The last light of the day painted the sky in shades of orange and pink as we pulled up to our new sanctuary. The house stood proudly amidst the quiet of Forks, Washington, a hidden gem tucked away from prying eyes and idle chatter. It was our fortress, our haven, a place where Peter and I could thrive away from the world's scrutiny.

"Home sweet home, sweetheart," Peter announced, his voice echoing with a warmth that filled the spacious entryway. He swung the door open with a flourish, revealing the interior that we had chosen together, a perfect blend of comfort and style.

The house was beautiful and so us, but it was more than just a structure; it was a promise of new beginnings, of peace after the storms we had weathered. It was large, with enough rooms to host our pack, each one soundproofed-a necessity for the privacy of our friends and their...nighttime activities.

I couldn't help but laugh as I walked past the living room, the memories of our past adventures mingling on the wall within the frames filling me with the anticipation of those yet to come. I slid the sliding doors that led into the backyard open, stepping out into the backyard that was nothing short of paradise.

The expanse of green stretched out before us, merging seamlessly with the forest that bordered our property. It was a clear call to the wild, a perfect playground for those who ran on four legs under the moonlit sky. This can truly become a place where our pack would and could grow, where Peter, as their Alpha, would lead them into a future filled with hope.

I turned to Peter, my eyes taking in the man who had become my everything. "It's perfect," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the love and happiness for their future together to come.

Peter stepped up beside me, his presence a solid reassurance. "It's ours," he replied, his hand finding mine. "Every tree, every blade of grass, it's a part of our territory now."

I squeezed his hand, feeling the strength that coursed through him. "And the pack? They're going to love it here."

"They will for those who are here now and those that will come," he agreed, a note of pride in his tone as he took in their landscape and now territory. "And we'll be ready for them, for anything."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the house behind us stood tall, a silent sentinel in the encroaching night. Our new life was just beginning, and as I looked up at the stars beginning to dot the sky, I knew that no matter what the future held, we were home.

Together, we stepped back inside, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The night was ours, and so was this place-our home, our heart, our haven. And as we moved through the house, each room whispered of the stories yet to unfold, of the laughter and love that would fill these walls.

We had left Beacon Hills behind, but we carried its lessons with us. And here, in this new world, we would build something beautiful, something lasting. For we were more than just survivors; we were creators of our destiny, architects of our joy.

The twilight hours wrapped around our new home like a cloak, the shadows dancing at the edges of the forest that bordered our land. Inside, the warmth of the hearth fought back the evening chill, casting a soft glow over the walls that now held our future.

Stiles, never one to let things undone with the spark that had ignited more than just magic, started to move through the house with purpose. His fingers trailed along the walls, his murmurs weaving spells of protection, defense and safety. The wards he cast were intricate, a taste of power that would shield us from the eyes of the world and the threats that lurked beyond our borders.

With each incantation that stiles casted, the air grew thick with the scent of ozone, the spark within him igniting the very essence of the wards. He wove a version of the notice-me-not charms, a clever adaptation from the tales of wizards and witches we both held dear. Our home became a fortress, invisible to those who would do us harm, a haven that only those we trusted could find.

As the last of the spells took hold, Stiles turned to me, his eyes alight violet and silver with a hint of black as they reverted back to his honey amber color eyes feeling satisfied with the success of his work. He crossed the room in strides, the distance between him and I disappearing as if it had never been there at all. His lips met mine in a kiss that was filled with both triumph and love, passionate and deep, his tongue intertwining with mine filled of promise of what's to come.

I couldn't resist the urge to tease, even as my heart raced with the intensity of his kiss. "Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" I whispered against his lips, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

Stiles pulled back, laughter in his eyes. "For you, I could conjure up anything," he replied, his voice husky with emotion.

We stood there, in the heart of our new home, surrounded by the magic of Stiles' making and the love that bound us together. Outside, the wards pulsed with energy, a silent sentinel against the night.

PETER'S POV
Peter's gaze was locked onto Stiles, his husband, who was weaving magic around their new home. The wards Stiles was placing weren't just any wards - they were a complex mix of offensive, Protective and defensive spells, even incorporating a version of the elusive 'Notice-Me-Not' charm from the Harry Potter universe. It was a sight to behold, and Peter was utterly entranced.

Stiles moved from room to room, to the front and to their expanded, large green backyard with a grace that was captivating, his fingers dancing in the air as he muttered incantations under his breath. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a testament to the complexity of the task at hand. Yet, there was a certain ease to his movements, a testament to his mastery over his spark and magic.

Peter, already in a heightened state of anticipation, could feel his desire mounting. The sight of Stiles, so powerful and determined...and those long fingers and that mouth, stirred the wolf within him. His eyes, glowing a vibrant red, were a clear indicator of his mood.

As Stiles finished setting the wards and turned to meet Peter's gaze, a spark passed between them. It was a silent promise, an unspoken agreement that the rest of the night would be dedicated to them and their love. Stiles' teasing only added fuel to the fire, and Peter was more than ready to rise to the challenge.

As they moved towards their bedroom, the anticipation was palpable. The promise of a night filled with passion and their unconditional love was all they needed. And as the door closed behind them, they knew that the rest of the night would be long and dedicated to their love for each other. The sounds of pleasure and whispers of love that filled their home were a clear indicator of the depth of their bond as mates and husbands. And they wouldn't have it any other way.