Derek is sitting on the porch, staring absentmindedly into the forest when he hears the footfall coming up the driveway. He frowns. Nobody should be coming. Nobody ever does.
Then a familiar scent drifts in the morning air.
His head snaps up.
…Aria?
A few feet away she came to a halt, hunched over as she tries to catch her breath.
Derek stands up slowly, muscles coiling with tension and something deeper—something primal—answering to her presence before his mind can catch up. The air between them crackles. Electric. Alive. He takes a step forward, then stops himself.
"Aria…" His voice is rougher than he intends—low, strained, as if even speaking her name costs him something. "What are you doing here?"
She looks up at him, her eyes still hidden behind the shades. "I had to see you."
Derek freezes. His breath hitches.
The words hit him like a physical force—because he feels them, too. That pull, that need… it hasn't faded. If anything, it's grown stronger since last night. But seeing her here—real and close enough to touch—it's almost too much too bare.
"I shouldn't want this…" he mutters, more to himself than her. "Shouldn't even be looking at you…"
Yet he can't look away.
"You don't know what you're doing," he says hoarsely. "You don't know what I am..."
Aria lifts her chin slightly, voice trembling but defiant: "I don't care."
And before either of them can stop it—She takes a step forward.
Then another.
Until she's standing right in front of him—close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from her skin, close enough for the scent of vanilla and salt to drown out everything else in his world. Derek shudders.
"Please... run..."
"No..." She says standing her ground. "I may not know what I've gotten myself into... But you've already left your mark on me."
Derek's breath stutters. His hands clench at his sides—claws threatening to emerge, not from anger… but from fear. "What… did you say?" His voice is barely above a whisper now, strained with something between dread and desperate hope.
Aria reaches up slowly—her fingers trembling—and carefully removes the sunglasses.
And there it is. Golden flecks dancing in her irises like embers in twilight. A shadowed ring of molten light tracing the rim—the unmistakable mark of an Anima Cantat bond taking root.
She doesn't look away as tears glisten in her eyes. "Last night… I didn't dream it, did I? The way I felt you… inside my head... my body… my blood..." Her voice breaks, "I came apart like I was yours—and you weren't even there."
A low growl rumbles through Derek's chest—he can't stop it—but this time, it isn't rage.
It's recognition. Because he knows now. Sees what he refused to believe last night.
She is marked. By him. Through their connection alone. Something had clearly awoken within her. And there's no denying it.
"This isn't something I can cover up. Stiles is already on my case. Finding the shades suspicious..." Aria said as she gave a step closer, standing practically abreast.
Derek flinches at the mention of Stiles—then at how close she's standing, her warmth brushing against him like a promise his body is desperate to accept. "You shouldn't be here," he repeats, voice rough with restraint. "This—us—it's not safe. For either of us."
Aria lets out a shaky laugh, eyes glistening in the dim morning light. "Safe? Derek, since when has anything about this felt safe? Last night… I didn't just feel you—I was you. Your breath, your pulse… that ache between your legs when you came…" She steps even closer, so close that his mind threat to rush into a different direction.
"You think I don't know how stupid this sounds? Everyone will lose their minds if they find out? But I can't fight it. And frankly, neither can you."
Derek growls low—a sound torn between pain and surrender—as the truth crashes over him. He raises a hand—not to push her away, but to cup her face. His thumb brushes over her cheekbone, voice breaking: "I've tried to stop it… I didn't want this... for either of us... But every time I breathe… all I smell is you. And now…" His gaze drops to her eyes again—the gold flickering like fire in shadow—"You're becoming something no one else had seen yet. Something only I would recognize, but the world would see."
"Don't deny me, Derek... Please, don't?" Aria begged as she stretched out on her toes, a little closer to his height.
A strangled sound rips from Derek's throat, raw and desperate. His hand tightens on her face, and it takes all he has not to pull her against him like he wants to. To claim her the way every muscle in his body is screaming for. "Aria…" he whispers hoarsely, "You don't know what you're asking for." His eyes are locked on hers, and he tries again—one last time—to make her understand: "Please… Run..."
"No..." She repeats herself.
Derek closes his eyes, and for one agonizing moment, he just stands there—holding himself still, trying to find some scrap of reason in a world that feels like it's been rewritten just for them. When he opens them again, the air between them shivers—the connection between them tightening like a bow ready to snap.
"Last chance," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible. "If you walk through that door, everything changes."
Aria brushed past him, walked toward the door, stepped through and turned around looking at his back. "Show me..."
Derek goes rigid. The air around them crackles with electricity. It's hard to breathe... Derek slowly turns around—every muscle coiled with restraint. His gaze roams over her like she's already his. "Show you what?" He asks, voice tight with barely restrained need.
"Show me how everything changes."
Derek takes one step toward her, then another—slow, deliberate, like a predator who knows the hunt is already over.
The door swings shut behind Aria with a soft click. And just like that… there's no turning back.
Derek stops inches away from her, his voice dropping to something dark and velvet: "You want to know how it changes? Then I'll show you." His hand lifts—not to touch her face this time—but to brush against the side of her neck. A whisper of contact. A promise.
Then he leans in, breath warm against her ear: "Every second you're near me… your pulse matches mine. Your body craves what I crave… And if I kiss you now—" He pulls back just enough to meet her eyes—gold reflecting gold in the dim light. "—that fire between your legs? That ache? It won't be yours alone anymore." His thumb grazes the edge of her jaw, voice breaking: "It'll be ours."
Aria slide her hands over Derek's torso, wishing it could have been shirtless. Her eyes not once trailing away from Derek's.
He growls softly as her hands slide across him, the heat of her touch leaving a trail across his skin even through his clothes. His fingers twitch at her side, gripping the fabric of her top as if to keep himself from ripping it off himself. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares down at her—and when he speaks again, it's almost a question: "You really want this?"
"Do you really want to deny me?" Aria counters.
"Never." Derek's hand finally brushes against her hip—a barely-there touch—and the feel of her under his fingers almost makes him moan. His eyes burn like molten gold as he stares into hers, his voice ragged: "I want you. All of you. Every inch."
His fingers dig into her hip, pulling her flush against him. His body is already hard underneath his jeans, straining against the zipper. "Every breath. Every thought. Mine."
Completely paralyzed in the moment, she took hold of his shirt and lifted it over Derek's head.
As soon as the shirt hits the ground, his hands are on her. His palms slide over her hips, fingers curling into her waist, pulling her flush against his body once again. He moans as her body molds to his—the way he wanted—skin against skin, the heat of her setting his nerve endings ablaze.
Jesus…
He buries his face against her hair, breathing in her scent.
"You. Feel. So. Goddamn. Good." He punctuates each word with a kiss to her neck, her shoulder, the slope of her shoulder blade—tending to his favorite spots in a woman, worshiping her like she's a goddess. Until finally his mouth feverishly claimed hers.
The kiss is nothing like either of them expected—fierce, desperate, all teeth and tongue and need. It's not gentle. It's not careful.
It's claiming.
Derek groans into her mouth as their lips crush even harder together—he can feel the Anima Cantat flaring to life between them, pulsing in time with their racing hearts. The bond surges, electric and raw.
He backs her against the wall, breaking the kiss only for a breath—only long enough to growl: "Mine." And then he's on her again. One hand tangles in her hair—holding her head just where he wants it—as the other drags down over skin until it finds its way beneath the hem of her shirt.
Aria arches into him, gasping as his fingers brush bare flesh, "Derek…!" He doesn't slow.
Can't.
Won't.
Because this moment? This fire? It stopped being about control hours ago. Now it's about surrender… and finally giving in to what they were always meant to be.