“Are there any like… supernatural hang-outs? Super secret clubs where we could find a coven?”
“Why would I want to hang out in a club with people who can magically control me?” Derek asks.
“I don’t know, I don’t understand any of your life choices,” Stiles admits. “It seemed right up your self-destructive alley.”
Derek gives him an incredulous look. “You know who else hangs out in a self-destructive alley? A human who constantly sticks his nose into werewolf pack business.”
“I’m Scott’s self-elected Watcher,” Stiles says stiffly. “You’ve met him. He’d be lost without me. And probably dead. Lying in a ditch, for sure. Just like certain other werewolves that shall not be named.”