Chapter Text
Jacob POV
The door slammed against its frame with enough force to send tremors through every window in the house. A picture frame tilted askew on the wall, but I ignored it completely. Billy remained motionless at the kitchen table, nursing his half-empty coffee mug with infuriating composure, as if I hadn't just burst through the entrance like a man possessed.
"Planning to demolish the place, or would you prefer conversation?" he asked without lifting his gaze from the newspaper he was obviously not reading.
Ignoring him, I started pacing around the living room, my frustration only growing with each step. Sam's words kept echoing in my mind: “If she really mattered, you would’ve told her.” My hands clenched into fists at the memory, digging into my palms as rage threatened to take over. The urge to smash something was so intense, but I couldn’t let that happen, not when Dad was around. But the anger was building up, and I couldn’t hold it back; the words just flew out of my mouth.
“He accused me of letting her fall into this mess,” I snapped, turning on my heel to face him. “That I didn’t care enough to tell her the truth.”
That got Billy's attention. He set down his mug, his eyes locking onto mine with that steady gaze of his.
"Sam said that?"
Grunting an affirmation, I resumed my pacing, my fingers through my messy hair. "He’s falling apart, Dad. He’s hiding behind his Alpha title, as if that makes him in the right. Meanwhile, Bella is suffering, and he acts like it’s none of our business."
Billy didn’t try to argue, “Sit.”
“I don’t wanna to sit,” I shot back. “I want to break something.”
“Then sit before you do.”
Something in his tone cut through my rage, and I collapsed into the chair across from him, every muscle in me tense and ready to snap.
"I've got to talk to the council," I said, my voice charged with urgency, "They need to know what’s happening here. Sam’s sitting on his hands, and I won’t just stand back and watch her disappear."
Billy picked up his coffee, moved slowly like he was savoring every drop, then set it down with a quiet clink. "I’ve already brought it to the council’s attention."
That stopped me short. “Wait… what?”
He nodded once, calm as ever. "Twice, actually."
I just stared at him in disbelief. "And what did they say?"
“They’re hesitant,” Billy said slowly, eyes steady. “The council’s never faced anything like this before. It’s uncharted territory, and that makes them cautious, maybe too cautious.”
My stomach turned. “So they’re just… waiting?”
“They’re just being cautious. It’s not that they don’t care; they’re just confused about what we’re actually up against,”
“That's complete garbage!” I pushed my chair back, the legs screeching against the floor. “They go on and on about the sanctity of imprinting and how important it is to protect human life from bloodsuckers. Bella is both of those things.”
Billy didn’t change his expression, but I could see something softer in his eyes. “Jake, don’t mix up hesitation with apathy. Bella means a lot to everyone: me, the council, and it’s not just because of your connection. I’ve watched her grow up, you know? She was just a little girl when she started coming around. I can still picture her trailing after Charlie, curled up on this couch during our Sunday games. She’s not just your imprint, she’s family, and Charlie’s worried sick.”
His heartfelt words deflated my anger, and I sank back into my seat, my frustration fading. "It feels like we’ve already lost her," I admitted, my voice cracking like glass.
"I get that feeling," Billy said softly, his gaze steady on me. "But we can’t jump to conclusions. We need to think this through; emotions can’t drive our choices right now. What we need is solid proof."
I ran my hand through my hair again, trying to shake off the tension coursing through me. "No way am I going to sit back and wait until she’s gone for good before we finally do something. Enough is enough."
Billy's gaze locked onto mine, steady and unwavering. "Listen, Jacob," he said, his voice firm. "You need to act intelligently. Channel that rage into something useful, build a solid case. Show the council the undeniable truth of what's happening here."
I stayed quiet, but resentment boiled inside me. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right.
His eyes drifted toward the window, where the first light of dawn broke through the trees.
"I’ve been thinking about Charlie," he said after a long pause, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "If this thing goes south… if Bella doesn’t get better…" I could see his jaw tighten. "I might have to tell him everything."
The shock hit me hard. I couldn't find the words.
"He's already closing in on the truth," Billy continued, a weight to his tone. "You heard him on the phone. He knows something’s wrong, and if he thinks no one's paying attention, no one's got his back…" He shook his head slowly, frustration etched on his face. "Charlie’s a good man, but when desperation sets in, he might do something he'll regret."
The impact of his words felt heavy between us.
“I don’t want to blindside him,” Billy said. “But I’m not going to stand by and watch her get swallowed whole either. Not for tradition. Not for secrecy.”
I let out a shaky breath, my chest tight with emotion. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I had someone in my corner.
The adrenaline from earlier was wearing off, leaving me drained and achy. My legs felt like they were made of lead, and my head throbbed like a drum. Sleep had evaded me for more than twenty-four hours.
Like he read my mind, he said, “You should sleep.”
For once, I didn’t argue. I just stood up and walked toward the hallway, exhaustion settling behind my eyes like weights, dragging me down.
Just before reaching my room, I hesitated and turned back slightly.
"Wake me if anything happens," I called over my shoulder.
“You have my word,” he promised.
Sleep had completely ditched me, leaving me wrestling with exhaustion that felt like it was dragging my bones down to the floor. I crashed hard, and even when I finally managed to drift off, my dreams turned into a chaotic mess.
Bella stood at the cliff’s edge. I screamed her name, but she didn’t look back; she just stepped off, slipping silently into the dark sea below. Edward waited beneath the waves, eyes black as night. My legs refused to move, stuck to the earth while she drowned.
I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, and that burning imprint under my ribs felt like a warning that something was seriously wrong.
Then came the pounding on my door. There were hard, frantic knocks that had me sitting up before I could even process what was happening.
Another bang followed, and I heard Billy’s voice, quieter than usual but shaking enough to send chills down my spine. “Jacob. It’s Angela. You need to take this call.”
My stomach dropped.
I stumbled out of bed, kicking aside a crumpled shirt as I reached for the door handle. Billy was already holding it out for me on the other side, his expression was unreadable, but tense in a way that made my pulse spike.
“She’s crying,” he said. “I don’t even think she knows what she’s saying.”
I snatched up the phone, my heart racing. "Angela?"
Her sobs were choking, and it took a long moment before any words broke through.
"Angela, hey—it’s Jake. What happened? Please, just talk to me."
Her breath hitched violently on the other end. “I—I tried, I—I tried to talk to her—I thought I could—Jake, she didn’t even know—she forgot you—she forgot you. ” The last word cracked completely.
The wind howled faintly behind her voice. Angela was outside, maybe in the school parking lot. "No, wait—she didn’t forget you," Angela rushed out, desperate for me to understand. "It wasn’t like that. Not exactly."
I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles turned white, my heart pounding against my ribs. I couldn't find the words to respond.
“I said your name, and she just… paused,” Angela continued, voice shaking. “She stared at me like she knew it mattered but couldn’t figure out why. ”
I shut my eyes, feeling a wave of despair wash over me. That was worse than just forgetting.
"I asked her what was going on, told her she wasn't herself. She looked right at me and said, 'I’m just having trouble focusing lately.' " Angela’s voice broke completely.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, the weight of her words crashing over me. It felt like a truck hit me. It was the confirmation of what I’d been trying to deny, what I didn’t want to believe.
“I thought maybe it was stress, or being overwhelmed,” Angela went on, words tumbling now, faster, more frantic. “But Jacob, it wasn’t just that. Her face was… wrong. Like she was trying to push through something, and every time she got close, it slipped away again.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And then Alice showed up.”
My hand gripped the phone so hard I heard cracks, but I couldn't be bothered to care.
"She didn’t even seem bothered,” Angela continued. “When Alice got close, Bella went completely still. Like someone hit pause, she just nodded and walked away like nothing even happened." I could hear the gravel crunching as she paced. "I followed them to the parking lot. She got into Edward’s car without looking back. No wave, no goodbye. Just got in and left."
"And I don’t know why, but the moment they drove away, I just started crying. I didn’t even realize it until it felt like I couldn’t breathe."
Her voice cracked again. "Something's wrong with her, Jake. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s like someone is... controlling her. And she doesn’t even know it." There was a pause, and I could hear how shaky her breathing was. "It doesn’t feel right. None of it feels natural."
I wanted to respond, but the words were stuck in my throat like a rock. My head felt like it was about to explode.
Angela must’ve thought my silence meant I doubted her because she sniffled and said, "I know I probably sound insane. I just... I had to tell someone. Guess I’ll talk to you later—"
“Angela, wait, don’t hang up yet.” I jumped up, pacing the small space by my bed, gripping the broken phone like it was a lifeline. "What you saw… It’s important. More than you realize. You’re not in this alone."
Silence lingered on the line.
"I’ve appreciated all the details you have been giving me. I swear I haven’t given up. I would never."
“Have you talked to her dad?” She asked quietly.
“Yes and no. There are things he doesn’t understand, things I can’t tell him or you, for that matter.”
“Jake,” she said softly, uncertain. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t explain it over the phone. Not yet. But I need you to come to La Push. Today, if you can. Please.”
“I—”
"I just need you to tell some people exactly what you told me," I urged, my voice cracking a bit. "Word for word. Every little detail. There’s so much more going on than you think, and if they hear it straight from you… It could really help. It could change everything."
There was a long pause, and I could hear her breathing, shaky but steadying. "You’re scaring me," she whispered.
“I know,” I said. “I’m scared, too.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “I’ll come.”
Relief washed over me, tension easing just enough for me to breathe again. "Thank you. Just call me when you’re on your way. I’ll make sure someone’s here for you." I hurriedly gave her my address.
She hung up, and I stood there, the phone still pressed to my ear, feeling a rush of adrenaline. When I finally set it down, my hands were still shaking.
Billy was waiting in the hallway, and his expression was like stone. He rolled forward a bit and spoke in that low, serious voice of his, his Chief voice.
“You can’t tell Angela.”
"I know that," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shove down the rising panic. "Of course I know that. I’m not an idiot."
Billy fell silent for a moment, and the tension in the air felt thick enough to cut.
"I'm not going to tell her about the pack," I pressed. "Not the legends. Not the imprint. Nothing. I just need her to talk. That's all. She's seen something, and she’s scared. She should be."
Billy’s jaw clenched in that way that told me he was weighing every word. “It’s dangerous. Even dancing around the truth is dangerous.”
"She’s already in this, Dad," I said, my voice rising. "She’s already tangled up in whatever this is, whether we like it or not. And if what she said is even half true, we’re running out of time."
We locked eyes for what felt like forever, and then Billy let out a slow breath through his nose, rubbing his forehead like what he had to say physically hurt him.
“You’re right.”
I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
“You’re right,” he repeated.
My heart raced, disbelief washing over me.
Billy looked up, weariness in his eyes. "Just be smart about this. Don’t let it get out of hand."
"I won't," I promised. "But I’m done just waiting around while Bella fades away."
The second I pushed through the door, I broke into a run.
I skipped the usual route through the woods. There was a thin line of trees behind the house that led straight to the beach, just thick enough to cover what I needed to do. I let the heat take over as I yanked off my shirt, shoving down my shorts without slowing. My bare feet hit the pine needles, and then I was losing myself to the change, my body reshaping, fur bursting forth as I settled into my four legs, ready to move.
Sam.
His mental voice snapped into focus almost immediately. What is it?
I need you and Embry at my house in an hour. Please.
There was a beat of silence.
Fine. We’ll be there.
***
Half an hour later, I was wearing a groove into the front porch boards, pacing back and forth like the caged wolf I was. Every few seconds, I’d glance down the road, my heart pounding harder than it should for just waiting on a car.
Where the hell was she?
Finally, I heard a car coming down the lane towards the house.
I was off the porch before the headlights even rounded the bend. A beat-up gray sedan crunched into our gravel drive, and before it came to a full stop, the passenger door swung open.
Angela was out before the engine cut, her seatbelt barely flung off. She ran straight toward me.
Not just walking, not even hurrying. She was full-on sprinting.
"Jacob—!" Her voice cracked right in the middle of my name.
She flung her arms around me like we were old friends, like we’d known each other our whole lives instead of meeting once under those messed-up circumstances. It threw me off how much she trusted me, how desperate she was for someone to listen to her.
Her whole body was shaking, not just from nerves, but the kind of trembling that goes bone-deep when panic sets in. I raised my hands for a moment, not sure what to do, but then instinct kicked in.
"Hey," I said quietly, steadying her with my hands on her shoulders. "You're okay. You made it." But even as I said it, I could tell if she was this shaken, things with Bella were way worse than I’d imagined.
Behind her, the driver’s door opened, and Ben Cheney climbed out, looking totally lost. When our eyes met, he shook his head slightly.
"She's been like this since school ended," he muttered. "Wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. Just kept saying she had to get here." He shrugged, but I could see Angela’s panic was freaking him out too.
I kept my voice calm. "You did the right thing bringing her."
Angela’s eyes were wide and glassy, still caught in the aftermath of her panic.
"I mean it," I said, softer this time. "You're not losing it. You’re paying attention when everyone else is looking away. And we’re gonna figure this out."
She nodded, looking a bit shaky, and I couldn’t help but feel a little protective.
I turned to Ben, who was lingering behind her, arms crossed tight over his chest like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here or not.
"Come on in, both of you," I said, hoping to ease the tension.
I opened the door and stepped aside as they walked in.
I opened the door wide, letting them step inside. Billy was in the living room, just like always, with a half-empty coffee mug in hand. His eyes snapped up as the door clicked shut behind us.
"Dad, this is Angela and Ben. They go to school with Bella," I introduced them.
"Well, it’s good to meet you both," Billy said, flashing one of his comforting smiles. Almost instantly, I could see the tightness in their shoulders ease up a bit. That was just Dad, he had a way of making people feel at home, even when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.
Angela managed a nervous smile in return, but her hands were still fidgeting, almost like they had a mind of their own.
“Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the couch. “You want something to drink? Water? Coffee?”
“Water’s good,” Angela murmured, still clearly shaken.
As I was crossing the kitchen, Ben followed me. I could sense he wanted to say something away from Angela, so I slowed my movements. He stepped closer, keeping his voice down and glancing back at Angela.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he whispered, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Didn’t want to freak her out more than she is.”
"But I've got a class with Bella," he continued, his voice low. "And last week... she just started panicking for no reason. Just froze up completely. It was like she couldn’t get air. Looked terrified of something."
My jaw tightened at his words. "What happened then?" I asked, my protective instincts flaring.
"Edward was right there, like he always is," Ben said, clearly frustrated. "He just started rubbing her back, real slow, right in the middle where her shoulder blades meet." He swallowed hard, like it was tough to get the words out. "And Bella just went completely still, like a switch flipped. I thought it was strange back then, but ever since Angela started pointing things out... I can’t shake the feeling it’s happening way too often just to be a coincidence."
Ben stepped back, taking a drink of the water I handed him, while I studied his expression, looking for any sign that he might have more to say.
He glanced down, avoiding my gaze. "Look... I've never gotten a good vibe from the Cullens. Not once. But Bella seemed genuinely happy with Edward before they took off last year. Now, though..." His voice dropped lower, heavy with concern. "I don’t know her well enough, but I agree with Angela. Something's really off. She doesn’t seem happy at all."
Ben’s words weren’t a surprise. Not really. I’d felt it for weeks. But hearing someone else say it, someone outside all of this, someone who didn’t know the legends, or what the Cullens really were, and still saw it? That twisted the knife.
Even Charlie was missing the signs. Sure, he sensed something was off, but not in the same way. He wasn’t connecting the dots like Ben and Angela were. Not about them.
"Thanks for sharing that," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Can you tell my friends when they get here?"
Ben looked a bit confused, maybe even uneasy, but nodded. "Yeah, sure."
***
About thirty minutes later, I felt Sam's approach before I even heard him. I could tell he’d brought Embry, just like I asked, but there were two others with him, Quil and Leah.
The knock on the door wasn’t really a knock, just one solid hit that rattled the whole frame.
Sam’s body was a coil of tension, ready to snap. His jaw clenched so tightly that it looked bruised; his eyes were sharp and restless as they flicked past me into the room. Every muscle screamed restraint, but the storm beneath was unmistakable.
Embry was right behind him, hands shoved deep into his pockets, trying to look cool but quickly shifting gears when he caught my expression. Quil followed close behind, eyebrows raised, and quickly picked up on the tension in the air. Leah brought up the rear, her expression unreadable.
I stepped aside, trying to keep my cool. "Come in."
Sam’s eyes had that sharp intensity to them, like they could cut through anything. But he walked in without a word, the rest of the pack following in with a lot more caution than usual.
Angela sat up straighter on the couch, her whole body going rigid. Ben instinctively shifted closer to her, and honestly, who could blame him? With Sam and the rest of the guys towering over them, plus Leah’s trademark glare, it wasn’t a welcoming scene at all.
Sam just gave them a tiny nod, acknowledging they were there but nothing more.
Embry didn’t shift his gaze from me; he was scanning my face like I was holding the answers to a puzzle he needed to solve.
Dad welcomed them in. “Quil. Leah. Sam,' he said evenly. 'Have a seat.” I was grateful he was taking charge; it made dealing with Sam a bit easier. Sam had a lot of respect for my dad, even when he acted like a stubborn jerk about everything else.
“Sam,” I said, finally closing the door behind them. “Thanks for coming.”
Sam finally locked eyes with me, but his smile was tight, like it barely existed. “You said it was urgent.”
“It is.”
“Well?” he pushed, his tone a thinly veiled demand for me to hurry it up. That really got under my skin. This wasn’t just a casual drop-in; Bella was in deep trouble, and he was acting like I was wasting his precious time. I took a breath, trying to stay focused.
“I called Jacob again,” Angela’s voice cut in, trembling and thick with emotion. “There’s something seriously wrong with the Cullens. Bella’s not herself, and it’s getting worse.”
Billy rolled over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
I turned back to Sam, ready to unleash my frustration when I caught sight of Embry. He was staring at Angela like he’d just seen a ghost, completely knocked off balance. I must have looked as shocked as he did because Sam turned around and muttered something under his breath, clearly annoyed.
Leah let out a dark chuckle, "Wonderful."
Ben looked confused, darting his gaze between Angela, who was now staring at Embry like she'd seen a ghost, and the rest of us. "Do you two know each other?"
Embry shook his head, snapping back to whatever planet he’d been on. "Oh, um, no. Sorry. She just... looks a lot like someone I used to know. A girl named... Marie." Seriously, way to play it cool, man. Ben wasn’t buying it for a second and inched Angela closer to him.
Angela was still eyeing Embry, her brow furrowed, trying to wrap her head around the whole situation. I couldn’t blame her; it was weird.
Ben narrowed his eyes but didn’t press the issue. Just held Angela’s wrist lightly, protectively, like she might vanish if he let go.
I cleared my throat, trying to get everyone's focus back on track. "Angela, Ben," I said, forcing the words out. "Could you tell them what you mentioned to me earlier?"
Angela shot a quick glance at me, then at the group. She was clearly nervous, but she nodded anyway.
Her voice was quiet, shaky even, as she talked about the strange patterns she'd noticed in Bella's behavior around the Cullens. It was like sometimes she was acting pretty normal, and then out of nowhere, she'd zone out, all blank and distant when they got too close. She kept insisting it sounded unbelievable, that it didn’t make any sense, but I was there to reassure her. Nothing she was saying sounded insane to me; we needed every single detail.
Then Ben jumped in, backing her up. He recounted the classroom incident, how Bella had panicked out of nowhere, and how Edward had managed to calm her down just with a touch. It was like a light switch had flipped; everything changed in an instant. He had started seeing things, too, all those little details that stacked up to something way too big to just write off as a coincidence.
No one interrupted. Even Sam stayed quiet, arms crossed over his chest, mouth a tight line. Quil and Leah exchanged a glance, but didn’t speak. Embry barely breathed, but his eyes stayed locked on her as she spoke.
After they both told their stories, Angela and Ben stood, awkward and pale, the tension in the room clearly too much to bear. Angela gave me a quick, uncertain look, like she wasn’t sure if she'd done something wrong. I shook my head and stood with them.
“Thank you,” I said, walking them to the door. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Ben nodded stiffly, his brain still trying to process the mess they’d just walked into. Angela, out of nowhere, leaned in for a quick hug. I wasn’t expecting it, but I returned it, trying to ignore how much I wanted to protect them.
"We'll keep an eye on her," she whispered, her voice low and serious. "If anything else happens—"
“Call me,” I said.
"We will," Ben chimed in, his hand on her back as they stepped out onto the porch. I stayed put, watching until their taillights vanished around the corner.
Then I closed the door and turned back to face the room.
The second the door clicked shut, Sam let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it since we started. "You ambushed me," he said, clearly flustered.
"Because you aren’t taking this seriously," I shot back, taking a step forward. I wasn’t about to let this slide. "Bella’s in trouble, Sam. You saw it for yourself. You listened to what they said. People who know nothing about the supernatural are starting to catch on. You heard Angela, she said its not natural. "
“That doesn’t mean we’re authorized to act,” he snapped. “We don’t break the treaty based on a few weird observations and bad gut feelings.”
"This is way bigger than that." My hands balled into fists. "What they described is exactly what Bella told me before she took off to Italy."
Sam scoffed, dismissing me like I was just a kid throwing a tantrum.
"What?" I shot back with a hiss.
"Do you seriously think she didn’t go there of her own choice?" he retorted.
I felt red haze creeping into my vision as I stepped closer, ready to put him in his place.
“Whoa, now just hold on, Jacob.” Billy’s voice cut through the air like a crack of thunder. “Sam, that is not helpful. If Jacob says Bella told him that she felt forced to go to Italy, I believe him.”
I could see Sam's jaw twitching, but he managed to keep his mouth shut…for now.
Leah was the one who spoke up next, “I believe you.” My eyes widened at her.
Leah pushed off from the wall, her stance radiating tension as she stepped toward Sam, eyes blazing with frustration. “When I asked her what she wanted now that Edward’s back, she said she didn’t want him.” Her voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.
“Maybe you’re too caught up in your own head to see it, but I get it. When someone shatters your heart and walks away, you don’t just shrug it off and act like nothing happened. She swore she was done with him. And now? She’s chasing after him like some helpless puppy. You know exactly what those guys are capable of.”
She took another step closer. “So are you gonna man up and believe what’s right in front of your face, or are you going to keep pretending you don’t see it while that girl suffers?”
Sam looked like he’d been blindsided, like her words had found his soft spot and ripped it open. His arms hung at his sides, but the energy around him crackled, his shoulders taut, fists barely flexing. He wasn’t gearing up for a fight; he was still in the aftermath of one he’d already lost.
Finally, he let out a slow breath, "I’m not saying something isn’t off. But we’re still bound by the treaty."
Billy piped up again, his voice steady but full of weight. "We’re not asking you to break the treaty. We want you to recognize that something unnatural might be going on, and that we can’t just ignore it because it’s complicated."
I caught Quil shifting his stance out of the corner of my eye. He hadn’t said a word since he walked in, but he looked worried, arms crossed, forehead creased.
Sam stared at the floor, working it all through. His jaw was tight, and his hands flexed before going still. "I need to think about this," he finally said. "We don’t have enough solid proof. This is all... unsettling. But it’s not enough for action just yet."
Frustration clawed at my chest. “So we wait for what? Bella to vanish? To wake up one day and not even remember who she is?”
Sam shook his head. "I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m saying... maybe it’s time for someone to have a direct talk with their leader."
That stopped me cold. “A talk?”
He shrugged, “A conversation. With their leader.”
I blinked, caught off guard. That wasn't what I was expecting at all.
"You want to go alone?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around it.
Sam nodded, firm as ever. "One-on-one. No accusations. Just… questions. If something's up with Bella, I want to look him in the eye when he denies it."
Billy was thoughtful as he chimed in. "Carlisle Cullen. He's their patriarch. Always calm, direct."
I shot a glance at Quil. His face was steady, but I caught the slight nod he gave, a silent acknowledgment of support.
Then Embry leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine. "You think he'll actually admit to anything?"
"Probably not," Sam said, wiping the weariness from his face. He sank into a chair, rubbing his temples like he could push away the stress. "But it's a start."
I studied Sam, trying to read him. This wasn’t the usual brick wall; there was a shift in him, some openness I hadn’t seen for weeks. It felt good, even with the unease hanging in the air.
The room stayed quiet for a moment after Sam’s last words.
Then Billy shifted in his chair, letting out a breath that signaled the meeting was wrapping up for now. Leah, who was clearly fed up, shook her head and mumbled something about testosterone and half-baked plans before disappearing into the kitchen for a drink.
Embry was perched on the edge of the loveseat, looking tense, like he expected the ground to give way any moment. I slid in next to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
“You good?” I asked quietly.
Embry blinked, almost like he didn’t hear me at first. Then he nodded, tight and restrained. “Yeah. Just… processing everything.”
A beat of silence settled between us, then Quil cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “So, uh. About what happened earlier…”
Embry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
I locked eyes with him, needing to address it head-on. “That was an imprint, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t reply right away, just let out this long breath and rubbed his face like he was trying to erase the moment. “I just stared at her like a total idiot while she was right there with her boyfriend.”
Quil winced in response. “Yeah… I was gonna say something nice, but, you know, it was a trainwreck.”
Embry groaned louder, obviously feeling the weight of it all.
Leah reentered, glass of water in hand. One glance at Embry’s hidden face, Quil’s awkward silence, and me sitting close, and she raised a sharp eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” she said dryly, “welcome to the club. How wonderful.”
Embry peeked up, his face practically a shade of tomato. “Mhm. Thanks.”
Leah moved past us and leaned against the arm of the couch, setting her water down on the side table. “Look,” she said, arms crossed, “I’m not about to pretend that imprinting is some fairytale miracle. Honestly, half the time it looks like a trap to me.”
Quil started to speak, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“But,” she said, eyes on Embry, “I know you. You’re not the guy to bulldoze someone just because fate slapped a label on you.”
Embry looked up, surprised.
Leah shrugged, a hint of softness breaking through. “So, maybe don’t panic. You haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.”
That was about as encouraging as Leah ever got.
Embry managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Lee. I think.”
Billy rolled forward then, quiet but steady, his expression gentler than usual.
Then Billy rolled forward, quietly steady, with an unusually gentle expression on his face. “Embry,” he said, voice calm, “you don’t have to do anything right now. Don’t feel rushed by us or by the imprint. Just be present. Pay attention. Let her be who she is. That’s what matters.”
The room fell silent. Then, out of nowhere, Sam stood up violently, his chair scraping hard against the floor as he stormed out without a word. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the house.
We all just sat there for a second, staring after him.
Leah sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’d think for someone who talks about responsibility all the time, he’d be better at taking it.”
Quil snorted quietly. Embry let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite.
Outside, the trees swayed gently against the wind, the sky softening into the smoky blue of early evening. We talked quietly for a while longer, then one by one, they left.
Quil stood first, clapping Embry gently on the back as he passed. Leah gave a quick nod to Billy, her expression unreadable as always, and followed without a word. Embry lingered, as if he needed to say something but could just never quite find the words. Finally, he shot me a tight smile and headed out, the screen door clicking shut behind him.
I stayed standing in the middle of the room, hands at my sides, pulse steady but loud in my ears. Everything we’d just said was still ringing in the air.
I felt frozen in place, but every part of me was screaming to move. Not out of fear or to escape into the woods, but just to be near her. To see her face again, even if it was just through a window or catching a hint of her scent on the breeze.
I turned and headed for the door.
Stepping outside, cold air hit me hard. Damp and thick with mist, the sky hung low and gray, but I didn’t care where I was going. My feet seemed to know the way without asking.
From behind me, Dad’s voice cut through the quiet, calm, and steady. “She’ll find her way back to you, son.”
Bella POV
Edward’s car idled at the curb, the engine humming softly in the gray afternoon light. Pale light filtered through the windshield, washing everything in muted tones that made the world feel distant and dreamlike.
He turned toward me as my hand found the door handle. "I'll see you later?”
"Okay," I murmured, the word slipping out automatically.
He leaned across the space between us, his lips brushing against my forehead with that familiar, careful tenderness. There was the feeling of icy, cold, rock-hard marble on my soft skin.
"Get some rest," he said softly, and then he was gone, the car gliding away so quietly, as if it had never been there.
When I walked inside, I knew something was wrong before I saw him.
Charlie stood by the living room window with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn't turn when I closed the door behind me, nor did he acknowledge my presence at all. He just kept staring out at the empty street beyond the glass.
“You need to sit down,” he said.
My stomach dipped. “Okay,” I answered, because it was easier than asking why.
I let my backpack slide to the floor by the stairs and walked into the living room on unsteady legs. The chair seemed to pull me down with unusual force, as if gravity had suddenly decided to work against me.
Charlie finally turned around. His face was flushed red to his ears, and his expression wasn't the careful neutral mask he usually wore. It was angry, raw, and unguarded in a way that made my chest tighten with dread.
“You’re not seeing him tonight,” he said.
I blinked, confused. "What?"
"Edward." His voice was flat, final. "You're not seeing him tonight. He needs to give us space to talk and reconnect."
The words landed strangely. “I don’t understand—”
"I've tried to stay out of it." He took a step closer, his hands clenching at his sides. "I've given you space. God knows I bit my tongue harder than I wanted to when he came back. But I can't ignore it anymore."
I sat up straighter, my pulse beginning to race. "Ignore what?"
"Bella." His voice cracked slightly around my name. "How can you look me in the eye and pretend any of this is normal?"
“I’m not pretending—”
"Yes, you are!" The words exploded out of him, sharp and jagged.
I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came. The words died somewhere between my brain and my tongue, lost in the strange fog that seemed to cloud my thoughts lately.
"You barely talked for months," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "You didn't sleep. You didn't eat. You didn't even look like yourself anymore. And now what? Everything's magically fine because he says it is?"
I couldn’t answer.
"And I can't ignore how you've been treating Jacob." Charlie's voice broke slightly. "He's been trying to reach you. He calls constantly to ask me if you're okay. He was there for you when you were at your lowest, and now you just dropped him like he meant nothing."
A sudden, sharp pain lanced through my chest, so intense I almost cried out. I gasped, pressing my hand against my ribs in shock. "I just... I don't know."
Charlie's face twisted with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "I watched you climb your way out of the hole that boy put you in. I saw what it took for you to recover, all the sleepless nights, the screaming, the way you'd stare at nothing for hours. And now you're just... back in it."
He began pacing then, short and agitated strides that made his boots strike the floor harder than necessary. This wasn't like Charlie at all. I'd never seen him this angry, this uncontrolled. The realization that I was the cause of his pain made my heart swell with unexpected guilt.
"I don't get it, Bella. I really don't." He stopped and stared at me with desperate eyes. "How could you take him back after what he did to you?"
The question hit like a physical blow. I swallowed hard, but it didn't ease the tightness in my throat.
Charlie stopped pacing abruptly. He looked down at me with something raw and vulnerable flickering behind his anger.
"I know you're almost grown," he said, his voice dropping to something smaller, more fragile. "I know I can't ground you or tell you who to see anymore. But this isn't right." He paused, and then said even quieter: "I don't know what's happening to you.
He sank into the armchair across from me as if all the fight had suddenly drained out of him. His hands fell into his lap, and for the first time, I noticed how much older he looked, tired and frightened in a way that made my chest ache.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered. "Not again. Not when I just got you back."
The guilt cracked through the strange numbness that had been surrounding me like light breaking through fractured glass. My throat burned with unshed tears as I really looked at him. Charlie was trying too hard to get through to me, and it was so hard to wade through to reach him. But I would try for him.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice rough and unsteady. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Charlie's head bowed, his shoulders hunching inward as if trying to shield himself from more pain. He didn't speak, and somehow his silence said more than any words could have.
Moving off the floor, I went to sit beside him. I wasn’t sure what to do or what I could offer, but he was hurting, and I had to do something. My hand found his, and he choked back a sob. I couldn’t look him in the eye. We sat there for a while in silence, just together, and it was the most I felt like myself in weeks.
Still, there was a strange hollowness inside my chest, like a space I hadn’t noticed until now. Something important had been missing, and Charlie’s grief had carved around it like light through a closed door.
Eventually, he gave a faint, shaky sigh and wiped his face roughly with the side of his hand.
“I’ll have dinner ready in an hour. Can we sit and talk?”
After agreeing, I stood quietly and walked upstairs, one hand trailing along the bannister, not really sure what I was going to do next.
I sat on the edge of my bed in the dim light, staring at the corner of my desk. The room felt unfamiliar somehow. Or maybe I did.
I tried to trace back the last few weeks—what I’d done, what I hadn’t. The days blurred together. School. Edward. Nights at home, or sometimes not. Conversations that faded as soon as they ended. Like everything slid off me too fast to hold on to.
Why hadn't I been calling Jacob? Why had I stopped spending time with Angela? Why had I let so much slip by without even noticing? I didn't have clear answers, just the unsettling feeling that something had shifted while I wasn't paying attention, like a door left slightly ajar in the wind. Now that I'd noticed the gap, I couldn't stop seeing it.
Charlie was right about Jacob. The calls had come, again and again, and I'd never picked up the phone. Why had I done that?
The realization alone made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach. Jacob, the boy who had pulled me back from the brink, who had taught me to laugh again when I'd forgotten how, who had stood between me and literal monsters. Why would I treat him this way?
A sudden tingling sensation erupted in my chest like fireworks, followed by a powerful yanking feeling at my center that sent me tumbling to the floor. My arms caught me as I fell, and my startled gasp echoed through the silent room.
From this position on the ground, I glanced down. My wrists were bare. The spot where my bracelet had rested felt suddenly empty, a ghost warmth flickering like sunlight through leaves. Cedar smoke. Salt air. The echo of a laugh that once burned through darkness.
I gasped, a sob catching in my throat. It was gone. And with it, Jacob.
Clarity washed over me like cold water, sudden and shocking. I needed to see him.
With surprising grace, I leaped to my feet and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Charlie looked up, startled by my sudden reappearance.
"I'm going to see Jacob," I declared as I headed for the door, my entire body buzzing with an anticipation that felt foreign yet wonderful. The simple act of stating my intention aloud sent a surge of energy through my veins.
The screen door banged shut behind me as I crunched across the gravel to my truck. For the first time in what felt like weeks, I could actually breathe. The evening air tasted deliciously cool and crisp, and I gulped it down gratefully before climbing into the cab.
The familiar vinyl seat creaked its usual greeting as I slid into the driver's seat. My hands shook with pure eagerness as I thrust the key into the ignition, my mind already racing ahead to La Push, to Jacob's warm smile, to feeling like myself again.
The engine responded with a sluggish, half-hearted cough. I frowned, my excitement dimming slightly, and turned the key again. This time, I was rewarded with another weak sputter, followed by the grinding whine of a machine refusing to cooperate.
"No, no, come on!" I muttered under my breath, smacking the steering wheel with the flat of my palm.
I twisted the key again, this time with more force. The engine made a sickening grinding noise before falling completely silent.
And then…
“Bella.”
The voice came from directly beside me, and I jerked so violently that my shoulder slammed into the driver's side window. Edward sat in the passenger seat as if he'd materialized from thin air, something small and metallic catching the dying light in his pale palm. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at him, confusion mixing with a cocktail of emotions I couldn't untangle.
His voice carried that familiar smooth control. "Where are you going?"
I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat, feeling my earlier euphoria drain away like water disappearing down a storm drain. "I'm going to La Push," I managed, though the words came out weaker than I'd hoped. "To see Jacob."
His golden eyes flickered, just barely, so quickly I might have imagined it, but his expression remained carefully neutral. "The truck isn't working."
"I noticed," I snapped, relieved that my voice still carried some edge.
He tilted his head. I thought we agreed you'd stay away from the wolves. For your safety."
"I didn't agree to anything," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to his lap.
Edward's jaw tightened by perhaps a millimeter, and I caught the subtle shift of his fingers. Looking down properly, I could see the small piece of metal he held, something he'd obviously removed from under my hood. I didn't need to be a mechanic to understand what it meant.
“You disabled my truck,” I said slowly, the realization crashing through my chest like cold water.
He didn't respond immediately; instead, he studied me with that infuriating stillness that made him seem less like a person and more like a perfectly carved statue. Timeless. Immovable. Completely without remorse. It was suddenly terrifying.
Edward’s face remained carefully composed, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to do something reckless.”
I laughed, short and sharp. “Like driving ? Like seeing someone who’s been nothing but loyal to me?”
He leaned slightly forward, eyes softening like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal. “You’ve been overwhelmed lately. I’m trying to protect you, Bella.”
My jaw clenched. “By isolating me?”
His hand reached across the cab, brushing lightly against mine. The chill of his skin made me flinch. I stared at the space between us like it had become dangerous. I fought to keep my anger burning bright against the strange fog that always seemed to creep in around him. "It's not your decision who I see or when I see them, Edward."
He blinked, clearly startled. I don't think he expected me to push back.
"Why don't you trust me?" I asked, hating the pleading note that crept into my voice despite my best efforts.
"I do trust you," he insisted, but his response was too smooth, too rehearsed. "This isn't about trust. It's about safety. The wolves are unpredictable, and you're fragile."
"Don't," I snapped with sudden ferocity. "Don't call me that."
He actually flinched as if I'd slapped him, but I found that I didn't care about his hurt feelings.
I yanked the door handle and climbed out of the truck, not bothering to slam it shut behind me. I couldn't spend another second confined in that small space with him and his suffocating control.
As I walked back toward the house, Charlie's voice drifted out from the kitchen. "Bella? What happened?"
"Truck won't start," I replied simply, heading for the stairs.
“Do you want me to drive you?”
"It's fine. I'll call Jacob tomorrow, maybe he can come here instead."
“Okay, dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“Kay,” I said as I slowly climbed the stairs.
A wave of relief washed over me at hearing him sound less distressed than before. But as I pushed open my bedroom door and stepped inside, I jumped to find Edward already sprawled across my bed as if he had every right to be there.
I froze, my hand still on the doorknob. His presence wasn’t a comfort; it was jarring. Too still. Too silent.
A frustrated sigh escaped me. "I'm really not in the mood for company, Edward," I said, my voice carrying a harshness I'd never used with him before.
"I know you're upset with me," he replied, flowing into a sitting position with that unnaturally fluid grace. "Please come sit. Let's talk about this."
I remained rooted by the door, my fingers tightening around the brass knob behind me like an anchor.
"What's the point?" I asked, exhaustion weighing down each word. "You're not really listening anyway."
“I promise to hear you out.”
I stood there in the doorway, unwilling to cross the threshold into his sphere of influence. For a moment, the silence stretched between us like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap. Then, without my permission, Edward was beside me, his marble arms guiding me toward the bed with gentle but irresistible insistence.
His coldness seeped through my shirt, sending a shiver down my spine. I ached for Jacob’s warmth instead, arms that held real comfort, not this beautiful, empty echo. The thought confused me, I loved Edward…didn’t I?
I tilted my head just enough to study Edward's profile, and the strangest realization hit me: I hadn't truly seen him in weeks. My stomach clenched as I took in his perfect features, the flawless bone structure, the artfully tousled bronze hair, those liquid gold eyes. He was still breathtakingly beautiful, but the awe I'd once felt was completely absent. Instead of wonder, I felt only a hollow recognition, like looking at a stunning photograph of a place I'd never actually been.
The yanking sensation in my chest returned with renewed force, making me gasp audibly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice immediately tightening with concern as his hand rose to cup my cheek.
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “I don’t know.”
But that was a lie. I did know, just not in any way I could articulate. The knowledge existed in fragments and feelings that no longer fit into the spaces they'd once occupied. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the tension that was spiraling beneath my skin like a living thing.
I sat with him in silence, his arms a constant pressure around me, unyielding. His cold was familiar by now, the kind of cold you forgot you were shivering under, until something warm brushed against you and reminded you what comfort used to feel like.
And that warmth, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Jacob.
I fixed my gaze on the far wall, trying to pull his face out of the fog. But it was like sandpaper had scraped away every sharp edge, every color.
I should remember him clearly. Should feel that spark.
Instead, there was only distance, guilt, and a persistent tugging sensation in my chest, as if something vital had been torn out by the roots.
Edward's hand moved in what was probably meant to be a soothing caress down my arm, and I had to suppress the urge to flinch. Not because his touch was painful, but because it felt wrong, it was too cold, and it wasn’t the hands I wanted touching me now.
"I thought I was doing okay," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Edward stiffened beside me, just barely. I swallowed hard and leaned forward, pulling myself out of his arms, needing space and air.
I pressed my palm against my chest where that sharp pain continued to throb like a second heartbeat.
Then Edward's icy-cold hand covered mine again. "I'm here," he whispered.
I didn't move toward him or away from him. I simply existed in the space between acceptance and rejection.
His arms encircled me once more, slowly this time, cautiously, as if he could sense how close I was to completely falling apart. I didn't pull away, but I didn't lean into his embrace either. I just allowed him to hold me the way I had countless times before.
I closed my eyes; I was so tired. I could feel myself being pulled under, but for a moment, I clung to the edges of myself, white-knuckled around a fragile clarity that trembled in my grasp. I didn’t want to let it go. I refused to.