If Stiles could smell it, Dara was really in trouble. But then there was a spike in the pheromones coming from him and it was almost like he knew what was going on without knowing at all. That was just like a human, she thought, to be slower on the uptake when the rest of his body was already in overdrive because it knew what was going on here.

"It's just me," she said in a low voice, breath hitching when he leaned in toward her.

The tone in his voice when he seemed to freeze caught Dara's attention and she shifted her weight uncomfortably, because it went straight to her panties, that jealousy hiding behind the words. "You can do my wolfy thing it if you want," she told him, fully aware of the suggestive hint in the word choice as she took a few steps toward him. "Provided you figure out what it is on your own," she added in a sultry voice that she barely even recognized as her own. Goddammit, Deaton was so dead. So dead after this.