“Felix doesn’t hate naps, or you. He and I understand each other on a fundamental level.” Stiles said, with all the wisdom of two decades of life, but his breath hitched when Scott leaned in. A beat passed then everything fell apart. His shoulders slumped, a tired breath rattling through his lungs before he wrapped himself around his mate and crawled his way into Scott’s lap.
They were in this together. When things were at their very worst, that was all Stiles had to hold on to. When Kincaid’s men rushed in and carefully herded their family away, or when he stared at the unfeeling lines of every progress report that still couldn’t quite diminish horror after horror of how well they were doing.
Stiles fought for their children, their family, but Scott was the only one who held him together.
“Nothing new’s turned up on Her.“ He trailed off. There was nothing more to say, nothing to soften the blow.
“We’ll find her.” Scott murmured, dragging his fingers through Stiles’s hair. “We’ll make sure that we’re safe and this is over. She can’t hold us hostage like this forever.” That was the bright eternal flame of optimism. Their security team had been on the case since the woman had delivered her threat, trying to make sure that the house and grounds were free of any surveillance equipment or threats. They lived in a fortress, nothing was going to get in, not even some violent blackmailer.
He hated waging war, though some small part of him was relieved they had an actual reason to act to save Allison and Victoria. Their goals were the same if the methods weren’t. There had to be better ways to save their friend without destroying the Romans, though if they had to...better to take down a cruel alpha in any way they could.
“You’ve got to be exhausted. There’s nothing more we can do until he issues a statement or tries to retaliate, but all the McCall properties are on high alert.”
