When Stiles attempted to move away, Derek gripped him tighter, pulled him closer. "Don't argue with me," he said, sharply, hoping his tone would get the boy's attention, draw him out of his self-pity. "You're not listening to me. It doesn't matter how conflicted you are. Isaac's a werewolf, but also a slave. I'm a Master, but also a beta to my sister. Don't you get it? You fit right in. And more to the point, I want you here." He rested his forehead against Stiles', rubbed his cheek lightly against the teenager's. "And you want to be here."