Once they get deeper into the trees and the light from the moon gets dimmer, Derek slows and falls into step with her, nudging her in the right direction. She asks about his tattoo and he swallows hard, feeling a slight shiver between his shoulder blades.

"It's a triskele," Derek explains, voice a lot more serious and deep than it was a moment ago. "It was my pack's symbol. I got it for my family when I lived in New York."

Sometimes it still surprises him, just how open he's become here. He so easily shares information that he would have kept so guarded back home. In Darrow, it doesn't seem like there's much of a point. Everyone here has their own problems. Their own secrets. Derek being a wolf doesn't seem like that big of a deal.

Plus, a part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge wonders if maybe this is growing up. If it means that he's healing.