The infamous Beacon Hill High School Library. Even after fifteen years, Evaine would never get used to all these locations of this reality. Two floors of rows upon rows of pure resources, from so many different kinds of topics — some she swore would never usually be found in the normal Dewey Decimal System. Just last week, as she was looking for the initial-graffiti shelf, she found a very familiar, dusty, old book on mythology, specifically Hellhounds and Ghost Riders. She could have sworn it was the same book Lydia found at the end of the first half of Season Five. With a smile, she wrote a little note — a warning — and tucked it in between the pages, right next to the image of the Ghost Riders.

But right now, there are no troubles. No kanima, Alpha packs, Ghost Riders or Wild Hunt.

It was almost time for their finales, and everybody's cramming those textbooks like mad. There was a stark difference between the American and British education system, especially when it came to their High Schools. Apart from spreading out the curriculum throughout the entire three-years more sparsely and taking SATs on the weekends, it wasn't hard to adapt… if only the SATs didn't feel like an IQ test for Mensa. From what she seen in the example exam papers, she could barely make a connection between what the teachers taught them in class and the actual content of the exams. Guess they're more about applying their knowledge rather than recalling.

Feeling overwhelmed by her History essay, Evaine let her pen clattered mutely against the pages of her exercise book, shaking out the sharp ache in her hand. She leaned against Derek, sat beside her. His pen danced across the line paper in a flurry as he rushed to finish off his English essay.

"How's the English paper going?"

He rested his head against hers but didn't stop writing. "Not too bad, just another two paragraph, the conclusion, and I'm done."

She grimaced, "Knowles' not really my cup of tea." Derek shot her a look, knowing what she did then. "Give me Homer and Shakespeare any day. I can never bring myself to be interested in fiction about the World Wars or political BS. "

"I betcha you finished your paper on The Odyssey during the weekend."

She arched a brow, lightly bumping him with her shoulder, "Derek, you should know me by now. I finished that paper the week we got it."

"Well, some of us were busy with basketball practice."

"Recitals," She shot back.

He chuckled, amused by how his girl always had a comeback, "Not all of us are as organized as you are Evaine."

"You mean, if your friends hadn't insisted on a 'guys' night out,'" she quoted with her fingers, "even though you just had one after the game last week. If you had said no, then you wouldn't be rushing to get this written, edited and proofread for tomorrow."

Derek opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it. He knew there was no point. She was right. As much as he liked his friends, he had grown bored halfway through the night, wanting more than anything to celebrate his win with Evaine at their favorite café while working on their papers. God, when did he become such a sap?

"Hey, how do you feel about coming over to my place… tomorrow." Evaine proposed, running her fingers through her hair.

He frowned in confusion. "Not that I wouldn't want to, but why do I feel like there's a catch?"

"Because there always is."

Derek quirked a brow, waiting for her to carry on.

She cleared her throat, earning an estranged gaze from the stern librarian that reminded them a little too much of Madame Pince. "My parents want to meet you."

Derek's pen fell out of his hand, rolling off his pad, letting the sentence die in his head as he slowly turned to face his girlfriend. "T-They want to meet me?"

She hummed, "Well, we have been dating for about three months… my Mum thought it was high time you came over for dinner."

"Your — your Mum?"

"Well…" she cocked her head to the side, "Dad too, but it's fine if you're busy tomorrow—"

"No, no, no, no. Tomorrow is fine." He gulped back a lump in his throat as his heart thumped away at 90mph. "So… what are we having for dinner?"

"My parents are vegans so they're making vegan steaks," Evaine said with a shrug. The werewolf felt his heart and stomach plummet into the ground, feeling himself grow pale and clammy at the thought of it.

She blinked owlishly at him, for a few seconds before barking out in laughter, which she silenced with a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God," her entire body spasm in silent laughter, as she bent over and hid in her arms.

"Y-You," he sputtered indignantly. "How could you?"

"Oh wow," Evaine sniffed, wiping away the tears gathered at the edge of her eyes. "You should've seen the look on your face! Priceless."

"I can't believe you did that."

"For a moment there, you looked like you were about to drop dead on me."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Derek shot Evaine a glare, but it faltered at the scent of happiness drenched all over her.

"I swear, the steak will be 100% beef, and done the way you like it: medium rare." She took a look at her watch and showed it to him. With a sigh, they started packing up their belongings before the rest of the student body surged into the hallways. Arriving outside of their Algebra class, Evaine pecked Derek on the lips, pulling away with a content smile.

"Tomorrow, 7 o'clock. Don't be late."

"Dad, I swear to God if you're still cleaning your gun when he gets here—"

Her Dad, Ivan had his collection of guns, and a cleaning kit spread out on the living room table. He looked up from the disassembled parts with a grin that seemed innocent, but the mischief in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What, you know that gun maintenance is vital—"

"Yes, but not when my boyfriend is arriving in twenty minutes." Her Dad's overprotective nature exasperated Evaine, but there was nothing she could really do about it. It also doesn't help that Ivan was a Deputy at the Beacon Hill Sheriff Station.

Two years ago…

Evaine blinked once, twice, wondering for a split moment whether or not she was hallucinating. Standing on the front porch, was the familiar face of Sheriff Noah Stilinski along with Claudia, holding a baked tray with a tin-foil cover. Meatloaf? She blinked again. This was the last thing she expected when Dad said he had invited his partner and his family over for dinner.

Murphy's Law sucks.

"Hi, you must be Ivan's daughter, Paige?" Claudia said with a gentile smile.

She nodded stiffly, "Yeah," her voice broke a little, so she coughed in an attempt to clear the lump in her chest. "But I go by Evaine. I'm guessing you're my Dad's partner?"

"Nice to meet you Evaine," Sheriff Stilinski offered a hand, which Evaine took, feeling tinged with a sense of surreal. "I'm Deputy Noah Stilinski, this is my lovely wife, Claudia. And this little troublemaker here is my son, Stiles." He gestured to the little boy, hiding just out of sight, behind his mother.

Nervously peering at her with those whiskey-colored eyes, Evaine felt her heart melt a little. Flashes of a lanky, sarcastic, aluminum-bat wielding teenager and future FBI agent dashed behind her eyes. She bent down at her knees, so she was eye-level with him.

Cocking her head to the left, she gave him a soft smile. "Hi Stiles, that's a cool name."

He was wary of her, she could tell by that familiar suspicious pout of his lips and tick of his eye. Good. His cautious yet Gryffindor nature was what got Scott and the Beacon Hill pack through a majority of the problems. He looked up to his parents for help, but they simply encouraged him to say something.

"It's a family name," he finally mumbled, almost inaudible was it not for the fact that it was an extremely quiet night.

Evaine nodded, "Well, you look like a little Mischief Maker to me." Stiles practically lit up at the little nickname she gave him; she narrowed her eyes with a playful smirk. "Are you?"

Stiles looked like he wanted to give her a snarky reply, but was interrupted by her Mother, Vivian coming up behind her.

"Evaine, are you just going to let them stand out there on the porch?"

God, she'd never forget the day she met Mieczyslaw "Stiles" Stilinski, her little Mischief Maker who loved all things Star Wars and supernatural. After bestowing him that little nickname and showing him her movie collection, Stiles latched onto her like a barnacle, declaring her his unofficial big sister. Of course, it was no surprise when Scott McCall came along with his adorable, puppy brown eyes. They were a package deal. Evaine found it amusing that she had a hand in encouraging Stiles' insatiable curiosity for all things mysterious.

Since then, whenever Noah and Claudia were out on 'date night' and Melissa McCall couldn't take Stiles because of a shift, it fell onto her to babysit the future True Alpha and ex-Nogitsune.

She wondered how teenage Derek would react to the two, cheeky and innately curious six-years-old. She'd seen how teenage Derek and Stiles interacted when he was temporary reverted back to his fifteen-years-old self — Miguel. God she'd never not find that funny, especially that scene with Danny. Stiles, the human who managed to survive insane, power-crazed Alphas, kanima, Darach and possession by the Nogitsune, couldn't tell a better lie to Scott's Dad. He was lucky that Derek actually spoke Spanish.

"I think it's mandatory for me to pull the shovel talk." Ivan grinned as he cleaned the barrel of the gun.

"Dad!"

"Ivan, leave your guns alone and help me with the salad," Vivian yelled from the kitchen.

Evaine quirked a brow with a hint of a smug grin. "Ooo, her indoors," she quoted, although, not that they knew that. It would be about seven years before anyone know where that came from.

Ivan gestured to his eyes, then to her with two fingers before making his way into the kitchen. Evaine glanced over to the table and grimaced.

Derek fixed the collar on his shirt and his cuffs, again. His heart shouldn't be pounding away harder than a jack-rabbit's. His hands shouldn't be clammy or shaking as he ran it through his hair.

Oh, who was he trying to kid? This was downright the most frightening thing he'd ever done in his life. Meeting his girl's parents was customary and standard considering how serious their relationship was, but God he never thought it would be this nerve wrecking.

It also didn't help that Ivan Krasikeva worked at the Sheriff station as a Deputy. Could've been worse. He could've been a Hunter. He cringed at the thought, the mere idea of them being star-crossed lovers destined for a double-suicide. No, that's not them. They are not the sappy Romeo and Juliet who couldn't see any other way to be together, other than in death.

Of course, he still hadn't found the courage to tell her about him being a werewolf, but he was certain that Evaine simply wouldn't care. She was the most open-minded person he had ever met, with an eccentric taste. She was always willing to see things from a different angle, just to make sure that she made the right judgement. Evaine would never walk into a conversation wearing rose-tinted glasses or ignorant. God, he still couldn't believe that she was his.

He hadn't told his mother about Evaine's tattoo; he found himself a tad possessive over that fact. The mere idea that she unwittingly marked herself at the nape of her neck. It practically screamed out to the supernatural world not only did she belong to the Hale Pack, but also that she was claimed.

His eyes flashed amber as a low, smug growl rumbled from his chest.

No, their story will not end with a tragedy.

Not if he had anything to do about it.

Knock, knock, knock.

"I got it!" Evaine shot up from the couch, running a hand through her hair as she headed for the door before her Dad could.

Standing on her porch, was an impeccably dressed Derek Hale, in a smart shirt, decent pair of jeans and holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers — sweetpeas and lilacs — with a nervous but loving smile.

"Hi," she greeted with a coy smile. "You got me flowers?"

Derek gave her a shrug of his shoulders and a smile. "Figured I should at least adhere to some traditions."

"Well, would you look at that?" Evaine chuckled under her breath, leaning against the doorway. "Derek Hale, a closet romantic," she accepted the bouquet and took a deep breath, drowning her senses in the flora.

"A girl could get used to this." She couldn't stop the bubbling feeling of unadulterated happiness coursing through her body. Her smile stretched across her face wide and pure, heart melting a little at the romantic gesture.

"Only for you, I've got a reputation to uphold." He smirked, closing the distance between them until Evaine felt the warmth radiating from his body.

"But of course," The umber-haired teenager rolled her eyes. "Can't let the guys at Beacon Hill know that their star basketball player is a softie at heart." She gave him a quick peck on the lips, deep and breathless before pulling him into the house.

The tension in the air choked Derek worse than anything the Hunters could've thrown at him as he chewed on his steak. Vivian, Evaine's mother, managed to keep the conversation flowing throughout dinner, but as the minutes went by, the young werewolf found it harder and harder to ignore the elephant in the room: Ivan Krasikeva.

After that breathtakingly short kiss, he stumbled into the house dazed and giddy, only to freeze at the sight of disassembled rifles and guns spread across the living room table. Evaine, noticing his distress, immediately apologized for her Dad's poor show of behavior, groaning "Told him to put them away."

For a split second, he had completely forgotten that Evaine was a Deputy's daughter. A Deputy who worked at the Sheriff station and had access to all kinds of guns and fun toys. Gulping, all he could do was steel his nerves and do his best to impress his girlfriend's parents.

God, the world had it out for him.

Just be charming and truthful as possible, He told himself.

With Evaine whispering encouragements and reassurances, he managed to get his head in the game and put on his best smile for the stern Deputy, who refused to greet him anything more than a stink eye.

Vivian reminded Derek a lot of his Mum — minus the whole supernatural conundrum — because one glare from her sent Ivan recoiling. Derek didn't miss the smirk on Evaine's face at the sight of her Dad bending to her Mum's will.

Looks like the Krasikeva had their own Alpha Female.

"So, any ideas what you might want to do after high school?" Ivan's firm voice snapped Derek out of his reverie.

He set his knife and fork down, wiped away any excess mess from his mouth and cleared his throat before answering.

"Well, I was actually thinking about studying architecture at Colombia University."

"Really?" Ivan asked, brows raised. "Aiming pretty high, that's the best college for architecture in the entire country." The skepticism laced in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"At least he has an idea Dad," Evaine sighed, "I still don't have a clue what I'm gonna do once I graduate from high school."

"I thought you were thinking about Julliard's?" Vivian said.

"Ms. Lee said I have a pretty good shot at the auditions, maybe even get a full scholarship, but I don't know if I can see myself playing the violin professionally." She admitted, "I prefer to play for leisure rather than for the sakes of academics. Although, I can't deny that studying music would be interesting."

Derek set his culinary down and turned to face Evaine, "So, do you have any ideas what you might do?"

"Be an English or Classics teacher? Maybe teach English as a foreign language abroad?" She paused, then her lips curled into a smirk, "Or maybe study veterinary science and take over for Deaton."

Tension melted away as laughter filled the air made by her bold statement.

Ivan shook his head, "Oh, you're thinking of conducting a hostile takeover over the animal clinic?"

"Moi, a hostile takeover?" Evaine gasped, peering up through her eyelashes, projecting an innocent air. "How could you say that of your own daughter?"

"We can say that because you are our daughter," Vivian grinned. "We know you too well."

"Well, it wouldn't be a hostile takeover," The violinist leaned back into the chair, resting a hand on Derek's thigh, "Deaton was the one who suggested the idea."

"Oh really?" Vivian shot her daughter a grin that was full of mischief, "And this has nothing to do with the little malamute-husky currently residing in the kennels?"

"Nope." Evaine popped the 'p' as she took a sip of water. "But it wouldn't hurt to let me bring him."

"A dog is a lot of work. Huskies and Malamutes need a lot of exercises and are pack animals so they can't stand being left alone for too long—"

"Mum," Evaine interrupted, "I know how much work it'll take to look after Mish. Deaton's just about given me every single information he has on Huskies, Malamutes and mix-breeds, and he was kind enough to give Mish a full checkup for free."

Her parents hummed their acknowledgements as they let the information sink in.

"We'll think about it."

Evaine leaned back in her chair with a big smile. "That's all I ask."

The happiness, delightful and playful banter between Evaine and her parents was infectious. He couldn't stop himself from smiling to the point where his cheeks were beginning to ache because of the smile that seemed permanently stretched across his face. But, it was a good kind of ache, the kind he wished never to stop feeling for the rest of his life.

Dinner ended on a pleasant note, despite Ivan's suspicious glares and subtle hints of 'hurt-my-daughter-and-I-will-make-sure-you'll-live-to-regret-that-decision-for-the-rest-of-your-life.' With Vivian and Evaine acting as buffers between the two males, Derek lived to see another day. But then came the thought of 'what now?' What do you usually do after having dinner with your girlfriend's parents?

Thankfully, that question was answered for him before he had a chance to make himself look like an idiot.

"Why don't you show Derek around," said Vivian with a mischievous glint in her eyes; Ivan went to protest, but falter under Vivian's glare, "Your Dad and I will clear up the dishes."

Evaine narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her parents as they communicate with their eyes. "Why, Mother dearest, you're acting odder than usual."

"Odd, moi?" Vivian gasped, "Why on earth would you think that?" She looked over to her scowling husband, "I'm not acting odd, am I?"

Evaine dragged Derek away before Ivan had a chance to reply, but clearly whatever he intended to say earned him a sound smack to the head.

Evaine pushed the white-oak door open with a smile, revealing a modest size room, with a trail of fairy lights hanging across the pale-green and cream walls. Her queen-sized bed faced the window that had been converted into an extra bed or sofa. A little reading nook, judging by the small bookshelf carved into the wall. But he noticed another bookshelf that took up an entire wall by itself, stuffed to the brim with leather-bound, hardback books at smelt old and weathered, with only a handful of freshly printed ones. Her violin had a shelf all to itself, cushioned by what he assumed were music scores on either side.

There were two doors within, he assumed that one led to her en-suite, but he couldn't resist taking a deep breath. God, her scent was everywhere. It went straight to his head, making him feel heady. Inevitably, he moaned.

Realizing what he had done, his eyes snapped wide open. Evaine gave him a quirk of her brow, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. He cleared his throat with a series of coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "So…"

"So, this is my room," Evaine said, throwing herself back onto her bed.

"It's very much you."

She buried herself into a pillow, but the mirth in her voice was unmistakable. "Well, I should hope so, it is mine."

"Shut up." Derek groaned, face in hand and sat down on the edge of her bed. God, her scent was turning him into an idiot.

He felt her weigh on his back as Evaine draped her arms over his shoulders, nuzzling into the back of his neck. He shivered as the small puffs of her breath danced across his skin.

"You, are a complete and utter sour-wolf."

"Sour-wolf? Am not." He shot back.

"I'm sorry, but you tend to brood… a lot."

"Well, I wouldn't be brooding so much if you weren't causing so much trouble."

Evaine gasped, "Trouble? Excuse me, but who was the one who stalked me for weeks after we first met? Very badly, might I add."

When he failed to provide an answer, the corner of her lips curled up into a smug-smirk. "I win."

He felt the urge to laugh — hysterically — at how at ease his girl was with his weird behavior. Anyone else would've turned into the Road Runner and ran in the other direction, never looking back. But not her. She called him out on his so-called stalking skills, has the gall to tell him to be stealthier. God, he must've been a saint in his past life to deserve such an accepting and loving girl such as her. Reaching out, he brushed aside a strand of hair that fell across her face, cradling her face in the palm of his hand as his thumb caressed the apples of her cheeks.

A comfortable silence fell over them. Derek couldn't find the words to describe the how his heart ached at the thought of losing her. He slowly maneuvered them so that he laid on his back, with Evaine snuggling into his chest with an arm around her waist.

"Can't see it."

"Can't see what?" Derek looked down his girlfriend whose eyes were fixed into the distance.

"You as an architect," she chuckled, "a civil engineer, perhaps, but an architect? I haven't seen you draw anything building or construction related."

"Well," he snorted, "you should see some of my stuff in the wood-shop. I think Mr. Geoffrey still use my birdhouse as an example."

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen it," Evaine hummed. "Yes, Mr. Geoffrey showed it to us as an example of what not to do when building a birdhouse."

He gasped, "Ah, that cheek of yours…"

A smile stretched across Evaine's face that spelled playful trouble, "Mhmm, and what are you planning to do about that?"

Derek stared down at his girl in silence with a serene smile on his face, "Nothing. I love you just the way you are, my violin girl."

Evaine's breath hitched in her throat as a look of disbelief crossed her face before a surge of unadulterated happiness danced across her amber-brown eyes.

"And you're my sour wolf." He couldn't stop himself from pouting, which elicited a soft chuckle from her, "Whatever happens Derek, promise me you'd never lose that smile of yours?"

Derek frowned, "Why would I ever stop smiling with you by my side?"

Something flickered across Evaine's eyes before her gaze met his, too quick for him to recognize what it was. She stared at him imploringly through her long lashes, "Well, it's not like you can be with me every single second of my life."

"I can try."

"That's a big promise to keep, sour-wolf," Evaine tilted her head to the left. "Plus, I think if my Dad heard that, he'd want to introduce you to his personal gun collection."

"I think I can endure your Dad's ire to keep that promise, Evaine," Derek said with a straight face with an intensity that sent shivers down her shine.

Evaine leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, a breathy laugh slips from her lips, "You were practically a 'deer-in-headlights' at the sight of my Dad."

"Were not," he protested.

"Were too," she retorted, "don't you get any ideas about sneaking in through my window now, you hear me?"

Derek hummed, his brain sparking with possibilities, "Hadn't thought about that, but thanks for the idea—"

Evaine's hand rested his chest, "Don't you dare."

"Look me in the eye, and tell me that sleeping with me is a bad idea."

"Oh, really?" Cocking her head back, she gave him a mischievous smirk, "Wanna give that another try, Romeo?"

Derek felt himself flush, realizing the implication of his words, "That sounded a lot better in my head." He leaned forward and hid his face in her neck, "God, don't I feel awkward."

"What? The thought of you sleeping in my bed or the thought of us having—"

He covered her mouth, muffling her next few words, "Yes." Derek answered, leaning forward until their foreheads met.

"Well," Evaine began, "I think it is safe to say that we're not hitting any home runs anytime soon." She shook her head, "No matter how much our hormones scream for it."

Derek smile morphed into a smirk full of impishness, arching his brows in a suggestive manner, "Oh really? They're screaming for it?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Please, their screams are as ear piercing as a banshee's."

"That loud, huh?"

"Also, let's not forget that my parents are downstairs."

"Good point," He nodded with mock forlorn, "your Dad's probably figured out how he's gonna kill me and where to bury the body, so no one will find me."

"Ye have a little faith, Derek," Evaine chuckled, "if he does, somehow, manage to get the drop on you… I'll be very disappointed that you didn't keep your promise to me…" Her voice trailed off into a whisper with a gulp.

Derek could taste the worry rolling off from her in waves, so he pulled her back down, eliminating the space between them and wrapping his arms around her form. Resting her head on his chest, he ran his fingers through her umber-colored hair.

He wondered if she took his words seriously, because he meant them, every single word. Honestly, Derek should feel a little overwhelmed and frightened by just how easy it was to promise her, but all he could feel was how right it was and a sense of completion.

Nothing else mattered, so long as Evaine was happy, safe… by his side.

Author's Note:

I am so sorry that you waited five months for this chapter. Things got a little hectic over the summer holidays.

So, I'm now in my final year and currently beginning the process of applying for my MA degree, which has been stressful trying to write up individual personal statements for each university and finding the necessary documents and whatnot. There is also my dissertation that's currently in the works too.

It just suddenly hit me with how much I set myself to do, which resulted in a little meltdown so I took a break from everything. I'm mostly back now, since lectures start in two days but never think that I'll abandon this fanfic. I have big plans for Evaine and she's going to have quite a life ahead of her (take it how you will)

Although, on the plus side, I was lucky enough to be chosen to watch RADA and Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet, starring Tom Hiddleston. Since I'm still under 25, the tickets were a steal and it is the highlight of the month. He is as amazing and brilliant as I'd imagined him to be. A fantastic blend between tragedy and comedic elements, proving that Hamlet's madness is perfectly carved and created for the purpose of avenging his father.

I'm 800 words into the next chapter. I don't quite know when the next chapter will be posted, but definitely before the end of this year that's for sure.

Thanks for sticking with me,

I hope you enjoyed this chapter

Don't forget to review and favorite/follow~

Nyxie

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