Perigee

Chapter 9

It took several days for Deaton to find the book. My parents helped us put Stiles up in a hotel and protected the doorway with mountain ash so I couldn’t get it. Things had escalated that much. Deaton told us to meet him at the book store. That meant Stiles and I would be in the car together, but we figured we could hold it together long enough.

When he stepped into the car, we both had to fight the urge to kiss one another. His scent was enough to send my hormones into a fury. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

 As we rode, Stiles attempted to take my mind off sex by telling me about the funny encounter he had with one of the hotel maids. “She kept vacuuming up the Mountain Ash. When I told her it was there on purpose and I would clean it, she told me that I might be possessed by the devil and that was why I had tattoos. She offered to bring her priest.”

I laughed, imagining the scene and the exasperated look on Stiles’ face. “I just can’t wait for all of this to be over. I haven’t slept without you by my side in years. I don’t like it.”

“Well, hopefully Deaton will be able to fix this,” Stiles said. As we pulled into the book store’s parking lot, I had to quickly open the door. Stiles’ scent was becoming too intoxicating. I rushed out of the car, panting for air that didn’t smell like him. “Are you alright?”

I looked up at him, resisting the instinct to shift. Stiles quickly put himself downwind of me. Deaton could see me struggling and came out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, I growled at him, glaring before I could pull myself back together. I was shaking. I had never before been so out of control… even on the full moon.

“Are you alright?” Deaton asked. Stiles watched, his face painted with worry.

I nodded slowly, forcing myself to stand up. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. Luckily I figured out how to fix it,” Deaton replied. “Come on… let’s go inside.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple flower, handing it to Stiles. “That’s wolfsbane. I need you to hold that flower while you’re around him. It’ll cover your scent, for the most part. Just make sure you wash your hands before you touch him. It’s toxic to werewolves.”

Stiles took the flower, watching sadly as I struggled to keep my composure. Once we were inside, Deaton switched the sign to “closed” and we retreated to the back room. Deaton was right, though… the wolfsbane helped. Though I consciously knew I couldn’t help the urges I was having, I felt guilty for coming so close to harming Stiles and Deaton.

There was a large leather-bound book on the table. It was much larger than the one we used to translate Stiles’ tattoos. “This is the Book of Days and Nights,” Deaton told us, his voice somber. “It’s one of the oldest works in our culture. It contains untold magic and is not to be taken lightly.”

He opened it, flipping straight to the ritual. The book was written in the language of the tattoos, but it was easier to read than before. I scanned the page. “The perigee. We say the incantation and during the perigee we attempt mating… Are you kidding me? I can barely contain myself now! How am I supposed to get through that?”

“Why?” Stiles asked. “What happens during the perigee?”

Deaton turned to Stiles. “The moon will be closest to the earth. The bond between you two will be at its strongest. But unfortunately, it’s the one full moon that can strain even the most in-control werewolves.”

“I could kill you in this process,” I added, wanting to make sure that the full gravity of this situation was conveyed.

“You won’t,” Stiles replied.

“I almost did in the parking lot!” I countered.

“The perigee is two nights away,” Deaton told us.

“I don’t see how that’s any help if Stiles’ life is in danger either way!”

“We can use electricity to control your urge to shift,” Deaton said. “The experience won’t be a pleasant one for either of you… but it doesn’t have to be if it gets the job done.”

“And I suppose you just happen to have a constant source of electricity that won’t kill us?” I challenged.

“Actually, I do,” Deaton smiled, rummaging through a door, he pulled out a collar.

“No… I’m not wearing a collar. I’m not a dog!” I said. I was feeling particularly irritable and I knew I was being difficult, but I was at a loss for how to stop.

“You only have to wear it for as long as it takes to finish the ritual. You can take it off after that and you won’t be much of a threat,” Deaton explained.

I reluctantly took the collar from him. He showed me how to operate it and even gave me extra batteries for “just in case.” 

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The time spent waiting for the perigee to happen was excruciating. I told my family about the plan and all of them were worried, even if they didn’t say anything. Mom tried to help calm my nerves with one of my favorite desserts. She and I sat at the kitchen table eating together.

“You’ll get through this, Derek… and you’ll be a stronger wolf for it,” she told me, breaking the silence.

“I know I’ll get through it,” I replied. “My concern is whether or not Stiles will.”

Mom reached across, taking my hand in hers. “You have a connection to him spanning nearly your entire life. Use that as a source of strength. That’s a lot of time to love somebody.”

Laura and Uncle Peter sat down with us. “I might tease you, Derek… but it’s because that’s my job as your big sister. You’re going to do the ritual and make me an Aunt so that I can spoil that child unmercifully. You’ve fought hard for this. You deserve it.”

I was shocked. In my 21 years, that was the nicest thing she had ever said to me. “And what do I do if our plan fails?” I asked softly.

Uncle Peter shifted in his seat, considering his answer carefully. “If something goes wrong, we will be here for you as your pack and as your family. Stiles is one of us now. If there’s anything you need us to do to help the ritual go smoothly, all you need to do is ask.”

That night as I lay in my bed, I stared out my window at the moon. For the first time in my life, I wished I weren’t a werewolf. None of this would be happening if I weren’t. I would be able to love my Mate and let it rest at that… until the realization struck me. What if this was a test? Stiles could have easily forgotten about this test… he’d forgotten a lot of other things, and even if he hadn’t forgotten, he wasn’t allowed to tell me beforehand, anyway. All of the tests were designed to help me become a better Alpha. In previous tests, I’d had to learn persistence and forgiveness. What if this test was designed to help me learn self-control. An Alpha had to be the one in control at all moments. He couldn’t allow his biology and emotions to dictate his life for him. The collar would be a short cut… an easy way through a larger problem. I needed to learn to control the urge and control myself… by myself.