"The man with the scar..."

Two weeks had passed since the night the man with the tattooed knuckles died. Two weeks since Hope and Derek had made their relationship official.

It's a gradual growth, this love.

Regarding the night they'd been intimate, it was as far as they went. They spent the remainder of the night talking until they were both too tired to continue. His touch could send her to places she'd never visited, but despite that raging instinct and insatiable lust, they knew it wasn't yet time. They both had something in common, something they both struggled with each day.

Trust.

Hope didn't want this relationship to be built on the fire of her instincts alone. It scared them both, offering more than their bodies to each other. And that was okay. Hope didn't mind waiting until they felt more in tune with each other. In fact, the terrible aching in her chest had diminished tremendously ever since she and Derek shared that first kiss.

As they grew closer, this love blossomed into a full-on rose bush. It filled her with soft, silk petals that fluttered in her rib cage whenever her thoughts drifted to him.

Hope felt those petals as she lay half propped on her couch, back supported by a fluffed pillow and a book in her hands. It had been so long since she sat down to read for pleasure. Not searching through grimoires, training manuals, or anything else Elijah threw in her direction.

Wool socks, hot coffee, and a good book. How could today be better?

The front door opened and closed quickly, Derek's distinct, mouthwatering scent following.

Oh, that's how. Hope smiled softly.

Derek stepped into the living room and looked at her on the couch with those tired eyes he'd held the last couple of days. He'd been dealing with preparation for the full moon that was to be tonight.

She'd offered to help, but he had quickly rejected it. Though he knew she was capable of great things, she had a feeling that he didn't want to risk her safety with his pack and the full moon. Especially since they'd gained a new member just a week ago, he'd be more challenging to control than the others.

Hope watched Derek cross the room to the couch, but he didn't sit down. Instead, he moved, so he was lying on top of her. His head pushed her shirt up, nestling below her bra before pressing his face against her abdomen. Then his cheek and ear, likely to listen to her heartbeat. The soft scruff on his face felt wildly pleasant.

Blinking in silent surprise, Hope set her book down and stroked her fingers lightly through his hair. Up and down his back. Offering him as much comfort as she could. He shifted himself further up, nearly resting against her breasts, his fingers drawing small patterns in her side. His entire body laid out on hers, melting into hers.

They were both still and quiet for the longest time. Hope knew in the wolf community, at least hers, it was often mates who found comfort in skin-to-skin contact such as this. Especially with particularly vulnerable areas such as the abdomen and throat. And she wasn't uncomfortable; it was like wearing a security blanket.

Finally, she broke the silence, still running her fingers through his hair and over the back of his neck. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I might...not always be able to help, but I can always listen."

His sigh was soft and warm against her belly, waiting a moment longer before looking up at her. Chin resting between her breasts.

Still, she stroked his hair.

"I'm just...tired." He mumbled softly.

With a frown, Hope nodded and stroked cool fingers under his eyes. The dark circles he had grown over the last couple of days suggested he may not have even slept since last she saw him. Two days of no sleep was not good, even for a werewolf. She also had a feeling he was tired in more than one sense of the term.

She rubbed slow circles into his ribs and watched him visibly shudder.

It wasn't long before Derek fell asleep on top of her, but Hope didn't mind. She liked being his safe place.

When Derek opened his eyes again, over an hour had passed. Hope had absolutely no defense against those green pools. She offered him a sip of her now-cold coffee and stretched when he sat up. She hadn't moved, hadn't changed positions for over an hour, but that discomfort had diminished so quickly seeing Derek refreshed.

Sometimes you just need a nap to conquer the rest of the day.

Hope moved to him, taking his arm, and smiled as she leaned against his side. "So here's what I'm thinking."

"Hm?" he smiled a little, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"We are going to go out and eat. It's lunch, and I want a burger. I have yet to set foot in a restaurant in this town and...I want to."

Derek chuckled deep in his throat and nodded, squeezing their hands together. "I could go for a burger" he nodded, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "And thank you..." he murmured.

Biting her lip, she nodded, pressing her forehead to his "You're welcome, my button."

Derek opened his eyes with the most peculiar expression, humor in them as his lips formed into a smile.

"What..?"

Hope laughed and hid her face into his bicep, peeking at him with a grin. "I need to get dressed" she sprung up and quickly started for the stairs.

"You called me a button."

Hope giggled the whole way up and was still suppressing laughter as she got dressed. She just couldn't help it. Happy people nicknamed their alpha male boyfriends, so that's what she did.

When Hope was ready to go, Derek was already in his car waiting for her. She walked out to the sleek black vehicle and slipped in. As much as she liked Stiles' jeep, this didn't smell like stale french fries.

She watched the town go by. It seemed so normal. Could it have only been a couple of weeks ago that she set fire to a warehouse? Two weeks of silence. They hadn't reached out, hadn't painted her door with a red X. As far as she knew, they'd given up the fight. Maybe they'd discovered who she was and that threatening Klaus Mikaelson's daughter wasn't the wisest move.

Hope sighed.

Maybe his status as the big bad hybrid could actually do her some good.

When they pulled into a parking space at Barney's Burgers, Derek cut the engine and looked over at her with a raised brow and knowing eyes.

"What?" Hope asked with a slight frown.

"You know how you said I can tell you anything?" Derek nodded, pursing his lips, "That goes both ways."

Hope took a breath and leaned back, pursing her lips into a thin line. There was no escape from those eyes that didn't just watch but dug into her.

"My dad has a bad reputation, you know. I always hated it..." she bit her lip, "That came out wrong. I love being his daughter, but I hate the role that comes with it. Now I'm starting to think it's not such a bad thing. To have a nightmare standing behind you when the world eagerly wants to take a bite.

"I didn't underestimate my desire for my own life, but maybe I was too quick to shed his reputation. It could be beneficial, I think."

That sounded so selfish. To use her father's reputation to suit her better interest. To scare her enemies away with gory stories of his past. Even if he didn't mind, it still felt wrong.

"People say my father is a monster, but he's not. He's a powerful man living in fear. Desperate people do desperate things. But powerful, desperate people..." she looked over at him, "They rule the world."

Derek stroked the back of her hand with his thumb lightly. "Have you called him lately?"

"Briefly," Hope nodded, "There was some kind of trouble in the quarter, and we...didn't exactly leave on the best exchange of words."

"And you haven't told him about the hunters?"

Hope practically snorted and shook her head. "If I did that, this town would be rubble by now. I can't tell him. I can't tell any of them..." she looked down at their hands. "But I have you," she smiled fondly.

Derek nodded with equal warmth. "You'll always have me."

The diner wasn't five stars, but it wasn't bad. It was clean, and it smelled lovely. Maybe more than nice, the fries on table three made Hope's mouth water.

They sat in one of the booths by the window and talked in hushed tones.

"I know you would rather me not be there, but...."

"Hope," Derek cut her off and shook his head as worry creased his brow, "No. I'm sorry, I am, but that's something I can't risk."

"What if I-"

"No."

Hope's shoulders dropped, as did the subject.

"I'm not-" he began and stopped, seeming to bite his own tongue.

"You're not what?" Hope asked with an arched brow.

"I'm not worried about them hurting you, Hope."

Hope was stunned to silence. Derek wasn't worried about her safety.

No, he was concerned about...their safety.

She started to open her mouth to argue. She would never hurt them. Not ever. Even if Erica grated her nerves sometimes. But before she could, he interjected.

"The rush of adrenaline can sometimes be too much for anyone, and as much as I trust you and your judgment, when they start running at you at top speed, I can't take the risk that you wouldn't act instinctively. Just as anyone else would. Just as I would if I'd never seen that transformation before."

His gaze was so sincere that she knew he meant what he said. Hope could lie to herself all day and say she could handle it, but she supposed, in reality, she'd never know unless face to face with it. To Derek, the risk wasn't worth the reward. She could respect that. So she dropped it.

Not long later, their food was placed in front of them. They were both ravenous by this time and didn't hesitate to dig in. Hope reached for her red, semi-clear cup and took a big drink through the straw.

What felt like burning acid ran down her throat and threw her into a coughing fit. She coughed out as much as possible, but some had gone down.

Derek sat up straight as an arrow and dropped his food, leaning close to her now.

"What's wrong?" his eyes darted over her face, which she was sure was bright red.

Hope sucked in a sharp, painful breath and picked up the cup, looking inside and spotted purple petals swirling in the liquid. Her stomach clenched as nausea rose to the back of her throat.

"Wolfsbane..." she looked up at him. "Check your cup."

He did, but he didn't have the flower. Only hers.

Hope scanned the diner, and her eyes landed on a man. Sitting in the far corner. Watching her.

He had a black trench coat, gloves, and matching scarf. His hair was neatly styled, his face finely trimmed. Silky smooth aside from one jagged scar across his cheekbone under his left eye. He was smiling at her. No...smirking. He was handsome, and she imagined he'd be a smooth talker. Would he speak with a Scottish accent?

He stared her down with dark eyes that held something terrifying.

Knowledge.

This man was different than the other she'd killed. This man wasn't a pretender, and he didn't fly by the seat of his pants. Instead, he wore a calculating expression. One she'd seen in Elijah's eyes...in Klaus' eyes.

Fear trickled down Hope's spine as she started to rise without realizing it. "Let's go..." she said, feeling sickly, not just from the wolfsbane she'd ingested. She needed to get somewhere to let it wear off, and she didn't want to be under the man's watchful eye.

Derek moved with her, shielding her as he left a stack of uncounted bills on the table behind. His searching eyes cut through the diner like a searing blade, but the man had vanished.

The war hadn't ended, Hope realized. It was just the beginning.