Isaac and Boyd sitting in the shade of a tree twenty yards behind her.
Going by the evil gleam in her eye, Cora has no doubt this was Erica’s idea.
“Hi!” Erica latches onto Cora’s arm with a bright, toothy grin, immediately turning to Stiles. “I’m Erica! Cora’s cousin.” It’s the lie they’ve been going with for years to explain their closeness to humans who wouldn’t understand. Erica is their ‘cousin,’ Boyd is basically family as her long-time beau, and Isaac is their foster-brother.
Stiles blinks at surprise as he tries to take in the shiny blonde hair, bright smile, and exuberant energy that is Erica.
“Uh, hi, I’m Stiles. Cora’s classmate.”
“It’s great to finally meet you! We’ve heard so much about you.” Stiles glances at Cora out of the corner of his eye, looking weirded out. Cora gazes at the sky and wishes a hole would open in the ground and swallow Erica whole.
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to spend time with your cousin,” Stiles says, glancing between them and stepping away. Erica immediately latches onto his arm instead. She’s like a freaking barnacle.
“Nonsense! You two were about to study in the library, right? That means you have at least the next hour free. I insist that you come sit with us. You can tell us all about what it’s like studying at Stanford; we hardly ever get any details out of Cora. You may have noticed, she’s not exactly the chattiest girl alive.”
She’s dragging him across the lawn before she’s even finished speaking. About halfway there, Stiles’s shoulders slump as he seems to accept his fate. Cora follows a few steps behind and steels herself to deal with the others’ meddling.
She can admit she’s also a little curious to see how Stiles handles more of the pack.
To Cora’s slight surprise, Stiles fits in well. He meets Erica’s energy and Isaac’s snark, and respects Boyd’s sturdy presence and oft-overlooked dry wit. His loud, bold personality comes out with a vengeance compared to the muted version Cora usually deals with in the library. He seems comfortable here with them in ways he isn’t there. He debates DC comics with Erica, makes fun of Isaac for wearing a scarf in the summer, and gets Boyd talking about his Kinesiology degree.
The four of them sit in the shade of that tree for nearly three hours. They never make it to the library, but neither of them mind.
Peter’s going to be so jealous.
“Here.” Cora watches Stiles jerk back in surprise as the box of donuts lands on the papers he’d been reading, blinking up at her in confusion. Considering the way his eyes flick around, Cora assumes he’s been at the library for hours already, absorbed in whatever he’s working on and needing to reorient back to the land of the living.
“Uh, what’s this?” Stiles asks warily, looking two seconds away from poking the box with his pencil. Cora purses her lips and barely stops her eye from twitching.
“Sustenence, from my uncle. He said sweet treats would help power our brains, or something.”
She still cannot believe that she’d let herself be roped into being her uncle’s errand boy. She refuses to be complicit in his ridiculous charade!
Except.
Finals are only three days away and her period is due to start any minute. She could use the sweet treat too.
She hopes Stiles doesn’t have any delusions about splitting the box 50/50. She might just bite his hand off.
The day before they’re set to present their final project together, Peter insists on picking her up from hers and Stiles’s last library meeting in hopes of getting one last look at his mate before classes end. Even though it meant having to leave his downtown law firm nearly an hour early and dealing with the rush hour traffic he so loathes.
She gets the idea as they’re packing up their bags. Knowing her uncle is waiting outside in his stupid sports car, Cora smirks.
“Stilinski, walk me to my car.”
Stiles blinks and pauses with his laptop half shoved into his bag, looking at her with his ridiculous brown doe eyes. They narrow a little as he scans her face and he subtly leans away from her with a wary expression. She’s not entirely sure what her face is doing, but it’s probably a smart reaction if her smile is anywhere near as sharp as she thinks it is.
“Alright,” he nods slowly, giving his bag two big shakes to get his laptop the rest of the way in. She wrinkles her nose a little at the glimpse of disorganized chaos of loose papers, textbooks, charging cords, and energy bar wrappers that is his backpack. He slings it over his shoulder and gestures for her to lead the way.
Peter is leaning against the driver’s side door of his fancy black car when they exit the library. His arms and ankles are both crossed, dark sunglasses perched on his nose. He looks like a douchey celebrity. He probably heard her order and decided to pose.
Drama queen. At least now he can stop overthinking their first meeting.
Stiles raises a thin eyebrow as they approach, and Peter lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head to flash Stiles a bright smile. It’s the same smile he wears when schmoozing or showing off. The one that says ‘I’m gorgeous and you know it.’
Stiles’s heartbeat stumbles a little as his eyes flick over Peter’s form, but he manages not to react any more outwardly than that. His chemosignals, on the other hand, indicate that he’s definitely noticed Peter’s attractiveness. It kicks Peter’s grin up, making his blue eyes crinkle.
“You must be Stiles,” Peter says, offering a hand when they reach him.
“Er, yeah,” Stiles mutters, accepting the handshake after the briefest of hesitations. Peter places his other hand over Stiles’s, cradling it between his own as they shake. It makes Stiles’s eyebrows kick up another notch as he eyes their joined hands. “Thanks, for, uh, keeping us fed while we worked on our project, by the way,” Stiles adds awkwardly once Peter releases him.
“It was my pleasure,” Peter practically purrs. Cora wants to gag. Stiles’s eyes flick between them before clutching his backpack straps and taking a step backwards. The look on his face would make you think they’d just turned orange and offered to escort him to candyland.
“Well, I’ve got to go, but have a nice night, I guess. I’ll see you in class tomorrow for our presentation, Cora.” He releases the bag strap long enough to give Cora a little wave as he takes a few more steps backwards before turning around and sauntering off in the direction of the dorms.
Peter’s smile drops and he cuts a narrow-eyed glare in her direction. She gives him an innocent smile.
The moment they’re in the car away from prying eyes, Peter clamps a clawed hand around the back of her neck with a warning growl, giving her a little shake. She glowers out the windshield at being scruffed like a pup.
He does buy her ice cream on the way home though, so she figures he can’t be too mad.
(She very much ignores the way he drives with only his right hand, his left elbow braced so that he can lean his cheek against his palm and inhale the scent of Stiles all the way home.)
If Cora thought living with Uncle Peter was unbearable before he met Stiles, life after their first meeting is ten times worse. Because right after their meeting comes the start of exams and Stiles gets busy, and then exams are over and summer is here and Stiles is gone. Back home to some dinky little town four hours away called Beacon Hills.
“No, Uncle Peter! I will not go to some backwater little town to do recon on your mate!” Derek looks so horrified at the thought that Cora has to hold in a laugh, not wanting to draw Peter’s attention and become his next target.
Part of Peter’s argument for not going himself is that his car would stand out far too much. The other is that he doesn’t like the thought of leaving their pack and territory vulnerable without their Alpha. Cora understands this to an extent, considering everything their pack has been through.
When Cora was sixteen, her sister Laura was still the Alpha of their pack. Laura had heard rumours about a suspected feral alpha three hours north of them and decided to go investigate. Peter hadn’t thought she should go, but it was close to their family’s ancestral territory and there was no longer an established pack there to handle things. She felt honour-bound to take care of it.
So Laura left, and that was the last they saw of her. They found out she’d been killed when their pack bonds to Laura all snapped.
Peter had been enraged and devastated by equal measure, leaving to avenge her and bring her body home as soon as they recovered from the loss of yet another familial bond. When he returned, he brought not only Laura’s body for burial, but bright new Alpha-red eyes and three freshly bitten betas to integrate into their pack. His protective instincts were at an all-time high as he settled into his new abilities and role as Alpha to not just his niece and nephew, but three traumatised teenagers whose entire lives had been uprooted and turned upside down.
The only problem with Peter’s stated reluctance to leave their territory now is that, despite struggling with it, Peter has willingly left their territory since then. He’s even gone so far as New York for business. No, he’s just being a coward and making excuses.
“Derek, you’re the only one that can go!” Peter argues. “Stiles has met everyone else in the pack, he might think it’s creepy if one of us suddenly shows up in his hometown without reason for being there–”
“It is creepy,” Cora can’t help but mutter. Peter ignores her, instead shooting an irritated glare at his other three betas, who are watching with far too much amusement.
“–which is something we could have had, if you three hadn’t been such losers when you were kids.” The words could have been hurtful any other time, but there’s no malice behind them, only grumbling and — dare she say it — pouting.
Because they had heard of Beacon Hills before. It’s only one town north of where Boyd, Erica, and Isaac had lived before the alpha rampaged through their town and bit them. If any of them had retained connections in their hometown, Peter could have used the excuse of sending them to visit, but Isaac was an abused orphan, Boyd was a neglected loner whose mother had allowed him to be emancipated at sixteen so he could leave town with Peter, and Erica’s parents had moved with her when Peter explained she needed a pack. None of them had friends they would have stayed in contact with, let alone had any interest in visiting.
“Sorry, Boss,” Erica smirks.
“Are you going to order me to go as my Alpha?” Derek demands, crossing his arms and standing tall with his feet squared. Peter blinks at him and then his shoulders slump just a little.
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then figure something else out or wait until your mate returns at the end of summer break to do things properly,” Derek snaps, storming out of the room.
At least Cora’s not alone in her suffering.
Peter deals with the separation anxiety by having a very fancy bouquet of flowers anonymously delivered to the Stilinskis’ door. Cora wants to bash her head against a wall.
Cora lasts exactly 3 weeks and 2 days into summer break before she snaps.
“That’s it, I’m moving out!” she shouts, slapping her hands on the table to gain everyone’s attention.
The entire pack is gathered around the dining table to enjoy breakfast together while the beta trio are home for the weekend. Peter’s already finished his food and has been focusing on his laptop while sipping his coffee, which he almost spills in surprise when she slaps the table. The sound also shocks a half-asleep Erica into alertness, while Boyd lowers the newspaper to peer at her over it with a raised eyebrow. Isaac looks almost cartoonish in his surprise, frozen with wide eyes and his fork already in the air, mouth gaping open in anticipation of the food he’d been about to eat.
Derek’s the only one that doesn’t react, the bastard.
Peter looks utterly bewildered. “Why?” He asks.
Cora gesticulates wildly at his laptop, where some fancy boutique’s online shop fills the screen with ostentatious images of sparkling diamonds and glittering gemstones.
“That’s why! You have met him all of one time, and you’re already looking at diamond bracelets for him! One of your big concerns is the fact that he’s human and won’t get the whole mate thing, so treat him like a human and get to know him!” She shoves back her chair with a wordless sound of rage and storms from the room. “I mean it!” She shouts over her shoulder. “I’m moving out!”
She does mean it. She has Peter on the hunt for appropriate apartments by that afternoon, providing him a list of her priorities and discussing what would suit her best. They decide a two bedroom apartment within walking distance of campus is the most ideal option, and go from there.
There is a small, childish part of her that is screaming inside, demanding that she put a stop to this immediately, but she shoves it down. That part of her is still a ten year old little girl watching her family burn, listening to their screams as flames lick at her skin. That part of her still wakes up some nights in a cold sweat and ash in her lungs, reliving the moment she felt her father die, the moment she lost her connection to her mother. The empty ache inside where she used to feel her sister and her aunt and cousins, her grandmother and her uncle Damian, before the fire took them from her.
It’s the part of her that can still feel the ghost sensation of rough, uneven scars against her palm as she held her comatose uncle’s hand, tearfully asking her big sister, her Alpha, why he wasn’t waking up. The part of her that spent two years clinging to the broken fragments of her pack in a town that took everything from them, trapped in the echoes of their trauma, until their uncle healed well enough to agree with Laura and Derek that it was time to move on. The part that slept curled up in bed with her brother or sister more nights than not until she turned fourteen.
That part of Cora still remembers what it felt like to lose her Alpha for the second time, to feel the death of another sister and know her family had been reduced from a once flourishing pack to three damaged and broken souls. Still remembers the pain of screaming herself hoarse when her uncle walked out the front door, and the sound of her own breaking door when he returned home with three strangers. The part that did not speak to anyone for three months when they moved in and then tore a chunk out of the preserve when they announced they were going to move out.
It’s that small, screaming part of her that has been keeping Cora a prisoner of her own fear, hidden away in the pack house clinging to Derek and Peter and the safety of their den. Sinking her teeth into anything familiar like a dog with a bone and rejecting everything that did not already fit within her perfectly contained bubble.
No more.
That little girl will always live inside Cora, and that trauma will never truly leave, but they do not control her. She will not be kept prisoner in her own home. She didn’t lose Erica, Boyd, and Isaac when they moved away. She didn’t lose Derek when he decided to spend a year living on campus. She will not lose her family by moving out of their den.
And she will not push away the one person who could bring her uncle immeasurable joy just because he’s new.
Cora Hale will do better. She is going to pull on her big girl panties and go apartment hunting with her uncle Peter, and she will take her first real step into the world.
To everyone’s relief, finding Cora an apartment that fits his exacting standards and then furnishing it to said standards manages to pull Peter’s attention away from his absent mate for some time. It takes three weeks to find an apartment they agree on, and another two weeks until it’s ready for her to move in.
Peter fills the first of those two weeks dragging her around various home furnishing stores until she’s ready to rip his spine out through his ass (a threat that actually made him pause for once), and when he switches to shoving various magazines and catalogues in her face while at home, she takes a snap at his fingers. She doesn’t care what he chooses, so long as it’s comfortable and functional. She’ll happily leave the rest up to him.
As difficult as the move is, once she’s settled in, it turns out to be pretty nice having her own space. She’s only a twelve minute drive from the pack house, fifteen in traffic, and a three minute walk from campus. They find a building that’s not next to any main streets and has thick walls and a low rate of noise complaints, and Peter buys her the best noise-cancelling headphones money can buy to help her block out the city noises.
The living room is big enough that they can pack pile together on the floor for bonding nights, and the kitchen is spacious enough that Cora can cook whatever she wants, especially after Peter fills it with every possible appliance, gadget, tool, and utensil she could ever need. She’s no master chef, but she much prefers making her own meals than eating food that is full of strange scents and overly processed textures. Their mother used to say that she and Derek had a more ‘sensitive palate’ than the rest of their family, so they learned together over the years how to cook to their own tastes. The kitchen alone added an extra week to their apartment hunting, until Cora found one that she loved.
The first night in her apartment the entire pack camps out in the living room, and when Erica notices her hesitation the next day, the beta trio extend their visit another day to spend the night curled around each other in her new bed. Surrounding herself in their scents lulls her into a peaceful slumber.
Peter does spend another two weeks barging into her apartment at random hours rambling about accent pieces and clashing colours and all manner of other things Cora decides to tune out, but it’s still better than his fretting over Stilinski.
(She repeats those words to herself like a mantra as she walks laps around her apartment block to avoid punching him when he decides to rearrange the living room for the third time.)
By the time summer ends and students are returning for fall classes, Cora is pretty sure Peter has a spreadsheet of potential courting gifts and graphs calculating the best possible course of action to get Stiles to fall in love with him. They do not include any concrete plans to talk to Stiles.
Cora considers changing her phone number and moving to Argentina.
Cora and Stiles have one class together again, the follow-up to the introductory course they’d shared the previous semester. They don’t talk much, but they nod or greet each other in passing, and Cora decides to sit only one row back from him opposed to her preferred spot near the back.
Cora spends the first two weeks relishing in the silence of her apartment and her ability to avoid Peter’s inevitable interrogation simply by ignoring his calls and texts. It can’t last forever, but the peace is nice while it lasts.
Three weeks into the semester and a day after returning from spending the full moon at the pack house, Cora decides to treat herself at her favourite café on her way home from class. It’s a little family-owned business tucked away between two office buildings two blocks from her apartment that she found while escaping Peter the Interior Designer. She’d realised quickly that not only do they make excellent coffee, but their scones are to die for and it’s the only coffee shop in a two mile radius never crammed with university students.
She notices him immediately. He’s at a table near the window, bright sunlight filtering in to highlight his slumped form and morose expression. He’s got his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate, which he’s staring into like it holds the secrets to the universe. There’s a pretty redhead sitting across from him looking prim and proper and not at all amused with his moping. It doesn’t look like they’ve been here long, since their drinks are mostly full and the redhead’s croissant sits untouched.
The girl sitting with Stiles looks vaguely familiar; Cora thinks she remembers seeing her around campus the previous year. Cora takes a deep breath as she gets in line to order, parsing through the scents of the cafe. Her scent is familiar too. She and Stiles must be close for Stiles to carry her scent so often.
Cora keeps her senses tuned to their table while she pretends to look over the menu.
“Fuck, Lydia, it’s awful,” Stiles is moaning, resting his forehead on the table. He looks pathetic, but Cora thinks that may be on purpose for once.
His companion, Lydia, purses glossy pink lips and gives him a concerned frown.
“How bad is it?”
Stiles sighs and drags himself upright again, slouching back in his seat and letting his hands fall into his lap.
“Well, let’s see.” He starts ticking things off his fingers. “The apartment is a lot smaller than I expected; they must have taken those pictures very strategically to make everything seem bigger. They’re also old, because there’s a lot more wear and tear than what was in the pictures. The elevator is broken and only half the laundry machines work. One of the neighbors on the top floor has a very large dog — do you know how loud those things can bark Lydia? Loud. And I’m pretty sure I cleaned mold out of the bathtub when I scrubbed it. Suddenly the cheap rent makes a lot more sense.”
Lydia’s face is twisted in a grimace of disgust and Cora can’t help but mirror it. That sounds exceedingly unpleasant. Especially the mold.
She shudders.
Stiles sighs and rubs his forehead.
“All of that I could have lived with, you know? So the place isn’t the nicest, at that price what can you expect? And it’s not like I have much stuff anyway, so what does it matter if it’s smaller than I expected? I’m only on the third floor, I can handle taking the stairs every day. But it’s the roommate. The roommate is intolerable.” Stiles drops his forehead back down onto the table and bangs it a few times with a groan, not enough to hurt or draw attention, but enough to make his frustration known and Lydia grab her drink to avoid a spill. She rolls her eyes and brings the cup to her lips.
“I thought you said this guy seemed decent when you agreed to rent a place together,” Lydia comments after taking a sip. Cora listens to Stiles’s reply with one ear as she gives the barista her order.
“Because he did. He seemed like a cool dude; had his shit together, reasonably well organized, didn’t miss much class, easy-going… Only, it turns out he’s a little too easy-going, and he’s only put-together and organized when it comes to class. Plus, I’m fairly sure he was still living at home with his parents last semester. Now that he’s moved out, he can go as wild as he wants.”
Stiles scrubs a hand through his hair, foot tapping in agitation beneath the table.
“Like, when I moved in there were beer cans and bongs all over the place, okay? The whole place smelt like weed, and his stuff was everywhere. Apparently he’s allergic to cleaning, has a bad habit of leaving food scraps in the sink to grow all sorts of things as yet unknown to mankind, and likes to drink and get high whenever he’s not in class. His stoner friends are over at least three times a week, getting wasted and fighting over video games in the living room. If they’re not over, he likes to blast music in his room when he’s high. Says the loud vibrations help him think.”
Oof. Cora winces. That really does sound awful.
As she accepts the small bag with her scone from the barista and watches her drink get made, Cora idly wonders how Peter would react to this. Considering how badly he wants to woo his mate (without actually speaking to him…or letting him know he’s being wooed…) and the need to protect and provide that would be driving him… she’s a little curious what sort of solutions he’d come up with.
She’s sure it would be ridiculous. Possibly amusing though.
Cora takes the drink handed to her and takes a small sip as she listens idly to Lydia’s soft voice. She sounds regretful.
“Stiles, you know if I could–”
“Yeah, Lydia, I know,” Stiles cuts her off. He sounds tired, weary, but like he’s still trying to smile at her. “If you had an extra room, but you don’t. And neither of us want me crashing on your couch for more than one night at a time. That fancy condo that your parents bought is very nice, but it is not big enough for the both of us long term.”
It’s like a lightbulb moment. An honest-to-god lightbulb moment. Standing there, Cora Hale is struck with an idea so genius she stuns even herself.
Not only will it solve all her problems (the potential to create new ones is staunchly ignored) but it has the lovely little bonus of payback for everything her uncle Peter has put her through since the moment he found out Stiles is his mate.
It's the perfect plan.
Cora turns sharply on her heel and strides over to their little corner seat, drink and to-go bag held aloft in one hand.
“Stilinski,” Cora declares. “I couldn’t help but overhear your little predicament–” Amusement flares darkly in Stiles’s eyes for a moment, a smirk flitting around his lips that Cora doesn’t quite understand, so she ignores it. “–and I think I have a solution that could benefit us both.”
Stiles raises an eyebrow and rests his elbows on the table, setting his chin on laced fingers as he leans over the table to look at her. Lydia, on the other hand, leans back in her chair with crossed legs, folding her arm over her chest while holding her drink up with the other and peers at Cora with a mildly condescending expression of expectation.
“Oh?” Stiles says. He looks far too amused. It reminds her of Peter in a way that makes her want to go buy a bulk bottle of ibuprofen for the headaches these two are going to cause her. “Do tell.”
“I moved into a new apartment and I was just about to start looking for a roommate.” The beta trio can deal with sleeping in the living room or camping out in her room if they want to stay the night. This is more important. Erica, at least, will agree with her on that. “If you take the room, you can get away from your nightmare roommate and I don’t have to waste my time searching for someone I can tolerate.”
Stiles blinks at her in astonishment, mouth dropping open as he visibly processes what she just said. The suspicion on his face when he realises what she’s offered is reflected in his scent.
Jesus, has no one ever done something nice for this kid? Why must he question everything?
“How much is rent? And I want to see the place first, I’m not making the same mistake as last time. Where is it?”
Cora does some quick math in her head, thinking about how much Peter is paying for her apartment dividing that in half…and then half again… she goes with twenty percent just to be safe.
She rattles off the number and then mentions that the room comes pre-furnished too, though he’s welcome to replace whatever he doesn’t like. She can tell by the narrowing of his eyes that he’s tempted, but he’s also looking for the catch. Lydia’s hard stare is more cutting than Stiles’.
“It’s only two blocks away,” Cora adds. “I was just on my way there when I stopped for coffee. You can come back with me now if you want.”
Stiles glances over at Lydia and they appear to have an entire conversation with just their eyes and minute shifts in facial expressions. Lydia looks stubborn, while Stiles seems more open to the possibility. Lydia’s chemosignals basically scream ‘distrust,’ and while that’s certainly underpinning Stiles’s scent too (which doesn’t hurt at all, really, after all the time they spent working together), his is a lot more curious. She can also tell that his desperation to get out of his current situation is vastly swinging this in Cora’s favor.
They finally seem to reach some sort of consensus and look back up at Cora. She’s taken aback by the synchronicity in the movement.
“What’s the address?” Lydia inquires. She pulls out her phone and swiftly types in the address that Cora lists before standing. Stiles follows suit, swallowing the last of his hot chocolate in a few large gulps as Lydia waves the now-dark phone screen at Cora with a pointed eyebrow .
“I just texted the address to a friend so that if we disappear they’ll know where to look and who to blame.” She offers a sweetly poisonous smile, tucking the phone back into her purse.
Cora blinks at her.
“Jeez, you’re just as paranoid as Stilinski is,” she mutters. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” Cora shakes her head and turns away without waiting for an answer, muttering under her breath about weird humans and their suspicions as she leads them out the door.
Cora provides some more basic details while they walk, trying not to make it obvious that she lowballed them on the rent. She adds more information when prompted, such as the underground garage where Stiles can park his jeep, the pool and hot tub on the top floor, and the building’s security features. Lydia raises her eyebrow skeptically when Cora leads them to the front door, looking up at the clean brick facade and fancy entryway.
Still, Stiles and Lydia stay quiet as they enter the building besides a few questions about the entry system and number of elevators. Cora stares firmly at the wall in front of her in the elevator as they ride up to the sixteenth floor and flexes her hands.
She leads them to the end of the hall and stops outside 1619, pulling her key out of her pocket. Unlocking the door, she steps in and moves aside, letting them get a look at the room.
Peter did a pretty good job decorating it. The space is cozy without seeming small. There’s a long TV stand to the right of the door with shelves full of movies and a large flatscreen TV mounted above it. Two mostly empty bookshelves line the adjacent wall to the right with the same distressed grey wood finish as the TV stand.
Facing the television and separating the living room from the kitchen is a heather grey couch large enough to comfortably seat four. A matching ottoman is situated in front of it to act as a foot rest, but could easily tuck up against either end to extend one of the seats into a chaise. A pair of recliners bracket the couch with matching end tables between them. There’s two doors on the right wall, and Cora points at the first, situated between the kitchen and living room.
“Your bedroom would be that one, just off the living room,” Cora says once they’ve removed their shoes. “As you can see, this is the living room and there’s the kitchen. The kitchen island is big enough that we didn’t bother getting a dining table, just chairs to sit there instead.” She gestures to the long, wide marble-top counter extending from the left wall a few feet behind the couch. Three wooden high-top chairs are situated beneath the overhang of the counter on this side. “There is enough room to tuck a small two or three seater table against the wall there though, if you have one you want to keep.”
Cora takes a breath and steels herself to keep talking. She feels like a tour guide. She’s not going to speak for a week after this; she can just text everything.
“The kitchen is fully stocked, but we can make room in the cupboards for anything you want to bring. The bathroom, which is the next door after yours, would be all yours except when there’s people over, since I have a bathroom in my room.” She leads them to the room that will hopefully become Stiles’s and opens the door. “Like I said, the room is already furnished but you’re welcome to switch out whatever you like, since it’ll be yours.” It’s a pretty generic bedroom to Cora. Closet in the far corner, dresser against the left wall just beyond the door. There’s a queen bed in the middle of the far wall, windows and nightstands on either side. They’re lucky to have a corner unit, so both bedrooms get natural light.
“I’ll let you have a look around.”
Cora leaves them in the bedroom, stepping away into the kitchen to give them time to think and talk (and also to get a bit of space. She feels like her skin is crawling after standing in the doorway with them.) She heads to the fridge to get a drink of water, but Lydia follows her out and grabs her arm, dragging her to the side.
Cora barely resists the urge to growl and bare her fangs at the girl as she moves her out of sight of Stiles’s room until they’re next to Cora’s door. Cora yanks her arm away with a fierce glare.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cora hisses. Lydia rounds on her with a sharp scowl on her face and plants her hands on her hips.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Lydia hisses back. “A place like this is way out of Stiles’s price range. The location, building amenities, and fully-furnished room alone would hike up the price. That room should be more than double the amount of what you told him. What exactly are you playing at here?”
Cora purses her lips and settles back on her feet, studying the girl in front of her. She’s clearly smart and knows more about the local rental market than Stiles does. Getting caught in a lie will likely ruin any chance she has of getting what she wants. If Lydia doesn’t like this place, Stiles won’t agree to move in.
Cora squares her shoulders and crosses her arms, meeting Lydia’s gaze steadily.
“Fine. The truth is I don't actually need a roommate, my uncle is already paying for the whole apartment. However, I know there's no way Stilinski would take the room for free, and it's obvious that the reason he ended up in his current situation in the first place is because it was all he could afford. He's not going to be able to find anything better — especially on short notice — anywhere near his budget without spending the next year living off instant noodles and working between classes. This way he can end up in a better situation with his pride intact.”
Lydia doesn’t lose her narrow-eyed stare, gaze boring into Cora like she’s trying to parse out whatever she isn’t saying. Cora grinds her teeth together and speaks lowly through gritted teeth.
“Look, there aren’t many people outside my family that I can tolerate, much less get along with. Stilinski has…somehow…wormed his way into becoming one of those rare people. I’ve been told in the past that I should try being nicer and that doing something kind for someone is a good way to…make friends.” She feels like she just sucked a lemon, and looks it too.
Ugh. She wants to curse every person who ever insisted she try socialising more and shut herself away in her room for a year before having to deal with anyone ever again.
At least her brother gets it. He’s just as anti-social as she is.
Lydia studies her for a moment, gaze flickering between Cora’s eyes. Cora resists the urge to lean back under the weight of the stare. It’s surprisingly heavy. Finally, Lydia leans back and purses her lips, crossing her arms.
“Fine. I won’t say anything to Stiles. But,” Lydia’s expression sharpens, voice turning into a low hiss as she leans forward and jabs a suddenly talon-like finger at her. Something shifts and the shadows seem to move with her, slithering over her face, and for just a moment Lydia’s green eyes seem to gleam unnaturally in the low light. Cora blinks, giving her head a little shake to clear the image. “If I find out you have hurt him, used him, or set him up in any way, I will make sure you regret it.”
The strange trick of the light has Cora unsettled enough that she doesn’t snarl at the human for threatening her, though it’s close. Cora reminds herself that Lydia is looking out for her friend. The loyalty and protectiveness are understandable to a wolf, admirable even. Cora can appreciate the fierceness, especially since Stiles has somehow managed to make her care about him too, beyond just being her pack’s future Alpha Mate.
Cora nods. “Understood. I have no intention of hurting Stiles or letting any harm come to him. I’m not trying to use him or set him up for anything. I’m just trying to help.” Well, and mess with her uncle. Maybe meddle a bit. But Lydia doesn’t need to know that.
“Hey, everything alright?” They look over to see Stiles walking towards them with a vague look of amusement, eyes flicking between them. He eyes Lydia knowingly. She offers him a sweet smile.
“Everything is fine. I was just asking about the hot tub; Jacks and I might have to come try it out some time.”
Stiles snorts. Cora wonders who Jacks is.
“So, do you have any more questions?”
In the end, Stiles says he'll think about it, but Cora knows it won't be long before he gives in. He'll never survive his current living situation without going insane or committing homicide. Peter would, of course, do whatever was necessary to keep his mate out of jail (and as a lawyer, it would probably mostly even be legal), but this would save them all the hassle.
He calls a week later.
Checkmate, Uncle Peter.