A charged atmosphere encircled the rotten Nemeton, Peter's proposal of temporary allegiance looming over them. Scott's instantaneous refusal chimed with the visceral mistrust that governed every encounter with the cunning Alpha. Coralia's face was closed, her eyes narrowed on Peter, balancing the rewards against the natural risk of depending on him. Damien himself had a physical distaste for the notion, Leo's recollections leaving no doubt in his mind about Peter's selfishness and potential for betrayal. But the very real terror of the Darach's growing strength and their own lack of funds compelled a grudging debate on the unthinkable.
A common enemy," Peter echoed, his own voice smooth and consummate, yet with a subtle undertone of calculation. "The Darach's strength increases with every life she takes, upsetting the balance, attracting unwanted attention. It benefits none of us for her to go unchallenged." His red eyes flashed towards the ancient stump. "This location. it's a nexus, a point of focus. Figuring out how she's using it might be the key to halting her.
"And what's in it for you, Peter?" Scott demanded, his voice laced with skepticism. "You've never cared about protecting anyone but yourself."
Peter provided a sardonic smile. "Self-preservation, little wolf, can sometimes coincide with the greater good… temporarily. Besides," his eyes turned to Damien, a flicker of something that seemed close to scientific interest within his red eyes, "unraveling the complexity of a pureblood Lycan bloodline… that's an experience I wouldn't want to pass up."
Coralia spoke at last, her voice low and guarded. "What do you suggest, Peter?"
"Sharing information," he answered, his eyes sweeping between them. "I have my own… information networks, my own means of gathering information in this town. Rumors in darkness, fears in the newly made. I can provide you with insights on the Darach's whereabouts, her possible victims. And in return…" He looked at Damien. "I wish to know about your power, Lycan. Its source, its boundaries."
Damien felt a surge of resistance at the thought of revealing anything about his still-developing abilities to Peter. The Alpha's interest felt predatory, a desire to exploit any weakness.
"No," Scott said firmly. "We don't need your help, Peter. We'll figure this out ourselves."
Courageous words, little wolf," Peter replied with a smile. "But courage without intelligence is usually. deadly. The Darach is not a bumbling Beta you can knock down with raw muscle. She's intelligent, strong, and she's playing for stakes you can't even see." He glanced at Coralia. "You know the old traditions, Coralia. You know how much danger she represents. Can you truthfully afford to ignore a possible ally, no matter how distasteful?
Coralia's silence was eloquent. The reasoning behind Peter's argument, no matter how repulsive, contained a grim kernel of truth. They didn't know much about the Darach and the mechanisms of the Nemeton. Peter, with his connections in the supernatural grime beneath the surface of Beacon Hills, could have key pieces of the puzzle.
"If we do this… 'truce'," Coralia stated, her gaze cold, "there will be terms. No playing Scott. No questioning Damien's powers beyond what he wishes to share. And the instant we get the least whiff of betrayal…" Her voice dropped away, the unsaid menace looming over them.
Peter leaned forward, a glimmer of assent in his red eyes. "Reasonable terms. For now. Our shared interest in disabling the Darach takes precedence over any. personal desires." His eyes darted to Damien again, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly smile. "For now.
A tense peace was negotiated in the darkness of the ancient Nemeton, a fragile unity forged in desperation against a mutual foe. Intelligence started trickling in, Peter providing cryptic hints and disturbing observations regarding the Darach's activities and the rising apprehension among the supernatural community. Hushed meetings, he told her, newly created werewolves drawn to specific areas in the Preserve in an unnatural manner, a silent coercion that suggested the increasing reach of the Darach.
As Peter relayed his data, a chilling observation arose: some of his recently turned Betas had mentioned shadowy figures outside of the Nemeton, figures that bore a cold, unnatural aura, whispering in a language unknown to them. This supported Stiles's hypotheses regarding the Nemeton as a center of dark energy, and suggested the Darach had other, possibly more ancient, allies.
While Peter shared information, he also subtly interrogated Damien, his questions regarding his transformations and his heritage hidden beneath a mask of offhand interest. Damien, suspicious of the Alpha's motives, gave only evasive replies, using Leo's meta-knowledge to parry any really informative questions.
As the days passed, a fragile sense of progress began to emerge. Sheriff Stilinski's investigations into the human victims yielded unsettling connections, subtle links between their professions and the druidic categories Coralia had outlined. Stiles, meanwhile, continued his frantic research, uncovering more disturbing details about the Nemeton's dark history and the rituals that might be used to corrupt its power.
But beneath this uneasy alliance, seeds of betrayal were quietly germinating. Peter's real intentions were still mired in ambiguity, his eyes frequently wandering to Damien with a calculating gaze that contrasted with his assertions of an uneasy truce. And Coralia, although appearing devoted to halting the Darach, was frequently restrained, her awareness of the ancient traditions and Damien's heritage still only partly disclosed. The storm brewing over Beacon Hills was anything but dissipating, and the tenuous alliance made in the darkness of the Nemeton seemed on the point of splintering at the very first flash of genuine power.