Hellooooo. *Hides behind Derek as you all throw tomatoes* I know I'm super duper late, like 7 months late, and I'm a lousy updater buuuut, I bring you 3300 words of arterek goodness. So forgive me and enjoy as this story takes a turn to the AU side of life.

ALSO, TITLE CHANGE! DO YOU LIKE IT, THE NEW TITLE, Ashes?

Alsoooo, note: if you haven't read Arranged to be Mates: Christmas Special I suggest you do. And if you don't wanna, well, Brad, Artemis' little bro is in Beacon Hill. So, yeah, I had to remind you of that :)

And I'd recommend rereading the last chapter, to refresh your memories, because, you know, it's been 7 months...

And without further ado, ATBM Chapter 23

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise
You're spilling like an overflowing sink
You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece
And now I'm tearing through the pages and the ink

^these lines are Arty's dedication to Der

She was in the woods

Standing, bare foot and dressed in SpongeBob PJs, in the midst of dense copses of tree. It appeared to be the brink of dawn, with light spurting over the tree tops and filtering through the leaves, before dimly illuminating the path before her.

Better than standing idly, Artemis decided to get out. She couldn't be bothered to know how the hell she got to the woods in the first place, so instead preoccupied her brain with matters of more concern; in this case, getting back to her bed.

She trudged along sleepily, ramming into a tree, or two, in the process, but managed to make it as far as a small stream,

"Wait a minute."

She just walked deeper into the woods.

"Dammit." Now agitated and overcome with sleepiness, her frustration began to take color. Getting home to hell, she's gonna find a place around here somewhere to sleep.

But deeper into the woods she went, until she actually made it to a manor, standing bright and large in a big clearing, surrounded by fruit trees and a stretch of lawn. Yawning she stumbled in and on reflex, Artemis floated past everything and climbed up the stairs in a breeze. Instinctively entering the first room to the right, Artemis planted herself face first on the mattress and was 100% prepared to die immediately.

5 minutes passed of Artemis adjusting herself on the bed, before she found the position, and soon she was still, slowly sinking into a slumber.

Seconds passed.

Artemis shot up in her bed, all traces of sleep long gone. Her wide eyes quickly scanned the room.

This is her room. Her old room.

And in a second she leapt out of the room and was racing down the stairs.

The kitchen was the same, just as was her room, with every utensil in perfect place. The view of the garden from the kitchen window looked the same, with the exact same arrangement of plantations, through and through.

Now Artemis was panicking.

Where the hell was she?

Well, she knew where she was, but was she asleep? Dreaming? Or hallucinating? Or-or, time travelling?

She shook her head in attempt to dissolve the absurd thoughts, and moved through the house- sifting through bill and mail on the table, paintings on the walls, photographs that were lost in the fire.

She caught herself just as she saw her family portrait, with Mary Lowe on the stool, little Lucas in her lap, and Artemis, in all the grace that her 12 year old body possessed, standing next to her mother.

She traced their faces with her fingertip, but soon dropped her hand, letting go, something she had learned to do a long time ago.

She turned to move back to the kitchen, but caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror that stood at the door of the drawing room.

Her heart stopped beating.

She was no longer in her PJs, but now stood in what was definitely a dress- a wedding dress.

Her heart restarted, pounding at 1000 beats per second.

Her hair was looped up loosely, strands unraveling, their tips brushing her collar bones. From her collar bones then began the sheer, lace neckline, which travelled all the way down her breast bone before the sweet heart neckline solidified beneath it. The same sheer lace then extended down, over the many layers of silk and satin, and also made her sleeves.

The most beautiful part was probably the floral patterns embroidered in the lace, that gleamed in the dim light.

She looked pretty.

Very, very, very pretty.

But now she was panicking more.

Because it wasn't only her, but the house's interior, reflecting in the mirror was no longer grand and beautiful, but was now charred and burnt.

She looked down, tears prickling in her eyes, and almost had a heart attack when she realized that she wasn't imagining the reflection in the mirror, but was actually wearing the God forsaken dress.

"Holy shit," whipped around, and true to the reflection in the mirror, now stood in the heart of the charred interior of the Hale House.

In a wedding dress…

She stood there for a while, hyperventilating, before she dashed to the kitchen and emptied her stomach contents in the sink.

"Ew, ew ew," She muttered, as she watched her hands, careful not to get water, or any other undesirable substance on her dress.

Once she stood back she was, honestly, so confused.

Her head started pounding immediately.

Kneading her temples, she trips on the many skirts of her dress and stumbles towards the exit, wanting to wake up from her dream already.

Bursting out the door she expects to be in the woods. Technically she was in the woods, but she swears itwasn't like this when she came here minutes ago.

It was decorated with lights looped into the tree branches, with tables scattered about. Wildflower arrangements on tables and some of the most beautiful wildflowers she'd ever seen crowned the altar. But then she saw who stood at the altar, she couldn't say the beauty of it ended (how could she), but she could definitely say her heart stopped functioning the same.

Derek.

Okay, brain, this is about the time when you wake me up.

And at the base of the stairs to altar was the carpet that rolled all the way- all the way to her feet.

She was at the other end of the carpet.

Shit. Okay brain, just about now.

Her heart just sped faster. And her brain refused to comply

Suddenly, someone hooked their arm in hers and she leapt to heights she didn't know she could.

Brad, looking dapper as hell, leaned in, all smiles and rainbows, "Not having cold feet are you?"

Wide eyed and definitely losing her mind, she gulped, and whispered harshly, "No Brad, this isn't real. I'm dreaming. Pinch me."

Brad just raised a light brow and grinned, "No Artemis, not a dream. You're living that life. You're marrying your mate! Not dreaming."

"My what?"

Brad rolled his eyes and with a forceful tug, began pulling her down the aisle. She resisted, by since a bride isn't supposed to resist, so she gave in.

"Brad," She clutched onto his arm tightly, "Pinch me please"

Brad laughed, and complied. Expecting the small jolt of pain she closed her eyes.

She reopened them.

Still walking down an aisle.

Oh dear, she's getting closer.

She had been hyperventilating, tuning out the muted chatter and music, but now they were silent, and all she could here was her heartbeat.

And then she was close enough to see his features. Eyes brighter than she'd seen in a long time, a smile she hadn't witness in years, and a beauty infinite.

He looked happy.

She suddenly developed a small, very very small, liking for this dream, and her heart developed a faster beat.

She looked away, because the nervous smile he was flashing her scared the hell out of her. Probably because it makes her stomach feel funny and she was having none of that.

"Brad please, wake me up now,"

"Honestly lady, you're almost at the altar, you ain't dreaming this shit. You've already tattooed his name on your arm, so there's no going back." He nudged at her forearm, from where under her lace sleeve, she could see the word Derek etched in ink, in a really old aged cursive font.

Now she was sure she was dreaming, because 1) she'd never ever get anyone's named tattooed on her, not even Brads, okay maybe Brad's but no one else, and 2) even if she did, it would never be in that font.

They were at the stairs, and in her panic, she sort of scrambled up the step, letting go of Brad easily, and being Artemis, she tripped on her skirts and fell.

Face first.

Anticipating the pain she closed her eyes.

It never came.

She opened her eyes to find herself in her bed, safe and far away from that nightmare.

Sitting up she gulped in air hungrily, and fanned her burning face. The sweat glistened on her skin and she threw off her sheets in attempt to cool herself.

"Had a bad dream?"

Her scream was muffled as she toppled down the side of her bed in surprise.

Legs hitched up against the side of the bed with her upper body on the floor, tangled in the comforter, she glared at the figure concealed in the corner.

"Stop doing that, okay. That is extremely creepy, even for you."

Derek just raised an eyebrow.

Ignoring him, and her brain's need to remind her of the weird dream, she gathers the comforter with difficulty and dumps it on the bed, "Why the hell are you here? And if you say it's because 'you like watching me sleep' I swear to God- just stop going all Edward Cullen on me okay?"

Derek looked offended, like genuinely offended.

"I wanted to tell you Brad's settles in. And I do not act like Edward Cullen."

Artemis paused, looking at him long and hard.

"This is proof that you do." She retorted, relived to hear Brad was comfortable.

Nostrils flared Derek glared harshly, "I was not watching you sleep, and nor do I like to. You sleep like an animal."

"Oh, you big charmer, you." Artemis gushed sarcastically, "You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

He continued glaring from where he stood and Artemis began setting her bed so she could fall right back on it and sleep, but just then she caught glimpse of the digital clock beside her bed.

"What the hell, Derek! It's 2:30 in the morning."

He just hushes her and glares pointedly at the door.

"Okay, that's enough," she mutters, knowing well that he can hear her, as she snuggles into the sheets, "Go home, Hale."

Without any answer, he makes his way to the other side of her bed and begins removing his jacket, then his shoes. He rips off his socks and throws his legs over the side and gets comfortable on her bed.

"What the heck are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"No," Artemis whined, pulling the sheets off him, "Sleep at your own place,"

"Too far." He pulled the sheets back over him.

Huffing Artemis turned the other way and closed her eyes, falling asleep, back into a dreamscape of a wedding so unrealistic it was funny.

Artemis woke up in a tangle of sheets. She immediately looked around to see if Derek was still here, but obviously he wasn't.

She groggily moves out of bed, dragging herself towards the bathroom, but just as she's about to turn the knob, she hears water running inside.

Eyebrows scrunched she puts her ear against the door, and in moments, the door swings open, Artemis almost stumbling inside, but she's saved by a much chiseled chest.

"You're still here."

Derek just starts at her with eyebrows hitched high on his forehead.

She then realizes he has apparently washed a large portion of his shirt.

She points it out.

Derek looks down at the stain and then back at her, "You drooled all over me."

It was expected that she'd be at least embarrassed, but nuh un, Artemis just shrugs and smiles unapologetically, "Nobody was begging you to sleep over."

She pushes past him, into the bathroom, and begins to wash up.

Half way through lathering her face with soap, Artemis realizes Derek's still standing there. She slowly turns her head, staring at him through squinted eyes, since she has soap everywhere, "Wot?"

He just shook his head and continued drying his shirt with a bloody towel.

Having rinsed her face Artemis stepped out and snatched the towel from his hands, "You look like an absolute moron doing that. Has living alone so long taught you nothing?"

Derek just blinked at her slowly.

"I don't have a spare shirt, or a portable drier."

Rolling her eyes, she stalked towards her suitcase, rummaged through it, before pulling out an olive Henley and tossing it to him.

"There, wear that. I want it back though."

Derek snatches it out of the air, and after checking the tag, raises an eyebrow at her.

"What?" Says Artemis defensively, "Men shirts make awesome night suits."

Derek just rolled his eyes and pulled off the wet shirt. Art turned around just in time and began making her bed lazily.

Once she was done, she turned, grateful to see a fully clothed Derek, because after that dream, seeing Derek in any other form may be bad for her health.

"Breakfast?"

Derek nodded, but turned to her with a parted mouth. Then he closed it and looked away.

"Wanna say something?"

Derek stared at her unnervingly for a moment, before he blinked and said, "We're going to the hotel today."

"Yeah, I know. I've already packed, as you know."

Derek nodded stiffly, fumbling with his shirt a little.

He was nervous.

Smirking, Artemis shot him a look, "Nervous?"

Derek glared at her before marching out the room and down to the kitchen.

Smiling to herself Artemis followed, looking forward to their stay at Beacon Lodgings.

Derek was late.

They had planned to meet up at the reception of Beacon Lodgings at 4:00 pm sharp, but Derek was yet to show.

They had it all mapped out. With Peter's help and their own preexisting depraved nature, the three former best friends managed to draw up a clear, almost mathematical plan. Well, it began with mathematical accuracy but required them to steer the free flow of events in a direction that would allow them to observe Gerard much more closely- and that part was something they had to do as events unfolded.

It was simple. Artemis played the oblivious, amiable and rather talkative (read: babbling baboon) fiancé of the brooding, broken, secret (not-so-secret) werewolf, Derek Hale, who has brought his oblivious fiancé to a get-away trip to the hotel, away from crazy homicidal lizards.

Gerard, being an Argent and all, would take immediate interest in her, and when he came up with a clean history, would try to learn as much as he could about the new Hale Heiress.

Derek would feign his dislike with their interaction (not hard at all), which would confirm the whole oblivious-of-the-supernatural thing. Plus Derek might threaten him for real too, a thought that had made Derek actually crack a smile.

Artemis would spill some random shit about her trip to Ireland to meet her grandparents and they'll become fast friends. Then Art just has to ask a few personal questions and all will be well.

But for all of that to happen, Derek needed to be there. But he was yet to show.

Artemis sat on the counter of bar in the reception of Beacon Lodgings, tapping her manicured, black painted nails on the counter top rhythmically. She came dressed to impressed, obvious from her black designer stilettos, grey cigarette trousers, a loose sleeveless blouse with a deep V-neck, that looked sexy, yet modestly covered all the important things, and the oversized grey coat paired with the watch and bracelets that adorned her wrists.

She had been sitting there for a solid hour and a half, swinging her feet and tapping her nails irritably. She looked rich and stunning so that obviously got her some looks, but her uninterested, bored looks kept most people at bay and left her unbothered.

But with the passage of time, her bored, uninterested looks became glares and irritated sighs.

She was going to kill him.

Derek was late.

Firstly, he woke up late, by falling off his mattress.

Then, he had to run to get breakfast, where the cashier recognized him as a criminal and called the cops on him. It took a good 40 minutes to make them realize that he was cleared of all charges.

Then, Erica wolfed out seconds after Derek packed the car with his bags and was about to leave for the hotel. She missed school, which prompted Scott to show up to ask if everything was okay.

After she was subdued, Derek glanced at his watch and in the panic of realizing he was an hour and a half late, ditched his car completely and took off towards the hotel- on foot.

He's there in a matter of minutes, barreling inside the hotel, for once in his life, actually out of breath.

He spots her immediately. She's sitting at the bar, at the far end of the reception area- black heels tapping the floor, fingers tapping on the counter, lips pursed, glaring off into the distance. Not talking to anyone.

That's how he knew she was mad.

She wasn't talking; she wasn't giving off amiable vibes. Instead she came off as cold and closed off- uninterested and bored.

Like he always did.

Artemis rarely ever not talked to people in a public place.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't even a little bit scared now.

He rushes over to her and when he's finally standing in front of her, with the closest thing to a sheepish expression he can muster, she looks up at him in a bored manner and downs the rest of the contents of her drink.

She gets up, "Ready to go?"

He's about to nod just as she furrows her brow and moves to fix the collar of his shirt, before smoothing out the rest of his crumpled shirt. She then sees his windblown hair and says, "It's like you ran all the way here."

Derek didn't meet her eye.

"Figures," she grumbled, trying to fix his hair but, failing, pulled away and dragged him towards the check in.

"Why didn't you check in yourself? You could've gotten a room a waited there."

Artemis gave him a look, "I didn't have your credit card and I wasn't going to pay for an expensive ass room with my money."

Derek just raised his eyebrow at her.

"What?" she asks indignantly, glaring at him, "this was your uncle's idea. Your uncle's- not mine. You share his blood, you pay."

Derek just stares at her for a good 3 minutes.

Artemis sighed, "It's expensive."

His nostrils flare as he rolls his eyes in exasperation, "Let's just get going."

They both checked in, making sure they got a room in lane B, the same as Gerard, and grabbed the luggage before making their way up together.

It was on their way up, in an elevator together, when Derek finally got his bearings back. He took in his surroundings. He took in the people. He took in Artemis.

She was looking great- as usual, but more made up and put together, in semi formal attire. Her makeup was impeccable. She looked bronzed yet had radiance to her. And her bright lipstick complimented everything. She looked pretty.

She also smelled pretty- as in smelled good. Her perfume wasn't overbearing to his sensitive nose and the smell of her body wash, shampoo and deodorant well went together. And there was something else, a warm, earthy smell, which he couldn't quite place.

In his passion to find what the smell was, Derek was leaning it towards her neck, inhaling deeply, obviously smelling her.

Upon the feeling of his warm breath, Artemis jerked away, shooting him an incredulous look as she did.

"What the hell, bro?"

Derek's ears immediately turned red.

"Uh- you smell nice?" He replied, looking worried.

Brow furrowed and nose scrunched Artemis looks ready to retort, but just as she opens her mouth, the elevator door dings open and they are forced to scurry out quickly.

Saved by the effing bell.

Derek takes a breath of relief and follows Artemis out, knowing that on this stay, this was probably just the beginning of weirdness.

*Guys, the reason I'm so inactive here recently is because I'm co writing a novel on Wattpad with my friend! It's a contemporary adaptation of Beauty and the Beast. Daniel Sharman is the Beast so there's that, but I would love for all you to check it out. It's called Beauty and the Beast by motherchuckercara. That's my friend, we post it on her account but I'm queenofthewildsouls. Follow me and read my new novel, it's awesome, but I'm biased, but I would appreciate it so much if you loves checked it out and let me know in either wattpad inbox, PM or just comment here!

Reviews are my brand of crack, so please. Reviewing really helps me write faster. If you are all still interested in this story and don't want me to delete it (which I am tots considering) please review!

xx loves

Wattpad ID: queenofthewildsouls