As Stiles Stlinski walked through the woods, he knew he was lost. He'd been walking for over an hour and all he saw was dark and looming trees on every side.

Whenever Stiles had to walk home from school, he always went around the woods. It creeped him out that he felt as though someone-or something-was watching him when he passed. But today he was running late and it was getting dark, so he thought he would cut through the woods to get to his house.

Stiles pulled his red hood over his head nervously as he hurried along. The branches above him rustled ominously and every little noise made the teen jump.

Then he heard growling behind him and his heart stopped. He turned around slowly and came face-to-face with what looked like a grizzly bear. Wait, he thought suddenly, there aren't any grizzlies in California. Then he realized he was staring at a giant wolf. Red eyes flashed in the dark and Stiles spun around, sprinting away as fast as he could.

The beast caught up with him easily and smashed him into a tree, slashing at his arm. He cried out before crumpling to the ground, blood staining his hoodie a darker shade of red. As the world went black, Stiles knew he was going to die.

Stiles opened his eyes slowly. His arm and back burned with pain and the dark forest around him was a fuzzy blur.

He tried to focus on what looked like a man wrestling with the monstrous wolf, but something heavy slammed into his arm and he blacked out again.

When Stiles finally came to again, he had no idea where he was. All he knew was that it was warm and he was lying on something soft.

He slowly looked around with a stiff neck, taking in the small room that seems to be a living room of a cabin. The warmth came from a blazing fire and the softness under him was actually a sofa. He tried to sit up and winced as he jostled his arm, which was wrapped neatly in white bandages. His hoodie was missing, but he still had his white shirt on.

Before he had time to wonder who had brought him here, the man who he had seen fighting the wolf earlier stepped out of what seemed to be the kitchen. He was tall and well-built, wearing a white tank top with a leather jacket over it. His eyes were stormy green, but they seemed to flash blue in the firelight. His black hair was messy, but a controlled messiness.

Stiles was completely terrified. The man opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles was already halfway to the door. He sprinted all the way to his house before he noticed the man hadn't followed him.

The next day, after spending practically the whole night explaining to his dad how he had gotten injured at Lacrosse practice and he couldn't get home until after he had went to the hospital, he woke up with his arm screaming with pain. He took some pills for it and somehow managed to get dressed with one arm, extremely glad it was Saturday so he didn't have to go to school.

He glanced out of his window and noticed a flash of red against the grey trunks of the tree. He hurried outside to find his red hoodie, hanging on the end of a branch.

Stiles shivered, but he didn't know if it was from the chill of the morning or if it was from the eerie feeling that he was being watched.

He glanced at the silent woods, thinking about that mysterious man who had saved his life. He hadn't even thanked him.

He sent a text to his dad that said he was going to Scott's, pulled on his hoodie, and then trudged into the woods.

Stiles wasn't even sure he was going in the right direction when he stumbled upon the cabin again. He swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked on the door.

When no one answered, Stiles pushed open the door. The cabin was quiet; the fireplace holding nothing but ashes now. "H-Hello?" He called out nervously.

A noise that sounded like footsteps started above him and made its way to the stairs. The teen stiffened and fought the urge to blot again.

The same man walked down the stairs, this time wearing only his white tank top. Stiles' eyes wandered over the firm and toned muscles before snapping back up to his face, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"Can I help you?" The stranger asked, his lips twitching up around the corners. He leaned against the railing of the stairs casually, his beautiful green eyes flashing in the morning light that streamed from one of the windows.

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly. "I, uh…I just wanted to say thank you. For saving me from…whatever that was."

"It was an Alpha wolf." The man replied calmly.

"Wh…what?"

"It's a very powerful wolf of a pack around here. I belong to the other pack. These woods are divided between the two packs. Our pack will usually leave humans alone, but not the other pack. I crossed over onto their side to save you."

"Why? Why would you want to save me? I'm just a stupid teenager who doesn't know any better not to walk into a scary-ass woods when it's getting dark outside!"

Suddenly the man looked nervous, dropping his gaze from the teens and avoiding the question. Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

"…What do you know about wolves?"

"Um…well, one thing I remember from Earth Science is that they mate for life." Stiles shrugged, not thinking that information was very important.

"…And wolves usually find their mates by smell, right Stiles?"

Stiles nodded but then stopped, his heart pounding in his chest. "Wait a minute…how do you know my name?"

Derek looked down, obviously embarrassed. "I…I've been watching you for a while now…I think…you are meant to be my mate."

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes. He couldn't say he didn't feel something for this stranger, but he didn't even know his name! How could they be mates? "…I don't even know your name!" Stiles blurted out, hoping he didn't sound too rude.

"Derek. Derek Hale."

"Look, Derek, I'm grateful that you saved my life, but we just met…how can I be your mate?"

"I don't know. But with everyone else I can detect their feelings and emotions from how they smell. Your scent disorients me. I can't even think straight…"

Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Alright, alright…so how do we prove that we're mates anyway?"

Derek thought for a moment. "Well…if you bared your neck to me…and my wolf instincts accept it…we'd be mates. But I don't want to force you to do anything, Stiles. You can walked out that door and I wouldn't stop you."

Stiles let out a breath. "No…I want to know. I don't want to leave you alone, Derek. Not after you saved my life."

Stiles leaned back against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest as Derek approached him. He lifted his chin up, baring his neck to the other. Derek's eyes glowed blue as he sniffed the pale skin. Stiles shivered as warm breaths ghosted over his skin.

Stiles stiffened when he felt a kiss on his neck and whimpered softly. Derek lifted his head back up, pressing his lips to the teen's in a gentle kiss. Stiles made a soft noise of surprise, but then he kissed the other back.

Derek pressed closer to the teen, kissing him for what seemed like hours, but was only actually a few minutes. When he finally pulled away, Stiles was panting for breath. Derek rested their foreheads together, smiling softly

"Mates?"

Stiles smiled widely at him, wrapping his arms around the other's neck.

"Mates."