Chapter Text
The question echoed through Derek's mind, deafening him with its implications.
~ What makes you worth four million? ~
~ What makes you worth the debt your family owns me? ~
Derek wanted to growl, to snap his teeth at the tall boy next to him. Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski's errand boy, who had brought him here in a sleek car, while his sisters had following them in Laura's Camaro. Now the tall teenager looked at him expectantly, like putting someone on display half naked was normal.
Yet in the world they were living in, it absolutely could be. His family, his own mother, had sent him here. Talia Hale was offering him as compensation for a debt the Hale Family was not able to pay. But he alone was not adequate. So Derek was supposed to reveal his families' most protected secret.
He fought through the fuzziness of his mind, and tried to decide for himself rather than being a dog on a leash that could be ordered in any direction. But his older sister had wanted to make this easier for him. That's why a special brand of wolfsbane was coursing through his veins, making him dull and unassertive.
His older sister had wanted to help him, by numbing his mind. But in this very moment he hated her for it. Hated Laura as much as every other member of his family, for taking away his free will, his ability to choose his path for himself, even when he knew he deserved this … servitude or worse … beyond the shadow of doubt.
~ * ~
For years now his family had struggled. When he had betrayed them just to prove himself … when the Argents, one Kate Argent had used a chance he had practically served her on a silver platter … after they had lost some of their most beloved family members in an ambush he had helped planning unknowingly several years ago, things had taken a severe downturn for the Hale Family.
Once wealthy and influential, the state of business had lessened ever since their encounter with the Argents. The 'Sheriff' had helped them, had lent them money at Talia's request, so that they could get back on their feet. He had just recently taken over the family business after his wife had been assassinated by a rivalling crime family. He had been rich but lacked allies. It had been a generous arrangement, ten years to pay back with an insignificant amount of interest since and in return the Hales had supported business deals and backed up his position.
Then the Sheriff had died. Of 'natural causes' or so they had said. The sad truth was that a bullet in the back really was a natural cause when you worked in organized crime. When you dealt with drugs, prostitution, weapons and other illegal substances you made enemies. Even though John Stilinski had been well respected in Beacons Hills and the surrounding cities, his fortune in business had been frowned upon, in more than one way. He had been called ruthless, a cut-throat who stacked to nothing. Still, the people who did business with him knew him to be fair. Those he took out of the game because they couldn't keep up had executed their revenge.
The 'Sheriff's' son had been involved somehow. Derek didn't know the whole story. Rumour had it, that he had avenged his father before taking over the lead position of the Stilinski Clan, despite being the only member operating in America. The family centred in Poland, the Czech Republic and Slovakia and was currently expanding east. The 'American Stilinskis' had provided a gate to the west and now Stiles was the one who kept it open.
Therefore the Hale Family was dependant on his good will and when the day of payment had come closer and closer Derek's parents had become more and more closed off. Not seeing the chance to come up with the money without damaging their trade substantially they had come to a decision. One month ago, they had told him that he would be the payment and with him the secret of their race.
For a instant the man wanted to fight his fate. Derek wanted to come up with another solution. A solution for him to be enough so that he would not betray his family's secret, even when he had been ordered to do so. But the insistent voice of the Lahey boy brought him back to the present.
~ * ~
When he looked up, all he could see were two raised eyebrows from his new pack leader – at least that's what this boy would be if he took the offer – apparently judging his every move. Closing his eyes, Derek tightened his fists, fighting past a rage born of self-hatred that had been his anchor for so long. He needed to let go but as affected as he was now by the wolfsbane, he could not be sure that his wolf would not attack this human. Then on the other hand, what did it matter?
Derek had smelled the weapon on this Lahey kid the second he had picked him up at his family's home. He had seen the taser on the boy's belt. They were cautious about letting an obviously well trained fighter close to their leader. Not that this laughable weapon would be of any help. Still, Derek had to give them credit for good preparation.
He would most likely be injured and in pain if he lost control. He could deal with injuries. He could deal with pain. So he let go and allowed the wolf to take over, threw himself into a shift that had been unavoidable from the moment his parents had told him about their decision.
The change was glorious. Short, agonizing, exhilarating and for the first moments after taking his wolf-form, Derek revelled in the simplicity of his animal-state. A wolf didn't think about right and wrong. He thought about survival. He didn't care what others thought of him, as long as he was given food and was protected by the pack. Exactly that feeling brought Derek to his knees. Well, more or less his knees since he was walking on all fours now.
Ever since he had told his mother, his Alpha, what he thought of her plan to sell him off (He had stated in no uncertain terms that she could shove her plan up a … very dark place.) his parents had become cold towards him. They hadn't engaged in any physical contact until he had begrudged agreed to their plan. Since this had only happened last night, his wolf was starved for affection.
When Stiles shot up from his chair, staggering at the sight of the giant, black Timberwolf, whose shoulders reached the boys hips, Derek couldn't supress a low whine. The last thing he wanted was for this boy to reject him. Things would get even worse for his family if the Stilinski-boy didn't take the deal, and it would, once again, be his fault. So Derek lowered himself to his belly to appear as non-threatening as possible.
But instead of rejecting him, out of the blue the teenager started laughing and sank to one knee in front of his chair, holding out his hand. Maybe this last month had weakened his resolve, because before Derek could make a conscious choice, his wolf had already approached the human and had buried his big head in the slim chest of the young man. Stiles instantly wrapped his arms around him, carded his fingers through the thick hair on Derek's chest and shoulders, scratching him and burying his face in the wolf's soft pelt.
"I guess that solves the mystery of the large wolves that roam our woods on occasion," Stiles snickered, looking up at Isaac.
The tall boy only shrugged, watching his boss cuddle his new pet, with a small smile on his face.
Derek's wolf was utterly, utterly happy. This human, his new Alpha, was petting him, was tugging at his hair but never pulling painfully. He was shaking Derek's massive form, allowing the wolf to bury his nose in his neck and smelled delightfully of joy. He had not received this much affection in over a month … no, he had not received this much free and joyous affection in longer than he cared to admit.
Derek tried to regain control, tried to tell his wolf-side to be cautious. That the human only was gleeful because he was getting a new pet, a new plaything. That he was happy about the power the knowledge meant for him. But his wolf did not care. Stiles smelled like the tall redwood-trees of their forest, of sunflowers and earth. The wolf wanted to roll around in that scent, to get it all over himself because it smelled more like home than the Hale-house had in a very long time.
A discrete cough from the Lahey-boy put an end to their games, and at first Derek's wolf bared his teeth at him. But Stiles only slapped the tip of his ear, not painful, just to gain his attention. "Hey, none of that! Isaac is right. We still have business to attend to."
The young man rose, and the smile and the happiness was washed away in a heartbeat. He straightened his clothes and brushed off Derek's hair. Once he was presentable he reclaimed his chair and snapped his finger by his side. "Sit," he commanded and before Derek could contemplate disobedience he already sat at Stiles heel.
Apparently his wolf did not care about being commanded, as long as he got the chance to be close to Stiles. Instantly he was rewarded with the long, elegant fingers returning to the back of his neck, scratching him comfortingly while Stiles nodded to his errand boy, "Alright, let them in, Isaac."
"Yes, Mr. Stilinski."
~ * ~
His mother had given in to the request of his sister Laura and his uncle Peter to be allowed to seal the deal. Derek knew Laura to be here because she honestly cared. But Peter's presence bothered him greatly. In the attack a few years ago, his uncle had lost both his wife and his daughter and had not been the same after. He had been cold, sometimes downright cruel towards Derek – which honestly was understandable – but at times he even behaved vicious towards his own Alpha slash sister and towards the rest of the pack. Instinctively the wolf shifted closer to Stiles and fixed his family members once they entered to room.
"I see you have already decided upon my brother's position," Laura stated coldly. "The prospect of having a wolf-pet who obeys your every command, must be quite appealing to a human." The last word she spat out as if it was an insult.
Not allowing this snarky comment to faze him, Stiles continued his caresses of Derek's neck, answering drily, "What a witty comment. Go on Laura, get it all out. Don't rein in this feral temper of yours on my account. There really is no need now that the cat's out of the bag."
Eyes flashing blue, the female werewolf took a menacing step closer and Isaac was already drawing his gun when her uncle held her back.
His words were like liquid silk, placating the tense atmosphere, when he reminded his niece, "Now, now Laura. I think one wolf is enough for Mr. Stilinski for one day. We still have to seal this deal."
"And what is your proposal exactly, Mr. Hale?" Stiles asked, sarcasm forgotten.
"My nephew Derek, one of the strongest wolves of our pack, entirely at your disposal. I am sure you are aware of the implications of such a gesture." Peter replied smoothly, a menacing grin on his lips.
Of course Stiles was aware of the implications, he had talked about them with his friends ever since he had received Isaac's text that he was not bringing money but a person as compensation. So the head of the Stilinski Clan nodded and gestured towards Derek, "Although I appreciate the gesture, as well as the offered information, do you really expect me to believe that this young man is handing over his life so easily, especially when considering that he is a werewolf and surely several times stronger than me?"
"Well," Peter grinned, "that's where the second part of our proposal comes in." He reached into his jacket, slowing his movements when Isaac raised his gun, pulling forth a long box, offering it to Stiles.
When the teenager nodded Peter Hale approached him and opened the box. A softly, gleaming leather-collar was revealed. The piece looked sturdy enough to hold a normal wolf, but it was unlikely that it would match the strength of a shape-shifter. The representative of the Hales' explained, "This is an enchanted collar that comes with the pet. You fasten it around his neck and not only will you be the only one who can ever release him, it will bend him to your will. Whenever you command, he will be unable to resist, wolf or human form.
"If your first command is for him not to hurt you, you should be safe."
Taking in the gleeful grin of the uncle, Stiles touched the soft leather. After a moment, he showed a lewd smile and picked up the collar, turning toward Derek. "I assume it will shift with him."
"Of course it will." Peter assured him. "He won't be able to free himself without your consent. He will not be able to leave your side either and he will obey your every order."
"Good." Stiles downright purred when closing the collar, apparently enjoying the power he was now wielding.
~ * ~
Derek hated this. He had tried to meet Stiles' eyes, had attempted to convey that he would not need to collar, that he was willing to cooperate. This was his chance to prove his worth after all. But the boy had not even looked at him, apparently too entranced by the promise of power and dominance. His uncle's lecherous grin and his lascivious thoughts that were written all over his face, made him hold back a desperate whine. He didn't want to appear weak in front of his uncle of all people.
When the collar closed and the magic activated, Derek felt an all-encompassing weight pressing down on him. He sank to his belly, scratching his neck frantically to get rid of the source of the horrible feeling, but Stiles commanded, "Leave it."
Instantly Derek froze in the middle of the gesture, unable to touch the collar again. When Stiles once more clicked his fingers beside his chair, the human part of his personality was able to interpret the gesture. With a quiet yelp he crouched back to his initial place, all but on his belly.
The wolf was whining in his head, demanding from him to get rid of the contraption, to bring the boy back who had petted them and had smelled so happy. But Derek knew that this was over. Stiles had taken the very last thing they might have had to offer: his free will.
His wolf had submitted on his own, happy to have someone so nice to them, he had felt comfortable with. Derek knew that sooner or later he would have given in to the feeling, given in to Stiles since he had been the source of happiness for his wolf. It was, after all, impossible to fight the needs of his wolf for an extended amount of time. If the wolf liked Stiles, Derek would have liked him too in the end. But now they would never find out, because from now on, he was nothing more than an obedient slave-pet.
~ * ~
Stiles and his uncle were talking business, finalizing the trade. Talia Hale was indeed offering her son, without reservations as Peter explained, but – as Laura added – she reserved the right to buy him back if the family came into the money. Agreeing, Stiles shook both Laura and Peter's hand, ignoring the woman's attempts to break his bones, before Isaac showed them to the door.
Stiles had reclaimed his chair, through the entire negotiations, but had not returned to petting Derek, no matter how often the wolf had nudged his thigh.
'There you have it,' was all Derek could think. 'There is no use in trusting strangers, no matter how good they smell or how nice they are at first. The new Alpha might carry the scent of home, but he doesn't want us, not really. He wants a mindless pet that's obedient to his every whim.'
'Don't care,' the wolf had whined. 'Make him return! Pet us again, be nice again!'
The need was so overwhelming and Derek's mind still felt clouded. So he was unable to resist his animalistic instincts. Before he realized, he had approached Stiles and Isaac who now stood in the middle of the room, whispering numbers, one after the other.
"Seven" Isaac mumbled.
"Eight" Stiles breathed.
"Nine" Isaac, counted.
"Ten" Stiles finished, touching his ear, begging nearly desperately, "Tell me we are in the clear!"
Apparently he received a positive answer, because before Derek could react Stiles whipped around and, in his haste to approach him, tripped and slithered towards him on his knees. Frantically he pulled at the collar, scrambled for the closure, dragging it free from the latch and within a moment the oppressive weight lifted both from Derek's body and his mind.
He saw Stiles flung the collar as far away as possible, sinking down on the floor, breathing hard. Grateful that the hateful thing was gone, Derek lay down beside the boy, offering his body to lean on to.
The teen took the offer, leaning against Derek for a moment, before he looked up at Isaac who had stopped the sliding collar with the tip of his shoe, picking up the offensive piece of leather.
Stiles voice was strained when he demanded, "Keep that thing as far away from me as possible."
Not asking for an explanation, the tall boy put it into a bag and stored it in his jacket before approaching Stiles, offering his hand to help the lanky boy to his feet.
Stiles took the help gladly and for a moment, Derek could see them leaning against each other, drawing comfort. A pang of longing shooting through him, because they seemed so familiar, so comfortable with each other, before Stiles straightened his lapels once again, looking down at Derek.
"Come on wolf-boy. Let's go home."
~ * ~