"I don't think anybody knows whose pack they belong to anymore," Stiles admitted, including himself in that statement without quite thinking about it. "Not even now that things have calmed down a little."

When they pause after pushing through the lobby doors, Stiles scuffs a hand through his hair and shoots Isaac a sideways glance.

"I think it's going to be Scott," he admits, pride and distaste both mingling in his voice. "Derek's screwed so much stuff up, and Scott…" He briefly faltered, face going pinched. "He's apparently got this thing, this born alpha thing that happens once in a zillion years, so hey, not much choice."