The Bite || snarkwolf-peter-hale
It's been three days. Three days since Peter Hale sunk his sharp alpha fangs into the tender flesh of Kate's shoulder. If the bite doesn't kill you then you become a werewolf. Well, Kate Argent wasn't dead, not again.
It wasn't supposed to happen, not like this, not ever. The Argents had a code for situations like this, but it was no secret that Kate blatantly disregarded the code. This was no different. She wasn't going to stupidly end her life because she was now one of the monsters she had hunted her entire life. She'd already died once, and wasn't eager to let it happen again.
She hadn't even been after Peter that night. She was tracking some rogue Omega, but Peter had to get in her way. He had to be the royal jackass that he was. He couldn't just leave her alone. She was even sure how they ended up rolling around, throwing punches, but one second she was stabbing a taser in his side and the next his fangs were in her shoulder. Before she could even react he was gone, probably figured that if the bite didn't kill her she'd kill herself. Well, Peter Hale was dead wrong. The bite didn't kill her, and she sure as hell wasn't going to kill herself.
Tonight was a full moon. Kate's first full moon. Her claws were out, the fangs were ready to rip something apart, and her eyes were glowing. She wasn't out of control. It took every ounce of her strength to keep her control, but she found an anchor. Peter Hale was her anchor.
Kate showed up at the alpha's door. She didn't even bother knocking before barging in. Her eyes were glowing a bright shade of blue as she let out a loud growl. She wanted her presence to be known. Plus, she knew Peter was home. She could smell his disgusting stench.