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The Price of Betrayal

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Peter let out a low whimper as his Alpha handed him over to the Fae Trader, the rest of the Pack ignoring his terror. Scott gave a complacent smile, “And that concludes our negotiations?”

“Indeed.” The Fae gave a savage smile, “We will maintain our side of the deal.”

‘What deal? He literally just said he’d give me to them if they left.’ A branch cracked to one side, and the clearing full of supernatural creatures snapped their heads to one side to see a figure bristling with rage. ‘Stiles? He’s supposed to be at College.’

“What the ever-loving fuck Scott?” Amber eyes lit up in fury as he took in the sight before him, Peter relaxing as he caught the scent of the one Pack member he trusted. “I leave and you trade a Pack member to the fucking Fae?”

Scott shook his head, “It’s just Peter. We need their alliance…”

Stiles gave a bitter laugh, “Beacon Hills is under the protection of the Court of Seasons.” Peter cocked his head at that, confused as the Fae holding him tensed and started to smell of fear. “Harming even one of those that dwell here is grounds for their intervention. They couldn’t hurt the Pack if they tried.” He sneered, waving dismissively to the trio of nervous Fae, before fixing Scott with a glare that made even Peter’s twisted wolf want to submit, “Congratulations. You really fucked this one up.”

Lydia tensed, flicking her gaze from Stiles to the wary stance of the Fae, “Scott…”

“It’s not like that Stiles!” He frowned, “And if this Court thing were protecting Beacon Hills I’d know.”

Stiles arched an eyebrow, pacing in a circle, ‘til he stood before the Fae, “Give him to me.”

“B-but.” The Head Trader swallowed, and straightened his posture, “He was granted to us in good faith.”

Stiles gave a bitter laugh, giving Peter a reassuring look, “He was never theirs to give. He died at the hands of his kin and was returned with the blessing of Autumn.” He smirked, “He is mine.” His posture shifted, straightening as he took a step forward with inhumanly fluid grace, letting the power within him flow to the surface. “Give him to me.” He glared though eyes leaking golden light, Peter gaping as the scent of pumpkin and falling leaves leaked from the supposed mortal.

The Fae paled as one and Peter was tossed sprawling at the Fae Lord’s feet, “Lord Autumn, we thought…”

“I know what you thought.” Autumn gave them a dismissive look, “My siblings and I sowed the seeds we wished to sow.” He held out a hand to Peter and eased him to his feet, before turning to glare at the McCall pack, the Fae knowing better than to attempt to flee, and the ‘wolves still not realising what he was.

 

“Stiles? What’s going on?”

Autumn laughed, low and bitter, “What’s going on is a breaking of the Treaty, Alpha McCall.” He rolled his shoulders, the weight of his power rippling down his form and transforming his ratty sweats and snarky t-shirt into a robe of darkened gold, a copper crown of fall leaves shimmering into existence upon his brow, “I, the Lord of Autumn do hereby strip the protection of my Family’s Court from the supernatural citizens of Beacon Hills due to the charge of betrayal of trust. Exempted from this ruling are the remaining members of the House of Hale, since they at least are capable of maintaining the Oaths sworn by their Line.” He smirked, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning to face him, “Derek rang to let me know what was happening as soon as he heard.”

Peter swallowed, “And Malia, My Lord?”

“No Titles from you Peter.” He smirked, “You’re a friend.” Stiles laughed lightly, shining briefly within the eyes of the Lord of Autumn, “Malia and Derek are currently under Winter’s protection. Apparently she finds their arseholiness adorable.”

‘What?’

Scott snarled, “Get away from him Peter.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry Stiles, we’ll save you.” He threw himself forward, only to find his path blocked by a shield of shimmering gold light stretching across the clearing.

Autumn hesitated for a moment, turning to the Fae behind him, “Leave. Be quick about it and you might even outrun Spring.” The Fae blanched and darted off without a word.

Peter arched a brow, more confident now that he knew Stiles was still within this strange Fae Lord, “And why are they so afraid?”

Autumn chuckled, giving a savage smile, “I might have the reputation for the most vengeful of my siblings, but Spring has a special hatred for slavers.” He paused, “And betrayers fall under Winter’s pet peeves…” He cocked his head, “I almost feel we should leave this lot for her to deal with.”

 


 

A high-pitched laugh echoed from high in a tree at the side of the clearing, and a child flipped out of the branches, it wasn’t until they saw her face, and the same eldritch beauty that now glowed from within Stiles’ own face, that Lydia realised another of his ilk were joining them, “I would advise against that Brother.”

“And why is that Spring?”

The child laughed again, sending a chill skittering along the skin of those Pack members who believed what Stiles’ was revealing, “Because she’s currently flaying Deaton with her tongue…” A cold smile spread across plush lips, “…something about the lack of wards around the Hale Packhouse.”

Peter gave a savage smile of his own at that, “And why is it your kin didn’t arrive then?”

Lydia winced, the seriousness of their situation starting to sink in, and began to motion to Jackson that they should leave, Scott still throwing himself at the barrier with the rest of his more loyal Pack members, as Stiles replied. “Because we weren’t invited.” He gave Peter a sad smile, “The Deal stated that the territory of Beacon Hills would belong to the Hale Pack to protect as custodians, and that as long as they maintained their status, we would not interfere, only aid when requested. Upon the destruction of the majority of the Hale Pack and the departure of your Alpha, the decision was made to put me in place of a child killed by their own mother.” He gave a graceful shrug, “I was to watch over the territory until such a time as an Alpha claimed the territory with the support of one or more of the remaining Hales, at which time the decision of whether or not to remain was left to me, but I could not act as per my true status until such a time the revelation became necessary.” He turned and glared at the ‘wolves before them, who had now realised they were enclosed in a circular barrier, “Scott just made it necessary.”

Spring stepped up beside her brother and Peter, “Decisions Brother?”

He smirked, “Peter?”

“Well Scott has been complaining since I bit him that he wanted to be human again… Lydia too.”

Lydia paled, slumped against the barrier at the far side of the clearing, “No…”

 


 

Autumn let out a cold chuckle, “Oh, yes.” He turned to his sister, “I think they’ve had enough of a head start, don’t you?” She let out a tinkling laugh, and disappeared in a gust of cool wind smelling strongly of petrichor and fresh grass.

“Can you do that?”

Autumn shrugged, smiling at his potential Guard, “Me? No.” ‘I knew Peter was a good investment.’

“Then what are you going to do?”

“We Peter. We.” He gave a broad smile, as he caught the scent of fear from the Pack contained before them, “Grandfather is more than capable of dealing with them… after all, the Court of Seasons is more properly termed the Wild Court.” He took a deep breath and unfurled a fist in the air before them, a golden glow blossoming on his palm and darting off as a will-o’-the-wisp, “He’ll be here shortly.” He flicked his hand, magicking a pair of lounge chairs for the two of them, and sprawling back, a can of coke in his hand, “Join me?” Peter huffed a laugh and did as asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn as it was offered, joining him in watching the increasingly desperate escape attempts of his former tormentors.

 


 

Fáelán stepped out of the portal, already leery of what had caused three of his more irrepressible adoptive grandchildren such amusement that he could feel the ripples from the Fae Realm, “Autumn.” He stared amused at the sight of a Fae Prince sprawled like a mundane teenager watching a more fascinating movie, one of his own distant descendants sprawled out beside him.

“Grandfather.” Autumn beamed up at him, “So good to see you.” Fáelán just arched a brow and waited for the explanation. Autumn dropped the smile, his face going as blank as Winter’s usually was as he rose to his feet, the ‘wolf at his side, “They attempted to give Peter here to slavers.”

Fáelán’s blood ran cold, “I see.” He gave a cruel smile, “And have we decided on appropriate punishment?”

The ‘wolf met his look with a matching one of his own, “Your grandson suggesting stripping them of their gifts… though I would advise a different punishment for the Hunter.”

Fáelán smiled genuinely, impressed with his grandson’s choice, “Perhaps making him what his ilk hate most?” He paused, flicking his gaze from the ‘wolf to his grandson and back, before making a snap decision and gripping the ‘wolf’s face in his hand.

 


 

Peter yelped in pain, writhing in the unrelenting grip of the Fae King, finally collapsing to the ground as he was released, rising to his feet, a snarl on his lips, only to be confronted with a mirror… his eyes glowing red within. He gaped as the other gave him a small smile, “Keep Autumn safe, will you? He tends to attract odd situations.”

“Oi!”

“Scylla.”

“Fair point.” Autumn subsided with a pout.