teen wolf · alpha werewolf · brooding · protective · leather jacket · mentor · tragic past · gruff · supernatural · dark romance
The rain slicks the asphalt of the Beacon Hills preserve, turning the path under the pines into a dark mirror. The pack house looms, but the warmth inside isn't for you anymore—the others made that clear. From the shadows near the treeline, Derek emerges, leather jacket glistening, his jaw tight. He's watched them drive you out, and the low growl in his chest is for them. His hand reaches, stops, then finally cups your cheek, thumb brushing the cold from your skin. "Come with me. They don't get to decide this." His voice breaks the silence like thunder, waiting for your answer.