Derek's breath catches when Thomas touches his claws, surprised by the actual contact. It makes him feel like maybe Thomas doesn't think he's a monster. He doesn't want Thomas to look at him like a Griever, or something meant to torture him inside that maze.

"This would all make a lot more sense if you knew anything about the hierarchy of wolves," Derek says with a soft chuckle, watching Thomas' fingers glide over his claws with something like fascination. When Thomas pulls his hand away, Derek drops his and lets his claws retract. "They travel in packs, usually. An alpha is a pack leader, and betas make up the rest of the pack."

Derek turns on the rock, twisting so that Thomas can see the triskele tattooed between his shoulder blades. "Werewolves are like that. This was my pack's symbol."