A low growl emanated from his throat as Peter Hale leaned against a twisted oak tree. Even from this distance he was locked onto her scent; he knew there was alcohol on her breath and sweat on her brow from the crush of people moving around her. He could also smell disappointment flowing off her in waves, coalescing with something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Another growl hummed in his throat as he tried harder to determine the root of her displeasure. It was Lydia Martin's eighteenth birthday and she had planned the party of the century. Every detail had been checked and rechecked until it met her impossibly high standards. The party was nothing short of perfection and the fact that she was not in a state of blissful transcendence burned in Peter's gut. Vibrant blue eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled deeper, trying to unravel the secrets behind that scent…

"What are you doing out here?" The sudden sharpness of Lydia's voice pierced through him. A smirk slid over his features as he turned to face her. Her beauty nearly stole his breath away. The ethereal glow of the waxing moon illuminated her porcelain skin, making her look angelic…except for the expression of anger that marred her delicate features. Lydia had really outdone herself; the dress she wore was a soft shade of lilac that accentuated the youthful bloom of her skin. Her strawberry blonde hair was coiffed and styled, held in place by a matching headband; he ached to pull the pins and run his fingers through it. Her lips were beautifully painted a shade of crimson that reminded him of cherries dripping in fresh blood. Peter marveled at the way Lydia managed to look both pristine and wanton at the same time. She was a goddess and he wanted nothing more than to fall on his knees and worship her.

Lydia steeled herself against the emotions flickering in Peter's cobalt eyes. She would never admit that he affected her. To do so would give him far more power over her than she was willing to give. "Hello? Earth to Peter?" Lydia snarked, "Why are you here?" Peter took a step forward but instead of moving back, she mimicked his motion. Lydia Martin did not back down from a challenge. Instead, she stood toe to toe with him, locked in a battle of wills that neither would come out of unscathed. "Seriously, if you think you're going to crash another one of my birthday parties, think again! I will not have a repeat of you poisoning everyone with wolfsbane like last year."

Peter felt his heart grip like a vise the moment he breathed Lydia in. She was in agony…yet this was not the kind of anguish he could release her from by absorbing the pain. Furrowing his brow, Peter relaxed his posture. It was a sign of submission and his way of offering an olive branch. He would never leave her like this, which meant that he needed to get her to open up to him—one way or another. "I'm not here to cause trouble," Peter replied softly. "Why don't we take a little walk and you can tell me why you're so miserable?" He noticed the gooseflesh that rose over her skin as a cool breeze whispered through the trees. Without hesitation he slipped off his jacket and settled it around her shoulders.

"What makes you think I'm miserable?" Lydia huffed indignantly. She planned on walking away from him with her nose in the air. Instead she unconsciously moved further from the lake house and followed Peter down toward the water. They walked in relative silence until they reached the shore. Peter hovered closer to her than she was comfortable with but she made no move to push him away. Kicking off the heels that she wore, Lydia dug her toes into the cold sand. Drawing Peter's jacket tighter around her, she plopped down, resting her hands on her knees. The house that her grandmother lived in would be sold in a few weeks and she would lose all ties to this place…she had to make the most of it while she could.

Ignoring Peter's knowing smirk as he settled down beside her, Lydia averted her eyes. He was sitting there silently, staring at the water but she knew he was waiting for an answer. Finally, she snapped, "It shouldn't be like this!" Lydia mournfully rested her chin against her knee, "My best friend is dead! I'm a banshee who can't control her powers. I can feel death around me all the time! It gets so strong sometimes that I lose all focus and I end up standing over gruesome corpses that give me horrible nightmares." The confession poured out of her before she had a chance to stop it. "Do you know how many amazing pairs of shoes I've had to throw away because I can't get the blood off them?" She snapped. "Oh, and if that wasn't enough. There's an insane girl trying to kill me and all of my friends! Someone is always trying to kill me and my friends. I'm starting to get a complex!"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Peter found himself smiling. He did not relish her pain but he reveled in the fact that she opened up to him so completely. Inching closer, he brushed a strand of her hair over her shoulder. "Lydia," He soothed, "I prescribe to the belief that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. And you're stronger than the lot of them." He caught the look of confusion in her eyes. "As a werewolf, I derive power from my natural abilities. You rely on your cunning to protect yourself." His hand slid down, covering her side where he bit her. "You've healed without any advantage except your own strength of will. It's incredible, Lydia…you're incredible…"

The warmth of Peter's hand drew her attention immediately. Her cinnamon eyes were round and bright with unshed tears. Over the years she had been called many things: pretty, popular, smart, narcissistic, even a bitch… yet none of them held the weight of Peter's assertion. For several moments, Lydia grappled with how to respond. It didn't feel right to thank him. That wasn't what he wanted. For once, Peter wasn't fishing for a compliment. He didn't seem to want anything but to be near her. Mulling that over for a moment, Lydia suddenly realized the significance of his presence. "Tonight isn't just my birthday…"

"No, it's not…" Peter breathed softly. The soft lapping of waves upon the shore was calming but not nearly as much as Lydia's charming presence. It was the anniversary of the night that she brought him back to life. For months he reached out to her from beyond the veil, ingratiating himself into her everyday life. The transition was slow but meaningful. She was too strong, she fought him at every turn. Yet she had seduced him with her every movement and every touch. His soul was irrevocably bound to hers ever since the moment their lips touched. A shiver crawled up his spine as he gazed over at Lydia once more. "Do you still dream about me?"

The quiet reprieve Lydia had come out here for was shattered in an instant. "You're unbelievable!" She scoffed angrily. Bucking his grasp, Lydia grabbed her shoes and scrambled back toward the house. Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she felt his presence behind her.

"Lydia!" Peter grasped her arm; it wasn't tight enough to hurt but she had no choice but to turn and face him again. His expression softened imperceptibly, "Answer me and I'll let you go." He needed the truth more than he needed his next breath.

Lydia tipped her chin in defiance. Rolling her eyes skyward, she took a calming breath. She knew she had to control her heartbeat. She had been practicing…but she had never practiced with Peter who made her heart rate spike just with his presence. "No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous," She replied haughtily. As promised, Peter let go of her and Lydia took off like a shot. The sand inhibited her movement somewhat, Peter could have easily overtaken her but he didn't move. Still, she heard his voice as clear as day despite the wind picking up and rustling the leaves around her.

"Liar…"

Stilling for a moment, Lydia gritted her teeth, "That's rich coming from you. All you do is lie and manipulate." She whirled around to find Peter standing inches away from her. "Don't you have anything better to do than torture me?" Lydia snapped, "You could be out taking candy from babies as we speak!"

Peter's expression bordered on murderous, "Do you really think I would be so needlessly cruel, Lydia?" Anger churned in his veins as he growled, "My only goal is to make sure that those who have hurt me and my family pay for what they have done." Peter drew in a ragged breath. "You don't know what it is like to be locked in your own weak body with no company but your own poisonous thoughts. It is maddening!"

Lydia rested her hand on her hip. "How about the gripping fear you feel when a dead psychopath invades your thoughts? Every banshee I've ever heard of has ended up at Eichen House. I've got a much higher probability of slowly going insane and I'm not so sure it's not happening as we speak!" She hollered back. "You preyed upon that, Peter. You used me and you aren't even sorry!"

Peter's icy blue eyes flashed dangerously as his power surged beneath his skin. "You gave me back my life. Without you, I would have continued rotting away without hope for redemption or love…" He brushed his thumb over her cheek, "I never wanted to hurt you. If there had been another way, I would have taken it. But you were the only hope that I had." He licked his lips, "When I bit you, I left a piece of myself inside you. You were the only one, Lydia…"

Lydia's expression darkened, "I know." She wrapped Peter's coat tighter around her. It smelled like him; a mixture of soap, shampoo, and something that was all his own. It calmed her even though she was well aware that it shouldn't. The moment between them was too heavy, it crushed her until she felt like she couldn't breathe anymore. Lydia desperately needed to lighten the mood. "Thanks to you, I can't wear a bikini anymore," She groused.

Peter's fingertips trailed down her hip. "You are beautiful. The scars only accentuate that…" He replied curtly. "Anyone who tells you otherwise is an imbecile!" How could any man look upon this ethereal beauty and see anything but perfection? Lydia was everything that was good in this world.

A blush crept over Lydia's cheeks despite her best efforts. "You're warped," She managed to choke out. This time, she was determined to walk away from him. Gripping her shoes tighter, Lydia moved toward the edge of the beach and plopped down on a log to put her heels back on. He made no move to stop her but Lydia could feel his eyes burning into her back. The sensation only intensified as she reached the edge of the wood. Anger swept through her like wildfire and she faced him one last time, "What, Peter! What is it you want from me? No more lies, no more dancing around what you really want to say! Why are you here?"

"I wanted to give you your birthday present." Slipping his hands into his jean pockets, he pulled out a small box. "I know it won't compare to the gift I gave you last year…which was my return to the land of the living." Peter smirked. Lydia scowled. Peter couldn't help but marvel at how adorable she was when she was angry. His fingertips slipped over the soft black velvet of the box, watching her every move.

Lydia was morbidly curious as to what Peter Hale would've bought for her. Yet she would never admit that in a hundred thousand years. Feigning disinterest, Lydia remained still as the grave. "I don't want anything from you, Peter." She flipped her hair, erecting the icy façade that kept the rest of the world at bay. "You should save your money. Rumor has it that someone stole a hundred seventeen million dollars from you…"

"I am well aware," He chuckled darkly. Peter approached with caution, knowing that one wrong move could easily set her off. "Luckily for you, this didn't cost me a thing." Slipping the warm box into her hands, he waited impatiently for her to open it. "Lydia…" He warned.

"Okay! You win…" Lydia threw open the box. Inside was necklace with an opalescent gem in the middle which reflected and refracted the moonlight. It seemed to glow of its own accord. Small diamonds flanked the stone in a circular pattern. Peter reverently removed the necklace from the box; he moved behind her and slid it around her bare throat. Once he was done, he took a moment to admire her. It was as if the necklace had been crafted with only her in mind. Except, that wasn't true… "It was my mother's. My father gave it to her on their first anniversary. Ironically, it was also the night I was born."

Lydia's fingers grasped the gem, her perfectly manicured nails sliding over the coolness of it. "Moonstone…" She gazed up at Peter suddenly. "It's beautiful but…I can't accept this." It was a family heirloom and one that held far too much significance. Lydia reached up to undo the clasp but Peter's hands wrapped around her wrists. Angrily, she pushed against his chest, "Let me go!"

"I can't let you go. Don't you understand that by now?" Peter roared, the passion within him came rushing to the surface. "I owe you my entire existence. Without you, I would be nothing…" Lydia suddenly stopped struggling and he nearly lost his footing at the expression that crossed her delicate features. "Lydia—"

"Peter, shut up…" Lydia reached for him immediately, dragging his mouth to hers. She didn't know why she did it. No, that was a lie. Lydia Martin kissed Peter Hale because every cell screamed for it. Men were always looking to obtain something from her whether it was body, her mind, or her banshee powers. If she allowed them, they would take from her until there was nothing left to give. Peter Hale was a selfish bastard who wanted nothing more than to take everything for himself…except when it came to her. Lydia had never experienced anything like it before and saw no other option but possessing him.

Dragging Lydia against the hard plane of his body, Peter devoured her mouth. She may have initiated it, but Peter was all about followthrough. One by one he removed the bobby pins from her hair until the strawberry blonde locks spilled over her shoulders. Jamming his fingers through her hair, his fingers dipped their way down to the zipper of her dress. "Is this what you want?"

Lydia's cinnamon eyes were dilated almost to black as she gazed up at him. Her heart thudded in her chest. If she said no, she'd be lying not only to him but also to herself. What was worse, Peter would know in an instant. Lydia licked her lips, swollen from his kisses, and nodded. She didn't need to say the words because Peter already knew the answer.

A mixture of shock, desire, and need coursed through him so powerfully that it almost caused him to shift right there. His fingertips curled into claws as he lost control and he used that to slash off her dress, leaving her bare before him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Kicking off her heels, Lydia threw herself into Peter's arms. Instantly she wrapped her legs around him, kissing her way down the sensitive contour of his neck. A smirk played on her lips at the moan of pleasure she wrenched from him; Lydia could feel the rumbling all the way down into the core of her. In turn, Peter's thigh pressed between her legs as his rough hands cradled her breasts and the nipples that begged for his attention. This was not the rough, eager sex of a boy but the powerful sexual awakening of being with a man. His every touch lit her on fire.

The chill of the forest surrounded them and yet neither Lydia nor Peter felt the cold. The urgency of their kisses grew as twilight approached. Lydia ripped Peter's shirt off with her bare hands, leaving strips of cloth strewn over the forest floor. Afterward, she attacked his belt and tugged until he was as naked as she was. Peter pressed her against an oak tree, the rough bark scratching at her back in a way that only spurned her onward. The modicum of pain in their pleasure was driving her far beyond the point of no return.

Lydia's throaty cries were all that Peter needed to know that she was ready for him. Capturing her mouth once more, he gazed for one moment straight into her soul…and it was marvelous. Lydia opened her thighs once more and in one thrust, he slipped inside of her. For the first time in Peter Hale's depraved, twisted life, it felt like he belonged somewhere. Lydia gasped with pleasure, his name tumbling from her lips as he moved inside of her. Each stroke, every touch and movement drove them both toward the edge of oblivion.

At Lydia's behest, Peter picked up the pace…slowly at first and then faster as she spurred him onward. The world tilted on its axis as Lydia tightened around him, her nails dragging down his back. The howls of a wolf and the screams of a banshee resonated in unison as Peter and Lydia succumbed to their pleasure. A single ray of moonlight burst through the clouds, illuminating the entwined couple as they breathed heavily.

Lydia's face was flushed and glowing as she rested her head against Peter's shoulder. His body remained wrapped around hers, unwilling to disentangle himself from her so soon. Kissing her tenderly, Peter eased her feet back onto the ground. Carefully he helped her back into the ruined shreds of her dress and zipped up his jacket around her. His shirt was too far gone to be salvaged, so he tugged his jeans back on, remaining shirtless in the moonlight. They didn't have much time…her cry would bring interlopers quickly. He took a step back, meeting her gaze. "The necklace is yours, Lydia. I never want you to take it off for as long as you live…"

One hand curled around the gift he had given her, the other wrapped around her waist to hold her dress closed. "We don't always get what we want, Peter."

A genuine smile lit up Peter's handsome face, "Sometimes we do." Bending down, he kissed her once more, "Happy birthday, Lydia." It took every ounce of strength he had to let go of her. Once again he moved toward the forest, heading toward the empty home that awaited him. He stilled for just a moment when Lydia's soft voice reached his ears, "Happy anniversary, Peter…" Now that he'd had a taste of her, there was nothing that would stop him from possessing her. Werewolves mated for life and Lydia was unequivocally his.

Pausing at the edge of the wood, he inhaled deeply. Lydia's scent was altogether different now, her contentment mingled with the salty sheen of their recent lovemaking. There was something else…the realization sent shivers down his spine. Peter knew what Lydia was feeling right now because it was what he felt himself: Joy.

So...true story. I have pneumonia. Yes, in August. I am sick beyond measure and reason, on major antibiotics, and can hardly get up. I decided this would be a great time to marathon Teen Wolf. I was right. I am a new shipper to this pairing and a new convert to Teen Wolf. But god I am going to love it here.

Please bear in mind, I am an adult watching this show and not a teenager. This story is for adults.

Adults like my fucking AMAZING beta who has never seen even ONE episode of Teen Wolf (yet) but still edited the crap out of this. SHE IS SO AWESOME! JustVisiting80, she writes the BEST stories for Star Crossed and the 100. Go check her out.

Do you want more Pydia awesomeness or have a suggestion on what I should write next? Please read and review, I want to know what you think. I will love you forever.

xoxo

Marina