"A silent battle of dominance..."

It had taken Hope two seconds to regret the words that spilled from her mouth. His steely gaze cut through her realm of security like a worn blade. Hope was almost positive it was jagged enough to cause a later infection.

"What did you just say?" his voice echoed as if it were at a far distance.

"I..." she stammered, her legs becoming jelly as she tried to speak through the weight on her chest.

Scott placed a hand on the man's shoulder and said, "Derek. Take it easy. She won't say anything if you keep freaking her out."

"I am not freaking out," Hope said sharply, voice as severe as Derek's eyes, "You don't intimidate me." Although, that wasn't entirely true. Now that she had identified the intent of her instincts, she could better keep her emotions under control. However, his stature was genuinely intimidating. With his broad shoulders and tall impressive physique, he was no doubt a man capable of leading a strong pack.

Derek stepped forward, a strange aura of power surging from his body. It was that same electrical feeling she'd felt when she saw the figure standing in her backyard. She parted her lips, tasting it on her tongue.

"You were in my backyard. On the edge of the woods. I know it was you."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips and disappeared quickly. "You don't take kindly to strangers, so I've heard." Their eyes remained connected. It was a silent battle of dominance where the tension hit its peak. It wasn't until a voice broke through their concentration that Derek tore his eyes from Hope, releasing her from the metaphorical grip around her throat.

"Look, I don't know what kind of wolfy thing is going on here, but I'd like some answers," Stiles started, caught Derek's glare, and quickly back peddled, "Or, I mean, whenever you finish with your conversation. If that's what that is...."

Hope didn't dare glance in the direction of Derek again, too terrified she might be trapped in his gaze again. "You want information. I can understand that. It doesn't mean I'm obligated to tell you anything," she said as she turned from them and hoisted her suitcase out from under the bed, "I'll be out of here by dawn." She couldn't stay; she knew that. Instincts or not, she couldn't be here any longer than she had to.

"Why?" Stiles asked, strangely upset.

"Why, really?" she retorted, looking over her shoulder at him. "You're asking me that?" She shook her head and unzipped the luggage, pushing the top back.

"Yeah, I am asking that. So you show up here, traumatize us in the Jeep Ride of Doom, and then when we finally catch you, all you say in your oh-so-mysterious way is that you came here for Derek for God only knows what reason, "he paused, trying to regain his receding voice, "Now you're just gonna leave? Just like that?"

"Yes," Hope said bluntly, grabbing for her wallet to pack away. Her arm didn't make it to the side table, unfortunately. She looked up at Derek, who was not only inches from her but holding her wrist in a firm grip. If she didn't heal so quickly, she'd be sure there'd be faint bruising.

His expression was blank, aside from a thin shade of curiosity. He picked up the wallet and opened the flaps while keeping Hope's wrist secure. "Hope Marie Montgomery. I'm going to assume that isn't your real name?" he asked, casting his eyes down on her.

"It is, actually, asshat. Let go." She yanked her hand free, refraining from yelping from the pain it caused. Grabbing the wallet from him, she tossed it into her suitcase. "Now. Get out." Her tone was low and demanding. She could feel that power she'd had back in New Orleans begin to well up inside again. She'd missed it desperately. It was the dominating power of her true self—the tribrid alpha.

Derek gave a tooth-filled crooked grin, tilting his head to the side with blazing eyes. "You know. I'm starting to want you to make me."

"Oh, God..." Stiles began as he slowly backed away towards the door. There was a charge of electric dominance in the standstill room. "Please, I am begging for the sake of my fragile life...."

"Shut up, Stiles," Hope said in extreme annoyance. Then, with a quick and forceful wave of her hand, she sent Stiles and Scott backward out the door and slammed it shut. The lock clicked, and she and Derek were alone in the room together.

Hope could feel the magic pumping through her veins at an alarming rate. It felt like her fingertips were pulsating. "Go on then. Please show me the big bad wolf you are. Or is that just a show?"

It was without a moment's hesitation that he had his hands on her. One locked around her wrist, again like a vice. The other took hold of the back of her neck. She braced herself, expecting his grip to be tight, but it wasn't. Instead, it cradled her with care. Slowly, he forced her head to lean back, exposing the vulnerable flesh of her throat.

Time stopped as she felt his fangs touch against her pulsing jugular vein. It was a strange sensation. Hope didn't feel threatened and didn't feel the need to protect herself. Slowly, her eyes closed, waiting in anticipation. For what she didn't know.

His hot lips seared against her skin, and Hope fought the urge to utter a soft moan of compliance. Refusing to give in to his dominance. "Do it." She said hoarsely, and she was pretty sure she wasn't referring to him tearing her throat out.

Derek moved, pulling her out of her state of vulnerability, and locked his eyes with hers. "I have questions. You have answers. Humor me." His voice was like crunched gravel in his throat. His thumb grazed along with the apple of her smooth cheek, and she knew she'd do just about anything for him at that moment.

A steaming cup of dark brew filled the kitchen with an earthy aroma. It was the blend Hope always went for when she needed to handle something emotionally heavy. Hope entered the living room, deciding not to mention how grateful she was for Derek starting a fire in the hearth. She was desperately trying to get his image and the sensation of his lips against her skin out of her head.

She was losing the battle.

While sitting on the end of the couch, she had her back against the side cushion. Her feet nestled under a pillow, eyes on Stiles and Scott, who sat across the room watching her. At least she had an audience.

"Alright, question number one," Scott started, taking a small sip from his mug, "How do you know Derek?"

Stiles glanced over at him with shocked disbelief. "That's your number one question?"

"Well, yeah..." he said slowly, "Why, what's wrong with that? What would you have asked?"

"What would I have asked? Oh, I don't know, maybe what the hell are you?"

"Ladies," Hope interjected. She ignored Derek, who smirked from his place on the rug in front of the blazing fire. "How about this. I will tell you what I think you should know and if you have questions, you can ask them. However, I don't guarantee I'll answer or answer honestly."

"That sounds like a rip-off," Stiles said, crossing his arms.

"Never said it wasn't."

"Alright, fine. Just talk, please," Stiles quickly added, noting her expression.

Hope took a swig of her coffee and nodded as she thought about where to begin. "I won't drown you with unnecessary details. You know the supernatural world exists. What I am- goes against the balance of nature. You may call me a tribrid," she said, smiling, primarily to herself. Not everyone could say they were a thriller concoction of cinema monsters. It was something to be proud of, she thought.

"So, you're a mix. A mix of what?" Scott asked, eyes narrowing.

"That's the tricky explanation..." her voice trailed off, hesitating. It was always difficult explaining to others her status when they didn't understand the endless possibilities of the supernatural world. She always feared the reactions of others, and subconsciously she knew it was because, throughout her life, they'd never accepted her into their worlds. What she was supposed to be a part of. Everyone hated what she was at some point or another.

"I'm a mixture of a Werewolf, not the traditional you're familiar with," she added as a quick side note and continued, "A Vampire and a Witch. I was born, not created. My parents will not be in this discussion." If there were one thing she'd keep from them, it was her family and their whereabouts. They didn't need any more trouble, especially from her.

She watched them all exchange glances as they tried to comprehend this sudden new information.

"Dead silence. Just what I was hoping for."

"Sorry, we're just...processing," Stiles blinked away his confused gaze, "Alright. So, you're a deluxe package with all the bells and whistles? The blood in the freezer. We weren't just seeing things?"

Hope offered a small smile that almost touched her eyes. "You're sane, yes. I cast a spell over the box to hide the appearance. I destroyed your phone to keep you from sharing the photos with your dad. I bewitched your minds and your Jeep to keep you occupied while I followed..." her gaze flitted toward Derek and quickly tore away. "Something."

Stiles suddenly looked shocked and hurt. And with a small gasp, he said, "You broke my phone?"

She stared at him for a moment. "Your priorities concern me."

"They concern us all," Scott said, "Now tell us what you meant when you said you came here for Derek?"

Slowly, she turned her head to address Derek fully. "I'm afraid that answer is for his ears only."

"Damn," Stiles said softly, clearly enjoying the soap opera.

Damn indeed.

Derek and Hope were alone, sitting across from each other on the couch. They were both as silent as the grave. Their expressions and postures dared the other to speak first, but neither of them did. So instead, they shared a mutual silence that allowed Hope's mind to wander. She took note of his eyes first. They were no longer the dazzling blue she saw upstairs in her bedroom but a deep moss green flecked with shards of silver. She could imagine herself diving into the murky waters of his eyes, never resurfacing. To think, she'd wanted to kill him an hour ago.

"You told me you had a question," Hope said, finally breaking the silence, "I'm waiting," she paused, "Patiently. I might add."

She watched him as he bit his lower lip; the simple action made her insides churn. He didn't know her or what buttons to push, yet he was, applying pressure to all the right ones.

"I had a dream, well, dreams...I can't be certain, but I think they were about you" Derek's dark brows shifted into a confused scowl.

"Me?" she asked, a flood of red hot blood rushing through her as she realized they must have shared dreams. She carefully cleared her throat. "What were they about?"

"It's hard to explain," he began, still gazing into her eyes with severity, "But I know they were of you. I just...know...."

"I understand what you mean," she murmured. "I've had dreams too. They've been..." she took a moment searching for the right word, "Intense."

"That sounds about right."

At least they agreed on how the dreams felt, but what did they mean? The universe, or whatever entity controlled her instincts, couldn't be telling them both the same thing.

Giving a soft sigh, she rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't believe in coincidences as much as I used to. So, I suppose the question is, what does all this mean, and what do we do about it?" He was silent. It was the opposite of what she wanted. "I know this is going to sound insane, but I left New Orleans because, for weeks, I've had this pulling, this tugging that led me here. I traveled miles and miles of dirt and paved roads, following this instinct without a clue as to what was at the end of the line. Now I'm here, and you're answering my questions. I should be happy. To finally understand, but to know that you're what's been tugging and the reason behind it, I just..." she couldn't finish her sentence. It seemed so surreal. Hope wanted an exciting life of adventure with occasional misfortune and learned lessons, while her body wanted children with the man across from her. It was maddening.

"What is the reason?" he asked, voice so soft and gentle he sounded like a different person.

She met his stare again. "Don't ask what you already know."

Again, silence.

"What are we supposed to do about it?" he asked.

"You tell me."

Hope watched him cautiously as his eyes grazed her body, appreciating her form. His hands touched her calves, carefully holding them firmly before suddenly pulling her toward him. With her knees pressed against the sides of his ribcage, she could feel the thumping of his heart. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Just like her dreams. He leaned forward, lips stopping just before they touched hers.

"I'll let you decide," he murmured, closing his eyes as his cheek pressed against hers, the texture sending a frozen chill down her spine.

Hope could remain here in this frame of time. She could let the past week's fear, angst, and uncertainty wash away with his surprisingly tender embrace. They were both feeble at that moment. Strong and capable, yet horribly weak in each other's presence.

Yes, she would decide. Later.