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A/N: So, this is in third person which is kinda easier for me to write, so I'm gonna try and write the rest of the book in third person and please comment your thoughts on it. Like if it's better or worse.

Just a warning, the beginning of this chapter has slight explicit sexual content, or in other words, light smut, and partial nudity. And this chapter is more Mary Anne/Stiles centered, it isn't set in the episode and doesn't follow the transcripts.

Translation for the Bulgarian at the end:
Obicham te, malko sestri: I love you, little sis.
Obicham te i ti, golyam brat: I love you, too, big bro.

Hope you enjoy the chapter!

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Mary Anne lost track of time when Stiles pulled her into his lap side-ways, arms around her waist while he sat at the head of his bed, cheek lying on the top of her head as she cried. The envelope and its contents remained on his nightstand, taunting her as she stared at it after her cries subsided, merely clinging to Stiles in a way of regaining control of her emotions.

"How're you feeling?" He whispered against her hair, shifting to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Hmm," she hummed, drowsy from being pressed against him and the weight of recent events taking its toll on her, feeling safe and warm in his arms. "I'm better than I was when I first came here. What about you?"

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, surprised at how easily she brushed it off. She always tried so hard to put on a brave face, sometimes it wasn't that hard for her, but in moments like the one they were in, vulnerable and lost, she pushed it away and hid it. He knew that one day, with how much her emotions were overwhelming her, she was gonna snap and have to confront what happened in her past. He knew because he knew one day, it was gonna happen to him. But he also knew that he'd be there for her and vice versa.

"I'm fine, but tell me the truth, Mary Anne," he said knowingly, watching her eyes flicker to his briefly. "I know you, I know when you're lying."

A small sigh left her lips, shifting in his hold to swing her leg on the other side of his legs, straddling his thighs, her icy blue eyes avoiding his whiskey brown ones because she knew that if she looked, her resolve would break. "I'm not lying, I do feel better. Not one hundred percent, but it's a start," she started off meekly, chin ducked down and hair hiding her face.

He reached up and hooked his index finger underneath her chin, gently pushing her head up and used his other hand to brush her hair away from her face, staring directly into her eyes. "You don't have to act all stoic and stubborn with me, okay?" He asked, cupping each side of her jaw to keep her there. "Not with me. You can be vulnerable with me because that shows just how strong you are."

Mary Anne faltered, lips parting slightly as she felt conflicted. Her sister told her when their parents died to always be strong, to never show that someone got to her or show any sign of weakness. She'd always believed that showing vulnerability or sadness was weakness, and here this boy was, telling her the opposite, that it was okay to be vulnerable, that it wasn't a sign of weakness but a sign of strength (and yet he wouldn't talk to her about his own feelings, but she decided not to bring it up, not wanting to push him.) She didn't know how to respond, so she did one thing she felt was natural for her; she pressed her lips against his, hard and unyielding.

He grunted in surprise, eyes squeezing close as he reciprocated the kiss for a moment, moaning quietly, before pulling away, panting for air. "Oh no you don't," he breathed out. "You are not gonna distract me with your feminine wiles. Nuh-uh, nope, not gonna happen, little lady."

She groaned and slumped back, biting her lip thoughtfully as she tried to come up with a response. "Fine," she gave in. "But I wasn't lying about feeling a little bit better now that I'm here. I feel angry and betrayed. The only family I really have left lied to me for nine years, or rather, my whole life, and told me things that are the complete opposite of what you're saying. I feel angry at my parents for telling Nessa and Nikolai to take my memories of you and Scott, my Soulmate and Protector..." Mary Anne trailed off, faltering and blinking back tears. "I feel lost because I thought that once I found out what I was that I would find... Peace, comfort, but now I just feel lost." Her rant was finished with a tired sigh, her mind becoming drained but she continued, less rushed and less flustered. "But when I'm with you, I don't feel lost, angry, betrayed or sad. I feel happy, safe, at home with you and I don't want to ruin that."

He gulped thickly, slightly frustrated by her tendency to bottle up emotions. "You are so stubborn," he muttered, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers and keeping his hold on her jaw. "I swear you are more stubborn than Scott, and that's saying something."

The comparison of her and Scott made the corner of her lip quirk up slightly, nuzzling her nose against his affectionately. "I think you mean I'm more stubborn than you because you can be more headstrong than me and that's saying something."

"It got you to smile, didn't?" He asked, ignoring her jab.

She bobbed her head from side to side, giving him a soft smile. "Yeah, it did. Thank you for always being there for me."

She pursed her lips together, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head under his chin, nuzzling her cheek into his chest. He hugged her close to him, arms around her shoulders and hands stroking her hair, holding her like she was the most precious thing to him and not someone who could break someone's bones with ease. It was amazing, how simple physical contact could comfort her, could hold her together and prevent her from snapping.

He gently coaxed her to look at him and he framed her face with his hands, pressing his lips to hers tenderly. She sighed in contentment, parting her lips slightly to lock with his as she moved her hands from his back and to his chest, one moving up to cup his cheek. She could feel his heart hammering beneath her palm, the sound echoing in her ears as his chest pressed against her small one. "Mm," he hummed against her lips, smiling lightly and savoring the taste of her. She always tasted the same to him; like strawberries. It was addicting, which was why he always took the chance to kiss her. She tore her lips from his reluctantly to breathe, her lungs burning for oxygen. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?" Stiles whispered, thumb running along her bottom lip.

Mary Anne shook her head. "Just... Just kiss me."

"I can do that."

Their lips met in the middle, more passionately than before , but she could feel the love flowing between them nonetheless. She had a hard time dealing with her emotions, but when it came to Stiles, she was always certain and never had a hard time expressing them. At least, not with words, most of the time. It was weird, she had a difficult time expressing her sadness when it was such a familiar emotion for her, and yet it was so easy to express her love for him. Something she'd never felt before in a romantic sense, only when it was familial or platonic.

Her hands wandered around his torso and arms, unable to help herself and she didn't object when one of his hands left her face to settle on her hip, squeezing lightly. His head tilted to the side and his tongue stroked her bottom lip, silently asking permission to enter. She accepted, opening her lips eagerly and he wasted no time in plundering her mouth, stroking her tongue and battling for dominance, which he won. A little moan traveled from her throat and was swallowed by his kiss just as he made a low noise of pleasure, feeling one of his hands tentatively slip beneath her shirt and camisole to touch the skin of her lower back, the other gently tangling in her blonde tresses.

"Mary Anne?" He pulled back, eyes boring into hers as she settled her hand atop of his and steadily raised them, raising her shirts in the process. "What are you doing?"

She stopped their hands right below the clasp of her bra, taking a deep breath before answering, "Trust me?" He nodded and she moved his hands to where they were before and removed her shirts, hair falling messily around her face as she tossed them somewhere on the floor. She heard his sharp intake of breath, pupils blown wide and the whiskey brown of his irises turned into a deep brown, and she was suddenly thankful for wearing a lacy burgundy bralette. "Don't be afraid to touch me," Mary Anne breathed out, eyelids fluttering as his long fingers glided along the curve of her spine.

Winding his other arm around her, Stiles carefully reversed their position so he was on top of her, sitting on his knees between her legs, back hunched so he could reach her lips, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of her head.

They didn't resume kissing right away, his eyes gazing down at her and memorizing every detail of her. Her blonde hair fanned out on her pillow, ice blue eyes bright, cheeks flushed a light pink and lips swollen from kissing. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him, blown away and in permanent awe of the girl beneath him.

"I don't know if I say this enough, but you are so beautiful, Mary Anne," he whispered, voice thick with emotions.

Mary Anne's lips curved into a soft smile, hands smoothing over his chest and sliding down his torso to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. "You're not so bad yourself, babe," she whispered, pressing light kisses along the line of his jaw. His eyelids slid close, a little noise slipping past his lips as she continued her exploration of his neck.

Stiles waited a few moments before pulling her away from his neck and kissed her, hard and ardent, hand holding the nape of her neck while hers roamed his covered back, tugging at the hem of his shirt and he got the message, pulling back and reaching behind him to pull off his Star Wars shirt and tossed it carelessly somewhere in the room. This time, her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his torso. He looked the same as before, and it still amazed her.

She leaned forward and skimmed her lips along his shoulder, pressing a kiss to each freckle and mole near her lips. It pulled at something in his heart and stomach. His head bowed forward, cheek nuzzling against hers affectionately. To catch her off guard, he started pressing open-mouth kisses along the side of her neck, right on her fluttering and jumping pulse as she kissed his skin. And to his immense delight, a blissful sigh tumbled from her mouth that matched his and her hand clenched against his shoulder blade.

"Stiles," Mary Anne murmured, eyes closed and heart racing. "Oh."

Tentatively, his lips traveled to her clavicle and right below, pressing feather-light kisses against her pale skin and igniting little sparks beneath her skin. Her right hand curled around his bicep, squeezing gently as her back arched ever so slightly. Ever since she got bit, her senses were cranked up so his touches felt more... It just felt more.

"Krasiv," he said softly while his hands caressed her flanks, nose nudging the edge of her bralette. Her lips tugging up lightly at the word uttered in her second language.

"Mnogo dobre, Stilis. Vie shte bŭdete svobodni za moment," she praised, tongue poking out to wet her bottom lip before translating the words. "Very good, Stiles. You'll be fluent in no time." Her words ended in a breathy moan, his teeth sinking into the skin right above her left breast lightly to leave a love bite, barely breaking the skin.

"Why thank you, Miss Archer," he chuckled quietly against her, continuing his teasing as he pressed kisses along her small, heaving bosom. His free hand left from gripping his pillow next to her head to hover over her breast before lightly palming the mound, squeezing experimentally. A wave of heat crashed over her and she arched her back, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

She was surprised she wasn't shifting with the way her heart was racing, it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest and run a marathon. But then again, Stiles was her anchor, so maybe that was why she wasn't shifting. She hadn't told him yet, she wanted to wait until her sixteenth birthday, but seeing as how they just figured out they were literal Soulmates, she had the urge to just get it over with and tell him soon.

Her thoughts flew from her mind when Stiles started kissing her sternum and dropped his hand from her chest, his buzzed head the only thing in her line of sight. Her feet hooked around the back of his thighs, one hand cupping the back of his head as he trailed his lips along her stomach, fueling the fire burning within her, the tip of his tongue tracing her navel until her stomach trembled from her trying to keep in her laughs but a small giggle traitorously left her throat. He smiled against her midriff, happy that he made her laugh. Even if it was just a little giggle.

Stiles kissed his way back up, skimming his swollen lips along her sternum, dark eyes looking up at her from beneath his ridiculously long lashes, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips and the appendage grazed her sensitive flesh. She exhaled shakily and poked her own tongue against her upper left canine, and when she clenched her hands together, she felt a sharp prick. She didn't realize her claws were starting to pop out until then. Clenching her fingers and moving them so the back of her hands was pressed against the pillow on either side of her head, trying to will her claws to stop growing, eyes closing and trying to regain control. But it was difficult, her heart still racing and skin still on fire.

A firm but gentle hand on her cheek brought her back, eyes snapping open to look into the wide, curious eyes above her. "Hey," Stiles whispered. "Lemme see."

As bewildered and shocked she felt at the request, she uncurled her fingers, claws fully lengthening. She expected him to back up and stop, but yet again, he surprised her by sitting up between her knees, urging her to sit up as well and she did, back slumped but she still looked up at him. She could feel her heart clenching almost painfully as he took her left hand in his and brought them up to inspect the brownish claws. Claws that could cut and tear into flesh easily, but he didn't look scared. He still looked curious.

Using his other hand to trace the faint lines on the back of her fingers, he rubbed the top of the claw of her index finger, skimming the pad of his thumb against the sharp tip. Tears sparked in her glowing eyes at his tender touch, especially when he curled his fingers around her palm and brought the back of her hand to his cheek, holding them there. "I don't want to hurt you," she whispered fearfully, trying to tug her hand away from him carefully but he kept a firm hold.

"You won't," he whispered, confident in her control when she believed she barely had any.

She believed she was a mess, feeling nothing but aggression, anger, and despair. It was an endless cycle, only stopping for a while like when she came back to Beacon Hills, before she learned the truth about Aurora, and when she finally got her shit together in middle school after a huge fight between her and two boys. And these blissful moments she only really had when with Stiles nowadays was her only escape of the tumultuous whirlwind of her volatile emotions.

"How can you be so sure, huh?" She shot back, but her tone didn't hold any malice. "How can you be so sure I won't snap and lose whatever sense of control that I barely have?"

"Because despite your penchant for trying to fight people," he started off. "The only actual fight I've seen you in was when you were defending yourself in seventh grade and when you were protecting me." He smiled suddenly, lopsided and adoring. "See?" That was when she noticed her claws that were replaced by her regular nails, and her eyes dimmed from a shining gold and an electric green back to icy blue.

A small huff of surprise left her, head shaking slightly. "I just want to stop now before it gets out of hand. Trust me, I do want to... You know, with you, but not just right now. I just think fifteen is a young age to lose my virginity."

"Oh," Stiles said, lips puckered into an 'O' shape in surprise. "Oh, I totally get it." Then he blinked twice, realizing what she said. "You're a virgin?" He asked, slithering up until he laid on his side next to her, head propped up on his hand.

Her already pink cheeks turned red, embarrassed. "Yeah, I am."

"So am I," he admitted to make her feel less uncomfortable. "But weren't you with Aurora before me? Didn't you do... I don't know, stuff?"

Mary Anne scrunched up her nose, any feeling of desire vanishing at the mention of her unfaithful ex. "Not the way you're probably thinking," she said, hand coming up to rub her forehead. "We had a lot of make-out sessions, saw each other in our undergarments, but no sex."

"Really?" Stiles raised his eyebrows. "That's all?"

Mary Anne bit her lip, looking down at his chest, hand coming up to trace nonsensical patterns across his pale skin. "Yep. I was only fourteen, a freshman and she was a sophomore, so I wasn't all that keen on having sex."

"So you're into older men and women," Stiles quipped, running the back of his knuckles along her bicep. "Good to know."

"Okay, I'm actually older than you, and she was only a year older than me," Mary Anne pointed out, poking him in the chest.

They fell into comfortable silence after that, just laying with each other until Mary Anne looked over his shoulder and at his bedside clock. "I have to go, it's getting late," she whispered.

Stiles frowned and caught her hand as she started to reach down to the end of the bed, letting go when she gently tugged. "What are you doing?" He asked as she sat Indian style on the bed and held the envelope in her hands, searching for the ring Stiles put back in the envelope. She held it between her fingers, an indecipherable emotion in her eyes. He bit his lip briefly before gently taking the ring from her and took her left hand, the appendage small compared to his large hand. "This is a promise ring, right?" Stiles asked quietly, looking up to meet her eyes. "Well then, I can promise to always love you, and that I want to be with you beyond high school and hopefully, beyond college."

Mary Anne smiled and watched with adoration as he gingerly slid the ring onto her left ring finger. "I promise the same," she whispered, holding his hand as she pressed a tender kiss to his lips before reaching for the necklace. "Can you help me put this on?" She asked and Stiles nodded, so she scooted around on the bed and swept her hair from her neck. She couldn't help the smile that curved at her lips when she saw the charm dangling, shuddering as the cold metal settled over her skin and the weight settled over her collar bones, comforting. "Thank you, luv."

"Luv?" Stiles asked, finishing clasping it, smiling adoringly when Mary Anne looked at him over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Mary Anne said softly. "It's just a thing I wanted to try out."

"I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah... Luv." Mary Anne's nose scrunched up as she giggled, shaking her head lightly and kissing him once more, unable to resist his soft lips. She just wanted to spend as much time with him before she had to leave, which reminded her that Nik would go out and look out for if she didn't get home soon.

"I have to go, Stiles." He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her more firmly against his body and held his face in her neck.

"I can hide you under my bed if my dad comes in. You're fast enough, aren't you?" He asked, voice muffled but she could hear him clearly.

"No," Mary Anne said in a breathy voice, still feeling intense euphoria coursing through her. "Stiles, Nik will go out and look for me. If he finds me here, shirtless with you, he will go off on you. I don't need my brother eating my boyfriend, or tearing his throat out with his fangs." Before he could try and convince her, she untangled herself from him and stood from the bed, grabbing her shirts from the floor and pulled them on one at a time, feeling Stiles' eyes on her. "Enjoying the view?" Mary Anne teased, smirking while smoothing down her olive green henley and pulled on her red leather jacket. He shrugged and flashed her a flirty grin. "Cheeky."

"You like it," he winked, crawling off his bed when Mary Anne slid on her boots and went over to his open window, shoving the envelope into her pocket for her. "Be safe, okay?"

Mary Anne nodded and kissed him again. "Goodnight." She gulped thickly before speaking three little words that held so much weight and meaning. "I love you."

Stiles smiled, "I love you, too."

And with that Mary Anne pulled away, rather reluctantly, and climbed out the window and carefully slid down the roof. Stiles watched with curious eyes as she curved her body as she flipped off the roof, and taking off into the night.

He grinned goofily to himself, closing the window and backing away. "How the hell did I ever get her?"

☾

When Mary Anne got home, there was only one light on so she entered her home quietly, shutting the door and locking it before moving towards the kitchen where the light was coming from.

Nikolai was leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand, another mug across from him on the table and he seemed... Calm and comfortable in his dark t-shirt shirt and black basketball shorts. Mary Anne entered the kitchen, hesitant, his head snapping up and eyes meeting hers from across the room. "Hey," Nik breathed out a bit awkwardly. "I know you're still mad at me, and it'll take a lot more than hot chocolate for you to forgive me, but can you take my peace offering?"

The youngest Archer eyed him suspiciously but she slid onto a chair at the table, taking the mug and held the warm ceramic between her hands, and she caught a whiff of chocolate and cinnamon. "Maybe," Mary Anne considered. "I just don't understand why you had to take my memories. So what if I met them a little early?"

"A little early? More like twelve years early. Mary Anne, it only happened because of your unique genes, genes Nessa wasn't born with, and genes I barely even have."

"What?" She asked, perplexed.

Nikolai sighed and put down the mug, moving to sit in front of her, and scrubbed his hand over his face. "It's rare for a pollá to be a guy, but not unheard of, and sometimes an offspring of one is a human, and I was born with only a bit of magic. I can do little stuff, like locking and unlocking doors, light candles, stuff like that. But there's only been a few werewolf-pollá hybrids in history, and they've all met their Protectors and Soulmates way too early, except for me since I'm barely a pollá. It goes against their, our, rules. Fate makes it so you meet them at sixteen, and fate chooses who when you're born. Mom and Dad was just restoring the order."

Mary Anne went silent, digesting the information. In some weird way, it made sense. "I just... How close were we?" She asked a question floating around in her mind.

Nik smiled, a look of nostalgia on his pale features. "You three were inseparable. One time when Scott got sick at five years old and then got Stiles sick, you stayed here with them, even though you weren't sick. You all fell asleep on the pull-out couch we used to have, you between them. Scott was behind you, and Stiles in front and holding your hand, but you two weren't asleep. It was kind of like they were protecting you."

When Nik said that, her mind went foggy and a voice resonated in her head. It was male, but it sounded like they were a kid.

"We're always gonna be friends, Mare. I promise me and Scottie are always gonna protect you."

Mary Anne snapped out of it when Nik waved his hand in front of her face, eyebrows furrowed. "You okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Uh, yeah," Mary Anne cleared her throat. "I'm sorry I reacted that way. I should've heard you out."

"No, that reaction was completely plausible," Nik contradicted her apology.

Mary Anne brought the mug to her lips, taking a sip of the hot chocolate and licked the whipped cream from her top lip before speaking. "I reacted that way because Stiles and Scott have become important to me, they're apart of my pack. And being a werewolf, it's made me more aggressive and made my already short-temper more explosive."

Nik frowned and stood, making his way around the table and Mary Anne stood as well, confused, then surprised when he wrapped his long arms around her shoulders and pulled her into him, chin resting on her head. She was still for a moment before cautiously winding her arms around his waist. "It'll get easier, now that you have them back."

"Thanks for coming clean to me," Mary Anne whispered.

"No problem," Nik said just as softly. "Obicham te, malko sestri."

Mary Anne smiled softly and hugged her brother tighter. "Obicham te i ti, golyam brat."

He pulled away after a while and put his hands on her shoulders, his smile falling. "There are a few more things that I need to tell you."

"Like what?"

"A further explanation to Mom's letter, things she failed to mention. Like how your wolf side is a bit... Different."

"Different how?"

"The last full moon, did you turn?"

Mary Anne nodded. "Yeah, but since then the most I've been able to do is pop out my claws, flash my eyes, growl, and occasionally my fangs come out."

"That's because while your senses may have heightened prematurely, you won't be able to fully transform until a few months after your sixteenth birthday, even if you did get bit. You'll be able to flash your eyes and have the claws, and like you said, occasionally your fangs will make an appearance as well, but because of your unique DNA, things are different. And I know, your thinking, 'then why did I turn?' Well, it's because your emotions were all over the place, right?" She nodded, lips pursing as she absorbed the new information. "Like, anger, desperation, confusion, betrayal. That is the anomaly of your biology, how you can turn once and it'll take time for you to do so again."

"How long will it take before I can turn like Scott?"

"It depends on how powerful you are. It's different for every hybrid. For some, it took a year, others, months. But Grandma, she predicted that you'd be powerful, so it may be only a few months before you can."

"Anything else?"

"Now that you have turned once, your healing will be a bit slower. It depends on how bad the wound is. And while you're stronger than a human, you won't reach your full potential for strength until the next time you completely turn."

She was silent for a few moments, having more questions, but she stored that bit of information about her healing for later. "Mom said I'm a mutation of a witch, can you further explain that?"

"Well, witches only have about two or three specific talents, like necromancy, healing, and hydrokinesis. You, on the other hand, can have multiple, and it all depends on what you're strongest at and what you choose to learn."

"Are there any others like me, besides you? And did you have the same trouble, with turning, like I'm gonna have?"

"Only five that I've heard of, other than you and I. For the past six hundred years, there's only been about one hundred and fifty of our kind, before those five. And no, I didn't, because like I said, I'm barely a hybrid. My magic can run out and take weeks, sometimes months, to replenish, while it's the opposite for you. It doesn't affect me the same way."

Mary Anne sighed and dropped her head, trying not to panic at the overwhelming feeling of fear and anguish flooding through her like a dam that was leaking profusely. "This is gonna be hard, isn't it?" She finally spoke, looking up at him, a grim look on her face.

He gave her a faint, but reassuring smile. "You're an Archer; you'll get through it."