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Title<\/b>: The Folly in Sacrifice <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The woods were dark and deep; danger stalked and crept. The wind sang through branches: a warning and a plea for any who could hear. The earth trembled beneath footsteps too young to know that they stumbled to their end.<\/p>\n \u201cKeep up, Mr. Stilinski,\u201d Deaton said, his voice harsh in the hush of the night. \u201cIf you want to see the fireflies, we must hurry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou could call me Mischief,\u201d Mischief grumbled as he tripped over yet another root that seemed to spring up from nowhere. \u201cEveryone else does.\u201d Sighing, he scanned his light over the ground as he hurried after the vet. Mischief knew his dad wasn\u2019t comfortable leaving him alone since his mom had died a few months back, but Mischief was 9 years old. He didn\u2019t see why he couldn\u2019t sleep in his bed when his dad had to work nights.<\/p>\n \u201cUgh! I think the trees are trying to eat me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI highly doubt that\u2019s the case. You wouldn\u2019t make a very substantial meal for the whole preserve as you are.\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief wrinkled his nose but smiled a little at Deaton\u2019s joke. Despite being a little creepy at times, Deaton was his favorite babysitter now that McCall\u2019s had moved away for Mr. McCall\u2019s job. Deaton took him out to do exciting things, like collect plants and stuff in the preserve and help take care of the animals at the clinic. Tonight Deaton had promised to take him to see some fireflies deeper in the preserve if Mischief behaved during clinic hours and eat all his dinner and drink all his tea. It had been hard not to spit out his tea, but that was normal. Deaton always insisted on tea with dinner, said it was civilized. Mischief was skeptical, but he really wanted to go on an adventure tonight and see the fireflies, so he\u2019d swallowed the tea down quickly, so he didn\u2019t have to taste it very much.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re almost there, just a bit more,\u201d Deaton said without pausing or turning around.<\/p>\n \u201cWill we see them right away?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe might have to sit for a few minutes. Our stomping into the clearing will scare them off. They\u2019ll come back, though.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so excited. Tonight is going to be amazing. I can\u2019t wait to tell Scott next time he calls. I bet the whole clearing lights up, an explosion of fireflies,\u201d Mischief babbled as he brought his hands together and made the shape of an explosion, bobbling the flashlight for a minute.<\/p>\n \u201cAn explosion? I suppose that is one way to look at it,\u201d Deaton paused as Mischief caught up to him. \u201cEvery explosion needs a spark, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUh.\u201d Mischief looked up into Deaton\u2019s eyes, the whites almost glowing in the night. \u201cI guess?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll be that spark tonight, won\u2019t you, Mr. Stilinski.\u201d The intensity of Deaton\u2019s stare made Mischief shift uncomfortably, and a sudden breeze caused a shiver to wash over him.<\/p>\n \u201cSure, of course, I will.\u201d He tried out a smile. \u201cWe should go though, Dad will come to pick me up early tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are correct; upsetting your father will be an unfortunate problem.\u201d Deaton nodded and turned to continue forward. \u201cI\u2019ll take care of it, don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n Deaton was definitely weird sometimes, but he took Mischief on lots of fun and interesting adventures. \u201cOkay, if you say so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief shrugged. His dad had told him to be good and listen to Deaton, so really, he wasn\u2019t doing anything wrong. Mischief used his light to jerkily scan the ground again before scrambling after Deaton. The man was already well ahead of him by now.<\/p>\n The air grew heavy around them, wind creeping icy fingers under the collar of Mischief\u2019s hoodie. Trees, ancient and young, pulled their roots from the ground, desperate to hold the youth back. Desperate to fell the druid. Nothing stopped their forward motion, the spark not yet awake, and the druid had already made his choices long ago.<\/p>\n \u201cOof.\u201d Mischief dropped the flashlight as he hit the ground, scraping the palms of his hands. Biting his lip, he forced back tears despite the sting and fumbled around in the shadows to pick up his flashlight. Luckily it was still on and easy to find.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Stilinski?\u201d Deaton appeared next to him and helped Mischief to his feet. \u201cReady to continue on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Mischief said. \u201cJust tripped. I didn\u2019t break your flashlight or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI see that,\u201d Deaton replied without inflection. \u201cOur destination is just through those trees there. Come along.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFinally,\u201d Mischief muttered under his breath. His knees throbbed from the fall, and his palms stung, the one holding the flashlight sticking a little to the plastic.<\/p>\n Deaton ushered Mischief through a break in the brush, his hand on the boy\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n \u201cWow!\u201d Mischief moved forward. The pain was forgotten as he took in the clearing. A large tree stood in the middle, the trunk so thick Mischief thought it would take at least four adults to be able to circle it. He barely even needed his flashlight; the moon was so bright above them. It wasn\u2019t completely full yet, Mischief could see the small slice that was still dark, but it was bright enough that he could make out the bright green of the grass on the ground and the darker green of the leaves on the tree in the center. \u201cThis place is awesome. Why haven\u2019t we come here before?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis place is exceptionally special,\u201d Deaton replied placidly, his hand once again on Mischief\u2019s shoulder, nudging him forward towards the tree. \u201cAnd it\u2019s a long walk into the preserve. Still, if I should have brought you before now, you are correct.\u201d Deaton lifted Mischief gently set him down onto a large rock slab in front of the tree. \u201cLet\u2019s have a look at those hands now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay,\u201d He said, setting his flashlight down and holding his hands out while his eyes flitted all over the clearing, taking everything in and hoping to catch a glimpse of the fireflies that Deaton said would be there. \u201cHow long before the fireflies show up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSoon enough,\u201d Deaton replied, setting the pack he\u2019d been carrying down on the slab next to Mischief. \u201cHold still now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure.\u201d He felt Deaton wrap one of his big hands around one wrist and then the other. \u201cWait – What?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHold still, Mr. Stilinski,\u201d Deaton said without inflection as he twisted the rope, pulling Mischief\u2019s hands behind the boy. Lashing them together in a few quick and practiced moves, subduing Mischief quickly and efficiently even as he began to struggle and shout.<\/p>\n \u201cStop! What are you doing?! Deaton!\u201d Mischief kicked out with his unbound feet and tried to headbutt the man. When Deaton made the mistake of moving close enough, Mischief bit into his arm.<\/p>\n Deaton shouted, but instead of letting Mischief go, he lifted the boy off the stone slab by the back of his neck and shook him like a misbehaving kitten.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s enough.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want to go home,\u201d Mischief declared, voice cracking with unshed tears. Fear swimming sickly in his stomach. He needed his dad, his mom, someone to come save him.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid that isn\u2019t possible.\u201d Deaton set him back on the stone and secured his legs at the ankles and the knees. \u201cYou are important, Mr. Stilinski, more important than you know. Tonight you\u2019re going to contribute to keeping the balance.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know what that means,\u201d Mischief sniffled, his knees throbbed from the fall and the tightness of the rope. His arms were beginning to hurt from their position behind his back as he lay curled on his side.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course you don\u2019t.\u201d Deaton continued to pull items from his pack. \u201cThere is a world out there that you are unaware of. A world of magic and the supernatural. You are part of it. You, Mr. Stilinski, are a spark. You have a unique form of magic that will help me keep the balance between the supernatural and the natural world as it should be. Your spark, once I harvest it, will give me the time I need to continue my work and the ability to do my work more efficiently.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou could have asked,\u201d Mischief said, feeling the wet slide of his tears drip into his ear. \u201cYou can have my spark, just let me go home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUnfortunately, you can\u2019t just give me your spark. I\u2019ll need to harvest it, and the likelihood of your survival is nonexistent,\u201d Deaton replied. \u201cThis will be unpleasant for the both of us.\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief twisted to look at Deaton, who was setting up something near his head. How was this going to be unpleasant for Deaton? The man just said he was going to kill him! Oh god, his Dad. Mischief flailed at the thought of his dad, the material of the rope cutting into his wrists.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to let me go,\u201d Mischief begged. More tears dripped sideways down his face, into his ear, and wetting his hair. \u201cMy Dad knows I\u2019m with you, he won\u2019t let you get away with this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not worried about your father,\u201d Deaton replied, brushing off Mischief\u2019s warning. \u201cNow, hold still.\u201d Mischief watched Deaton dip a sizeable black feather in a silver bowl.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWolf\u2019s blood,\u201d Deaton said as he scratched something across the middle of Mischief\u2019s forehead.<\/p>\n Mischief closed his eyes, biting his lip as he swallowed back the rest of his questions with his tears. He flinched back when he felt the warm sticky blood on his forehead. The scraping of the feather against his skin made him shudder. Tremors shaking him so hard he thought he\u2019d vibrate out of his skin, his teeth chattering so hard he thought they\u2019d break. Terror had numbed the nausea in his belly, but his mind was still spinning with ideas as he tried to figure out how to get away. He had to get away; he just had to. Blinking open damp eyes, he looked out at the trees and silently begged for help.<\/p>\n \u201cI want to go home now. Please just let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The woods were lovely, dark, and smelled of secrets hidden beneath the budding of new growth. Walking beneath an almost full moon fired Peter\u2019s blood more than Teresa Evans had earlier that night. She\u2019d been a bit of a disappointment.<\/p>\n \u201cNow Tony\u2026\u201d Peter ran his tongue over his lips, healed already, as he remembered his encounter with Teresa\u2019s twin brother on his way out. Tony was worth another look, even if Peter had already written Teresa off. It wouldn\u2019t be the first time Peter had traded one sibling for another; life was too short to waste his time on someone boring. \u201cDefinitely going to have to give Tony another taste.\u201d He felt the smirk curling his lips as he sauntered through the trees, feeling thoroughly satiated.<\/p>\n \u201cI want to go home now.\u201d Tears coated the young voice as it echoed into Peter\u2019s ears. \u201cPlease just let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n Power washed over Peter like wildfire, spreading chaos in his blood. Peter felt the twist of the change, heard the tear of the fabric, and then his paws were hitting the damp earth before he could process the thought. The need to do – to act – pulled him through the trees towards the voice and the source of power.<\/p>\n Peter was in full shift! The small portion of his mind not taken up with the magical pull to the child was absolutely giddy with the fact that he\u2019d managed a full shift at sixteen when Tal hadn\u2019t managed her\u2019s until she\u2019d been twenty. Peter allowed himself a few moments to wallow in that smugness and victory before putting it away and concentrating on gaining some control over his current situation.<\/p>\n Peter planted his front legs, stopping his forward movement, and even though he felt the pull, it wasn\u2019t overriding his will now that he was concentrating. It was definitely tied to his instincts – almost pack-based if he wasn\u2019t mistaken. Tilting his head, Peter scented the air and caught the scent trail he\u2019d been following on instinct alone.<\/p>\n Cinnamon and lilies, just the hint of petrichor.<\/i><\/p>\n A demanding jerk from the magic that had been pulling at him almost knocked him off his paws, and it took Peter a moment to get his instincts back under control instead of giving in and chasing after the ephemeral trail.<\/p>\n He frowned internally. He didn\u2019t recognize the first scent markers, but there had been another scent trail mixed in so closely that it had to be someone walking with Cinnamon-Lily, and it was vaguely familiar. Peter scented again, concentrating on what lay under the strong layer of cinnamon and lily.<\/p>\n Mistletoe, dust, and the acrid scent Peter could never place.<\/i><\/p>\n Deaton. What was Deaton doing in the preserve in the middle of the night with a kid?<\/p>\n Peter started moving again. He thought about getting his sister but discarded the idea just as quickly. Talia had always been adamant about her trust in the emissary and refused to listen to anyone else\u2019s discomfort about him. Peter might be jumping at shadows, but he didn\u2019t think so, not with the way his instincts were screaming at him.<\/p>\n Magic washed over him again. This time it set his fur on end, charging the air reminiscent of the moments before a lightning hit. Peter quickened his pace. He had a feeling that time was running out.<\/p>\n \u201cHold still,\u201d Deaton said. The man was facing a stone altar in front of a large tree in the center of a clearing. Peter hadn\u2019t been aware anything like it existed in the preserve. \u201cIf you keep squirming around, these cuts won\u2019t be even, and I\u2019ll have to start over. This will be much more painful than necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re an asshole, and my dad is going to kick your ass.\u201d High pitched terror-coated words echoed through the clearing. Peter lowered his head, recognizing cinnamon-lily beneath the rancid scent of terror, anger, and surprisingly just under that was the crisp scent of clean fire, sharp and bright. When he drew in a breath, it burned cold down his throat into his lungs, wiping away the foul odors of fear.<\/p>\n \u201cLanguage,\u201d Deaton said, something clattered onto the altar as the boy managed to roll out of the man\u2019s grasp, his bound legs dangled off the stone. \u201cThat\u2019s enough, stop being difficult. I told you that giving up your spark is for the greater good. You should be proud to be chosen for this sacrifice.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf it\u2019s so great, why don\u2019t you give up your thing,\u201d The kid bit out, kicking as Deaton grabbed him and plunked him back on the table. \u201cThere\u2019s nobody around to miss you, and you\u2019re old. I\u2019ve still got things to do, and my dad is definitely going to miss me. He\u2019s the sheriff, in case you forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter crept forward. He doubted he\u2019d get very far before he was noticed, there was minimal cover in the clearing, but he made use of what there was. The bright moon wasn\u2019t helping him tonight either, but he\u2019d make due. Peter could safely say Talia would disapprove of Deaton doing some sort of sacrificial ritual with a kid in the middle of the preserve, especially the sheriff\u2019s kid. He felt pretty confident that he could take Deaton to Talia for judgment and get him sanctioned.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t have the kind of spark you do, and you don\u2019t have the ability or the knowledge to put it to use as I will,\u201d Deaton replied. He leaned over the boy before cursing and jerking back. \u201cMr. Stilinski, that was inappropriate.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy name is Mischief, and you\u2019re about to kill me,\u201d The kid, Mischief, spat out. \u201cBiting you is the least appropriate thing I should be doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou really are making this much more difficult than it needs to be.\u201d Deaton sighed. \u201cIf I didn\u2019t need you conscious and aware of the ritual, I would have added a sedative to the mixture in your tea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy tea?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHmm, I\u2019ve been preparing you for the last year,\u201d Deaton responded. \u201cSince I first detected your spark, I knew that you\u2019d been put in my path for this. I am meant to use you to save the balance. Your spark will keep it for years to come. Take pride in that.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter prowled around the side of the altar, sticking to the shadows so he could see what was going on. He watched Deaton maneuver Mischief into a fetal position with the kid\u2019s back to the tree. There were red runes marked on his forehead and cheeks. The runes on his cheeks had somehow avoided being smudged by the snot and tears marring the rest of the kid\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m nine, and you\u2019re about to be a murderer,\u201d Mischief said, sniffling. \u201cYour a murdering bastard, and I hope that my spark eats you. I hope if I have this spark thing…I hope that it burns you up, that it boils your blood until it pours out your ears and nose.\u201d<\/p>\n Deaton stepped back from the table. \u201cWe\u2019re awakening your spark, and it might be volatile. There is no telling how it might react.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean it might attack you?\u201d Mischief narrowed his eyes. \u201cI hope it does.\u201d Mischief twisted his head out of Deaton\u2019s grip, and Peter felt more than saw the boy\u2019s eyes land on him.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps. It might also turn back on you, or if your thoughts latch onto someone else, they\u2019ll bear the brunt of your uncontrolled spark. This is why you are in the position you are.\u201d Deaton continued to hold Mischief down with his right hand on his chest while he set up a pile of what looked like herbs with his left.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t really care at this point,\u201d Mischief said, not taking his eyes off Peter. \u201cYou\u2019re going to murder me. I hope you get eaten by something.\u201d He narrowed his eyes at Peter and pursed his lips.<\/p>\n Peter cocked his head to the side, wondering what the boy was doing until it occurred to him that Mischief was trying to use his spark to get Peter to attack Deaton. Peter was reasonably sure that a spark\u2019s magic didn\u2019t work that way, but he gave the boy points for the attempt, and he wasn\u2019t averse to the action.<\/p>\n Deaton lit the herbs and began to chant in a mix of dead languages that grated on Peter\u2019s ears. He didn\u2019t know why the druid couldn\u2019t stick to just one language when he did these rituals. The hodgepodge magic Deaton did was part of why a large portion of the pack distrusted the man. Pulling from various schools was accepted, and there was wisdom in it, but to run a ritual where you switched language every third word was bordering on the absurd.<\/p>\n \u201cNow hold still, and you\u2019ll barely feel a thing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you know,\u201d Mischief said, voice shrill, and his shoes scraped on the stone as he tried to roll away from Deaton again. \u201cHave you ever been murdered by a crazy man before?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m trying to make this as easy on you as I can, Mr. Stilinski.\u201d Deaton sighed as if Mischief was being difficult over going to bed on time instead of objecting to being sacrificed.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI really can\u2019t.\u201d This time, Deaton held the boy down with his left hand, raising his right with a silver dagger that glinted in the moonlight.<\/p>\n The spark of the blade in the light, the shrill cry of the bo,y, and the snap-crack of magic flooding the clearing woke Peter from the trance he hadn\u2019t even realized he\u2019d fallen into.<\/p>\n His lips pulled back from his teeth as he began to growl. It rumbled up deep from his chest. Peter crouched, power coiling tight in his body as he eyed Deaton getting ready to bring the dagger down on an innocent boy in the middle of Hale territory. A boy whose magic was pulling desperately at Peter, begging for protection in a way that only pack did. Peter was inclined to give that protection. He leaped.<\/p>\n Mischief squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth open as he screamed wordlessly. He didn\u2019t know what Deaton was doing, but the hand that was holding Mischief down hurt. It was cold, too cold. It felt like it was freezing straight through Mischief\u2019s chest and into his heart. The cold cut sharp and painful, worse than when he\u2019d broken his arm last year falling off his bike.<\/p>\n \u201cJust a little more.\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief blinked his eyes open and saw Deaton start to lower the knife. Mischief closed his eyes and snapped his mouth shut, sucking in his breath. He tasted blood and knew he\u2019d bit his tongue, but he couldn\u2019t feel it over the pain in his chest. He didn\u2019t want to die, and while he didn\u2019t know what his spark was precisely, he didn\u2019t want Deaton to have it.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t have it,\u201d Mischief whispered. Sparks of light, all different colors, began to swirl behind his eyes, and he tried to think. He didn\u2019t pray. He\u2019d stopped believing in god when his mom had died the way she had. Mischief did wish, though, and he wished with everything he had, and he believed. Deaton wouldn\u2019t get his spark. Mischief had seen the wolf with strange eyes and, he knew that it would help him. The wolf would save Mischief and his spark.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?!\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief\u2019s eyes snapped open at Deaton\u2019s shout and the growls of the wolf. He rolled his head in time to see the giant silver wolf take Deaton down. The silver dagger went flying across the clearing.<\/p>\n \u201cStop, I\u2019m the Hale emissary!\u201d Deaton was shoving the wolf\u2019s large head away from his throat and managed to shove him back. \u201cYou\u2019ll be sanctioned for this.\u201d<\/p>\n The wolf huffed, and his eyes flared gold as he circled Deaton, lips pulled back from white teeth as he growled.<\/p>\n \u201cWho are you?\u201d Deaton tried to scramble to his feet but fell back when the wolf lunged at him again. \u201cI didn\u2019t know anyone outside of the Hales could still full shift.\u201d<\/p>\n A chuffing sound came from the wolf, and it took Mischief a second to realize the wolf was laughing at Deaton.<\/p>\n Deaton had managed to get to his feet and was backing the stone table. The wolf began to stalking forward, a constant rumbling growl echoing through the clearing.<\/p>\n \u201cStay where you are,\u201d Deaton ordered. \u201cI told you, I\u2019m the Hale\u2019s emissary. You can\u2019t harm me.\u201d<\/p>\n The wolf lunged at Deaton, taking him down again. Mischief rolled himself enough to see that the wolf had Deaton on the ground near the stone altar, with his teeth around his throat, both of his large front paws on the man\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want to do this,\u201d Deaton said hoarsely.<\/p>\n Mischief watched as Deaton raised his left hand. He saw the glint of silver. \u201cWatch out, the dagger!\u201d<\/p>\n The wolf snapped his jaws, and Deaton let out a gurgling moan. The wolf shook the man\u2019s throat before letting go and stepping off Deaton. Shaking himself, he stood next to Deaton and watched as the man\u2019s mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, his throat a shadowed mass of blood and gore that Mischief was glad he couldn\u2019t see clearly.<\/p>\n \u201cUm.\u201d Mischief watched as little lights began to rise out of Deaton and swirl around his body. They zipped straight towards Mischief, and he flinched, and the lights danced around his prone form. \u201cWhat\u2019s happening?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDeaton became the sacrifice.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh. Wait, what?!\u201d Mischief\u2019s eyes snapped away from the circling lights to the teenager that now stood in the clearing. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPeter Hale,\u201d Peter smirked as he sauntered over to Mischief. He had the silver dagger in his hand. \u201cWerewolf and your savior, apparently. Let\u2019s get you out of those ropes, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWerewolf? Sure, why not.\u201d Mischief laid back and stared up at the lights. He sucked in a breath in the first one, darted into his chest, a warming sensation filling him and chasing away the icy pain that still lingered from Deaton. The lights sank into him one by one until they were all gone. \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s happening. I want to go home now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI imagine you do,\u201d Peter agreed as he cut the ropes from Mischief\u2019s knees and helped the boy sit up before cutting the bindings on his wrists. Peter rubbed at the skin around Mischief\u2019s wrists and his hands. \u201cWe\u2019ll need to see my sister first, though. She\u2019ll explain some of this, and she can help.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou helped,\u201d Mischief said. He felt tears prick his eyes as pins and needles stung his hands. \u201cHow can your sister help?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s the alpha.\u201d Peter shrugged and lifted Mischief off the stone. \u201cShe\u2019s in charge of stuff like this. She\u2019ll help make sure that nobody gets in trouble for this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy dad\u2019s the sheriff,\u201d Mischief pointed out, but he took Peter\u2019s hand and let him lead him through the clearing and into the trees. \u201cYou saved me, he\u2019ll know it was self-defense.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour dad is going to believe werewolves and magic rituals?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2026\u201d Mischief bit at his lip. \u201cMaybe I should see what your alpha sister has to say.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood choice.\u201d Peter smiled down at him. \u201cYour spark was also fully awakened tonight. Not only that, but it looks like you absorbed Deaton\u2019s magic or something. It would be a good idea to get someone to look into that and get you some training.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNobody is going to eat my spark or anything, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Peter said fiercely, his hand squeezed tight around Mischief\u2019s fingers. \u201cI\u2019ll keep you safe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay. If you promise.\u201d Mischief moved closer to Peter.<\/p>\n \u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n Mischief stumbled and blinked blearily. \u201cI think the trees are trying to eat me again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAgain?\u201d Peter sounded amused. \u201cI think you might be tired.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe,\u201d Mischief said. \u201cHow far is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHere.\u201d Peter let go of his hand and knelt down in front of Mischief. \u201cClimb on my back. We\u2019ll get there quicker, and that way, the trees can\u2019t eat you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSmart.\u201d Mischief nodded, stumbling forward and clambering onto Peter\u2019s back.<\/p>\n Peter hooked his arms under Mischief\u2019s knees and stood. They began to head down the path once again.<\/p>\n Mischief laid his head against Peter\u2019s shoulder and closed his eyes. He finally felt warm and safe again. A little nap before facing the alpha didn\u2019t seem like too much to ask. Mischief didn\u2019t know what would happen when he met Peter\u2019s sister, but he felt better knowing that Peter would be there to keep him safe.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Title: The Folly in Sacrifice Series: Reasonable Chaos Author: Sibyl Moon Fandom: Teen Wolf Genre: Adventure, Drama, Relationship: Gen Stiles & Peter Beta: HarleyJQuin Warnings\/Rating: Murder, Attempted child sacrifice*, language, Canon-typical-violence Word Count: 4448 Summary: On the way home from a date 16-year-old Peter Hale comes across Deaton, the pack… Continue reading<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4,50,9],"tags":[11,49,51,30,31],"class_list":["post-537","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-gen","category-reasonable-chaos","category-teen-wolf","tag-au","tag-peter-hale","tag-reasonable-chaos","tag-stiles-stilinski","tag-teen-wolf"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=537"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sibylmoon.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nSeries:<\/b> Reasonable Chaos<\/a>
\nAuthor: <\/b>Sibyl Moon
\nFandom<\/b>: Teen Wolf
\nGenre:<\/b> Adventure, Drama,
\nRelationship<\/b>: Gen Stiles & Peter
\nBeta:<\/b> HarleyJQuin<\/a>
\nWarnings\/Rating<\/b>: Murder, Attempted child sacrifice*, language, Canon-typical-violence
\nWord Count: <\/b>4448
\nSummary: <\/b>On the way home from a date 16-year-old Peter Hale comes across Deaton, the pack emissary, attempting to sacrifice a kid in the middle of the preserve.
\nAuthor Note: <\/b>Canon? What is canon? If you mean that device I\u2019ve loaded to obliterate pretty much everything about the show so I can rebuild it with the rubble that I like…then sure, there might be canon in here.
\nAge is but a number and I\u2019ve change birthdates and ages to suit my whim and the story.
\n* <\/b>(no actual child sacrifice takes place)<\/i><\/p>\nChapter One<\/h1>\n
Chapter Two<\/h1>\n