Stiles shook his head. "You're going to murder or displace thousands of people and yet you still think that this is the correct course?" He pulled back from the dryad's touch.
                          
"Humanity is a corrupting force, much the same as the dark kitsune. The darach Julia Baccari was a daughter of Eve. Yet in months, her darkness tainted the sacred wood even deeper than the Nogitsune did in decades."
                          
Ilara stood up and looked down at Stiles. "Stand, Stiles Stilinski, and follow Ilara. Today is the day that your pack will try and resist Cerys' protection, the trees whisper of their intent."
                          
"What, are you going to restrain me or something?" Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Put me in a hostage situation so Peter and Chris have no choice but to surrender?"
                          
"Ilara has no such plans. Cerys wishes to converse with you, child. There is no trick or cruelty planned."
                          
There were two choices Stiles could have made; he could fight and scream and protest or he could save his energy. Both choices would have led to the same conclusion, having to look at the fucking unicorn again, just with one leaving him with more energy than the other. Realistically, he knew that he needed to save up as much as he could for when Peter and Chris showed up. So as much as it hurt his pride, Stiles stood up and scowled at Ilara. "Fine," he spat. "Take me to the fucking horse."
                          
——
                          
On the morning of the final day, Chris woke up sweltering with his own personal space heater wrapped around him. It was like the nerves over Stiles' being gone and the planned attack made Peter even more of an octopus than normal. He grunted and started to push Peter off of him, a nearly futile task. It was amazing how Peter could not only grip so hard in his sleep but also stay incredibly dead to the world while Chris pried him off.
                          
Chris ran a hand down his face as he got out of bed, he needed to shave but he had been so caught up in everything going on that he had just let his scruff grow out the past few days. If they ended up surviving all of this, he was looking forward to trimming down the beard. 
                          
He looked down at Peter, who had taken to suctioning onto a pillow in his absence, with a frown. It wasn't like Peter had planned the whole catastrophe, but Chris didn't like how he was taking advantage of the situation to start manipulating pieces into place. Chris had absolutely zero doubt in his mind that whatever shit he had done to Parrish had deeper repercussions than just unlocking his true hellhound potential.
                          
All it took was one look at Lydia to be reminded of the shit Peter had pulled with her and how he claimed that he had awoken her powers and anyone with half a brain would know Peter and "unlocking potential" was a deal almost always heavily weighted in Peter's favor. But in such a short timeframe with creatures Chris had never hoped to hunt, there was no time to slow down and try and find other options.
                          
Chris threw on one of Peter's shirts and headed to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. He couldn't want to go back to his own apartment, not liking how fucking domestic all of this felt when he ignored the whole saving Stiles from wooden monstrosities thing. He hadn't even intended on staying at Peter's place overnight but Peter had insisted in his own Peter way.
                          
Nothing screamed great night's sleep quite like spooning with a man you still didn't entirely trust not to stab you in the back.
                          
Peter walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, lured by the smell of coffee. He grabbed a mug Chris had gotten out for him and filled it. It was only when he was halfway done with drinking it that he looked towards Chris and spoke, voice still rough from sleep, "You look like you're about to march to your own funeral."
                          
"Any other observations you'd like to make?"
                          
Peter just smirked at him and took another sip of his coffee. After a moment he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if Stiles has already figured out a way to murder the dryads, honestly. There's a reason I've wanted him on my side for so long."