Derek moved across the room and reached across the table to fist his hand in Stiles' shirt, haul him across the table until their faces were inches apart. "Wrong answer," he said, in a low voice. "Now we have to do this the hard way."
The thing was, for all his growling and generally grouchy demeanor, Derek didn't particularly enjoy disciplining slaves. Actually disciplining them. Sure, he'd whip them or spank them, but when it came to trying to make a slave obey him? He was out of his depth. So while he knew that if Stiles was going to avoid him, and lie to him, that he needed to do something to stop it, he wasn't entirely sure what he should do.
He was hoping that physical intimidation would do the trick.