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Summary
“Hello, Peter. We have a proposition for you.”
Peter recognized that voice. It belonged to the one time Hale emissary, Alan Deaton. Peter’s fangs dropped and he growled but it was pathetic to his own ears. He didn’t trust a word out of the druid’s mouth but there was little he could do about it in his weakened state.
The light moved to the side and Peter blinked to clear his vision. A throat was cleared and Peter heard a husky, “Hey, Peter.”
He recognized that voice as well. Stiles. The too clever human boy who ran with wolves. Interesting.