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They took him at moon rise. Out-of-state hunters coming after the weak-link of a new and struggling pack.
They took him to lure in the Alpha, to kill him and break the pack.
They took him because they were confident in their own skills and he was only human and a kid.
Less than two hours later, the moon a thin sliver in a starry sky, a time of the month when the wolves were at their weakest, Stiles knelt in a circle of glass--silicon in the dirt near the lake burned so hot it changed its very elemental nature--and stared at his tingling hands.
When he looked up at the two hunters cowering against a tree, their clothes half burned off them, their eyes wild, their tongues slack in wet mouths as they gibbered in fear, the smirk on his face was more wolf-like than human.
A crashing through the trees to his left drew his attention from his prey and the predator in him dispersed as if it had never been. Grinning like the teenager he was, he bounced to his feet and opened his arms.
Peter in wolf form barreled towards him, then, seeing him unharmed and free, skidded to a halt, then slid across the glass. Stiles snorted in amusement and the wolf glowered, then shifted into his human form.
His very naked human form which Stiles eyed hungrily.
"Are you alright?"
He rolled his eyes at Peter's demand, "Sure," then aimed his thumb over his shoulder at the whimpering kidnappers. "Can't say the same for them."
Peter growled and started towards them and Stiles got in his way, grabbed his arms, then cupped his cheeks and drew all his attention.
"I'm fine, Peter," he said softly, golden eyes gleaming in the little light in the clearing. His smile was as soft as his voice. "They didn't know what they took."
A shudder went through the older man and he wrapped his arms around his mate. "No, they really didn't." He sighed, then pressed a kiss to Stiles' mouth, murmuring when their lips parted, "Alright, I won't slaughter them. I suppose being blithering nut cases is good enough punishment. It'll certainly send a message to other hunters."
"Don't fuck with the Hale Pack?"
Now it was Peter's grin that was wolfish and he lifted Stiles so that his legs went around his waist for support, and this time the kiss was carnal and needy. "Don't fuck with Stiles Stilinski, mage of the Hale Pack."
"Don't fuck with the Alpha's mate," Stiles amended and returned his kiss before Peter took them both to the ground.
"Glass? Really?"
Stiles grinned and slid them across the sheer surface with the force of his next kiss.
End