There was a lot about Erica Reyes that people didn't know. The main thing? She was what psychologists called "Skin Hungry". A childhood with parents that were never around and her teenage years spent in exile for whatever the reason meant the young woman didn't get touched nearly enough as a person should. That craving for simple human touch, an affection that she wasn't familiar with even now, was part of what had her holding on to him so tightly.
The other part was just because it was Stiles.
When he shifted their position so that he was just holding her and asked his question, Erica shrugged, arms resting atop his shoulders. "About two days ago. It's so weird. One minute I'm bleeding out on a bank vault floor and the next, I'm looking up at trees. I don't know who, but someone brought me to one of the hospitals here and they stitched me up. Not even sure how that happened either..." As far as Erica knew, Alpha wounds were pretty lethal when delivered in the manner Kali had. The memory of it still made her shudder.
"What about you? You're—you seem different." Erica couldn't put her finger on it, but Stiles was... he wasn't much different, but there was definitely a difference. It didn't take away from who he was, Erica was pretty sure nothing could manage that, but there was just... something.