Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a funny thing being invisible. She'd spent most of her short life trying to be seen. First by her mother after her parents divorced when Renée was consumed by whatever man she was currently with; then by the two dark-haired girls who lived on the rez, mostly ignoring her whenever her father brought her over to play; then by all the kids at each new school each time Renée moved, before she begged her mother to leave Arizona and go live with Charlie; then, of course, by him.

She didn’t understand what she actually wanted until it was almost too late. The first time he left her, she wasn’t invisible. It was worse. She didn’t even exist. How could she, without him? Without them? After Italy, after they got back together, after the battle, she realized how terrible it was to always be seen, especially by them. For her future to be monitored and analyzed at every turn, to be watched over every night, every waking moment of every day, to feel the gaze of immortal monsters fixed on her, however lazy and hazy their gaze might be. 

“Bella, honey, you look flushed.” Her mother peered at her, the corners of her eyes wrinkling with her concern.

Bella held back a sigh when her mother reached out and felt her forehead. She ducked out from under her cool touch. “Don’t,” Even now, she hated the cold with a fierce instinctual intensity. “I’m fine, Renée.” She gave her mother a smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Your hands are cold.”

“You’re burning up,” Renée turned and opened her junk draw, fishing about. Bella watched with a lazy detachment until Renée held up a thermometer.

“I’m not sick,” Bella insisted. “I just sat in the sun too long.” She turned and shuffled towards the stairs, the sand clinging to her bare feet now dusting the cold tile in a never-ending layer of grit. It reminded her of another beach, with cloudy skies and frigid waves, and bone-white driftwood and bonfires, and ghost stories and myths. If only it had stayed a horror story told by a copper-skinned boy to impress a girl he’d been in love with for most of his life. Her heart lurched, and she pressed her eyes closed. That boy had always seen her, but she never noticed. She rubbed her hands over her arms. Her skin was too hot now. But that’s the thing about the sun; too much, and you get burned. She heard her mother draw in a breath, as if she wanted to say something else. Bella sighed and turned, trying to smile again. “I’m alright, Renée. Really.”

“It’s just,” her mother frowned, shoving the drawer closed with enough force to rattle the contents. “What really happened with—with Edward?” She whispered his name, as if it could bite. “Why did you leave him?”

“I didn’t leave him.” 

He’d left her. Again. 

“What happened?” 

Bella blinked. Memories crowded together under the surface of her skin, itching, clawing, stinging. So much had happened. Too much. I can’t tell you. She’d said it so many times, Renée didn’t really hear her anymore. So Bella stopped trying. She shivered and her mother stepped closer.

“He must be worried about the—”

“He’s not.” Bella’s lips pressed into a humorless expression. “I promise.”

“Isabella,” 

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Sorry,” Renée frowned again, suddenly looking old and tired. Like a mother should look when her child needs her. But Bella was no longer a child, and she didn’t want the shallow comfort her mother could offer. “He’s your husband.”

“Was.” Bella frowned. “He was my husband.” She no longer flinched at that word. It was a human word, a normal word. Normal people had husbands. She didn’t. She never did.

Almost everyone she knew believed she’d married Edward Cullen, her high school sweetheart, a week after they graduated. Had they bothered to pay attention, those same people would’ve noticed that there was no priest, no alter, no rings, and no true vows before God. What they got was a charade, a farce, a play for the children of men. The wedding was a pantomime for her old self that wanted to believe in God and angels and life and happily ever after. Monsters play by different rules. The true wedding ceremony to bind them together forever in the eyes of his family and his world was supposed to happen at sunset. Edward had refused once he smelled her in the darkness of their bedroom. 

“What have you done, Isabella?” He’d flinched back from her.

“What do you—”

“You smell.” He frowned. “Wrong.” Edward shook his head, searching for the correct word, “Not wrong, precisely. Different.” 

“I smell?” 

Panic had squeezed her lungs and stomach, tears stinging her eyes. Edward must smell Jacob. She blushed, her face hot under her shame. 

After breaking her best friend’s heart, she’d scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at her skin, until she was raw and nearly bleeding. She’d even bought new shampoo and body wash, unable to bear the reminder of the strawberry-sage scented memory that would always haunt her. Only Charlie’s threats to delay the wedding and haul her ass to a licensed psychiatrist he couldn’t afford convinced her to stop. Could Edward still smell Jake on her? She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since—

 “I—I’m—I’ll shower. Right now. It won’t take long, I—”

Edward had grabbed her arm, his grip a fraction too tight. He hadn’t said anything more and she hadn’t truly understood why his family never performed their own wedding ceremony that night. That should’ve been her first clue. But he was easily jealous, and she clung to it as an excuse and an explanation. Somehow, she’d coaxed him into her bed anyway, hoping their new intimacy and his own alluring scent would smother all his doubts. 

It was her biggest mistake. She’d learned that night that ice burns as much as the sun. Afterwards, she’d curled up in the ruined bed, alone and sore, confused and afraid. What had happened to her fairytale love? To her happily ever after? Then the phone rang, but Edward hadn't answered it. She’d barely had the energy to wonder where he’d gone. Her thin arm trembled as she raised the handset to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Bella,” Alice’s hoarse voice was like an electric shock. “What have you done?"

"Done?"

"You’ve disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Bella still hadn't understood.

“I can’t see your future anymore,” Alice hissed, her voice clogged with panicked tears. “What have you done?”

That should’ve been her second clue. There was only one thing that could block Alice’s visions, but she’d been too selfish to admit the truth. Now it haunted her, nipping at her heels. She shook her head. She deserved the torment and had learned to live with it, until it made her better. And she was getting better. Slowly. 

“Bella?”

She blinked at her mother, “Hm?”

“Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”

“I’m sure, Mom,” she forced a small laugh. Calling Renée “mom” always smoothed over a pending argument. She’d learned that trick with Charlie in senior year and used it shamelessly to her advantage. The only difference was her father knew what she was doing and didn’t care. Her mother didn’t know, and it always made Bella feel a fresh twinge of guilt. She turned back towards the stairs, absently rubbing the old scar on her wrist, a phantom memory of the icy cold seeping down her arm, like venom. 

“Are you hungry?” Her mother called after her, placated and resigned. 

“Always,” Bella chuckled, the sound almost happy, then began the slow climb to her room at the top of the Floridian bungalow. 

The summer house had been her stepfather’s gift to her mother last year. A warm haven in which to hide, to heal. She opened the sliding door that emptied onto a tiny balcony overlooking the gulf and breathed in the wet salty air. Here, her life had slowly mellowed from the chaos of her junior and senior years into something more mundane, the days finally falling into a pattern of normalcy that she craved like she craved the sun; long, predictable, lazy days. Here she’d finally let herself slow down, become invisible, and just be herself. Here she could almost forget the last two years. Bella sighed and ran her hand absently over the rounded swell of her stomach. Almost.

Chapter Text

He jolted awake with a choking gasp, covered in a cold sweat.

Would it be today? Please, God, don't let it be today. Eyes pressed closed, he waited for the worst. Please, not today.

Waiting for someone to die is a sick sort of torture. In many ways it was so much worse than the sudden shocking loss of an unexpected death. Every moment was loaded, charged, the fear and the denial and the stress eating at his insides until he was almost numb. Only in the mornings would the panic grip him again. He knew he would know the second she turned, the moment her own heart stopped beating. Not today. Please, honey, not today. Not today. She was his, and he was hers. He would know.

A beat. Then two.

Jake.

Bella. He let out a heavy breath of relief. Still alive. She was still alive. He grabbed his notebook from where he’d wedged it in the rickety bunk and flipped it open to the back. He added a mark. 267 days. He’d kept track of each one in the back of the black pocket journal he’d bought at a dollar store just north of the Canadian border. For 267 days, he'd waited, each day haunted with the cruel agony of anticipation. She had one more day. Just one more. It was hard to hold onto hope, but he couldn't stop himself.

He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and breathed slowly out until his racing heart slowed to its usual 48 beats per minute. Then he slung his feet to the floor, and stood, stretching. She had another day.

Chapter Text

At sunset, Phil built them a driftwood fire as her mother poured the wine. They sat in companionable silence watching the sky, stealing glances at Bella. She could feel their worry washing over her in gentle determined waves. Where it had once irritated her, crawling under her skin in a nagging persistence, now it was a growing comfort; a sign she was loved and cared for. Her nine months of invisibility were almost gone. They couldn’t know what the birth would truly mean, but still they worried. She sat silent, sipping on hot cider, watching the flames, their salt-blue hue a sad echo in her mind. 

“Bella, it’s getting late,” Renée said softly. “We ought to turn in.”

She pretended not to hear her mother, staring unblinking into the flames. She fingered the small charm dangling around her neck, her nails finding the familiar groove on one side of the wooden wolf’s body that was deeper than the others. She was good at pretending. Maybe too good. But pretending sometimes made things true, for a while at least. Or maybe it made them more true until she could choose them for their own sake instead of pretending she didn’t care. Her fingers tightened on the wolf. Edward’s pained expression flit across her memory. He’d found the small wooden charm hidden in the corner of her underwear drawer, the second week of their honeymoon.

“Isabella, what’s this?” He’d asked, his voice low and soft and dangerous. His eyes were almost black, the familiar amber hue fading as his need to feed grew.

“It’s mine.” She’d snatched it away, her hand brushing his. He’d flinched back as if she’d burned him. “It’s nothing.”

“It is not nothing,” Edward replied, breathing slowly through his nose. He took another deliberate step away from her, as he always did when he was trying to control himself, only this time it had felt—wrong. Different. “If you love me, get rid of it.”

They both knew what he really meant. Get rid of him. Edward had allowed her to love Jacob Black, knowing he still commanded her soul. But now he couldn’t abide even the memory of him, as if it clung to her skin, sinking into her bones, contaminating her, hiding her from him. She chuckled at the thought. He’d been right to worry. She didn’t know it then, but that day was the beginning of the end. Or maybe it was just the first time she couldn’t quite pretend to want this immortal life anymore. But she still tried, clinging stubbornly to her foolishness. She’d left her whole world behind, abandoned them all for the Cullens, convinced that never dying was worth the cost of her humanity.

“Stupid,” she whispered. She’d chosen so many stupid things. And she’d almost damned herself to a path from which there would’ve been no return. If not for Jacob.
 
The fire shifted, the flames burning lower. Bella turned to scan the dark swath of beach, the water a steady breathing force on her left. Phil had gathered a decent pile of driftwood and she picked up a small stick, poking gently at the heated center. Then she wrapped her arms around herself, resting them on the burgeoning swell of her stomach, but she wasn’t cold. As she watched the glowing heat of the fire, she smiled, feeling the wriggling movement of the baby inside her. The heat should’ve been another clue.

Even as a little girl, Bella was sensitive to the cold, resentful of the turn of the seasons every September. It had grown worse the more time she spent with the Cullens, the more weight and sleep she lost from the constant anxiety of being a human in a monster’s world. She rubbed the fading scar on her wrist again, hating it, and yet grateful for it. She’d been bitten by a vampire and survived, but those kinds of wounds never truly heal. The scar had always been icy cold to the touch, like marble. For the last nine months, the sensation had slowly ebbed away, like mist melting under the rising sun, until it was almost gone. Another clue.

She allowed herself to be blind for so long. It had been easy to ignore the sharp increase of her fatigue, the growing nausea, and sore breasts and back, and the steady heat slowly building inside her. It was too easy to look back now and wonder at her ignorance. She was so young then. She was still young. Not even twenty. It was almost six weeks after her supposed wedding when all the pieces finally came together.

Edward had returned from hunting with Emmett and Jasper, the three of them more relaxed than they’d been in almost a month. Almost human. Almost. Jasper smelled her first, his head whipping around to where she sat on the patio, every muscle taught, hands trembling. Bella froze, a half-eaten spoon of peanut butter hanging out of her mouth. Jasper struggled more than the others to curb his thirst for human blood, and she lived with a constant buzz of anxiety whenever he and Alice visited. But the look on his face that night wasn’t the same intense gnawing hunger of a predator for it’s prey. It was revulsion. And fear. He looked as if he smelled a Quileute wolf.

Bella hadn’t had the chance to blink before Edward and Emmett’s expressions shifted into the mirror images of their brother, their stances morphing effortlessly into defensive crouches.

“Wolves,” Emmett snarled, eyes darting around. 

Edward moved so fast, Bella didn’t even catch the usual blur of motion. He grabbed her above the elbow, but flinched back with a snarling gasp. As if her bare skin had burned him. 

“Edward,” Jasper’s voice was tight with an undercurrent of curiosity. “Why does your human smell like a werewolf?” 

“Isabella,” Edward turned to her, nostrils flared, panting through his open mouth. She hated when he called her by her full name. It made her sound old and childish all at once.

Before she could answer him, a hint of some sick, cloying smell, with a harsh edge of ammonia had filled her nose. Bella vaulted from her seat towards a clump of rose bushes, emptying her stomach in violent heaving motions. What was happening? She dry heaved again, trembling, trying to think.

“Is she sick?” Emmett asked, his voice hushed. 

“She’s burning up!” Edward hissed. “And she reeks of—of—of that—” He choked on his words, but Jasper supplied the rest.

“That Quileute wolf.”

Jake.

"Could she catch something from them?" Emmett's concern had tugged at her.

“I’m not sick.” She stood and turned, sweat clinging to her skin. It was so obvious, it was laughable. She wanted to cry. “I think I—I’m,” she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying not to breathe in that smell. Their scent. “I think I’m pregnant.” She blinked, staring at them, those words the first domino that sent her brittle world crashing around her. 

Chapter Text

Jacob stared at his dinner. The camp cook had a repertoire of exactly twenty-one meals that she rotated with a precision that would impress the most fastidious engineer. Some of the loggers swore she had a spreadsheet of her God-awful concoctions.

"You gonna eat that, Black?"

"Yes." He barely glanced at Stuart. Or maybe it was Stanley. He was almost twenty-six, but he was the only other logger near Jacob's age. Still, they always sat together at meals and the rest of the crew called them 'the kids'. Never mind that Jacob towered over Stuart—Stanley?— at six feet and six inches.

"Those pancakes won't eat themselves."

Stanley—definitely Stanley—tried again, his focus on Jacob's plate. Like the Quileute pack, loggers were always hungry, and nothing, no matter how distasteful, was ever thrown out. Jacob was no different, eating anything and everything set in front of him. He'd even eaten Billy's attempts at a fish fry. Nothing about that had changed, except—

"Do you not like pancakes or what?" Stanley again.

"I like them," Jacob growled, shooting him a dark look. "They're my favorite."

"Okay," Stanley stared at him, frowning. "But you never eat them."

Jacob was glaring at his plate again, his fork poking patterns into the edible flat flour discs the cook called pancakes. They weren't her pancakes but why did it matter? Pancakes were food and he was starving. Still, he hadn't eaten pancakes since she'd made them for his father's birthday, a year and a half ago. The memory was sharp and unwelcome, but it came anyway. It was one of those days.

"So I made dinner," He remembered that shy nervous smile, the one she always wore when she was hoping for approval. Charlie had been raving nonstop to Billy and Jacob about his daughter's cooking. Naturally Billy dared her to impress him for his birthday. It was one of their many lame-sauce attempts to pull her out of the blackhole of herself after the leech had abandoned her. To everyone's surprise, and delight, she'd taken Billy up on his request and banished them all outside while she cooked. Bella loved celebrating birthdays, except her own. She loved to give to the people she cared about. It reminded him of his mother. If Jacob closed his eyes he could still see how Bella had presented their loaded rickety dining table to Billy and her dad, wiping her hands nervously on the large red t-shirt she'd thrown over herself as an apron. It was his old gym shirt. "Thought I'd keep it simple. Pancakes, bacon, sausage, and scones. Oh and coffee. I know it's late but you can't have breakfast food without coffee, right?"

They'd all quietly stared at her long enough that she clutched her arms around herself, a gesture of self preservation Jacob hated. "Do you," she swallowed, "not like breakfast food, Billy?"

Breakfast for dinner had been Sarah Black's special treat, every holiday, before she died. Bella hadn't known. How could she when everyone avoided mentioning his mother? It was so long ago not even Jacob really remembered her. But the smell of those pancakes had dug down into his gut and yanked out his heart in a terrible, awful, beautiful way. He'd glanced at his father, who's face had gone a shade paler than normal. Charlie coughed awkwardly. Jacob saw Bella's trembling fingers twisting in his flour-dusted red shirt. He lifted his chin, smiled, and took her hand.

"They're my favorite. Dad's too."

Her face had lit up, "Really? You're not," she hesitated, "I mean, you're not just being nice, are you?"

"Mom would make them for us before," he'd told her, diving head first into the pain with a smile. He hated burying things away and this shit had been buried too long. "She loved breakfast for dinner, especially at Christmas or Easter."

Bella's eyes had widened, her hand tightening in his, "Jake." It was a whispered 'I'm sorry'.

"Don't, honey," He pulled her towards the table and they sat. "I'm starving."

Bella's pancakes had ruined all other breakfast food for him, then and now. Just like she'd ruined everything else. Jacob swore silently at himself. This was a pain worse than the memory of his mother, and he couldn't face it today. Jacob pushed his plate towards Stanley. "Here."

He had moose jerky hidden under his mattress for days like this, when everything was a ghost of her, making breathing almost too much; where he would swear he could smell a hint of her on the wind, and it always always always smelled slightly like him instead of the undercurrent of leech he remembered; when she felt close enough to touch if only he could catch her memory and make her real again; when her voice echoed in his head and he thought maybe, just maybe, she could hear him too.

Bells.

He marched back to his bunk and threw himself down on the too-short mattress. He pulled out the black pocket notebook and carefully counted the tally marks again. 268 days. He didn't know why she was still alive and his wolf was growing impatient. "One year," he muttered. "We wait a year, and if she's still alive, then we find out why." His wolf growled at him, shaking the cage of his skin. Jacob rolled over and tried to sleep. Night was coming, and that would help. He closed his eyes, knowing he would probably dream of her if he slept at all.

Jake.

It was one of those days.

Chapter Text

The beach fire hissed, slowly dying. A warm salty wind blew Bella's hair back over her shoulder. She lifted her face to taste the myriad of smells peppering the wind. She would miss the smell of the wind when her baby was born. But she wouldn’t miss the stench of monsters that clung to every part of her memories. 

“She can’t be pregnant,” Edward’s voice had become almost a roar that night, edged with fury until she was afraid he’d break under the force of it. “We’re dead, Jasper. No heart, no blood, no tears,”

“Edward—"

“—no bodily fluids of any kind.” 

“So, no baby gravy.” Emmett supplied, cracking a grim smile. Edward’s fist cracked against his chin, and he fell back under the force. 

Jasper only just managed to get between them. “This solves nothing,” he said through gritted teeth. “Alice will have seen this. She’ll send Carlisle.”

“If she’d seen this, she would’ve told me,” Edward growled. 

“We should wait for Carlisle.”

Bella had stumbled back to her seat, still holding her spoon of peanut butter, forcing herself to take measured, controlled breaths, using the square breathing Sue Clearwater had taught her to help control her panic attacks. Her mind raced.

She was pregnant. It was the only thing that made sense. How could she be pregnant? She and Edward had only—once. Just the one time—But she was pregnant.

“We only mated once, if you can even call it that,” 

She was only nineteen. And she was pregnant. Oh God, Charlie was going to kill her. And Renée was going to murder whatever her father left behind.

“I smelled it then, I thought I smelled him on her.”

How could she be pregnant? Vampires couldn’t have children. They simply couldn’t. How could—

“The wolf.”

Oh. Oh no. No, no, no. Oh God, she was pregnant. What had she done?

“It’s not just on her skin,” Edward spit the words, jealousy and pain, betrayal and disbelief coloring them. “It’s inside her.”

“Babies usually are,” Carlisle’s calm tenor floated over the scene. He was carrying his black physician’s bag. Of course Alice had sent him. “Excuse us.” His tone brooked no argument from his coven. Jasper, Emmett and Edward slunk back into the night as Carlisle pulled on a pair of blue gloves. Bella had seen the truth in his face before his quick assessment of her was concluded. “Bella,” he laid a gentle gloved hand on her arm. She gasped, feeling the burning icy touch through the thin latex. Carlisle flinched back, his mouth set in a grim line. He dug in his bag and held out two white pregnancy tests. “These will only take four minutes,” he said. “We best be certain.”

At the time it felt like everything was breaking apart. She hadn’t realized how broken her life already was. She learned the hard way that sometimes things have to be re-broken so they can heal straight. She hadn’t slept that night, the tests sitting on her nightstand, two bright pink lines blazed across them. 

“We made a huge mistake,” Bella had sobbed into the phone after.

Alone with her raging thoughts, and the reality of her choice churning in her gut, she’d grabbed the nearest phone and dialed the only number her fingers remembered. Jacob’s. She thought she didn’t want him to answer until he didn’t. But Sue Clearwater did. Bella ought to have pressed her lips together, thanked her politely, and hung up. Instead, everything came pouring out of her, like an infection from a lanced wound. She told the older woman everything, Sue listening without interruption. Even when Bella’s words melted into heaving sobs, she still listened and waited. When Bella finally quieted, feeling drained and spent, the woman had taken a breath and spoken so softly.

“Did Jacob know?”

“No.” The word was half a sob. “I didn’t know until today. How could I do this to him?” She didn’t know if the ‘him’ she meant was Edward or Jacob. “How could I be so, so,”

“Human.”

And for the first time that word shone like a gentle boon and a gift instead of a weight and a curse. Bella was human and she’d done a very human thing. 

“I broke his heart.” This time she knew she meant Jacob. Edward’s heart couldn’t be broken in the same way. He didn’t quite have one. “And now,” she stopped, choking again on her words.

“And now you must choose.” 

She thought she had chosen, when she chose an undying eternity with Edward. But her real choice had been six weeks before, with Jake, in his mother's cabin, three days before her wedding. She couldn’t take it back, and she didn’t know if she wanted to.

“Is he there?”

Sue had sighed. In that slow sad sound, Bella heard her answer. Jacob was still gone.

She'd been left behind before and she'd thought it would kill her, but this was Jacob, her spring, her sun. She'd assumed he would come back eventually. But he hadn't. His leaving would eclipse every other loss, even after Edward and the Cullens left her again. That night she hadn't understood the weight of what she'd done, as everything about her fantasy world slowly fell apart. Edward was the first to go. He’d listened to Carlisle’s diagnosis, his eyes and posture hardening, sharpening. Then he’d sighed heavily and turned to leave.

“Edward, wait,” she’d begged. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake, I swear. I just—I can’t explain it but,”

“You are not mine,” he said. His expression settled into something she didn’t understand. It turned her stomach almost as much as his cloying scent. “You are not Isabella Swan anymore.”

“No, I’m still me, I swear it, I—”

“You are not.” His eyes looked sad, and she wished again that he could cry. “The woman I wanted is gone.”

“You don’t want me?” The terrible echo of when he’d left in the woods rushed over her like a cold wind. “Don’t do this to me again. Please, Edward.”

“I did want you,” he said. “And you wanted me. Until you changed.”

“Then change me! Change me, and—and then I’ll go back to what you want.” 

Edward froze, staring first at her, then turned to Carlisle. “Would that work?” He asked, sounding eager, almost hopeful.

Carlisle frowned, hesitating. “It might.”

“What about the baby?” Rosalie's voice was cold and—afraid. “Wolves cannot be turned, only killed.” 

“It’s a wolf pup,” Carlisle said slowly. “Our venom is a deadly poison to the Quileutes.”

“And Bella?” Rosalie pressed.

“She might survive the change, since she’s not technically Quileute, but,”

“No,” Rosalie interrupted. "She won't."

Bella had felt Carlisle’s words cut into her, gutting her open, exposing the heart she’s pretended wasn’t there. Rosalie was right. If she were bitten now, her baby would die. And so would she. Every cell in her body screamed in terror, adrenaline hitting her veins with a pounding chorus. 

Run. Run. Run! Later, she would remember it as Jacob’s voice, like an echo in her head, keeping her safe. Run, Bells! Run and don’t look back.

Edward had sighed again, as if he were disappointed. Bella blinked, another piece breaking off to shatter inside her. She turned and stared at each of the Cullens, one after another. They all looked the same. Disappointed. All except Rosalie. Bella knew she wouldn’t have seen their expression for what it was, if Rosalie hadn’t looked so different. Rosalie was glad; she smiled, and something snapped back into place inside of Bella. She knew she could let them all go. If they didn't go, she would have to run.

"We'll go," Alice said. "Give you time to decide."

"I understand." Bella's voice had sounded so odd. Flat, yet determined. For once, Alice couldn't see what she would decide. She was invisible.

“Goodbye, Isabella.” Edward looked at her one last time. She watched him leave, with a mixture of despair and relief, part of her screaming as whatever bound them together finally dissolved, and the other part of her resigned to the truth. For a vampire, change was like death. She had died in Edward’s eyes, because she’d changed.

“Every change, when it comes, is seen as a loss,” Sue Clearwater would tell her later, as Bella tried to piece herself back together. “But in time, we all must change, like the seasons. That’s what it means to live, little mother.”

Edward couldn’t die, he couldn’t live, he couldn’t change. It was a terrible thing, to live frozen. She thought vampires had everything because they were immortal. But all they possessed was knowledge without love, existing without hope, in a unending fountain of days without any real meaning. Their minds and bodies became their cage. That was the real monstrosity. She’d wept for him then, as if he’d died, letting those tears wash her clean of the lies she’d told herself. Sue sat with her as she sobbed, humming a calming Quileute lullaby.

Chapter Text

Jacob lay still in his bunk, tense, listening. The night was still and silent. Too silent. He slowly tasted the wind and started up, the sickly sweet strain of ammonia a firm undercurrent. He rolled out of bed, stripped out of his boxers, and crouched, naked, waiting.

Night had once been his favorite part of the day. His wolf craved the woods at night, the darkness sinking over him like a second skin. Leave it to the bloodsuckers to poison that too. If they turned Bella into one of them, they would turn her at night. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but it seemed the sort of thing monsters did. Night became his torment, waiting for her to die, to become a monster.

But as his notebook filled with little tally marks, a nagging worry began to build and tangle in his gut. What the hell were they waiting for? He’d assumed the dirty bloodsuckers would turn her the moment they were off Quileute radar, but the days had turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. At first he thought the treaty must be the reason. If they were still in Forks, they had to abide by it or risk an all out war with the wolves. The size of the pack, even without him, was enough to make their coven cautious. Sam had made it abundantly clear the pack wouldn't hesitate to act if the bloodsuckers put a toe out of line.

“The treaty is non-negotiable,” Sam had repeated. It was a week after the newborn battle. Jacob shouldn’t have been there. His bones were still sore, but he’d dragged himself to the treaty line in wolf form, rage simmering under his skin as he listened to Sam wheel and deal with Carlisle over Bella's future. “We won’t bite if you don’t.”

“And what of Isabella’s free choice?” Carlisle had asked. He had a voice like oiled leather; expensive kid gloves, carefully placating the pack to suit his family’s needs. He was as respectable and fair as a monster could be. Sometimes Jacob hated him the most. “She’s asked my son for this boon.” The bastard had dared to smile at his own slippery words. “A wedding gift of sorts.”

“Her choice is her choice.” Sam said and folded his arms.

<no!> Jacob had growled, a deep thunder in his throat. Jared and Paul moved in to flank him, their teeth silently bared in warning.

<back off, lover boy.>

<shut up, paul!>

Sam ignored them, his eyes fixed on Carlisle, “If you turn her, we will end you all.”

Carlisle had looked past Sam, straight at Jacob, a flash of resignation in his face. “I understand.”

Jacob hadn't understood that look until three days before the wedding, when he finally lost everything. Choices were made, and the consequences fell like rain, shattering the delicate balance between the Cullens and the Quileute wolves. Everything had changed. They'd won their little game, taking Bella with them, so why the hell were they waiting to change her?

“This isn't a game," Bella had insisted the night after the newborn battle. She'd been right and wrong.

“Just because you're not playing, doesn't mean he isn't, honey,” Jacob had whispered, his voice bitter with pain.

Jacob had turned away from her, every cell and nerve in his body screaming in pain as the shattered bones on his right side mended themselves together. Fast. Too fast. They were just kids caught up in the mazes and games of monsters. He was tired, so tired of all of it, of trying to make her see what was right in front of her. It was too late to go back to when life was simpler and they were just Jake and Bells. But he'd tried. For her, he'd tried and failed.

Jake.

Failed. Jacob grimaced at the thought, a humorless smile twisting his face. At least he'd failed with a spectacular bang. He could almost imagine the God-awful jokes Quil and Embry must've made at his expense afterwards. He hadn't been brave enough to stay for the wedding. So he ran. He barely slept, barely ate, too furious and hopeless to do anything but run. He couldn't even phase back. He'd almost lost himself for that first month, his head and his wolf at war, pulling him back and forth across the Canadian border like a marionette dancing under the puppeteer’s strings.

He'd kept running northeast, trying to get as far from his misery as he could. No matter how far he ran, he couldn't escape himself or what he was. But each day he woke up, knowing she was still alive, his wolf calmed and his control returned. His anger and grief still smoldered beneath his skin, but he couldn't solve his problems by blaming them on anyone but himself. He fought back now the only way he could. By hunting and protecting.

A hiss floated in through the open window. He almost grinned.

White opens.

He slipped from the cabin, and exploded into his wolf, nose to the ground, on the bloodsucker's trail in seconds. The leeches might play their sick games in the dark, but when his wolf hunted, the night belonged to him again. A year of wrestling his demons had taught him how to play his own game and win.

Chapter Text

At first, Bella had convinced herself she kept on calling Sue Clearwater to check on Charlie, to make sure he was eating his vegetables and treating Sue the way she deserved. But Sue never talked much on these calls, listening patiently as Bella poured her heart out, one difficult conversation at a time.

“You're strong,” Sue repeated. “A strong little mother.”

“I’m a mess.” The truth still stung, even when she admitted it out loud. "What am I even doing, Sue?"

“You’re learning how to live.” Sue always said the same thing whenever Bella called in that first panicked month after Edward and his family left her. “To live free, knowing who you are and what you want.” 

The loneliness after they left was like a kind of death, and it was tearing her apart. Again. She was so tired of feeling broken.

"Death isn’t exactly bad," Sue insisted. "It's part of living."

Bella had clung to her words like a lifeline. The death of that part of her, and the loneliness that followed, taught Bella about her own strength. She could survive. She would survive. For her baby and for herself.

“Your pup is a gift,” Sue reminded her gently. “And a mercy. You've been spared a terrible fate.”

“I’m alone.”

“But you’re alive,” Sue had insisted fiercely. It was the same hostile tone all Quileute had when they thought of the cold ones. “Your spirit flies free, Bella Swan.”

“Why does it hurt so much?”

“Learning to live with yourself means seeing your faults. Mirrors are painful. Many would rather be blind.”

“I think I’m still blind.” Bella had almost laughed. “Like a bat.”

“Knowing nothing is better than thinking you know everything.” Sue chuckled. “Humility will help you see things as they are, little mother.”

“What about Jacob?” 

“Jacob will find his own way,” Sue's voice was always stern and certain when she spoke about Jacob Black. She knew the paths of her people, of her history. Jacob was the grandson of their last chief and such responsibility is an honor and a burden. She also knew no person could be forced to walk any path but their own. “Feeling lost is not the same as being lost, little mother. You will find your path too.”

Bella had sat with Sue’s words for days, the loneliness eating at her, peeling away layer after layer of herself she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t go back to Forks. She did feel lost, but she couldn't pretend anymore. So she lived alone with herself for almost two months, eating when she was hungry, sleeping when she was tired, until she found her own strength to decide what she wanted next. The answer had surprised her.

“Bella?” Renée had been stunned and confused, when her daughter turned up on her doorstep on a cloudy afternoon in late December. By then, Bella’s stomach had grown enough to draw attention if a person cared to notice. That day, she learned Renée had always noticed her, even if she didn’t know how to show it. “Oh, my Bella.”

Renée had pulled her into her arms and cried. She didn’t ask questions. Those would come later. Having her mother hold her, crying, and tell her everything would be alright, unlocked some raw, hidden part of herself. Bella had cried and cried and cried. She cried for the scared selfish child she’d been, almost throwing herself away for the love of an immortal monster. She cried for that monster and his family who had loved her, in the best way they could, even if it wasn’t enough. She cried for her baby who deserved so much more than the mess she'd made of her life. And she cried for her Jacob, wherever he was, and all the pain and anger he lived with that she could never erase.

Bella shivered suddenly as the wind whipped over the beach, the small fire sputtering, fighting to keep burning. She could feel fresh tears on her cheeks. She threw her stick into the fire, watching the volcano of sparks jump into the cool night air. She hated that her last memory of Jake was angry. Not her Jacob.

When he’d first shifted, his werewolf gene pulling him further into the world the Cullens inhabited, Jacob had been so angry all the time. It took time for her to see his fury for what it really was; anger edged in love and fear. He was angry because he couldn’t tell her what he’d become without betraying his tribe; because he’d been forbidden by Sam, the pack Alpha, to go near her for her own safety; because he thought she wouldn’t want any part of a monster like him; because he was afraid of what he'd become. In spite of all that, Jake had fought Sam’s Alpha command, and found a loophole. He’d already told her the tribal legends, all she had to do was put the pieces together. And eventually she had.

“You’re not a monster.” She’d whispered, grabbing his hand, and lacing their fingers together. “You’re good.”

“I’m a giant fucking wolf,” he said, his voice strained. He only swore like that when he was afraid and trying to hide it. She could hear the fear in his voice that day on First Beach. He’d been so afraid he'd loose himself, that he’d lose her, and it was so Jacob of him. "What if I'm not good enough?"

“You’re still you.” She insisted. Then she’d smiled, a real and whole smile, and the gaping icy emptiness in her chest shrank a little more. “Besides, I love dogs.”

He gave her a flat look, “Calling us dogs is sort of an insult, Bells.”

“Down, boy.”

He’d laughed then, throwing his head back like he used to, the glorious sound mingling with the rush of waves and wind. “God, I love you.”

Jacob had loved her like he lived; simply and without guile. It had been too short and almost too much. She wrapped her arms around her belly protectively and thought about how love had saved her in the end. Rosalie had saved her from immortality with her love of her own lost humanity. Sue had saved her from the all consuming worry, anxiety, and lies with her love of truth. Jacob had saved her simply by loving her, just as she was, even when she tore out his heart.

Jake.

Now she had to save herself, and her baby, by learning to live and love what was good for her, broken bits and all.

Chapter Text

Jacob crouched in wolf form and watched, only his sharp eyes moving over the dark shadows. When he'd first phased, he would burn through his wolf’s limited patience like he burned through calories. But failure had taught them both that hunting was more than sheer muscle against muscle. Hunting was a game. His mind was as powerful a tool as his body and bones, and when he used both, he always won. Tonight he needed to win.

He would wait until the leech grew impatient. He knew it scented him, growing overconfident because he was alone. They'd danced back and forth for weeks, exchanging moves like a long game of chess, each decision a calculated step towards survival or death. If his wolf could smile, it would’ve. This hunt, this game, was everything he was built to do. Without it, he would've been lost. A wolf without a pack or a purpose is nothing. He didn’t have a pack, so he’d carved out a purpose for himself in the Canadian wilderness. Hunting vampires alone was risky or stupid or both, but he didn’t have a choice.

“You always have a choice,” Billy had yelled at him, the day before everything fell apart with Bella. His father threw a rolled up newspaper at his head with alarming accuracy. "You'll hate yourself if you don't give this everything you've got."

“I’m trying, you ass,” Jacob had growled. “I’ve tried everything. You don't understand—”

“You’re still alive.” Billy picked up his shoe, “You're still breathing, son. So try harder.”

"If this is what she wants,"

"Is it, Jacob?" His father had demanded. "Is this really what she wants?"

"She said—"

"Today?"

"I'm trying to let her go!" Jacob snatched the shoe his dad threw at him from the air. "I'm trying to be the better man here."

"How? By giving up and letting those monsters turn her into one of them?"

"Why the hell do you even care?"

"Because you care." His father's face had turned more serious than he'd ever seen it. “And that's enough for me." It was the closest his father had ever come to saying 'I love you' since Sarah Black had died, and Jacob winced as if he'd hit him. "You can let her die or you can fight like hell.”

Billy was right and they both knew it. His wolf would rather fight and die, than to let them take her.

Jake.

Tonight, the wolf and the man both needed a fight they had a chance of winning. His wolf lay perfectly still, ready. Waiting. The slinking shadow slid down the trunk of a large pine. There was no sound when it landed on the ground, not even to his sensitive wolf ears. If he hadn’t been looking for it, the movement would’ve been lost in the soft shadows of the night. But the night world belonged to him.

<black responds.>

The wolf shifted his hind legs, just enough to let the wind catch his scent and carry it towards his quarry. The cold figure’s head snapped towards the wolf’s cover. The night seemed to sink into a growing silence, as if the forest took a collective breath and held it, before the wolf exploded forward, at the same moment the vampire shot off into the darkness like a bullet from a gun.

Chapter Text

Bella watched the moon rise, like a silver goddess emerging from the depths of the sea, before shuffling back to bed. But she didn’t really sleep. She couldn’t sleep well at night, when the moonlight danced and the hidden world came alive. A wolf thing. She smiled in spite of the dull ache inside her where her best friend had once warmed her.

 “It’s a wolf thing.” Jake had said. He always smiled wide whenever he told her about his wolf, pride shining in his eyes. Those times, when he unburdened himself of his terrible secret, were the rare moments when the responsibility of his Quileute heritage as a werewolf, as a protector, felt less like a curse and more like an adventure. “Wolves are nocturnal.”

“Wolf or not, you have to finish high school, Jake,” she’d insisted petulantly, scribbling a few notes into the margins of her trigonometry book. “And you can’t do that with Sam Uley running the pack ragged every damn night.”

Jacob had stilled, his wide dark eyes suddenly serious and stern. They were so brown they looked almost black; dark like the arrow heads Billy kept in his dresser drawer. “Why do you care?” 

“Because,” Bella frowned, chewing on her eraser. The more time she spent with Jacob Black after Edward broke up with her during her senior year, the more she cared. She cared about him—about everything—more than she thought possible, her heart slowly waking up inside her, like ice thawing under the steady warmth of the sun just before the turn of spring. Jacob was her spring, her sun; warm, patient, steadfast. He’d slowly become everything, asking for nothing in return. She wanted him to have every good thing he’d given her. It was partly guilt and partly love. She couldn’t see it then for what it was. He saw it, and still he didn’t push her. “Because,” she said firmly, “you deserve to be happy.” 

“I am happy, Bells.” He’d tossed aside the wrench he was using, and wiped his greasy hands on his cutoff shorts. “I’m always happy when you’re here."

And he had been. During those few short weeks before the Cullens returned, before Italy, before the newborn battle, Jacob had been so happy, shining and bright; even when Bella shouted and screamed at him, lost inside her own pit of broken misery. His love for her was the kind that burned steady, shining down into that pit to show her the way out. First, he’d found the name of the best therapist in Port Angeles. Then he convinced her dad to make the appointments, even offering to help pay. She’d been furious with them both. But Jacob drove her to every session. He sat with her after, and suffered with her, bearing her burdens as if they were his own. Slowly, she'd crawled back into herself.

Bella blinked away the memories, her tears hot on the cool cotton pillowcase. In the midst of it all, he'd found a way to smile, and to make her smile too. His simple joy had constantly puzzled her. How could one person find so much to be grateful for, even as their new monstrous reality closed in on them? She wondered if he still found joy, or if she’d stolen it all away the last time she saw him.

She shifted in her twin-sized bed inside the bungalow, listening to the rhythm of the ocean just outside her window. The gulf was so different from the Pacific. It felt different, smelled different, even sounded different. All her senses had sharpened over the months of her pregnancy. Not so keen as a true Quileute wolf, but her eyesight, sense of smell, and hearing were much better than they ought to be. Sometimes Bella thought the gulf sounded like Jacob breathing beside her. She could almost feel his body draped around her in a protected cocoon of heat. She ran her fingers over her belly, wishing for the comfort of that stolen night in Sarah Black's deserted cabin three days before her wedding. She couldn’t regret that night with Jacob. Without it, she wouldn’t be alive.

She remembered the way the setting sun glinted through the thick trees, pulling her through the rez woods. She’d clutched the scribbled note he’d left in her mailbox, it’s short cryptic message a plea she couldn’t ignore. Mom’s cabin. He’d left it vague so Alice Cullen couldn’t see what he was asking Bella to do, knowing she would disappear from Alice's visions if she got close enough to him. Alice was keeping close watch on her in the days leading up to the wedding, and Bella had jumped at the chance to be free from that constant gaze, even for a few minutes.

She hadn’t been to Sarah Black’s cabin since she was a little girl. She’d been afraid of losing her way, until she realized Jacob would find her, even if she was lost. After almost an hour of hiking, and stumbling, in silence, she crossed over a small creek, stepped around an outcrop of rocks, and there it was. Jacob had been waiting for her, his fists clenched. He was barefoot, and his shaggy hair glistened in the sunshine, so black it looked almost blue. 

“Bells?” It was a whisper, strained with hope and disbelief. “You’re here.”

She’d nodded.

“I didn’t know if,” he trailed off, still keeping his distance. Things had once been so easy between them, as easy as breathing, until she’d agreed to marry Edward. Jake had changed then, his anger contorting their friendship into a torment. “I know it’s not fair, Bells, but I had to ask,” he stared at his feet. “I had to try.”

“Try what?” 

“To stop you.”

She’d stepped closer, until his warmth pulled her in. It was like stepping into a beam of vibrant sunlight. She was Bells again and he was Jake. Her best friend. She laid her hand on his arm, her skin drinking in his heat like the dry earth soaks up rain after a long drought. “Jake, I—”

“I can’t let go,” he said simply, with a grim smile. His huge frame bent over her as he tugged her into a hug, as if he could hide her from the world and the monster that would take her and change her. His arms held her tight. “Not until your heart stops beating.”

“Jake,” she wanted to hide from the raw edge in his voice. “Don’t—”

"Please, honey," he begged.

She nodded, and then he’d kissed her, soft and quick, the barest brush of his lips on hers. It was enough to tell her what he wanted. He wanted her to be happy, wanted her to live, wanted her to stay. With him.

“Jacob,”

“You love me. I know you love me.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Of course it’s not the same.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not him.” They’d had this argument before, except now it felt different. He didn't sound angry or jealous, just—desperate, and so earnest. “I’m just Jake.” He’d looked at her then, and it was like he was looking into her. “And you’re Bells.” She nodded. “I don’t want whatever version of love he needs from you. He can have it.”

“What does that mean?” She’d asked, her voice almost a whisper. “I do love Edward.”

“It’s not the same. They have different rules, Bells. They live in their own world because they can’t live in ours. Maybe they do love, in a way, but not like us. It’s not the same, honey.”

"Edward loves me." She’d pushed herself back, breaking free from his warmth, “He told me.”

“I love you more.”

“That’s not fair, Jake.”

“I know.” He'd laughed. It was a bitter sound, but she heard his exhaustion, his fear. “We’re saying the same words, honey, but we don’t mean the same thing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Leeches aren’t human,”

“Neither are you,” she interrupted.

“Maybe.” He’d studied her for a brief second. “But I’m still alive.” He stepped closer, until his body brushed against hers. He raised his eyebrows in a challenge. “I’m not trapped in my mind, frozen in time, like those bloodsuckers. I sleep, I eat, I breathe.” He laid his hand on her waist, “I dream, I laugh, I cry.” He tugged, gently enough to let her pull away if she wanted. She didn’t, watching his eyes darken with desire. “I crave, I lust,” he paused.

“And?” She’d licked her lips. She knew what he meant, but she still wanted to hear him say it. Part of her thought he wouldn't actually do it. 

“I want you.” 

Chapter Text

His wolf tore after the vampire, weaving carefully through the undergrowth from memory, methodically herding it away from the trees and towards an outcropping of rocks and cliffs. The ravine echoed with the thunder of a cascade of boulders and stones, the wolf and its quarry scrambling up towards the cliffs. The rocky terrain was a challenge. His balance had to be perfect, every jump half a step ahead of the monster he chased. The wolf's instincts guided them through the treacherous maze. Jacob never could've managed on his own. But he was still a Quileute; man and wolf were both born for the hunt.

Jacob was only ten years old when Harry Clearwater and Charlie Swan took him hunting for the first time. He was so excited he was almost shaking, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute. He knew they were trying to distract him from the chaos of his home. Billy Black took the death of his wife hard. Too hard. And Jacob paid the price, cleaning up his father's mess day after day, and night after night.

"We hunt to live," Harry had said. "Never for sport, never careless with the gift the animal gives us."

Jacob had nodded. Every deer season his father had helped to feed their family. Now it was Jacob's turn. "Does it hurt them?" He'd asked, gripping his rifle tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"If you're a good shot, no," Charlie said, shrugging one shoulder, and looking away. Harry had glanced sideways at him, and Charlie coughed. "I guess it hurts a little, kid. We don't have to do this today if,"

"No," Jacob had interrupted and raised his chin. "I want to." He would take care of his dad and sisters. He had to.

He had sat in the deer stand for hours, the weather getting wetter and colder, the silence falling over the three of them like a suffocating blanket. His first deer was a beauty, a breathtaking buck, all sinews, strength, and dignity. Harry and Charlie had held their breath, waiting. Jacob's hands shook, but he'd pulled the trigger and the deer had died. He'd watched it happen almost in slow motion, the graceful legs curling, the sleek brown body sinking into the misty long grass.

"Nice shot," Charlie had breathed, impressed. They scrambled down and through the field to where the deer lay.

Ten-year -old Jacob's throat had burned, bile threating to choke him, as he stared at the dead animal. He'd wanted to throw his father's rifle across the field and run. Later that night, Billy found him in the garage, crying in the cab of the truck. His father said nothing. But after that, he'd called Charlie and agreed to get help. He quit drinking so much, and started taking his medication. That hunt had saved his father, but Jacob never forgot the cost. 

Wolf and vampire thundered along the edge. Everything had a cost; every life taken, every choice made, every word spoken. It took him years to understand the weight of every choice and how to bear the responsibility of living. He knew now and he wouldn't fail. Every time he hunted a vampire, the cost of failure haunted him. He couldn't lose. If he did, hundreds of others would lose. As he closed the distance between them, the wolf veered off at the last second, as if to cut off the monster at a bend in the path.

<check, bloodsucker.>

He heard the monster’s footsteps falter as it paused for a fraction of a fraction of a second, changing directions in response to his move. And that was all the wolf needed to get the upper hand. Leg muscles bunched and the wolf pivoted, sprang, catching the monster in it’s blind spot. They tumbled over the cliff's edge, plunging down to the rocks below. The wolf twisted like a cat in midair, landing on top of its prey as they hit the ground with a rock splintering crack that shook the ground.

The glowing red eyes of the bloodsucker widened as Jacob's wolf snarled, <check mate, you bloodless bastard.>

Then, with a screeching wrench of metal and stone, the wolf ripped its head from its body.

Chapter Text

There is an undeniable lure in being wanted. Edward had wanted her, but so did Jacob, and it was not the same.

For two years she’d tried to give Edward exactly what he wanted from her, but she didn’t understand his desire, and she never felt it was enough. It would never be exactly what he wanted; not until he consumed all of her, until she was just like him. But Jacob wanted her. She knew exactly what he meant and she also knew it would be almost too much for him. And for her. Still, desire knotted hot in her belly as Jacob pressed closer. She had the fleeting thought that he could probably smell her own arousal.

“Bells?” His voice dropped into its deeper wolfish timber, almost like a growl. He knew and he wanted to her say it.

Edward had promised to change her into a vampire himself, after their wedding. When he did, she would lose this human wanting—the coursing hot mix of pheromones and hormones burning her alive from the inside out, the sweat and heat of bodies moving together as if they'd become the same person—as surely as she would lose Jacob. 

“I want you too.” She leaned forward and kissed him, choosing him in this short, hidden moment. If she was going to die, she wanted to live.

Jacob's mouth had slanted over hers, even as he’d pressed her body tight against him, a thundering rumble rolling in his chest. “Bells,” he tore his mouth free, his breath shallow, his eyes serious. "Please don’t do this unless you’re sure.”

It was a warning. If he took her now, he wouldn’t take another. She would be his in the eyes of his wolf. His first, his mate. She should’ve told him no. If she’d loved him like he deserved she would’ve let him go before stealing his heart only to break it again. But she was so young, so selfish, and so afraid. She wanted—needed—to know what it was like, before everything changed.

“I’m sure.” She’d spoken so quickly, she hadn’t had time to realize how true her words were. The truth often cuts itself free, quickly and without remorse. She was sure. “I want—”

You. He didn’t have the patience to wait for her to finish.

Bella always thought of herself as something of a prude. She’d understood sexual intercourse in a scientific way, learning the mechanical basics and hormonal components, first in her freshman biology course, then in more detail, blushing her way through four years of sex ed classes. What science and facts couldn’t tell her was the difference between mating and making love. 

At first, Jacob had made love to her, slowly and gently; a man caught up in just her; relishing her skin, worshiping her curves, drowning in her scent, reveling in each precious part of her. He couldn’t stop the whispered awe tumbling out of his mouth. He’d tried so hard to make it about her, she didn’t mind when it hurt a little, or when the tension between them built, the pace suddenly changing. His eyes flickered darker and she’d seen his wolf reflected there, demanding its share, its mate. She’d laid her hand on his face and nodded. She wasn’t afraid of the wolf or the man. He’d flipped her over and mated her, until she gasped and trembled, shaking underneath him in a sea of warmth she couldn’t imagine if she’d tried. Then she’d felt the sting of his teeth on her shoulder, and then warmth of his tongue, then his lips. They’d collapsed onto their sides, the night wind blowing sweetly over the sweat dusting their skin.

“Wow.” His simple utter delight and astonishment helped her to smile, even as tears had gathered in her eyes. They had laid there, their bodies connected for much longer than she knew was normal.  She’d wriggled a little, trying to pull free. “Sorry.” He kissed her neck. “It’s kind of a—”

“Wolf thing?” She finished for him.

"Yeah." He chuckled and kissed the spot on her right shoulder where his teeth had left their faint mark. “Did I hurt you, honey?” 

He didn’t hurt her. He was Jake and she was Bells. She had hurt him.

“Ouch,” she sucked in a breath and sat up in bed, rubbing her side. “Get your little paw off my ribs,” she growled. Her baby’s foot was securely lodged beneath her ribcage, the pressure sending a sharp jolt of pain through her muscles. She gently pushed the heel of her hand down on the spot until the baby shifted it's feet. Sometimes the warmth coursing through her body reminded her of what it was like to be held, to be loved, an echo of what she’d had before throwing it all away. “I hope you look like him,” she whispered, hugging her stomach again. Jacob had begged her to stay, to run away with him, tears he refused to shed making his eyes shine in the gray dawn.

“We can run, Bells,” he’d grabbed her hand. “Run and not look back. Please.”

“I can’t,” 

“Can’t or won’t?” His grip was firm, but never too tight. “You’re mine now, Bells, and I’m yours.”

“I’m not yours,” she snapped. “I’ll never be yours.”

Jacob’s face had turned ashen, his eyes dark with anger. She thought she saw the sun glint off a wetness on his cheek when he turned and ran. She’d shut her eyes against his pain, but she heard the unnatural gut crunching sound as he shifted and kept on running. She’d stumbled back through the woods, refusing to let herself cry, even when she heard the anguished howl of his wolf. Maybe if she had cried then, he would’ve heard her and come back. Maybe things could’ve been different.

For three days she pretended it hadn't happened, pretended she hadn't betrayed Edward or broken Jacob, pretended she knew exactly what she wanted. Then Sam and Paul and Jared had found her after the wedding. She didn’t have a chance to say anything, but she didn’t need to. Paul and Jared’s expressions held so much anger and bitterness, but Sam looked tired and old in away that made Bella feel oddly guilty. 

“Care to dance?” Sam’s request took her by surprise, but Edward had agreed, with an air of uncaring superior confidence that made Bella even more uneasy. 

Sam’s hands were hot, burning through the silky fabric of her dress. Like Jacob’s. She shook her head, trying to focus on Sam. He looked mildly uncomfortable in his wrinkled button-down. None of the wolves were used to wearing more than was absolutely necessary. “Nice shirt.”

“Nice dress.” He glanced over her again, his face etched with sadness. His eyes dropped to her shoulder, and Bella had covered it with one hand, as if she could hide the evidence of her crime. “It shouldn’t be white.” 

She’d gasped at his words. Of course the pack already knew what she’d done with Jacob. They’d seen it the moment he shifted and ran.

“Don’t judge me, Sam Uley,” she’d said, shoving him with both hands. It was like shoving a brick wall. “Don’t you dare.”

“Bella,” She knew Sam had a soft spot for her. And he knew what is was like to have his heart torn in two. "Don't."

“You left Leah for her cousin, so don’t you fucking tell me you had no choice.”

“I did have a choice.” Pain etched deeper in his face. 

Emily Young had been Sam’s first everything when he was only fifteen; a summer love affair that ended badly when her father caught them together. She broke his heart, told Sam not to call her, and then was gone. He’d held onto her memory for two years, angry and bitter. Then he’d met Leah Clearwater when he was seventeen and his heart healed, little by little, until Emily’s memory faded. After he shifted into a wolf, he’d kept Leah in the dark. Secrets breed lies and lies break trust. When Emily suddenly came back, like a ghost from his past, Sam had mated her in a moment of stupid passion. As a wolf he’d chosen Emily, even while his heart was tied to Leah. Regret ate at him, but he couldn’t take it back. Their's was an Alpha bond and couldn't be broken; they were in it for life, until one of them died, or Sam was overthrown as Alpha. When Leah shifted and finally learned the whole truth, she was devastated. 

“I chose wrong.” He raised his chin. "So did you."

“You bastard," 

“Jacob's gone, Bella.” Sam interrupted.

“Gone?” She stared at him, her fingers digging into his arms. “Can’t you make him come back?”

“He broke with the pack.”

“He—you didn't stop him?”

“I tried,” Sam met her gaze. Bella’s eyes widened. If Jake had truly broken with the pack, Alpha commands and pack loyalty, could no longer hold him. Sam nodded, answering her unspoken question, “It’s rare, but it can happen.” He sighed, dropping his hands. “We can’t hear him anymore either.”

Bella stared. The shared pack mind was the strangest part of the Quileute wolves, binding them together when they were in wolf form. If they couldn't hear Jacob then—

“But he’ll be back, won’t he? What happens when he comes back?”

“If,” Sam said sharply. “If he comes back. He'll be an Alpha.”

“But you’re the—”

“There’ll be a fight,” Sam growled. "One of us will lose."

“F-fight?” Her eyes widened. “No, you’re pack brothers, Sam. You can't—Jake wouldn't—”

“There can only be one Alpha.” He turned and headed for the woods where she could see Paul and Jared waiting.

“But he’ll come back, won’t he?” She’d called after him, suddenly desperate for his assurance. “Sam?”

Sam turned at the edge of the clearing, “Are you sure you want that, leech lover?” There was frost in his words, and a challenge. She realized then she didn’t know what she wanted and never had. But it had been too late.

"Almost too late," Bella shifted slowly and lifted her hand to brush the curve of the dream catcher which hung from her headboard. It was funny now, to see all the pieces Jacob had left behind. They all found her again, slowly and surely, like flowers pushing up through the frozen ground. She didn’t know who’d sent her the old dream catcher Jake had given her on her eighteenth birthday. Probably Charlie. She might be invisible, but her father wasn’t stupid, and he must know where she was. If he didn’t know, he’d tear apart the world looking for her. But he hadn’t called or written. He never did unless he was worried. Sending the dream catcher was his own way of quietly loving her when she needed it the most.

“I love you.”

Jacob had been right. Sometimes words lie, especially when shades of meaning are buried within them. She’d said those same words to Charlie, to Renée, to her friends, to Edward, and to Jacob. Each time it meant something a little different. Love had lied to her until her mind whispered that what she felt for Edward was irrevocable, unchanging, immortal. Maybe it was, but whatever it was, she could no longer call it love. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find the right word for what she'd felt, to replace the lie. A vampire thing, she thought grimly. Humans words simply didn’t fit. It wasn’t the same.

She closed her eyes, one hand resting on the heat of her stomach.

“I love you.”

I love you, Bells.

It wasn't the same.

Chapter Text

The wolf spat the leech’s head from its mouth and shook itself. A slight vibrating tremble ran down the wolf’s back, and it shuddered before the skin slivered in on itself, leaving the heaving form of a man. Jacob's breath clouded around his face but he barely felt the cold. He knelt and meticulously dismembered the now-headless body. He wondered briefly about who the bloodsucker had been before its heart stopped cold. It was female; dark brown hair, pale skin, petite frame.

Bells.

He flinched away from the vacant face. It wasn't Bella, but it was hard not to see her everywhere. He blinked hard, firmly pushing the enticing memories into the back of his mind. She was still alive. But maybe tonight would be her last. She'd been so adamant about become one of them, of trading her humanity for monstrous immortality.

Not tonight. Please, honey, just wait.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold the wave of panic back. He hadn’t begged anyone for anything since he was nine years old when his mother died. But his mother's spirit guardian hadn’t listened to his pleas, and he’d learned the hard way that begging makes you too damn vulnerable. But he’d done it again. For her. His Bells.

“I’m begging you, honey. Please," he'd held her tight before she shoved him away. There was still fight in her, like a spark dwindling in the drizzle of a steady rain. If only he could fan it into a flame, maybe she would— "Please, Bells, don’t let them do this to you."

“What do want from me, Jake?” Her expression had cut like a knife. She was so scared he could smell it pouring off of her, and yet she fought him like an animal fights for its life. 

“I want you to live,” he said, hating the pleading edge in his voice.  “I want you to choose me and fucking live.”

"Goodbye, Jacob."

Her words were like a cold poison creeping through his body. Her choice suffocated him. He couldn't say anything, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. This was her choice, and he hated it. But that's the thing about choices; you can’t make them for other people, and it's stupid to try. 

Jacob shook off his memories and scanned the ravine, his eyes picking out an outcropping that would protect a fire from the wind. The sun was breaking through the trees by the time he’d managed to coax enough of a spark from two dry sticks, to burn the monster’s remains to ashes. His heart sped up as the first warm rays melted over his skin. Please. Stay human for one more day. I need another day. Please. Just one more day. Sometimes he thought he was asking her. Other times he thought he was begging the spirits or even the filthy bloodsuckers. In the end it didn't matter. He would never stop begging for her life and—

Jake.

A broken breath tore out of him. "Bells." 

He sat and rested his head in hands, until his heart stopped racing. 269 days.

Chapter Text

A dog barked, then howled, the sounds crawling under her skin. She didn’t want to wake up. Another stray joined in. Then another, the three canine voices blending into a mellow sadness. Bella shivered, blinking hard against the sting of tears. The sun had just broken over the horizon, shining bright and warm into the groggy world. She pulled on one of Jake’s old black t-shirts and stared out towards the ocean. What little sleep she’d managed was haunted with the echoes of wolves. She rubbed a hand over her stomach in a silent good morning and hauled herself to her feet. She could smell eggs and bacon frying. She shuffled slowly down the stairs, grimacing at an odd, tightening sensation in her lower back.  

“Hungry, honey?” Renée glanced up from the morning paper when Bella didn’t answer. “Bella?”

“No,” Bella took a breath and managed a smile. “Not hungry.”

Phil raised his eyebrows and shot her mother a side glance. “But I made bacon.”

"Thanks, Phil." Bella frowned as her stomach clenched and shuffled to the fridge. “I’ll just have juice this morning.” She always was in the mood for orange juice. 

“Bella, honey,”

“Please don’t call me 'honey',” Bella snapped. Renée blinked a few times and Bella felt a firm twinge of guilt. She set the carton down with a sigh, “I’m sorry, Renée. It’s not you, it’s just—”

“Jacob.” Renée said stiffly. It had been Jacob's name for her since they were little kids making mud pies together. Her mother looked up and gave her a look Bella didn’t understand. “Why didn’t you tell us it was him?”

“You knew?”

 Renée shrugged. “I guessed.” For all her questions and curiosity, Renée had deliberately never mentioned Jacob Black and neither did Bella. Her mother must’ve guessed from the beginning that it was him, and not Edward. “Did you really?”

“I did.” Bella folded her arms, her juice forgotten, letting her mother and step-father sit with the truth. She absently brushed at her shoulder. Unlike the scar on her arm, the pink mark on her shoulder hadn’t faded. Sometimes she thought it had darkened, almost hot to the touch. Like it was now. “I wanted him.”

“But Edward—”

“Renée,” Bella blinked away sudden tears. “Please don’t. Don’t be angry with Jacob or Edward.” She tugged at her shirt, dropping her eyes. “It’s me. It was all me.”

A thick tension bloomed between them as Bella waited for her mother’s disappointment and censure. But it didn’t come. They just sat there in the silence until a sudden sharp knock at the door broke through like a gust of cold wind. Phil excused himself to answer it, while Bella continued to watch her mother.

“Jacob doesn’t even know,” Renée said, finally looking up. It wasn’t a question. Bella shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Where is he now, Bella?”

“Canada,” a sharp clear voice said. Bella turned and stared as Leah and Sue Clearwater walked into the small brightly lit kitchen. “I’d bet money on Northern Alberta,” Leah said. She raised her chin, studying Bella with a clear stoic kindness that felt like a burst of fresh forest air. "Hey stranger."

“Leah?” Bella couldn’t make her voice work right. “Sue? You—what are you,” Before she could finish Leah sprang forward and yanked her into a crushing hug, the kind that screams without words. Bella clung to her. “How did you know where I—”

“Your mother called Charlie.” Sue smiled gently. “She thought you would want us at the end.”

Bella shook her head, not quite able to believe what she was hearing. She turned to look at her mother, who was smiling sheepishly. “I thought you were Team Edward.” It spilled out before Bella could stop it. 

“I never said that.” Her mother blushed a little. “I just,” she shrugged, “I think he’s handsome.”

“He smells like a skunk’s ass,” Leah rolled her eyes, and grabbed Bella’s wrist, pulling her towards the patio. “We need to talk.”

Bella tried not to fidget as Sue and Leah made themselves comfortable. Leah was watching her with that singular intensity Bella had always admired about her. Leah’s eyes flicked over her, “You’re huge, Swan.”

“Thanks,” Bella rolled her eyes, grateful for Leah’s bullshit cutting directness. “ H-how are you? How’s Charlie and,” she bit her lip, “and Billy?”

“Charlie sends his love,” Sue laid a gentle hand on Bella’s arm. “He wants you home. Billy too.”

Bella’s smile tightened, and she nodded, “I know, but I can’t Sue. Not yet,”

“Which is why we’re here,” Sue’s voice was calm and soothing. “We’re here for you, in your time.”

“M-my time?”

“The birth.” Sue reached out and laid a hand on Bella’s stomach. “It will be soon.” 

Leah’s hand settled on top of Sue’s, and Bella choked back a sob. “I—I don’t understand.”

“There can only be one Alpha,” Leah said, her eyes flashing. “And one Alpha female.”

“Sam said that too,” Bella hesitated. She'd returned to Sam Uley’s words again and again and again. He was warning her or challenging her. The spot on her shoulder burned, and she rubbed it nervously.

“You, Bella. You and Jacob,” Leah said it like it was a foundational fact. One Alpha, one Alpha female. I'm Jake and you're Bells. “Yours is the first pup of our pack.”

“B-but what about Sam and Emily?”

“Emily can go suck a dick,” Leah snapped. “It’s you Bella. It’s always been you and Jacob. Sam knows it, Emily knows it.”

Bella hugged her belly tighter. I'm yours now, Bells, and you're mine. Maybe it should’ve been obvious, especially when she'd started to smell things she shouldn’t be able to smell, and hear things she shouldn’t be able to hear, and see things in the dark she shouldn’t be able to see. Being Jacob's had changed her. That was the meaning of his warning before they mated. If Jacob ever returned to La Push and took his place as Alpha, their bond would become much more; an Alpha bond. Bella shook her head, sad, resigned.

“It’s not that simple, Leah.”

“It is.” Leah smiled. “You’ll see.”

“Could you forgive Sam?” Bella demanded. “After everything he’s done to you and just go on like nothing happened?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Leah narrowed her eyes, her grip on Bella tightening, “But I know Jacob—”

"You don't know anything." Bella said bitterly. It had taken her months to realize she knew nothing for certain, and the more she sat in her uncertainty the more fragile everything in life seemed. Everything except this moment, with Sue and Leah, and her baby. This moment was all she could hold on to.

“He'll find you,” Leah's voice was firm, unwavering. “You’re his. And he’s yours.”

Jake.

And for the first time in almost a year, Bella allowed herself to believe—to hope— for just a short moment, that Leah Clearwater might be right. That somehow, their bond would bring her Jake back to her.

Jake, come home.

But she couldn’t let her hopes linger, and shoved them away. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, but her heart wasn't in it. “Sam will need you back home.”

Leah rolled her eyes, “You’re such an idiot, Swan.” She pushed herself to her feet and walked out towards the beach. Bella pushed herself to her feet and followed her. The sand underfoot shifted oddly with Bella’s awkward weight, but she didn’t fall. Leah turned to watch her approach. When Bella finally reached the water’s edge, Leah let out a low laugh, “I thought you’d land on your ass by now.”

“A lot of things have changed.” Bella said softly. Most women struggled with their sense of balance when pregnant. Her balance had dramatically improved, as if she’d finally found her center, her gravity, and the world was settled around her. “I’m sorry, Leah.”

“You should be.” Leah had never been one to pull her punches or soften her words. For once Bella was glad. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I—I guess I wasn’t, really.”

Leah scowled, “That’s not good enough.” She folded her arms “What the hell was so damned wonderful about your moody sparkle-boy?” Leah looked the same way Sam Uley had the night of her wedding. Cold and challenging. Demanding the truth.

“I don’t know,”

“You do,” Leah insisted. “Say it.”

“I—I wanted to be—” Bella shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She slowly lowered herself onto the sand and looked at her step-sister. Her friend. When had Leah Clearwater become her friend? “I wanted to be special. Different. More than just me, you know?”

“A self-centered klutz with emotional attachment and anxiety issues?” 

“Edward saw me, he wanted me. I was everything to him,” Bella shrugged. “He loved me, and that was so nice.”

“You were a curiosity, something to puzzle and obsess over,” Leah spat. “Like a rare painting or a sculpture or,” she growled in her throat, “ or an exotic animal.”

“A pet,” Bella chuckled. 

“God, yes,” Leah shook back her hair and sat down next to her on the damp sand. “How could you think his obsession with you was love?” 

“I,” Bella almost couldn’t answer, shame clogging her throat. “I was seventeen, Lee.” 

“Like I said; you're an idiot,” she snorted. “You’re damn lucky Jacob knocked you up before that emo bloodsucker did.”

“Edward couldn’t knock me up,” Bella grumbled, incredulous and annoyed. “He can’t ejaculate.”

"He what?" Leah’s eyes widened and they stared at each other for a second before they both started laughing, deep belly laughs, over the absurdity of it all. They laughed and laughed, until they collapsed back into the sand, gasping for air, the tears rolling down their cheeks. It felt good, and right, and normal, to lay in the sand laughing away their burdens. 

“I have three words for you, Swan.” Leah was still giggling, “Dump. His. Ass.”

“I didn’t even have a chance,” Bella turned a little and tried to punch Leah’s arm. “He practically sprinted in the opposite direction.”

“You probably smelled awful.” Leah wrinkled her nose. “Like a wolf.”

"That's exactly what they said."

"Damn." They were quiet again. Then Leah turned, “Do you regret it?” 

“No,” Bella pushed herself into an awkward sitting position and stared out at the sea. “And yes.”

“I wanted to hate you.” Leah sat up, her expression serious and sincere. Bella waited. “Except I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You smell like Jacob, like the pack, only not as strong.” Leah chuckled. “It’s kind of a—”

“A wolf thing?”

Leah nodded. “I’m pretty sure I’d murder anyone or anything that gets too near you right now.” She smiled wide, almost bearing her teeth. “Protective pack instinct.”

“Thanks, I guess."

They sat for another silent moment and then Bella heard Leah sigh, “I’m glad Jacob finally left Sam’s pack. We left too."

"Left—Leah, why?"

"Why not?" Leah retorted. 

"Who else?"

"Seth. He was so angry mom wouldn't let him come with us to find you." Leah smiled and Bella blushed. "Embry and Quil left too."

"Oh." Bella didn't know what else to say. The simple loyalty to Jacob almost hurt.

"That doesn't mean we're not furious with you. You have no idea what it was like for Jacob when he thought you’d—”

“That I would die,” Bella finished. “When he thought I’d chosen to be one of them.”

Leah nodded, “I've never felt anything like it.” She picked up a small stick and began to rip at the smooth surface with her nails. “We tried to follow him, tried to talk to him, to help, but he wouldn't let us. And then he was gone. We could hear him in the pack mind for a while, but then he got too far away.”

“Canada?"

Leah shrugged. "It's only a guess."

"Did he hate me?” Bella asked. Leah looked up, studying her intensely. Bella held herself steady. She had to know, had to see what she’d done, even if the truth cut to her bones. Leah would know. Bella bit her lip, “Please. Just tell me.”

“Do you think I hate Sam?” 

Bella frowned, the words hard, cold, demanding. “I—” Sometimes she’d thought Leah must hate Sam Uley for what he did. He’d taken everything from her, and thrown it away on someone else in a foolish moment of passion and heat, only to deeply regret it later when it was too late. He’d used Leah and then chosen another, and yet— “No,” Bella whispered. She looked up, recoiling from the pain and anguish written in every line of Leah’s face. “You don’t hate him at all.”

Leah slowly shook her head, “I should.” She threw the stick she was holding—hard. It splashed into the roiling waves. “I tried.” She laughed. It was a bitter sound. “But I can’t. I hate him because I love him too much.” She shrugged again. “It doesn’t make sense, you know. But I still love him and he loves me. That's why it hurts.” Then she grabbed Bella’s hand, “You have a chance.” She raised her other hand and pulled down the collar of Bella’s shirt, revealing the bright pink mark on her shoulder. “A chance I would kill to have.”

“Leah,”

“I’m glad it happened, even if it did break him.” Her voice hardened. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Bella swallowed and nodded, unable to say anything. How many times had she wished she could go back and change everything? How many nights had she wasted mourning a life that hadn’t happened? It was stupid to think about those things. Those choices were gone, lost in the finality of the choices she had made. All those decisions had lead her here, to this moment, on this beach, with Leah Clearwater. She was still Bella Swan. She was still human. To wish for anything else was to continue pretending that she wasn’t responsible for the shape of her own life. Her fingers ran over the mark on her shoulder. It was so hot it almost burned.

“How long will you stay?” 

“Until you tell me to leave.” Leah stood and held out her hand, hauling Bella to her feet. “Or until you annoy me too much.”

Chapter Text

Jake.

"Bells," He bolted awake and half fell out of his bunk. He shook himself and glanced around. Sunrise. He pressed eyes closed, waiting. Please. His wolf tensed, searching for her, across the bond they'd made. And then he found her warmth.

Jake, come home.

It was haunting echo that warmed his skin. His heart rate slowed and he grabbed his notebook. 270 days and she was still alive. He frowned, glaring at the lines of tally marks. Why was she still alive? "What game are you bastards playing?" he muttered under his breath.

“Hey, kid,” a graveled old voice hollered into the bunk house. “Get your lazy Indian ass up.”

“Fuck you, Danjo,” he growled back.

"Kiss my ass, Sitting Bull."

Jacob tossed aside his notebook and almost grinned. Whoever said Canadians were generally friendly and welcoming had never met Danjo Peters. Or loggers in general. Most days Jake didn't mind it. The work was hard, but the money was fair, and no one gave enough shits to ask him too many questions. He was strong, he didn't get sick, and he kept his mouth shut. He rolled to his feet, yanked on his grimy pair of jeans, his discarded flannel shirt, and his work boots, his stomach growling. He’d earned his right to be there and mostly the other loggers left him alone. All except Danjo.

"Asshat," Jacob shoved past the old man.

“How many days is it today?”

The question slammed into Jacob hard enough to stop him in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder back at Danjo, who now held the little notebook. Jacob had forgotten to stash it back in his bunk.

“Give me that.” It was a low threatening command, laced in a forceful echo that sank into a person's bones.

Danjo raised his eyebrows, his face paling. “Watch your mouth, Squanto.”

“Try me, old man,” Jacob turned and let the full force of his height and muscle loom down on the older man. He was used to Danjo's slurs and usually he didn't pay him any mind. The man was a mean cuss to everyone. But this was too far. “Say one more word,” Jacob growled. "I dare you."

Danjo flinched back, stumbling a little and Jacob snatched the book from the man’s hands.

“Who is she?” Danjo tried to sound as if he hadn't almost shit his pants. But his voice shook. “That chick.”

“She's my—" But he couldn't finish.

On a good day, Jacob pretended the picture taped inside the front cover wasn’t there. It was a half-fuzzy thing he'd found on the Forks Gazette website, and hated himself for printing. On bad days, when the worry and guilt and fear gutted him from the inside out, until he thought he would explode into his wolf form at the slightest irritation, Jacob would sit and stare at her picture. Bells. He would remember her quiet smile, the strawberry-sage scent of her hair, the cold delicate feel of her body against his, and the sad shadow in her eyes. Sometimes that helped. Most of the time it didn’t.

Danjo narrowed his eyes. "Your what?"

"Mine." His wolf snarled inside, itching to be let loose from the tight grip Jacob kept him under. mine. mine. mine. His best friend, his heart, his mate, his Bells. "She was mine." 

"So she dumped you."

"I guess so."

"She cheat on you?"

Jacob almost smiled at that. But he shook his head slowly. "Not quite."

"Bitch," Danjo snapped and shuffled past him. "Let her go, kid. You're worth ten of her."

mine. His wolf growled, but Jacob said nothing. A year ago he would've said he was worth nothing without her. A stupid, lovestruck idiot kid. He was still stupid, and still an idiot, he just wasn't lovestruck anymore. He wasn't a kid either. That kind of love was for a boy with nothing but time, and hormones to burn, with his whole life ahead of him, with hope and dreams and plans. Jacob had grown up too fast to be that skinny ass teenage boy who was stupid in love with his childhood best friend. He might be barely nineteen but he felt ninety. Ninety-year-old men don't break their hearts or their lives over a woman. But that doesn't mean they stop loving her either. His wolf growled again. mine. 

I love you, Bells.

Chapter Text

After her conversation with Leah on the beach, a strange sort of restlessness settled over Bella. What little sleep she gleaned at night was laced with memories and dreams, until she felt haunted. She dreamed of Jacob; his laughter, his sunny smile, and his dark eyes that had always seen her. She dreamed of the woods and sea surrounding La Push, almost hearing the thunderous waves as they echoed over the cliffs. She thought she could almost smell the sharp acrid smoke of the Quileute bonfires, and taste the salt on the wind. On the third night after the Clearwater’s arrival, Bella’s dreams woke her with a gasp. She was covered in sweat and goose-flesh, her aching body suddenly chilled and cold. She hadn’t been cold since her sham wedding day, and she shied away from her bed, yanking on a shirt and bathrobe. 

She shuffled quietly down the stairs and stepped into the warm night, the wind lifting her hair, drying the sweat on her skin. The odd aching chill in her bones eased a little as she walked, and Bella let her eyes drift half closed. She’d stayed with Phil and Renée because she’d felt safe, hidden, alone. She’d known the feeling would fade, but now she felt—lost. She frowned. Not lost, exactly. Misplaced, uprooted, adrift; as if the land beneath her feet had become liquid, shifting under her, tossing her back into the world, like the sea tosses a ship without an anchor. This place was wrong now. Bella turned her face to the ocean. The sea was wrong too. 

Near silent footfalls were all that betrayed Leah’s presence, in wolf form. Bella turned and stared at Leah’s wolf, her silver coat glinting when the moon broke through the clouds.

“You must rest, little mother,” Sue’s voice drifted out of the darkness. She stepped out from Leah’s shadow. 

“I can’t,” Bella said, and the words were sharp, cutting her loose from the last mooring of her old self. This wasn’t her place anymore, and this wasn’t her sea. “I don’t belong here,” Bella said firmly. Now that she’d found the words, she felt an aching tugging pull inside her to run away, far away, from here. “I have to go.” Leah tilted her wolf head to one side and glanced at Sue. Bella could almost smell the tension between them. She’d let Jacob run away from her, while she’d run as hard as she could in the opposite direction. The pack was used to her running from them. But this restlessness was different. “I have to go back—” Bella throat closed around the word ‘home’ before she could say it. She wasn’t certain if she meant Forks or La Push or Jacob.

I love you, Bells.

In a hidden corner of herself, Bella knew wherever Jacob Black was, she would find her way there. He wasn’t in Forks or La Push, but it was as close as she could get to him. He would come back, and she needed to be there when he did. She wouldn’t run from her choices or their consequences anymore. Sue smiled, a gentle knowing look, and reached for Bella’s hand.

“We will go with you, little mother.”

“Now.” Bella said, the word falling down sharp and immovable. “Tonight.”

Leah snorted, a happy contented wolf sound, and bounded away towards the darkened bungalow.

“We’ll pack a bag and leave a note for your mother,” Sue said, walking alongside Bella. Her firm leathery hand shifted under Bella’s elbow, supporting her. “It’s a four day drive to La Push.”

When they reached the house, Leah sprang from the house, and almost slammed into them, growling, a deep threatening grumble in her throat. Even with Leah in human form, the sound sent chills running along Bella’s spine.

“Lee?” Sue’s voice was strained. 

Bella knew the answer even before Leah hissed, “Bloodsucker.”

“Wait,” Sue gripped her daughter’s arm before she could shift. “How many?”

“One,” Leah sniffed. “Possibly two. Less than half a mile south.” Her head swung in the direction of the road. “Don’t wait for me.” She shrugged out of her mother’s grasp, shifting with a wrench of bone and shredded clothes, disappearing into the humid night.

“I’ll pack your things.”

Bella nodded as Sue headed for the stairs. She grabbed a pen and a yellow legal pad from Phil’s desk, scribbling a quick note for Renée. She sealed it in an envelope and was about to slip it under her mother’s bedroom door just as Sue appeared. Sue held a small purple duffel bag and Bella’s threadbare backpack from high school. Bella hesitated, frowning, then crumpled the note in one hand. She knocked gently on her mother’s door. Renée had taken her in when she was lost and had no where else to go. Bella couldn’t leave now and not say goodbye in person. 

“Bella,” Renée’s sleepy face appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened. “Is it the baby? Should I get Phil?”

“No, I—I have to go, Renée.” Bella said gently, and took her mother’s hand. She gave it a squeeze, silently praying Renée would understand. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Go?” Her mother frowned. And then she nodded, her eyes softening. “Back home?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is he back?” Renée looked over Bella’s shoulder towards Sue. “Is Jacob home again?”

“He will come,” Sue said, nodding.

Bella bit her lip, squeezing her mother’s hand a little harder, wondering if Renée noticed that Sue hadn’t actually answered her question. “I’ll call when I get to Charlie’s. I promise.”

“You do that,” Renée said, and then surprised Bella by pulling her into a quick, fierce hug. “Be happy, baby. I love you.”

They found Leah pacing in front of Sue’s sliver pickup truck, her own silver fur standing on end, her bright eyes glued to the south road. Bella sniffed the wind, but she couldn’t smell anything other than sea, and salt, and people. Sue helped Bella into the passenger side, then gunned the engine, the grumbling roar ripping through the quiet night. It was risky, but Leah slunk alongside them, mile after mile, keeping easy pace with the truck as it sped west.

Bella’s eyes drifted closed as she listened to the loping gate of Leah’s paws, and the pant of her breath as she ran. So fast.

“Vampires are fast, Jake.” She'd tried to make him understand. She hadn’t wanted him in that fight. She hadn’t wanted any of the pack to fight for her.

“We’re faster,” he had snapped back, grinning. “We’re built for this, Bells. Trust me.”

She had trusted him, not just with her safety, but with parts of herself she’d never shown anyone. Jake knew her secrets and her shame, her dreams and her fears, the important things and the stupid things. He knew she loved photography and cooking and Pokémon; he knew she believed in God and angels and demons, but never told anyone, worried she'd be made fun of; he knew she secretly loved dark purple nail polish and mascara, but pretended she didn’t; he knew she wanted a tattoo of a lioness but was too chicken to get one; he knew she had no plans for her career and that terrified her; he knew she watched the same ten movies over and over, but never listened to the same song twice in one month; he knew her fear of death had started in the fifth grade when she'd had nightmares of Charlie suddenly dying, after his mother Sarah had passed away.

“I know you, Bells,” he’d whispered to her in the tent the night before the newborn battle. “I don’t need to read your mind to know you better than that leech ever could.”

Maybe that was actually why she’d asked him to kiss her the next morning. She’d told herself it was only to keep him alive as long as possible. She knew now he wouldn’t have kissed her, if that’s all she wanted. That kiss had changed everything, for better, for worse. It had uncovered the hidden part of her soul she’d pretended wasn’t there. Somehow he knew. He’d known all along, even as she pushed him away, breaking him with her words. She'd kept on trying to pretend everything was the same with Edward. But it wasn't.

A few minutes—or was it hours?—later, she heard a change in Leah’s pace. Bella opened her eyes, catching a flash of silver fur as the wolf darted ahead and veered off into a clump of trees lining the highway. Sue pulled the truck over, waiting. Leah appeared a moment later, naked and panting. She leaned against the truck, her head filling the open window.

“Lee?”

“They’re following us,” Leah almost snarled, her body trembling. 

“They?”

“Two of them.” Leah bared her teeth, glaring over her shoulder. “Definitely two. They've been keeping perfect pace. I can’t,” Leah paused and glanced at her mother, “I can’t take two on my own.”

Bella blinked at the humble admission. Leah Clearwater was as fierce a protector as any of the male members of her pack. She had anger and bitterness as well as her pride to fuel her—but that pride had come with a price which Jacob had paid. Bella shivered, wishing should could stop the memory of his gut wrenching screams as his shattered bones were forced back into place after the newborn battle. He'd done it for her. And for Leah. They both knew he would've done it again, without a second thought. Leah’s eyes flicked up and they were full of regret. "We need to get to La Push. And fast."

Bella nodded and shoved the truck door open, “Get in.” Leah started to shake her head. 

“I'll run.”

“No,” Bella’s jaw clenched and she slid over to make room, “Get in, Leah.” 

Leah scowled, her body jerking forward. She collapsed onto the seat and Sue handed her daughter a blanket from the back. They exchanged an odd glance over Bella's head. She ignored them, her mind racing. What happened next was her decision to make. She knew Sue and Leah would follow her lead. “How far back are the leeches?”

Leah raised her eyebrows, “A mile, maybe less.”

“Sleep,” Bella ordered. She could guess who was following them, but she wasn’t afraid. She laid her hand on her stomach and felt the muscles slowly harden. "We'll know if they get any closer." Then she turned to Sue, “We drive until we run out of gas.”

“Are you ready, little mother?”  There was a smile in Sue’s voice, and an edge of pride. 

Bella nodded. Even if she wasn’t, her months of invisibility had run out. 

Chapter Text

Jacob stared at the underside of the bunk, his eyes tracing the details of the plywood in the dark, over and over. His wolf was restless, pacing the cage of Jacob’s skin. It wanted out. Jacob refused to move. His wolf was always pacing, nudging him back home, back to La Push, back to Bella. Ever since he’d mated her, his wolf wanted her nearby. The only thing that distracted it was the hunt, and there were no more distractions now.

“She’s not there.” He muttered, and turned firmly onto his stomach. Talking to his wolf always made him feel slightly crazy. As if his life wasn’t already peppered with the unbelievable, here he was talking to a wolf spirit that inhabited his body because he'd inherited some crazy shapeshifting gene. “You’re a fucked up mess, Jacob Black. Why not add certifiably insane to the list?” His wolf growled, and shoved at him again. Harder. Jacob felt his skin vibrating. He took a deep breath, held it, focusing his mind.

Bella.

The wolf bared its teeth and Jacob tightened his fists. mine. mine. mine.

“Shut. Up.”

He didn't sleep that night and he didn't dare allow his wolf out, to run off steam. So he laid in the dark waiting for dawn. His wolf whined with anxiety, tugging and pulling at him. bella. bella. bella.

Jacob was wound tighter than a rusty spring, when night slowly slipped into morning. His wolf paused its pacing. Jacob held his breath.

273 days.

Bella

mine. mine. mine.

Chapter Text

Four days in a truck cab was a new sort of torture for Bella. The longer the road stretched before them, the more she felt squeezed together, pushed and confined, the restless uneasiness building until she thought she would break. Leah was worse. Bella knew she would’ve run herself ragged if they'd let her, but they couldn’t. Not with vampires so close.

“Is it them?” Leah demanded the second night.

“I don’t know,” Bella said truthfully. She couldn’t smell them like Leah could. “It might not be.”

She couldn’t decide which would be worse.

“If it comes to a fight, you run,” Leah growled on the third night. She’d taken a shift driving so Sue could sleep. It was nearly dawn, and Leah was so tense, Bella could almost smell it. “You run, and don’t look back.”

“Have you ever seen a pregnant lady run, Lee?”

Leah shot her a dark glance, and then a smirk brightened her face as she snorted. Bella chuckled, pleased as the tension in the cab drained away with their laughter.

“It’s so weird,” Leah said, when their laughter died down. “You being pregnant.”

“Yeah,” Bella brushed her belly. “It’s weird for me too.” She glanced over at her. “Who told you?”

“Charlie.”

“My dad told you I was pregnant?” Bella yelped, and then slapped her hand over her mouth, glancing back at a sleeping Sue. “What the hell, Lee?”

“He overheard Sue talking to you one night,” Leah shrugged, almost sheepishly. It reminded Bella of Jacob. Since she’d left Florida, everything reminded her of him. “Sue didn’t tell him anything.” Leah continued. “He just knew. So naturally he drove straight to Billy’s to beat the shit out of Jacob.”

Bella groaned, embarrassed and yet oddly pleased that Charlie had guessed exactly who was responsible for her current dilemma. “So Billy knows?”

Leah nodded. “And Paul. He and I sort of overheard Charlie shouting at Billy.”

“Oh my God,” Bella wailed, shrinking down. “Paul?”

Leah grinned, “He had a few choice words for you and lover boy.”

Bella didn’t know which embarrassed her more. The fact that Charlie had gone patriarchal and chewed Billy out since Jacob wasn’t available or the fact that Paul Lahote knew Jacob had knocked her up. “Lee,” Bella sat up suddenly, her face red. If Paul knew, then the entire pack knew too. God, the entire rez probably knew by now. “Is there anyone in La Push who doesn’t know I’m pregnant?”

“Jacob.”

It cut deeper than Bella expected. She leaned away from Leah, her eyes drawn to the blurred trees and rocks flashing past them as the truck roared westward.

Jake.

“What did Sam say about it?”

“Sam?” Leah grumbled. “Why do you care?”

“What did he say?” Bella repeated, still staring out the window. She needed to know. “He’s still Alpha, Leah.”

“Not mine,” Leah snapped. “And he’s definitely not yours.”

“Exactly,” Bella turned. “Will there be trouble?”

Leah’s mouth dropped open for a split second before she snapped it shut. “If he makes any trouble for you, I’ll rip his throat out,” she growled. “But he won’t.”

“Lee,”

“He didn’t say anything,” Leah interrupted. “I think,” she sighed. “He looked relieved. Like someone picked a huge weight off his shoulders.” She shrugged and jerked the truck towards an exit ramp. They bumped to a rough stop, and Leah scrambled out of the driver’s seat, shedding her clothes so fast, Bella barely heard her low 'You drive,' before she was gone in a flash of silver fur.

She didn’t see Leah again until they crossed the border into Washington state. A blur of silver streaked out of the trees. Leah shook herself and let out a happy yipping bark that earned her a dark look from Sue as the wolf tore down the road, in plain sight.

“Home,” Sue murmured. “The air makes them act like puppies.”

Bella rolled down the windows and sucked in the fresh smells of pine and clay and home. Almost home. Sue was right; there was something about the feeling of the Washington air on her skin that felt right. By afternoon, the gloom had deepened, and the clouds gathered on the horizon, promising rain. About an hour outside of Forks, Bella caught the mournful howls of wolves. She tensed, listening, trying to separate out the distinctive voices. But she could only recognize Leah’s sharper soprano howl. There was an edge to their howling, like a warning.

“Will they follow us?” Sue asked.

Bella nodded. The vampires had continued to follow them, always about a mile behind, never closer, but never wavering. Leah had been on constant alert, and her mother and Bella could see she was worn to the bone. Bella frowned when the howling changed, and then suddenly stopped. Her eyes flashed to the woods that surrounded them. She couldn’t see the pack, but she knew they knew she was here, and what had followed her back home. She wondered if they were tired of her yet. She was tired of her, and all the trouble she caused.

“Bella,” Sue reached across the seat and laid a hand on her shoulder. The truck had stopped.

Bella recognized her father’s police cruiser before she caught sight of the old house. Her heart tumbled against her ribs as she took a deep choking breath. The front door swung open, and—

“Charlie.” She was out of the truck and hurrying across the yard, before the screen door closed. Charlie caught her, and hauled her into his arms. For a long bittersweet moment, she was his little girl again, and he was her dad, smelling like beer, cheap coffee, and that odd sour edge that clung to him after he’d spent all night at the station. “Charlie,” she tried to step back, to look at him, but he didn’t let go. So she relaxed against him for another long minute, and let him love her.

“Isabella Marie Swan,” Charlie’s voice was rough and thick. He kissed the top of her head and stepped back. “You’re grounded.”

Bella nodded, “I love you too, Dad.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and then let himself look her over, blushing at her very round pregnant belly. “I’m going to kill him,” he grumbled under his breath. “I swear, the second he shows that goofy face of his in Forks again, his ass is mine.”

“Charlie,” Bella took his hand and squeezed. “I’m not staying in Forks.” He frowned and pulled his hand free, crossing his arms. Then he glanced over to where his wife was still sitting in the truck, waiting for Bella to say goodbye. Charlie’s shoulders slumped. He looked tired, and older, his hair more gray than she remembered.

“Where will you go?”

“La Push.”

“He’s not back, Bells,” Charlie said in a tone much too soft for a man hell bent on demolishing the boy who’d knocked up his daughter. “No one’s seen him since,”

“Three days before the wedding.” Bella finished for him.

“Geez, Bells, only three days before?” His face was scarlet. She dropped her eyes and shrugged, her own cheeks warming. “Why didn’t you just call the whole thing off and make it easier on the poor bastard?”

“Easier on who, Charlie? Edward, who we both know you hated from day one?” She almost laughed as she watched her father’s squirm. “Or Jake?”

“Are you camping down at Billy’s?” She shook her head, letting him change the subject. They both knew he’d already forgiven Jacob, and was secretly glad it was him and not Edward. Bella shivered at the thought. “But you’ll stop in and say hello.” It wasn’t a question. “Billy's worried about you too.”

“Is he?”

Charlie grunted, “You’re practically his daughter now.”

“I guess,” she said slowly. It was a hopeful thought, a warm thought. That kind of hope was dangerous. It wasn’t Billy’s decision in the end. It wasn't hers either. But it was nice to think that maybe Billy had forgiven her. “Is he angry at me?"

"He was. But love and anger are two sides of the same coin, you know."

"You've been hanging around Sue too much," Bella smiled softly. "Can you bear to share me with Billy?”

“So long as I’m still your favorite,” her father gave her another quick hug. “Call me when you’re settled. And tell my wife I miss her too.” He waved at Sue, and then kissed Bella’s hair. “I’ll make sure the doc on the rez knows you’re coming in to see him in the next day or two.”

Bella nodded, “I’ll call him.” It was a white lie, and they both knew it. But Charlie needed it and she understood. "Call mom for me? Tell her I'm here?"

“Sure.”

She gave him another hug and turned to go.

"Bella," Charlie called after her. She paused and glanced back at him. “Welcome home, kiddo.”

Forks wasn’t quite home anymore. She nodded. It was almost home. Almost.

Chapter Text

Jacob could feel the curious gazes of his crewmates as he forced his body through the motions of the day's work. Three days. For three days, his skin boiled too hot, his wolf circling just beneath the surface, trying to force its way free. Jacob fought back, using every ounce of energy he had. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't work.

"Black," Stanley stepped away from a group of loggers watching over the saws. "You look like shit, man."

"I'm fine." If he'd had the energy to laugh, he would've. His voice sounded so flat and weak, even Stanley wouldn't believe him. 

"Call in," Stanley offered. "I'll let Danjo know." Jacob shook his head, and swayed, his wolf springing at him. "Hey, Jacob, are you—"

"Don't touch me." 

Stanley flinched back, like he'd been bit. Alpha commands didn't affect humans the same as wolves, but they still felt them. Jacob didn't even have the energy to absorb the command he'd just given. He turned and stumbled into the woods. home. He couldn't lose it now. la push. Not now. run. He wouldn't lose control. protect. He kept moving until the sun began to sink below the tree line, the cool night air washing over his too hot skin. bella. He broke through the trees into a little clearing, the night sounds deepening. mine. He threw himself onto the ground, tossing his arm over his eyes. mine! 

"No."

He was losing his mind, talking to his wolf again. Only this time he tried an Alpha command, which was so backward, it made his head hurt. Jacob tried to laugh but his wolf jumped at him, snarling, and baring its teeth. 

Jake.

He almost sprang to his feet, as if he'd been bitten.

"Bella."

mine. mine. mine!

Chapter Text

After the silver truck pulled into Billy Black’s driveway, Bella could almost feel Sue’s gaze on her skin. Bella couldn’t move, a firm immovable weight settling on her shoulders. She stared at the house, her heartbeat too loud in her ears. Sue said nothing, and simply sat with her until the porch light flicked on. It was like a jolt of electricity, forcing Bella from the silver truck. Her sneakers crunched over the loose gravel drive, her eyes glued to the grass and dirt. But she heard the squeak of Billy's chair and the slam of the screen door and the rough catch in his throat when he saw her.

Soft padding footfalls and the smell of wolf announced Leah’s presence before Bella could raise her eyes. She blinked—once—twice—grateful for Leah’s support. Then she looked up.

“Bella.”

“Hey, Billy,” her voice sounded strained, far away, as if she were speaking through a pane of thick glass. She saw the same tired look her father had worn reflected in Billy’s dark eyes. “How are you?”

He frowned a little, then sighed, “Glad to see you.”

“Are you?” It was barely a whisper. She tried to smile, “I—”

“He’s not here.” Billy cut her off. “If that’s why you’ve come.”

“I know.” She wanted to hang her head, to slink away in shame. But shame and regret wouldn’t change anything. “I’m not just here for Jake.” She held Billy’s hard stare, ignoring the sounds of padded feet as more of the pack stepped from the cover of the trees. “May I come in?”

He considered her for a long silent moment. Then he nodded and turned his chair. She barely registered the wrenching crunch of bones until she felt a warm hand on her lower back. She looked up and blinked hard, but the tears came anyway. It wasn’t Leah.

“Sam?” He was the last person she expected to see. Almost. Bella glanced around the clearing, but Leah was nowhere to be seen. “Why are you here?”

“Leeches,” he said. He nodded at Sue. His other hand slipped under Bella’s elbow, until she was cradled in his warmth. “Let’s get you inside.”

Bella allowed him to help her up the rickety stairs and into Billy’s cramped kitchen, Sue following close behind. Bella sucked in a slow painful breath, the smells and sounds and memories clear and cutting. Jacob was everywhere and nowhere. The old house was nothing but a painful echo. She almost fell into the chair Sam pulled out for her.

“Tea?” Billy offered, holding up a couple of worn mugs.

“Please.”

Sam grunted and stepped into the kitchen, his sturdy hands taking over the tea preparation. Billy rolled his chair back to the table and settled himself, studying Bella with a familiar determination. If she let herself, she could see her Jacob in that stern look.

“You look well.” He said at last. “Better than you did a year ago.”

“I’m alive.” His face never changed, but she saw the amusement spark in his eyes. He was pleased she was alive; pleased and proud. Even before Jacob had learned about the Cullens and his own wolf heritage, it had been Billy Black who’d fought for Bella’s humanity. “You were right,” she reached out across the table, and laid her hand on his. “I owe you one, Billy.”

Then he did smile, even if it was a little begrudging, and he took her hand. “If my grandbaby’s a boy, name him after me.”

She chuckled and squeezed his hand, “Charlie would have a fit.”

“Charlie Swan can kiss my ass,” Billy’s smile softened, and she knew she was forgiven. “Give him the middle name.”

“It could be a girl,” Sue commented, setting down two steaming mugs of tea.

Sam snorted and Bella stiffened. She’d almost forgotten he was there. The mood in the room slowly shifted, silence descended over them like a weight. Sam waited until Sue settled and gave him a small nod, then he joined them at the table, his dark eyes fixed on Bella. But still he said nothing. Bella crossed her arms, glaring right back.

“Say something, Sam.”

“You’re being here is a problem.”

“I know.”

“You were followed by—”

“I know, Sam.” Bella interrupted. “Get to the point.”

He scowled at her, a low rumble in his throat. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she had an odd urge to growl back. 

“Wherever you go, those bloodsuckers follow,” he finally said. “There are two of them at the treaty line.”

She stiffened, a protective hand shifting to rest on her stomach. “Are they?” 

“They’re asking for you, leech lover,” Paul Lahote’s deep voice came from the back door. He tramped inside, Jared, and two younger boys on his heels.

"Back off, Paul."

“Why? We don’t even know if that thing she’s carrying is Quileute or something worse—”

A snarling growl interrupted Paul before he could finish. “Fuck you, Lahote,” Leah came storming into the kitchen, Seth, Quil, and Embry following. “Get your nose out of your tight ass and take a whiff.” Leah glared around the room. “She reeks of Jacob.”

“This is his house,” Sam added quietly. “She's wearing his clothes."

"She's carrying his pup."

"Without him, all we have is her word.”

“You’ve got some nerve, Uley,”

“Lee, don’t,” Bella said, her voice low and hard. Leah’s mouth snapped shut and the other werewolves looked up, startled. “Paul’s right.”

“Is he?” Sam asked.

“You don’t trust me.” She’d felt the edge of an echo in his voice, crawling along her skin. She didn’t like it. “I’ve lied, gone behind your back with your worst enemies, and,” she swallowed, looking at Billy, “I’ve hurt Jake in the worst way, which hurts you all.” The room settled into a new kind of silence. “All you have is my word about my baby. I don’t blame you for not trusting it. I wouldn’t.”

“Jacob would,” Seth Clearwater said quietly. “He always trusted you. So do I.”

“Yeah, look where that got him,” Jared said.

“Bella’s word is good enough for me too.” Embry cut in. “Besides, we all saw what happened. Jacob mated her.”

Billy raised his eyebrows at Sue, who nodded. Bella blushed, the mark on her shoulder burning hot, but she still felt a tug of gratitude and affection; for Embry, Quil, Seth, and Leah. Even for the other wolves. They were here for her even after she’d abandoned them all. Her belly tightened under her hands. She knew she didn’t deserve their friendship or their loyalty. She wouldn’t let them down again. Never again.

“That doesn’t explain why the leeches are here now,” Paul was still talking. “If she’s Jacob’s mate then why the hell are they asking for her?”

“I don’t know,” Bella said. She raised her chin and held Sam’s steady glare. “The leeches are my problem and my pack will handle them.”

“Your pack?” This came from Billy. His lined face was stern and more serious than she’d ever seen it.

“Your pack my ass,” Jared grumbled. “Sam’s Alpha.”

“Until Jake get’s back.” Bella hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. 

“You’re not even a wolf,” Paul spat. “I don’t care if you do smell like one.”

“But she is a wolf’s mate,” Sue said firmly. “An Alpha’s mate.”

“Does she have proof of this?” Billy asked. His demeanor had changed completely. At this moment he was Billy Black, member of the Quileute Council. Bella’s blush deepened but she pulled her shirt collar to one side, exposing the bright pink bite mark Jake had left on her shoulder. Billy took a steady breath. “Why didn’t you tell the whole council?”

Sam folded his arms, “Jacob’s not full Alpha yet.”

Bella didn’t understand all the Quileute tribe dynamics at play, but she knew something had shifted. This was a challenge from Sam as Alpha, and Jacob wasn’t here to answer it, which left his pack mates without a clear leader.

Jake, where are you?

...Bells?

Bella’s eyes widened, the odd whisper of his voice like a memory trickling over her skin. She hugged her arms around her belly. Her muscles tightened, a dull ache building at the base of her spine. If Jacob were here—

“He’s not here,” Sam said, as if he could read her thoughts. “No Alpha, no pack. You're nothing without him.” The same odd compelling echo tinged Sam’s voice again as he stared at each member of his old pack. 

“He’ll come back,” Bella said suddenly. She didn’t know exactly what to do, but she knew she had to stand in Jacob’s place. “He’ll come for me.”

“Will he?” Paul challenged. “I wouldn’t.”

Bella blinked as her pack growled low in their throats. 

Jake, we need you.

She struggled to her feet and nodded to her pack. They followed her in silence.

“Where are you going?” Billy asked.

“The treaty line,” Bella said simply. “If I don’t talk to them, they’ll linger.” Her eyes shot to the two youngest members of Sam’s pack. Collin and Brady. So young, too young to be pulled into this fight. She wouldn't let it happen to any more Quileutes. “Ten wolves is too many already.”

Chapter Text

Jacob lay awake again, eyes tightly closed, trying to force himself to be still. His entire body was exhausted and taut, his wolf prowling under his skin. It hadn’t been this bad in months.

run. home.

"Not yet."

bella. bella. bella.

"Stop." The words were whispered through clenched teeth. "One year."

He'd told himself he'd wait a year and then go home. He would wait. His wolf growled a low tearing threat. run. The pull towards Bella was almost a physical pain. But he’d fought it before and he would fight it again. He’d been so stupid before, pushing at her, trying to make her make a choice. To make the obvious right choice. To choose him. It had all been wrong and stupid and he wouldn’t do that to her again. She’d made her decision and it was his job to live with it.

Jake, where are you?

His eyes flew open. "Bells?" He half sat up, his heart leaping.

mine! The wolf coiled and sprang, flinging Jacob off his bunk. He grunted in surprised as his head smacked into the wall. mine! His body was shaking so hard, he could feel his skin begin to thin, and split. mine! It felt like the first time he’d phased, his body betraying him, taking his normal life and tearing it to shreds as the wolf had broken free. run. run. run. The wolf, crouched, ready to pounce again. run! run! run!

The first time he’d phased, Jacob thought he would die. His whole body burned, melting from the inside out, the spirit wolf pushing out of it’s cage into his very bones. They shattered and shifted, every atom re-molded into the form of a giant russet colored wolf. Hair pushed through his skin, like a thousand needless all pushing into him—or out of him—at once. His teeth crunched, changed, sharpened. The pain was unbearable. He’d opened his mouth to scream, but all he heard was the piercing howl of the monster he’d become.

“You control the wolf,” Sam told him later. “Never let it control you.”

Control took patience and a strength of will that had to be taught and earned. The spirit wolves were still animals, and they wouldn’t submit without a fight. Jacob had beat his wolf into submission the quickest of the entire pack, but it had taken nearly two weeks.

“Your spirit wolf is strong,” Billy had told him, the first week he returned. Their kitchen was still in shreds from his phasing. “Stronger than the rest.”

“Why?”

“You’re the grandson of Ephraim Black,” Billy’s eyes shone with a rare sort of pride. “You were born to be the Alpha.”

“Sam’s Alpha.” The reply was sharp, automatic. “He phased first.”

Billy had grunted. He might as well have shouted.

“I don’t want that on my shoulders, Dad.” Jacob had growled.

But his wolf had wanted it. The wolf knew its place, knew what was his, and wanted it. Jacob had grit his teeth with the effort of keeping his wolf quiet in those first few months of running under Sam. It raged within him, itching to be let out, to take control, to hunt. The smell of leeches was everywhere; all over the woods of La Push; all over Forks; all over Bella. But Jacob had won control in the end. At least, he thought he'd won. Jacob sucked in a painful breath. The burning now was worse than his first shift. 

Jake, we need you.

His wolf sprang again, sinking it’s teeth into him, mine! run! protect! Jacob didn’t hear his own yell of pain as his wolf finally ripped free of his body. Lungs heaved, drawing in great gulps of air, the wolf scrambling to its feet, ignoring the terrified shouts of the other loggers. It shook itself and sprang out the too small door of the shabby cabin, wrenching it off its hinges. Its mournful howl broke over the night.

protect. home. la push. bella. mine. protect. run. bella. mine. home. la push. run. run. run!

Chapter Text

“Bella,” Seth burst out as soon as they stepped out of the house. “This is not a good idea.”

“Why?" She shook her head as he gestured at her stomach. "I’m pregnant, Seth, not dying.”

“I don’t like it,” he grumbled. Bella bit back a laugh. When she’d left, almost a year ago, Seth Clearwater had been an awkward gangly teenager; sweet but uncertain of how he fit in his own skin. That awkwardness was all but gone now. His face darkened and he folded his arms, "Jacob wouldn't like it either."

Embry, Quil, and Leah all exchanged a quick look. “You don’t have to like it,” Leah said tightly. “You just have to do as your told.”

“Who died and left you beta?”

“Take the rear, Seth," she snapped. He scowled at his sister, but he slunk back, keeping an eye on them from behind while Leah took the lead. The air was thick with the promise of rain. “Hurry up, before we all get soaked,” she called, glaring at Quil and Embry.

“There's no official beta,” Embry explained. He and Quil stayed close, flanking her. “Although Leah likes to make tough and boss us all around.”

“We let her think she's in charge.” Quil winked. “It’s just easier not to get in her way, you know?”

Bella opened her mouth to reply, but a sharp pain in her stomach made her suck in a breath. Embry and Quil stiffened, their worried expressions almost comical. “Just a cramp.” She rolled her eyes, and rubbed at her aching side. “I’m fine.”

They exchanged another nervous look, before Embry cleared his throat. “You could just ride on one of us," he offered. Quil snorted, trying to hide it as a cough, but Embry elbowed him sharply. “It would be faster.”

“I’d rather walk.”

"Rejected, bro."

Embry shoved Quil again, shooting Bella a bright smile. “Try not to trip, Swan.”

Bella rolled her eyes and pressed ahead, ignoring the growing twinges of discomfort in her back. Her mind wandered, anxiety building in her stomach. She didn’t know if she was ready to see them again, to see him again, but there was no other way out of this hell. She'd wanted to blame the Cullens for everything before. For a while, she had. Sue had patiently listened to her yell and rage and scream, tears choking her words.

“No one chooses your life’s path for you, unless you let them,” Sue had said. Her words had almost knocked the breath out of Bella.

“So this is all my fault?” Bella had nearly screamed. “He left me, Sue, after everything. He left me again. I made one stupid mistake, and then he’s gone, like I'm nothing. I was going to die for him. I gave him everything! I could have given it all to Jacob. God, I should’ve given it to Jake. He wanted it. He wanted me, just as I am. He saw me and loved me and I broke him. Now I have nothing.”

“All choices have consequences.” Sue had said. She'd been like a rock, standing firm against the storm of Bella’s regret and anger. “The only choices you control are your own.”

Edward had made his choice, and left again. It had taken time, and Bella understood now why he needed to go. She didn't blame him anymore. But why was he back? 

A low growl pulled Bella from her thoughts. They’d finally reached the clearing, where she could see two figures standing unnaturally still in the misty gloom at the treaty line. A wind blew across the field and Bella caught a hint of cloyingly sweet ammonia. She shuddered, almost gagging. Embry and Quil shifted in a crunch of bone and tearing of skin, their wolves growling, low and menacing. For once, Bella envied them, her heart racing in a new odd panic. She was safe, and yet she felt more exposed than ever. The statuesque figures turned. Edward and—

“Alice?”

Alice smiled brightly. She wrinkled her nose as Bella approached. “You smell worse.”

“So do you.” Bella said ignoring the echoes of grief, denial, and anger. Alice had been her friend. But she'd left too. “Why are you here?”

“Edward insisted.” Alice said cheerfully. “And I want to see your baby when its born, even if it is a little mutt.”

The wolves let out a chorus a threatening growls, teeth bared. Bella laid a hand on Embry’s side and glanced at Edward. “Edward?”

“I wished to speak with you,” he said, raising his eyes. He looked the same as she remembered. But different. “My leaving was,” he frowned, “wrong. You are still my heart and I cannot ignore it.”

Bella sucked in another sharp breath, and tangled her hand deeper into Embry’s fur. Why was he saying these things when he knew nothing was the same anymore?

"Isabella?"

Bella blinked. The two inhumanly perfect faces cut through to her heart. This was hard, harder than she expected. "Edward." She was different now; more herself than she’d ever been. So she smiled at him and meant it. “You have to leave.”

“Leave?” Alice looked mildly puzzled. "But the baby isn't here yet. We have to stay for that, at least."

“No." Bella shook her head. "I’m asking you both to go, and not to come back to La Push.”

“Isabella,”

“Edward,” she interrupted gently. “I hurt you, and I'm sorry.”

“Carlisle thinks you can still be turned.” He took a step closer, ignoring the guttural snarls of the wolves surrounding Bella. “Once the pup comes, it might be possible, without it inside you. We can still have forever. We can put all this behind us and be happy.”

“Put what behind us?”

“This.” He gestured to her belly, then the wolves. “Them.”

But they both knew he meant Jacob again. Bella closed her eyes. It always came back to this. She felt pulled into two parts of herself. There had been a part of her that loved Edward, that wanted him and everything he offered. Sometimes she was afraid there still was, but—

Jake.

His face, and his wolf, were easy to imagine. For nine months she’d tried to forget, or pretend to forget, how happy she’d always been with him, how stupidly easy it was to love him and be loved by him. He was her spring and her sun. Her best friend.

Jake.

“Consider it.” Alice’s voice was gentle. "We love you, Bella." Bella’s eyes fluttered open. “After the baby's born, you’ll have a choice again. All we’re doing is offering you that choice.” She reached out her hand, but pulled it back just as Leah leaped forward with a vicious snap. 

Bella could feel the tension roiling through the pack, like a buzzing pressure in her mind, coming in waves of snarls and growls that were almost like words.

<don't listen to him!>

<filthy bloodsuckers>

Bella shook her head, trying to clear it. She hadn’t expected Edward's offer, and she didn’t even know what to say. She could feel Embry’s muscles coil, as if he were about to spring, treaty or no treaty. To end this for her.

“No!”

The wolves froze. She took a sharp shallow breath, her stomach clenching hard. With that breath, everything seemed to break at once. More howls and growls erupted from the woods, thunder crashed overhead, followed by a torrent of rain as the skies finally opened. Bella was soaked to the skin within seconds. She almost didn’t feel the rush of warm water that spilled down her legs.

“Oh no,” Bella started shaking, and she clutched Embry’s fur tighter. He whined, nudging at her. He could smell it. “Embry, my water broke."

Then a strong hand covered hers, and she stared through the rain into Sam Uley’s face. His pack had followed them. Had he heard what the Cullens offered her? Had he seen her hesitate? Then Sue was on her other side, her face stern and determined.

“We need shelter, Sam.” Sue shouted over the thunder. “Now.”

“Sarah’s cabin,” he called back and pointed. “It’s closest.”

Jake.

And then Bella was being lifted onto Leah’s back. “Hold on tight, Bella,” Sam commanded. “Run, Lee Lee. Run hard.” There was no Alpha’s echo in his voice, but Leah obeyed. Rain tore into them as Leah raced through the woods towards Sarah Black’s abandoned cabin. Back to the beginning. Bella moaned into Leah’s fur as another, sharper wave of pressure and pain rushed over her. Leah burst through the underbrush, easing down onto her belly. Bella fell onto the ground. 

“Breathe, little mother.” Sue Clearwater jumped from Seth's back, crouched, and laid a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Can you stand?”

"Yes." She trembled all over. She needed dark, and quiet, and safety. And Jacob. 

Jake!

...Bells!

Sue slipped her strong arm around her, and helped her stand. They shuffled across the slippery clearing and up the three stairs. Leah had already forced the cabin door open, and was busy making a fire.

“Sam will bring Emily to help,” Sue murmured. She guided Bella to the bed, speaking firm and low, “Don’t be afraid.” She knelt and slipped off Bella's shoes. Then she began to braid Bella's hair, her hands firm and gentle. “You’ve come home for this.”

Chapter Text

His wolf ripped through the woods all around the logging camp, tearing through the underbrush. It yelped in pain when Jacob wrestled it to the ground, fighting for control.

<let. go.>

The wolf sprang up again. mine. mine. mine. 

<let go, you furry bastard.>

His wolf fought harder, a gut wrenching howl spilling into the night quiet. Sam had tried the same thing almost a year ago, after Jacob had made Bella his mate.  

<jacob, let go!>

It was the last Alpha command Sam had ever given him. 

<no!> Jacob’s wolf had snarled at his Alpha, ears flat. mine. mine. mine. He’d given everything to keep her alive, but he couldn't be forced to give her up.

Sam’s wolf had lunged at him. <you will, jacob.> 

<she's mine.> His wolf would not give her up. mine. mine. mine!

<stop.> They wrestled on the forest floor, Sam's teeth sinking into his shoulder. <forget her.> 

<she's mine, sam.> He was almost sobbing. He could feel the other members of the pack in the back of his mind, watching, silent. <and i'm hers. i can't let her do this. i can't let her die like this!>

<she made her choice. let go.>

<i can't. god, i can't.> He leapt at Sam again, growling. His wolf fought with a new ferocity that scared him. mine. mine. mine! 

<she chose the leech.>

<she chose me. you saw it. you all saw it.> 

<you will stay.>

Jacob had felt Sam's command in his bones. He felt the pain as his wolf fought against it. He could do almost anything for Bella Swan. He could love her even as she choose someone else. He could make love to her knowing she would never be his again. He could mate her and let her marry a monster.

<you will break your bond. you will let her go.>

<no!> He'd felt something inside him break, the pain fading, and a rush of red and anger and defiance. No one could force him to stop loving her. Not Bella, not Sam, not the spirits, no one. He was Jake and she was Bells. She was his and he was hers. His love for her was all he had left. <i. will. not!>

His wolf sprang at Sam again, tearing at his neck, tasting fur and sweat and blood. And then he'd ran.

Now Jacob's wolf fought against him with a new force, like the Alpha he'd become when he'd defied Sam all those months ago. But Jacob was losing. bella. mine. run. He threw his wolf against a tree, and they both yelled at the pain of cracked ribs. The wolf jumped up, growling. mine. run. la push. home. The wolf tried to run, but Jacob pulled it to the ground, where the beast rolled and scrambled and scratched, trying to break free.

<i said no!>

The wolf howled it's defiance, and Jacob tightened his grip. Sam couldn't control him, no one could; but Jacob would not lose himself. Not again. Not even for her. Sam had been right. She made her choice, and it wasn't him and— 

Jake!

<bells?> His control slipped for a fraction of a second as her frantic voice slipped into his mind. mine!  His wolf found her across their bond, like a compass needle finds north. And then he ran, nose to the ground, feet tearing through the forest, eating at the miles that separated them. la push. home. bella. mine. protect. run. faster.

Jake! 

<bells!>

He couldn't have stopped now, even if he'd had perfect control over his wolf. Her voice was echoing in his head again and again. Oh God. pain. afraid. run. faster. He couldn't think, couldn't stop, and he stopped fighting as his wolf took complete control. run! run! run! Trees passed in a blur, but he barely saw them. 

I can't do this. I just can't. No, I can't. Not without Jake. I need him. 

bella. afraid. Why had he left her? run. faster. 

Sue, I can't. I can't do this! I can't, I can't.

pain. Why had he stayed away? run. home. faster. faster!  

I CAN'T! JACOB!

<BELLA!>

Chapter Text

The forest surrounding La Push would always remind Bella of the gloomy day in May when her son was born. The leaves dropped rain in pattering splashes, the night world alive and waiting. Her pack had waited with the forest, pacing around the cabin in nervous rounds, most in wolf form. Their howls kept her company. She’d labored most of the night, with Emily and Sue laboring tirelessly with her, until the breaking dawn, bringing with it a new life. Bella turned her head and breathed in deeply through her nose. Leah was close by. And Sam. And—

“Dad?” Her voice was hoarse from yelling. She’d yelled more in the last twelve hours than in her whole life. "Are you there?"

The small wooden door creaked open, and Charlie Swan stuck his head into the bedroom. “Hey, kiddo.” He stepped inside, looking nervous. “How are you?”

“Tired.” She smiled a little. “Thirsty.”

He nodded wordlessly, and picked up a pitcher full of water Sue had left on the dresser. He poured her a glass and held it to her lips, watching intensely as she sipped. “Better?”

She nodded. “Thanks.” She blinked, and glanced around. “It’s so quiet.”

“It is.” He pulled up a chair and sat, folding his arms. “Now, anyways. You sure you're alright?”

“I'm fine. Quit fussing, Charlie,” Bella chuckled and shifted the small warm bundle around on her chest, so the tiny baby face was visible. "Say hello."

Charlie shifted closer and smiled at the red-tan skin, the shock of thick black hair, and the almost black-brown eyes. “Wow,” he whispered. “He’s beautiful, Bell-Bell.”

She glanced up. He hadn’t called her Bell-Bell since she was three or four years old. “Dad.”

Charlie grunted and reached out to brush the tiny hand with the tips of his fingers. “I’m too young to be a grandpa.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t look at him. “Sorry about that.”

“I called your mother.”

Bella smiled. “Good.”

“She wants to come visit.”

“Sure, sure." She nodded, holding her baby a little tighter. “Just, not yet, Dad. Could you tell her to wait a bit?”

Charlie raised his eyebrows but he shrugged. They sat for a moment, then Sue appeared. Her father cleared his throat. “Billy’s here too.”

“Oh.” It was a breathy exhale. Of course Billy would come. “Is Jake—?”

Her father’s face hardened a little and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bella.”

“Dad.” She looked at him through her tears. She couldn’t seem to stop them anymore. “It’s fine.”

“I’m still going to kick his ass for this,” he grumbled. "He should be here for you."

“Help me up.” She ignored his comments and scooted towards the edge of the bed. "Let's go see Billy."

"Hang tight, kiddo." Charlie jumped forward, suddenly awkward, as if her didn’t know quite what to do. Bella smiled, and took his arm, hauling herself to a standing position. All her muscles felt stretched and loose, especially her stomach and back. Every moment was slow, deliberate. Sue gathered up the bundle of baby and blankets, following them. Outside the bedroom, Billy, Sam, Old Quil, and Leah all sat around a small cheerful fire. The sounds coming from the kitchen must be Emily. All eyes turned towards Bella as she slowly shuffled into the room. Charlie maneuvered her towards an arm chair, helping her to get comfortable.

“Get her something to drink,” Sue said and Charlie ducked into the kitchen.

Bella tried not to fidget, but her eyes jumped around the room. The members of the Quileute council were all here, and they were all watching her with silent focus.

“It’s a boy,” she said, more to break the uneasy silence. She smiled at Billy. “Do you want to hold him?”

“I do,” Billy said, then hesitated. “But,”

“What?” Bella leaned forward, still hopeful. “Is it Jake? Is he coming?”

Billy hesitated, exchanging a look with Old Quil.

“Embry, Quil, and Seth are still looking.” This came from Sam. “We haven’t heard anything since they left.”

“They left?" Bella frowned. "When?"

“You sent them,” Leah said. Her eyes were bright and triumphant.

"I did?" She didn't remember that. But the last twelve hours were a blur of sweat and pain. 

“Bella.” Billy leaned forward in his wheelchair. “Sam says you gave them an Alpha command.”

"No, I—" Bella flinched back, frowning, shaking her head. “How could I?”

“You’re Alpha.” Leah rolled her eyes, impatient. “God, how many times do I have to explain this before anyone will believe me?”

“She’s not Quileute,” Old Quil stated. “And she’s female.”

“And only men phase,” Leah snorted. “Blah blah blah.”

“What’s the point of all this?” Charlie had reappeared and Bella almost bit her tongue. Charlie. Of course, he must know now. Oh God, he must know everything. She wanted to slide down into the chair and hide.

“The point is how did she do it,” Billy explained. “Old Quil is right. She’s not a wolf.”

“The 'how' part is easy,” Leah said, leaping to her feet and beginning to pace. “Jacob overthrew Sam. Now he’s Alpha and Bella’s his mate. Pretty sure that makes her Alpha too.”

“Mate?” Charlie looked distinctly uncomfortable, first turning red then white. "Because they...you know—"

“It’s a wolf thing,” Bella said cutting Charlie off, her face hot with embarrassment. He shot her an incredulous look that said ‘How long have you known about all this?’ He was going to blow a gasket if he ever learned the whole truth about the Cullens and what she’d almost become. If he didn't already know. Bella shook the thought away.

“Doesn’t anyone know basic wolf biology?” Leah demanded. She was met with silence and she rolled her eyes again, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Alpha females rule the pack when they have pups. I looked it up.”

“Bella’s not an animal,” Charlie grumbled.

“But she’s Jacob’s—”

“If you say ‘mate’ one more time, I will shoot something,” Charlie snapped. “Besides, why do we care if my daughter is ordering your pack around or not?”

“Sam.” Billy turned to the younger man, waiting.

Sam Uley looked at if he’d aged twenty more years, almost overnight. He sighed, “The pack is a mess and my wolf isn’t happy,” he said. He sounded so tired and worn thin. Bella had the sudden urge to give him a hug. “My wolf,” Sam stopped. “Jacob isn’t here, so," he glanced at Bella, "my wolf wants Bella.”

“Over my dead body,” Leah snarled. “You’ve already got a mate.”

“I had a mate,” Sam looked down, ashamed. “The bond changed when Jacob left. Em and I both felt it.”

“You never mentioned this,” Sue’s spoke into the growing silence. "Are you sure?"

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam finally said. “None of it matters unless Jacob comes home. My wolf won’t settle until that happens.” He looked at Bella, “I don’t want to be Alpha. I never did. It was always supposed to be Jacob.” There was an odd catch in his voice. Something like hope. Hope that maybe his life could be different, simpler. "

“There can only be one Alpha,” Old Quil said gravely. “One mated pair.”

"But what about Jared and Kim? They've—bonded, right?" Bella said suddenly. 

"They have." Sam looked tired. "But it's not the same. Alphas have to have a stronger bond to ensure the pack continues."

"It's believed the first pup is what makes the Alpha bond permanent," Old Quil said. "Alphas mate for life."

Bella frowned, and then she understood, a piece of this jumbled puzzle finally clicking into place. “The council expected Sam and Emily to have a baby first.” Bella muttered, “As the original Alpha pair.”

Sam nodded. “We all expected it.”

“But then Jake and I—”

“Got there first,” Leah sounded triumphant.

Charlie cleared his throat, his face turning red, “Can we stop with all the wolf-talk and mate-talk for one damn minute? I plan to enjoy my new grandson.” He pulled a fist full of individually wrapped cigars from his front shirt pocket. “Who wants one?”

Billy was the first to laugh, and held out his hand for a cigar. With that, the tension melted away, and the heavy feeling in the room faded. "Open some beers, Emily," Billy called. "And we'll toast my—"

"Our—"

"—new grandbaby."

Bella could’ve kissed both Billy and Charlie.

“Give me my grandson,” Billy demanded, slipping his cigar into his own shirt pocket before holding out his hands towards Sue. 

Sue glanced at Bella, who nodded. She watched with fresh tears as Billy Black cradled the small bundle, his happiness and pride making his face shine. He let out a happy grunt and kissed the baby's soft red face. Where she’d once found the supernatural exciting and compelling, now she felt exhausted by it all. Straddling the human and monster worlds was too much. This was the world she wanted; laughter, and mess, and love, and humanity.

“So, does the kid have a name yet?” Charlie asked, glancing at Bella.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Billy argued. “She can’t name him without his father.”

“Well, his dear old dad is nowhere to be seen.”

“He’ll turn up.”

“When? Next year?”

Bella cleared her throat and the two men stopped arguing. “His name is Jacob.”

“How original.” Leah made a gagging sound. 

“Jacob Charles William Black,” Bella said firmly. 

“How come Charlie’s name comes first?” Billy demanded, shoving a beaming Charlie aside. “You owe me, Bella.”

“Because I’m her favorite.”

“My son saved her life.”

"He knocked her up—"

"Which saved her life."

“—and then disappeared.”

“She broke his heart.”

“He didn’t have to run off without a word of warning, Billy.”

“What was he supposed, to do? Hang around and watch her marry that Cullen bastard?”

“Speaking of, I owe that boy an ass kicking too,”

“You were always Team Jacob, Chief,” Billy elbowed him. “Admit it.”

The baby began to fuss, while his grandfathers continued bickering. Bella tensed as Sam picked up her son and walked over to where she sat. The burden he’d carried since he first phased seemed to lift off of him for a moment as he stared at the tiny baby. 

“What happens now?” she asked softly.

“We wait.” Sam carefully laid the baby in her arms. “They’ll find Jacob. Eventually.”

“Sam,” she reached out and took his hand. His dark eyes met hers. “What will you do now? About Emily and Leah?”

“Nothing yet.” He sighed, and the burden settled back in its place. His bond to Emily might have changed, but it didn't change what he'd done to Leah. “Once Jacob whips my ass,” he shrugged. “We’ll see.”

"You'll give him a run for his money."

He chuckled a little. "Wouldn't be a fair fight if I didn't." Sam brushed a fingertip over the baby’s cheek. “If they can’t find him, Bella, I’ll bring him home myself. I promise.”

“Sam,”

“It’s the right thing,” He straightened and gave her a grim smile. “For everyone.”

Chapter Text

Once the wolf was in full control, it ran flat out for almost two days. Jacob couldn’t fight it, not when every cell in his body ached to know what had happened to Bella. But his wolf's single minded determination was going to kill them both, if they didn’t rest and eat. 

<hunt.> Jacob used the last of his strength to yank his wolf into a stumbling walk, but it still fought him. His wolf’s tongue lolled, almost dry, desperately thirsty. Hunger clawed at them both. His wolf growled, wrestling between its instinct to hunt and the pull of his mating bond. home. bella. la push.

<hunt.> Jacob pushed back. The wolf lifted its nose and sniffed. The scent of a moose decided for them both. Hunger took over, and the wolf crouched, belly almost brushing the ground, tracking the moose in near silence.  Even so, this hunt took time neither Jake nor the wolf wanted to spare. His wolf wove a tangled path through the woods, begrudgingly stalking the moose north, always north, sometimes east. Jacob tried to keep his bearings as they moved further north. His wolf was anxious and jumpy, always turning back towards the west. la push. home. run. 

<bella?>

Her voice had faded, but the pull was stronger than ever. After almost day and a half of tracking, the wolf took its chance. The moose fought like a bitch, red-eyed and tough, hooves cutting several deep gashes before the wolf got a kill hold. Jacob tried not to watch as his wolf tore into the dead animal. He hated hunting for food in wolf form. He tried to wrestle back some control but his wolf rebuffed him. He could only wait. An hour later, the carcass lay half stripped. If wolves could sigh, his would’ve. bella. mine. pain. afraid. home. run. The wolf whined even as it collapsed onto the forest floor, panting. bella. mine. run.

<furry idiot.> Jacob closed his eyes. The wolf shivered as sleep crashed over them in an undeniable wave. Jacob didn’t know how much time passed when his wolf finally woke and stumbled to its feet. He shook himself and blinked in the fading twilight, sniffing, listening. The wind shifted. A branch snapped. His ears flattened as he slunk into the underbrush, tense and ready. 

“We’re lost.” A voice grumbled. “Again.”

“We’re not lost. We’re wolves.”

“Well, my wolf says we’re lost, asshat.”

“Your wolf is stupid.”

Jacob slipped to the left, circling closer to the group of three boys clambering loudly through the forest, keeping himself downwind. The sun was sinking fast behind them, making it difficult to see their faces. But their scent hit him like a sledgehammer: Quil, Embry, and Seth. His pack.

“How long do you think we have to keep looking before we can quit?”

“What part of an Alpha command doesn’t make sense to you?” Embry jumped down from a fallen tree. He was filthy. And buck naked. “We keep looking until we find him.”

“How do think she did that?”

“Shut up Seth,” Quil and Embry both grabbed handfuls of dirt and threw them at Seth. "Not this again."

“Who cares how Bella did it,” Embry growled, his skin steaming in the cool evening. “She did. Every time we try to go home, we can’t. It fucking sucks.”

Seth nodded, looking tired and resigned.

“Too bad she didn’t tack on a caveat, you know?" Quil punched his arm. "Like ‘Find Jacob, except if it’s been four days’—”

“Or if you get too tired.”

"Or hungry."

“Or if Embry loses his shorts phasing in his sleep.”

“Or if Seth needs a shower.”

“Or if Quil gets us lost.”

“We’re working a grid,” Quil argued, jumping on Seth, wrestling him to the ground. “It takes time.”

“Except your dumbass smelled a fresh kill and abandoned the grid thirteen miles back.” Embry cuffed Quil and tugged him off of Seth. “So let’s find it, eat, and move on.”

Jacob growled low in his throat, and all three boys turned, Embry and Quil exploding into wolf form while Seth took the half second to strip out of his shorts. Quil forgot, his own pants shredding into a dirty sort of confetti.

<shit,> Quil growled. <mom's going to kill me.>

Embry and Seth snickered, their laughter cut off when Jacob sprang from his cover, his chest rumbling, taking all three of them by surprise.

<jacob!> Seth’s wolf was wriggling like a puppy, his excitement barely containable. <you're alive!>

<of course he's alive, idiot.> Embry’s tongue lolled out and he rolled over exposing his belly, before climbing to his feet. <where the hell have you been, man?>

<what are you doing here?> Jacob growled. <i told you not to come after me.>  

<bella sent us.> Quil snapped at Jacob, and he bared his teeth. <we kind of didn’t have a choice, you know?>

<bella sent you?> Jacob's ears flattened against his head. bella. mine. protect. <how?>

<alpha command,> Seth whined.

Quil tossed his head. <it was weird, dude.>

Jacob's growl deepened, and he snapped at Embry, <show me.> Embry hesitated, exchanging a quick look with Quil. <show me, embry. now.>

<buckle up, buttercup,> Embry grumbled, crouching, baring his neck. <this is a doozy.>

Then Embry’s thoughts and memories were pouring into Jacob’s head in snippets and flickering flashes.

Bella in La Push. Tired. Alive. Smelling like Jacob. <protect.> Billy's house. Billy, Sam, Sue, the pack. Two packs. Bella smells like wolf. Weird. <protect.> Fuck you Lahote. One Alpha, one Alpha female. No Alpha, no pack. You're nothing without him. Damn bloodsuckers back in Forks. Have to do something. Bella in the woods. Pain. <protect.> Is she hurt? Quil, is she hurt? What if she has the baby RIGHT NOW? Shit shit shit. Just a cramp. I’m fine. Fuck me. Girls. Bella’s huge. Curvy. It's kinda sexy. You could ride on one of us. Quil snorts. Asshole. I’ll walk, thanks. Treaty line. Leeches. Shift. Trying to schmooze Bella. Fuckers. Dickward-Stoned-Face-Cullen, king of the schmooze. We’re offering you a choice. Leah. Angry. Snaps. Take that, bloodsucker bitch. Thunder. Oh shit. Bella. Pain. A sweet smell. My water broke, Embry. Water? Baby water? Fuck fuck fuck. Do something. Scared. Sam. Sue. Leah. Running. Run, Forrest, run. Sarah’s cabin. Shouts. Pacing. Stay the hell out of here. Bella. More pain. <protect!> Afraid. Shouting. Pain. Oh God. Jake! I can’t do this, I need Jake! JAKE! Do something, do something, do something. HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Shift. Into the cabin. Emily. Sue. Angry. Is she dying? Seth, you idiot! Bella yelling, sweating, pain. She’s having a baby, not baking a cake. Oh God, what if she dies? fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Gotta do something. We have to do something, Leah.  Yelling. Pain. Bella. Find Jacob! Now. The hell? <obey.> Shift. what the hell was that? Seth, Quil, running, running, running. Find Jacob. Find Jacob. Find Jacob. Now. Now. Now.

Jacob stumbled backwards as if he'd been hit, whining, trembling, shaking, and then he half sat, half fell, on a downed tree trunk. For a moment he couldn't make himself think, or move, or speak. 

<i think you broke him, embry.> 

<is he breathing?> 

<would you be?>

<probably not,> Quil shook himself. <so can we eat while his software updates?>

<jacob?> Seth whined and nudged him. 

bella! Jacob shook himself. bella. protect. mine. run. la push. home. He jumped to his feet, snarling. run. run. run!

<shit.> Embry sighed and ripped a huge chunk from the moose carcass. <grab and go, boys.>

Jacob's wolf lifted its head and howled before it sprang through the woods, his pack following close behind.

Chapter Text

Bella and her baby spent three days at Sarah Black’s cabin before moving in with Billy. Sue and Emily kept a close eye on her to make certain she was eating, and sleeping, and healing, while the pack kept watch in the woods. She was grateful for the quiet and solitude. Baby Jake was a fussy one, eating every two hours, sometimes every half hour.

“So hungry,” Bella crooned at him. “Aren’t you, little guy?”

“Like his dad.”

Billy’s comments stung. She knew he meant them without malice. He simply refused to pretend. She hadn’t been surprised the day Billy Black and Sue turned up at the cabin and told her it was time to go. She was surprised when Sue had driven them to Billy’s house.

"Welcome home," Billy had grunted.

Bella said nothing, grateful for his peace offering. Jacob had been gone almost a year and she owed Billy this at the very least. So she stayed. Charlie grumbled about it, but he seemed to understand Forks wasn’t her home anymore. Billy and Bella never spoke more than they had to, but living with him was easy. He was more than content to hold his grandson, telling him stories or singing in Quileute or watching football with Jake in his lap, while she went for a walk or stole a few precious minutes to sleep and shower.

“You’re good with him."

Billy grunted, which was his usual way of saying ‘I know’.

The hardest thing about living at the Black's wasn’t Billy or her fussy baby. It was Jacob. The house was filled with him; pictures in beat up frames on the walls, piles of his tools or carving knives scattered everywhere, his soap and deodorant still in the bathroom, rumpled clothes in odd places, his movie collection spilling off the worn fiberboard shelf in his closet. Billy kept everything the same, as if he expected his son to turn up any minute, and settle back into the vacant hole he’d left behind. It was hard not to hold on to hope.

“I wish I could take it all back,” Bella said one night. Baby Jake was almost a week old, tucked in a contented ball in Billy's arms. She was certain her son hadn't been put down for more than ten minutes his entire life. If she or Billy or her father weren’t holding him, one of the pack would ‘drop in’ and spend an hour or two walking the yard with the fussy baby. In a way, Jacob’s son belonged to all of them. Bella was grateful, even if it made the Jacob-shaped-hole in their life better and worse at the same time. “I wish I could erase it all." She paused, staring into the darkening gloom. Summer was passing so quickly, like sand in an hourglass. “Every stupid lie I told him.”

Billy said nothing. He was like Sue in that way. His words were always measured, and never carelessly tossed out. “Do you really think he believed you?” he finally said.

“Sometimes.” Bella shivered, and brushed at her eyes. "I think he did."

The warmth from her pregnancy was already fading, the burning heat ebbing a little more each day. A shadow moved in the trees. Bella squinted through her tears. Sam in wolf form. There was always at least one or two wolves nearby, but if Sam were here—

Headlights cut through the growing dark, and she smiled at Charlie as he stepped out of police cruiser. He waved, "Hey, kiddo." He joined them on the porch and reached for baby Jake, glancing at her. "Sam called.”

“The Cullens want to see you.” Billy said, his eyes fixed on the dark forms shifting through the trees.

Bella nodded. The Cullens had lingered, waiting, for her answer to their proposal. The wolf patrols had increased again, like they had before the newborn battle. With each day the vampires lingered, the pack grew more restless—worried, waiting. Always waiting.

“Bella?”

“I have to talk to him,” she said. She hated the way it sounded; weak, frightened, desperate. It didn’t change anything. She had to talk to Edward one last time. 

“He's come for you.” Billy sighed. She shrugged, knowing it was true. “Filthy leech.”

“It’s how he is,” she said softly. “They can’t really let go.”

“You don’t have to talk to him,” Charlie began. 

“I do.” It was firm and determined. Time meant nothing to Edward. He would always be waiting, so long as there might be a chance. "I owe him this." Bella looked back towards the woods. Sam was almost invisible underneath the shadow of the trees. Waiting for her. He, at least, seemed to understand. Charlie grunted and she stood, brushing her shaking hands down her ill-fitting jeans. “Keep little Jake for me?” Charlie nodded. Bella glanced at Billy, and thought she could almost see a hint of fear in his black-brown eyes. She picked up her son and kissed him, memorizing his scent, his warmth, his own Jake-ness. “You be good, little guy.” Then she stepped into the growing night. 

"I’m glad he's not here,” Billy called after her sharply. “To watch you walk away again.”

Bella jerked to a stop, and looked back, her vision swimming with tears. Charlie said nothing. Billy still didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t blame him. The entire pack was trying, but they still tiptoed around her, like they were waiting for her to leave again, to break them again. Everyone except Sam and Leah. She turned back towards the trees and forced herself to keep walking. 

“Hey Sam,” Bella said once she reached him. His warmth radiated out over her, and she slipped her chilled hands into his fur. It wasn’t as soft as Jacob’s wolf, more wiry and matted. A flash of silver. “Hey, Lee,” she whispered, knowing the she-wolf would hear her. They reached the edge of the woods and the clearing near the treaty line before Bella was ready. She shook her head, gripping Sam’s fur hard enough that he turned and nudged her with his muzzle. “Sam. Am I crazy?”

Sam’s wolf snuffled and tilted it’s head to one side. She could almost hear his half-sarcastic remark. <you tell me, bella.>

She chuckled and ruffled his fur, “I deserve that.” He blew out a sharp heated breath. “Stay close.”

A low grumble sounded in his throat and then he slipped into the deepening shadows. He wasn't going anywhere. 

Edward stood alone in the middle of the clearing by the treaty line. Bella used to wonder how all the wolves and the Cullens seemed to know exactly where the line drawn between them lay, as if it were painted in bright red on the ground. Now, she thought she understood. La Push was her home, and as soon as she stepped off the rez, to visit Charlie or run errands, she’d felt different. She wondered if she would feel the same if she stepped over the invisible line between Jacob’s world and Edward’s.

“Isabella.” Edward inclined his head in an odd old-fashioned greeting. A small shiver passed over him as he stared at her. He looked uncomfortable, as if he smelled blood.

"Oh," Bella stiffened. She was still bleeding from Baby Jake's birth and would for another few weeks. “It bothers you.”

Edward shrugged. It was the one casual habit he’d adopted during his time in Forks. “Birthing blood isn’t exactly appetizing,” he said. “It’s,” he paused, “tolerable." They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Bella shifted on her feet. All her silences with Edward were uncomfortable after they'd returned from Italy. If only she'd noticed the distance growing between them sooner. Edward took a dramatic unnecessary breath before speaking again. “I've missed you, love.”

"I know," she frowned, feeling off balance by the emotion in his voice. "You left."

"I was," he paused again. "Angry."

"I noticed." She stepped closer to the treaty line. “I missed you too.” She didn't why she was telling him this. Maybe it was something she needed to tell herself, out loud. His smile broke free, alluring, dazzling, breathtaking in it’s inhuman perfection. Bella held up hand as he started to step closer. “I'm sorry, Edward, but—"

"But?"

"I miss Jake more.”

He blinked hard, his jaw tightening. “Alice said the baby would bind you to him.” 

"He's my son." Bella wrapped her arms around herself, burying her fingers in the soft cotton of Jacob's old track hoodie. "Jake's his father and I—"

"I understand," Edward nodded. "It's not ideal, but I do understand." He smiled patiently when she frowned. "When the pup is old enough to be without you," he let the unfinished sentence hang between them. "I'll wait for you, Isabella. It won't be long."

"Wait for me...to  do what?" She frowned. "To leave my baby? For you?"

"To move on."

"Move on?" She stared at him, a strange horror churning in her stomach. Edward didn’t really care about her son at all. Why would he? Baby Jake was just another human life, a flame that had burst into the world, to burn for a mere seventy to eighty years, and then go out again with only a puff of smoky memory left behind. And then that would fade too. Bella pressed her eyes closed, shaking her head against the terrible finality of it all. However frail, little Jake was hers; hers and Jacob's. Their tiny little miracle. “Edward, I can't move on from my baby. I can't leave him."

"Time weakens all bonds eventually. You'll understand that soon enough," he smiled. It was a sad look, and it tugged at her still. "You forget things after your first one hundred years."

"I can't forget Jake," Bella said firmly. Edward frowned, as if he was trying to decide if she meant her son or his father. He so looked uncomfortable, and she almost felt sorry for him. No matter how they tried, the Cullens would never quite fit the human world. Maybe she’d always known that. Maybe that was why she’d tried so hard to reshape herself into their mold. "You told me before that you wanted me to live,” she said after their silence stretched too long. Again. “This is me living.”

“I meant with me.”

“I know,” Bella sighed. “I'm sorry for what I did to you. You didn't deserve that."

"And I forgive you."

"Edward, we can't go back. I have a son.”

"Isabella." He smiled again, that flat, patient smile she hated. "In eighteen years, he won't be a baby. He won't need you, but I will always need you. You’re my singer." A vampire thing; his singer, his soulmate. “You don’t understand what it’s like for me.” He stepped closer, the tips of his shoes brushing along the treaty line. “You’re my everything, my torture, my savior, my drug, my reason for existence—”

“Do I smell the same?”

His eyes flashed, “Isabella—”

“Don’t call me that,” she said before he could finish. "I don't like it. You know I don't."

“Very well.” His voice was soft with deliberate patience. Too soft, like she would break at the slightest touch. It was also warm in a strange way that made her shiver. “Bella, please look at me.”

<don't, bells! run! run!>

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Jake?" Only her lips moved. Her eyes cast over the dark forest, searching. Had she really heard him or— 

“He's not here, Bella. I am. I cannot be without you. I tried.” Edward shrugged again, his voice almost a purr. It reminded her of how he’d charmed the school nurse their junior year into letting him take Bella home. "I love you still, even now."

“I know." Her tongue felt thick. She shook herself. "Jake loves me more.”

“Never.” Edward’s voice was almost a hiss. “That is not the same.”

Bella blinked at him, and then she laughed softly, surprising herself and Edward. Jake had said the same thing, and it had taken her almost a year to finally understand. “Of course it's not the same. We’re saying the same words, Edward, but we mean very different things. You might have been my first love,” Bella said, reaching out over the line. His cold, hard grasp met her small warm one. She flinched. Maybe monsters had soulmates, but she didn't really believe in those things anymore. She did believe in choices, and she'd made hers. “But you're not my heart.”

"You don't mean that," his voice purred again, soft, silky, and warm. "Don't say such things, love."

<no! run, bells, please!>

Birds sprang from the tree line behind Edward.

"I did love you, once. But I've always loved Jake, even before I met you. It's not the same, and I'm sorry it took me so long to understand." She couldn’t love Edward like he wanted, unless she cut Jake out of her heart. And she couldn't. She wouldn't. She tried to pull her hand free, but Edward's grip tightened. "Edward, don't." 

"Come with me, Bella." His voice was too soft, slipping into the cracks of her mind, making her thoughts hazy. He tugged again. "Please. Come away from here, and we can talk."

He pulled, forcing her to take a small step over the treaty line. "Stop! Edward, please." She realized too late what he was doing. The forest behind her exploded with howls and flashes of fur, blurs of color speeding towards her. "Jake! No, stop!" She braced her feet and tried to yank herself free. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If she crossed over the treaty line, Sam's pack couldn't help her or protect her. "Jake! Jake!"

<bells!>

More howls echoed from an outcropping of trees behind Edward. Then a flash of dark fur streaked across the clearing on his left on the wrong side of the treaty line. Edward's eyes widened. He moved so fast and gracefully, Bella didn't have time to react. He dodged the charging wolf, pulling Bella with him. He gently spun her around until her back was pressed against his chest, one arm banded around her middle in a vice-like grasp, his other arm outstretched for balance.

Sam, Paul, and Jared's wolves had stopped at the treaty line, snarling and snapping, held back by the treaty and Sam's alpha command, but Leah leapt over it without hesitation, joining the large russet wolf now crouched menacingly in front Edward. 

Bella took a painful breath. "Jake."

Jacob Black had come home.

Chapter Text

From the first day he’d shifted, Jacob was determined to keep himself separate from his wolf. Maybe he hoped he could somehow hold back the inevitable, never giving himself fully over to the spirit animal inhabiting his body. He would not become a monster, he would not lose himself. For three years, the man had beat back the wolf and its animal instincts and urges at every turn. But today, the man no longer cared about being a monster and he let the wolf's instincts surge through him. tear. kill. burn. Every muscle and bone and nerve was focused on the bloodsucker threatening his mate. bella. mine. protect.

"Jake."

It was barely a whisper, but she might as well have shouted. bella. Jacob felt her voice wrap around him and sink into his bones. mine. He slunk forward, his teeth bared, a dark, hair-raising snarl breaking through the unnatural silence. tear. kill. burn. The leech’s black eyes widened and his grip tightened on Bella. He tried to take a step backwards, and Embry's teeth missed his ankle by a fraction of an inch.

<don’t move.> Jacob said, his voice echoing with the Alpha timbre. 

The rest of his pack had the leech surrounded. There was no way out. The leech glanced around the circle. A half beat passed. A whispered ‘forgive me, love.’ In a blurred flash, his hand shifted from Bella’s waist to her neck. 

<let her go,> Seth whined. <please, edward.>

The leech turned towards Sam, who still stood at the treaty line. “Call them off, Sam Uley.”

<never.> Jacob snarled, holding the empty, black stare. The leech needed to feed, and it had it's hands on Bella. tear. kill. burn. Jacob stepped forward again, his mind running through every possible scenario of separating her from the bloodsucking bastard. His pack tensed, moving in with him, tightening their circle. <you will yield, cold one.>

“You can't do this. The treaty—” 

“The treaty is the only thing keeping your ass in one piece,” a new voice broke in. Charlie Swan stomped through the group of wolves, his shot gun hanging loosely in his hands. “Hey there, Jake,” He gave Jacob a wide berth, before pausing next to Seth, and pumping the action on his shot gun. “Get your hands off my daughter, Cullen.”

“I assure you, I don’t want to hurt her,”

“Fantastic,” Charlie interrupted. “So the choke hold is what? A vampire version of undying affection?”

The leech’s expression tensed and he glanced pointedly at Jacob. “Surely you understand my current dilemma.”

“Should’ve thought of that before dragging my daughter over the treaty line against her will.” Charlie shrugged one shoulder. “You alright, Bell-Bell?”

She gave a small nod and the leech’s grip tightened a tiny fraction. Jacob’s growl sharpened and his pack tightened their circle again. bella. mine. protect.

“I am sorry, Charlie, but—”

“That’s Chief Swan to you, dickwad.”

Paul and Jared snorted, pawing the treaty line. <chief -1, bloodsucker - 0>

<quiet.> Sam snapped at them. 

The leech blinked unnecessarily, watching Jacob carefully. Bella shivered, tugging at the cold hand gripping her throat. A whining snarl erupted from Jacob. protect. mine. bella. He took another step closer, a tearing, rumbling growl building in his chest. <you will yield.> 

“Tell your wolves to return to their side of the treaty line,” the leech spoke to Sam again. “Once I feel Isabella is safe from your pack, I’ll return her to her father's home.”

<no.> The leech flinched as Jacob continued to inch forward, his booming voice a painful force. The pack followed his lead, shrinking the circle to an arm’s length, all five wolves snarling. <my pack, cold one.>

“You’re barking up the wrong tree there.” Charlie commented dryly. the leech’s black eyes widened, nostrils flaring. “This here’s Jacob’s pack now, and you’ve got his, uh...his mate.” 

"No." The bloodsucker shuddered, his grip faltering. “Isabella gave herself to me first.”

“Apparently not,” Charlie snorted. “Seeing how that baby back at the cabin looks just like Jacob."

"I hold her heart.

"Sure, sure." Charlie rolled his eyes. "You're a regular Romeo, ain'tcha? Personally I always thought Romeo was a bit of an asshole. Juliet could do so much better.”

The leech stared at him blankly. "Chief Swan—"

"Have you decided what you really want, kiddo?” Charlie interrupted again. The leech opened his mouth, as if to answer, but Charlie raised his shot gun in a fluid movement, his face suddenly hard and immovable, seamlessly shifting from father to chief of police. “I wasn’t talking you.” He stepped closer. “Bell-Bell?”

Bella swallowed, her eyes shifting from the wolves, to her father, then finally settling on Jacob again. bella. mine. protect. His whole body shook with the effort of waiting, his teeth bared and snarling. tear. kill. burn. She raised her hand, fingers brushing Jacob's muzzle. A ripple of warmth washed over him and he shuddered. “Jake."

The leech jerked her back, “Isabella, that thing is—” 

“Mine,” she said, straining to touch Jacob again, her fingertips barely brushing the short fur. “He’s mine.” She shifted, trying to look up at the bloodsucker. “And I’m his.”

"You were mine first." The leech shook his head. It was a small, cold denial. "You can be again. Mistakes can be forgiven."

"I told you part of me has always been his," Bella said, sharply, almost pleading. "Long before I met you, Edward."

"You've got your answer, Cullen," Charlie said. "Let her go."

Jacob heard a crunching wrench behind him as Sam shifted back into human form, then stepped deliberately over the treaty line and crossed his arms. “You have one option, bloodsucker.” He shot a hard glance at his pack, and they all shifted back. “This ends here.”

Jacob growled at his former Alpha, but he didn't move. Sam was right. <shift.> Seth obeyed first, followed immediately by Leah. She crossed her arms over her breasts, ignoring Charlie's muttered protest. One by one, the rest of his pack shifted into human form. Jacob kept his focus on the bloodsucker, softening his threatening snarls to a steady rumble. 

“And you.” The leech glared at Jacob and curled his lip, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. “You shift too.”

<i yield to no one.>

“Edward,” Bella's voice was hard as she pried his fingers from around her neck and stepped away. But the leech’s grip tightened on her hand, refusing to let go. “Edward, please don't.” She suddenly sounded tired, so tired Jacob could feel her exhaustion in his own bones. “You know how this ends. You’ve known for a while. Why did you come back?”

“I hoped Alice was wrong.” The bloodsucker dropped his eyes and smiled. It was bitter and wistful. “She never is.” He paused. “I can wait, Isabella. I will wait, if you wish.”

“No.” She pulled her fingers free. “Don't wait for me.”

The bloodsucker's eyes widened in surprise at the echo of Bella's voice, his arms falling limply to his sides. She stepped firmly away and Jacob sprang between her and the leech. The bloodsucker sighed and held Jacob's gaze for a long moment. Then he turned and walked towards the road. Jacob followed at a steady but tense pace, every muscle quivering. He threw a quick look over his shoulder, satisfied to see Leah and Seth back in wolf form, keeping close to Bella and Charlie. He locked eyes with Sam. They would have to settle things. And soon. Sam nodded and turned towards the woods, his pack close behind. 

"You needn't follow me any further," the bloodsucker had paused, his whole posture twisted in a reluctant acceptance. "I...yield."

<there is no longer a treaty between us.>

"Will you kill me now?" 

<not today.> Jacob bared his teeth, a low snarl uncoiling from his chest. <do not return.>

The leech nodded and let himself into his silver car. "Take care of her, dog."  

When the fancy vehicle finally disappeared from view, Jacob felt something loosen in his gut; a year’s worth of terror, anxiety, worry, and turmoil. He tossed his head, ignoring his trembling legs which threatened to buckle underneath him, and howled long and low and triumphant.

Jake?

<bells.>

Chapter Text

Bella followed Leah and Seth’s wolves through the darkness, trying to stop herself from shaking. 

“You okay, Bell-Bell?” 

“I—,” her teeth were chattering and she felt her knees buckle underneath her. "D-dad?"

“Whoa, hold on.” Charlie quickly passed his shotgun to Embry, who followed just behind them, and then lifted Bella into his arms. “I’ve got you, kiddo.”

She tried to protest, to say she was sorry, to tell them not to worry. “J-Jake? Is he okay?”

“He'll be just fine.” Charlie said firmly. “Everything's fine.”

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

She nodded. A strange wave of relief and terror flooded over her as a long low howl broke through the night, the hairs on her arm standing on end.

Jake?

She thought she could almost feel him, like a burning beacon in the night. 

<bells.>

She blinked, her eyes stinging. It was almost too much—the hell, the heartache, the hope—all of it. She wanted it to be over and she was afraid of what would happen when it was. But it was almost over. A crunching grinding sound told her Seth and Leah had shifted back, and then she heard voices. She blinked, the sudden familiar sight of the Black’s cozy red-painted cabin unfolding from the night. Home. 

“Charlie?” Billy’s voice came from the shadow of the doorway. "Bella?" The porch light flicked on, framing Billy and Sue in a warm, comfortable glow. They both visibly relaxed when they caught sight of them.

“Mom!” Seth bolted passed Charlie, wrapping his mom in an exuberant hug. 

“Watch the baby,” Sue scolded, hugging him just as tightly, with one arm. “He’s sleeping.”

“Holy crow,” Seth breathed, staring at baby Jake, who was curled up like a sack of potatoes in the crook of Sue’s arm. “A boy? That’s awesome.” He shot a wide goofy grin back at Bella. “I was kind of hoping for a girl, but a boy’s great too.”

“Thanks, Seth.” Bella blushed and nodded to Charlie. He gently set her down, keeping a steadying hand on her back. Her legs trembled still, but seeing baby Jake snapped something back into place inside her. She wouldn't fall apart, even if nothing changed. She had changed.

“Let me see him.” Quil pushed Seth aside. “Whoa. He’s like a mini person—”

“Because he’s a baby, dipshit.” Embry crowded in, shoving at Quil. “Hey, little wolf-man.”

“Did you just copy and paste Jake, Bella? Kind of lazy baby making, you know."

"He's got her eyebrows," Seth insisted.

"No, he doesn't."

“Boys,” Billy interrupted, his face tense with cautious hope. “Did you find Jacob?”

“Sure we found him,” Quil said, puffing out his chest. “It was pretty simple.”

“Simple, my ass.” Embry pushed him off the porch. “You wanted to quit two hours in.”

“We still found him, didn’t we?”

“More like he found us,” Seth said.

“Shut up, man,”

A loud snuffing half-bark brought the genial bickering to a halt. Every pack member turned towards the large russet wolf trotting into the yard.

“See?” Quil grinned at Billy. “One Jacob Black, as ordered. Safe and sound.”

“You boys better make yourself scarce,” Charlie said after a heavy pause, exchanging a look with Billy. He motioned towards the door, as if to herd the pack inside, but he kept an arm around Bella, keeping her close, keeping her standing. “This little reunion is going to be awkward enough without a damned audience.”

Embry and Quil were already gearing up to argue, when Billy and Sue added their own commanding threats to Charlie's. Within seconds, the pack was hustled inside, Billy on their heels. Sue gave Bella a small encouraging smile, and then stepped in after them, leaving only Jacob, Bella, and Charlie.

"Well." Charlie snatched up his shotgun from where Embry had leaned it against the porch stairs. “I’m just going to...uh... go inside. Holler if he gets handsy.”

“Oh my God, Charlie, just,” Bella gestured hurriedly after the pack. “I got this.”

"If you say so." He shouldered his gun and jogged up the stairs, whistling a Quileute lullaby. "I'll just be inside." He pointed at Jake, “Keep it PG, Black, or I will shoot your ass.”

"Charlie!"

Then he was gone.

Bella took a deep, painful breath, suddenly unable to look at Jacob now that they were alone. He was pacing near the little creek in front of the cabin, the soft blanket of night sounds settling around them. Jacob hadn’t shifted back. It had always been easier to talk to him in wolf form and she wondered if he was doing it for her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of grateful tears. She didn't deserve any of his kindness; but even at her worst, he'd never failed to be Jake, to think of others, to take care of her.

He let out a snorting breath and she heard his near-silent footsteps as he started to pick his way closer. She still couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, almost couldn’t breathe. Somehow, facing Jacob Black was so much harder than facing Edward Cullen had been. But she wouldn't shrink away now. He deserved this. Another chuffing sound finally made her look up. Once she met his eyes—that wild, dark-golden gaze—she found she couldn’t look away. Jacob was there and the wolf was too, no longer just a skin he wore, but an integral part of him, gold and black, wolf and man. Different and yet the same as he'd always been. And he was home.

"Jake."

She stumbled forward, threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his soft fur. They couldn’t change what had happened, but right now all she wanted was to fall back in time, to when things were simple and easy and just the two of them; back to warm sodas and easy laughter in the his old garage; to lung-crushing hugs and bright, sunny smiles; to space movie marathons and late night couch gossip and— 

<bells.>

She gasped, the soft sound like a whisper that cut her to the very bone. He rubbed his head against her, an odd thrumming sound of contentment rumbling in his throat. She hadn’t realized she was crying until his hot rough tongue gently licked her cheeks. "Jake." Since they’d started fixing up old motorcycles together, almost two years ago, not a day had passed without her thinking of him. He’d become such a steady fixture in her life and mind and heart. How could she have ever believed she didn’t love him enough?  “I’m sorry.” It was so soft, almost too soft, but she meant it with every part of her. He nudged her with his nose, the purring thrum growing louder. She dug her fingers tighter into his fur, burying her face in the woodsy softness again. “I missed you.”

Bella would always wonder if they would’ve gone on standing there, her crying and hiding, him silent and waiting. But the low cries of her baby brought her back to herself and to the reason they were there at all. “Jake.” She turned and moved quickly towards the house. “He’s probably hungry.” When she reached the door, she paused, and turned back. Jacob stood so rigid and silent, he could’ve been carved from wood. He still hadn’t shifted and something about it struck her as odd. “Jake?”

Baby Jake kept fussing, and then Sue appeared behind the screen door, her dark eyes taking in the scene. “He needs you, little mother.” She smiled and pushed open the door, slipping the crying baby into Bella’s arms. “And his father.” 

“But he’s still in wolf form,” Bella said anxiously. “Something's wrong, Sue. Like it won’t let him go and—”

“Trust the wolf,” Sue said. She laid a hand on Bella's shoulder. “It’s part of Jacob, as surely as you are. This is his pup.”

Bella nodded, cuddling her son closer. Then she took a deep breath and stepped back down into the yard, approaching the huge wolf with careful yet deliberate movements. His golden-black eyes were fixed on the baby in her arms. He took a single step forward, then stopped, body taut and tense. She paused less than hand’s length away and waited, watching the wolf's every movement, an odd roiling, buzzing feeling building in her chest, almost burning into her. The wolf lowered it’s nose and gently touched the baby. She heard the sharp intake of breath. Baby Jake wriggled, starting to cry again, his skinny arms flailing a little the more worked up he got. 

“Hush,” She murmured and kissed his head. Then she turned him around so Jacob could see his face. “This is Jake.”

The wolf stiffened, letting out another whoosh of warm breath. Baby Jake stopped crying and his bright, black eyes blinked open, meeting the golden-black eyes of the wolf. And it was as if the world stopped, the sounds and sights fading as father and son stared at each other, unblinking. Gravity faded, and they hung there, in a new world of their own making—Jake, Bells, and their son.

<ours.>

It was an echo rolling through her, and over her, and in her, soft and possessive and full of warmth, that one simple word anchoring them back to the earth. Gravity wasn’t necessary. They were enough.

The wolf let out a guttural grumbling whine, sinking down to the ground in a trembling heap. Then the wolf skin split and slivered in on itself. Jacob fell onto his hands and knees, coughing, teeth chattering, body shaking and shivering. Bella watched, unsure of what she should do. Baby Jake began fussing again, his little cries spilling out into the terrible silence. Jacob’s head snapped up. He shook himself and stood. Bella couldn't help but stare, heart thundering in her chest. Everything about him was the same and yet so different. He was harder, stronger, older, every inch an Alpha. But he was still Jake. Her Jake. At least—she hoped he was. So when he reached out, a fierce determined look on his face, she gave him their baby without hesitation. His large hands were so careful, so gentle, tucking the little bundle firmly against his chest.

Jacob closed his eyes, his chest heaving, almost as if he was in pain. Bella bit her lip, waiting.

"Your pain is my pain," she'd told him once. She'd been trying to make him understand what he meant to her, trying to explain. But how could she, when she hadn't understood it herself? She'd grabbed his hand and held it. "You're Jake." She'd smiled, hoping, waiting, and willing him to understand. It was so selfish, so broken.

He'd smiled back, a shadow of his sunny self, but trying—for her—to comfort her even in his own pain. "And you're Bells."

She'd nodded. It didn't change his pain, or hers, but somehow it had helped. 

Jacob was in pain again, but now it was the good kind, the best kind, the kind of pain that heals and forgives and redeems when it passes. The worst of this nightmare was over, and he was holding their future, the one they’d both seen on the cold hopeless morning after sharing a terrible desperate kiss. She wished she could take his pain and wash it all away, not for herself, but for him, even if he was never hers again.

"Jake?"

"Bells." He almost choked on his words. "Is this real?"

She nodded.

"Is this really over?"

 "Almost." 

Chapter Text

Bella followed Jacob as he stumbled into the house. He still hadn’t touched her. He was almost afraid to. The baby in his arms wriggled, snuggling closer, and Jacob looked down at him. His son. His whole body felt unbearably heavy, anchored to the earth by the tiny warm bundle of baby he still held. His wolf almost purred with satisfied contentment. The screen door slammed sharply behind him, and Jacob blinked in the low light of the kitchen. His pack was there, watching him with sharp eyes. He could smell their questions, their worry, their relief. And then there was Charlie, and Sue, and—

The familiar squeak of wheels and his father’s low voice tugged something loose inside Jacob and he felt himself sink to his knees again, one arm still holding his baby, the other clutching his father close. “Dad.” The word choked out of him. He suddenly felt small and tired and so heavy. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Billy shook his head and wrapped his strong arms tighter around Jacob. Then Billy kissed the top of his head, like he used to, so many years ago, before everything around them fell apart. “You’re my boy and you're home, and that’s enough. No apologies.” 

Jacob nodded, and pulled in a shaking breath, trying to stand. But his legs wouldn’t cooperate. 

“Come on,” Charlie’s gruff voice said, almost in his ear. The older man had crossed from the kitchen into the living room. "Let's get you some clothes, Jake." Charlie helped him to stand, and then moved as if to take the baby.

“Don’t!” It was sharp, almost a growl. Charlie flinched back, as if he’d been slapped. Jake straightened to his full height, his wolf growling beneath his skin. “Don’t touch him.”

Charlie blinked against the Alpha command, but held up his hands in front of him. For the first time in their acquaintance the chief looked at Jacob with a new respect in his expression. It was the way he looked at Billy, and Harry, and even Sam—like a man and an equal. His wolf bared it's teeth at the thought of Sam Uley, but Jacob held the impulse back. He would have to deal with his old Alpha. And soon.

“Jacob,” Billy’s voice was low and cautious. His sharp black eyes darted towards where Sue Clearwater had moved closer. “Son?”

"I...I'm sorry." Jacob shook his head, as if to clear it, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that no one should touch his baby. No one except—

“Something happened,” Bella said softly. She stepped from behind him into the soft yellow light. “When Jacob saw the baby, he—something happened.“ She glanced up at him and her eyes softened in a way that almost hurt. “I felt it. It was like gravity sort of shifted,” she said slowly, still holding Jacob's gaze. “And then…it re-centered.”

"Around the baby?" Billy asked, his voice tight and tense. 

She nodded. "And Jacob."

Billy shook his head, and looked at Bella curiously. Then he glanced sharply at his son. "Jake? Did you feel the same?" 

"Yes." Jacob swallowed. "And more."

So much more. It was like the world had blurred at the edges, fading into a grayer version of itself, while Bella and their baby glowed in sharp, tangible color. mine. mine. mine. But there was an edge to this impulse. This was everything. Bella and his baby were everything in a way that sank into his bones. 

“Imprinting." Billy sounded dazed. "He's imprinted."

“Is this another crazy wolfy-weird thing?” Charlie demanded. "Like the whole alpha-mate nonsense?"

"The council wasn't sure it was real." Billy's face was pale, but he was smiling, a soft look of awe lighting his whole expression. "We thought it was a legend."

“What is it?” Jacob demanded. He was so tired of wolf-things messing with his life. "What happened to me?"

"Not you, son." Billy's smile widened. "Baby Jake."

"That's great, Billy," Charlie growled. "Would you mind filling the rest of the class in?"

"Imprinting is a natural phenomenon, most commonly found in ducklings. It's nature’s way of protecting infants,” Billy explained. “Wolves—especially Quileute spirit wolves—are vicious predators. The body’s fear response to a predator is instinctual. We can't help but be terrified, especially children." Billy smiled and looked at the small bundle Jacob still held. "With imprinting, little Jake will always know his father, even in wolf form. He won’t ever be afraid of him.”

Half a beat of silence. Then it seemed everyone in the room took a breath at once.

"So baby Jake is a little werewolf-duckling?" Seth asked, grinning. "That's so cool!"

Billy chuckled, "In a way."

“And what about my wolf?” Jacob asked hesitantly, his hands suddenly trembling. 

“Your spirit wolf has claimed your son as his own pup. He can never hurt him, and neither can any member of the pack.”

Relief rushed over Jacob, making his hands shake even harder. This couldn't be real. It was too easy and everything had been so hard for so long, he almost couldn't let himself trust this moment. 

“Of course we wouldn’t,” Leah Clearwater said, firm and low. She stepped closer. "Little Jake is pack."

Jacob raised his eyes and looked carefully at his pack. His family. He could smell his son all over them. Bella too. They trusted this ending. If nothing else, he knew he could trust them, even if he couldn't quite trust himself. They’d given everything for him, even as they suffered from his absence. Despite it all, here they were, standing with him when he needed them. It was time to finish this. Jacob took a breath and nodded at Leah. His pack needed their Alpha. He turned to Bella and held out their son. Her small hands slipped over his, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Jake?" she asked softly. He could smell the wave of worry and almost feel her heart begin to pound. "What is it?"

“Sam.” He brushed a thumb over her hand before he let go. “This ends tonight.”

“Wait, what does that mean?” Charlie demanded, his eyes darting back and forth between Jacob and the pack, who’d all moved towards the door, low growls filling the room. “What about Sam?"

"Charlie—"

"Nobody leaves until someone explains what the hell is going on now.”

Jacob took a breath, but Bella laid her hand gently on his arm, stepping between them. Like she was protecting him. For once.

“Dad, don't,” she said firmly. “It's just a wolf thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, another fucking wolf-thing,” the chief rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to stop the pack as they filed out the front door.

Jacob paused, the last to leave. Bella was still watching him. And she still stood between her father and him, cradling their baby in her arms. He could smell her worry sharpen, an acrid scent cutting across the softer smells of home, and pack, and his baby. He stared harder. It pulled at him. He stepped back towards her, suddenly desperate to make sure she was really there, that this whole thing wasn’t a crazy stupid love-sick dream. He’d had those before; dreams where she loved him, where she stayed, where she was his and he was hers, building a life that he could lose himself in, happy and content for the first time in his whole damn life.  He reached out, his fingers sliding into the mess of her hair, gripping it almost too tightly. She didn’t flinch away and she didn’t disappear. He took a step closer and bent, burying his nose in her hair. He breathed in deeply, her scent running through his body and soul like liquid fire. The honey smell that had always clung to her was there, and the strawberry-sage of her favorite shampoo was there too, and a tangle of emotions threading underneath something else—a woodsy brown smell of wolf. Jacob closed his eyes, frowning. It was so familiar to him, he'd almost missed it. She smelled like the pack. Like him. 

mine.

Bella swallowed. “You’ll come back.”

Maybe she meant it as a question, but it came out as a command, soft, but firm. Like she wanted nothing more than for him to come back. To her. He felt the force of it shivering like an echo over his skin. It wasn't the same as when Sam had bent Jacob to his will. Still, Jacob almost expected his wolf to snarl in resistance, but all he felt was a purring agreement, and the tug of that new gravity, binding him to her and to his son. Jacob lifted his free hand and brushed his fingers through the downy black hair of their baby, still in awe. Every cell in his body seemed to exist for her, for the well-being of this new human, and for their little family. It almost scared him. He would kill for them, die for them, do whatever it took to protect them, be whatever they needed. 

“Jake?”

“I’ll come back.”  He tightened his grip on her hair, and pressed his eyes closed. He listened to her breath, her heartbeat as they mingled with the quick shallow breaths and fluttering heartbeat of their son. He would always come back to her.

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

She sighed, her relief like a warm brush across his skin. She didn't shrink back or pull away from him. She simply waited until he was ready to let go. When he finally untangled his fingers from her hair, she grabbed his hand. "Be safe." 

He nodded. 

Chapter Text

Bella couldn’t settle after Jacob left. An uneasy wakefulness buzzed under her skin, along with a lingering sense that he was still there somehow. He'd said he would come back and she knew it was true. Could almost taste it. So, she kept herself busy. She fed little Jake, while Charlie and Sue lingered. They talked quietly with Billy until Sue managed to drag Charlie to the door. He promised Bella he'd be back first thing in the morning. She nodded, knowing he needed to say it and wishing he didn’t. 

“Go home, Chief,” Billy grumbled, with a sharp glance at Bella. He knew. “My son will take care of them now.”

“Sure, sure.” Charlie looked uncomfortable, running a hand over his graying hair. “If you’re sure, Bell-Bell.”

“I'm sure,” she said, smiling, and gave him an unexpected hug. "I'm alright now," she whispered. 

Charlie gave her one last squeeze. Then they were gone and the house fell into its habitual silence. Billy wheeled himself into his own room with a grunt for a goodnight. And Bella was alone. She tucked little Jake into his bed. Then she found some household chores, trying to keep her focus on the task at hand. But her eyes wandered out the windows, peering into the gloomy the forest again and again. She was elbow-deep in soapy water and dirty dishes when a soft, velvet warmth turned over in her chest. Jake. He felt nearer. She glanced sharply out of the window, eyes flicking over the darkened trees.

Jake?

A shadow shifted in the brush. Bella chewed on her lip, tense, listening, waiting.

<bells.>

Then Jacob staggered out of the woods, half-carrying someone who looked like Sam Uley. Bella gasped and dropped the plate she was holding. It clattered into the sink, cracking. She hurried towards the door, and held it open as the two men clambered inside, bruised and bloody. Her eyes flicked back to the woods where she felt the hummed murmur of the pack, all in wolf form.

<that was awesome>

<jake sure kicked his ass>

<will sam be okay?>

<who cares, seth?>

<shut up, quil.>

<all of you shut up!>

<jeez, lee—>

<go home, paul.>

Bella shook herself and closed the screen door quietly. She turned and held back a small sound of horror. Sam was a battered bloody mess of cuts and bruises and bite marks. But he was alive and his werewolf healing was already working on the myriad of injuries covering his body. Jacob sported over a dozen injuries, and he was limping heavily, but the tight prowling look from before was gone. He was full Alpha now, confident and calm. Bella felt herself breathe easier.

“Sam?” She laid a hand on his swollen cheek. He'd promised to give Jacob a real Alpha fight, and he’d been true to his word. It almost made her smile. "Are you alright?"

“It’s done.” Sam was wheezing, and winced in pain as Jacob lowered him onto the sofa, but his eyes were brighter, and lighter, than she’d ever seen. He almost looked happy. “I’m done. It’s all done.”

“Do you want me to call Emily?” Bella asked.

“No.” Sam coughed, a thick, wheezing sound that chilled Bella’s bones. The worst bites were around his neck, and she wondered if his windpipe had been crushed. The last time one of the pack had been injured like this, it had been Jacob, all the bones on one side of his body broken all at once by a newborn vampire. “Don’t call her.” Sam coughed again and shook his head. “I’m not staying here.” He still clutched at Jake’s hand, pain making his skin shine with sweat. “I’m done shifting.”

Bella glanced sharply at Jacob.

He frowned at his former Alpha. “I need a Beta, Sam. It’s yours if you want it.”

“You’ve got Lee Lee.” Sam’s voice had softened, and he closed his eyes. “No one's better than Lee Lee."

"It's your right as former Alpha."

Sam shook his head. "I’m done, Jacob.”

“What about Emily?” Bella had moved next to Jacob, taking his hand, almost without realizing it. “She loves you.”

“She loved who I was when I was fifteen.” Sam sighed, his breathing labored, heavy. “She deserves better than who I am. So does Lee Lee.”

Bella frowned, wanting to argue. But Jake squeezed her hand, shaking his head ever so slightly. She swallowed hard, trying not to cling to him too tightly.

“Where will you go?” Jacob asked.

“Somewhere I can rest. And think.”

“You can stay here until tomorrow's sunset,” Jacob said. “After that, you’re gone from La Push or you’re pack.”

Sam nodded, his breathing already easier, slower, less labored. “Thank you.”

They stood there, watching, until Sam fell asleep. When Jacob turned, as if to go, Bella tugged on his hand until he paused. He frowned a little, but he didn’t pull away.

"Are you," she bit her lip, hesitating. The words came slowly. But she had to say them. "Are you going too?" She wouldn’t blame him for leaving now, after everything she’d said and done to him. She was trying not to clutch at him, to grab hold of him and never let go, to tell him everything trying to claw its way out of her all at once. He didn’t say anything so she hurried on. "I just…I understand if you want to—if you need to go."

Jacob studied her quietly. “I’m not going anywhere." He tilted his head to one side, his black eyes boring into hers. They were so serious, so old, so different from what she remembered. She could almost feel his scrutiny, his doubt. Then he shifted closer. “I’m the Alpha now.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He didn’t quite smile, but she could see it hiding in his eyes, like a spark of hope. "I’d like to go to bed.”

“Oh,” she whispered. Before she knew quite what she was doing, she trailed her fingers lightly over his arm. He stiffened, and she swore she could feel his wolf, like a fire beneath his skin. "Jake?"

“Bells.” His voice was thick and almost choked.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked. His grip tightened on her hand, but she still didn’t let go, even when it hurt. She'd let him go too many times, letting him fall, and break. For her. She never wanted to hurt him like that again. Never again. "It's alright if you do—"

"No." Every line in his body turned to flint. "I don't."

"Why?"

“Why did you name him 'Jake'," he asked, ignoring her question. His eyes darkened, hardened, as if to protect himself. 

"Because," Bella bit her lip, considering her words. Then she shrugged, settling on the truth, no matter how stupid it sounded. “Because I wanted to. Because he’s yours. If he was all I ever got to keep of us, I wanted to keep you.”

His eyes closed, as if he was bracing himself against her words. 

"Jake, I'm sorry," she said softly. A beat of silence passed. Then two. “Can you forgive me?” she asked quietly. His eyes snapped open and he stared at her again. She hated the way his eyes looked but she refused to hide anymore. “I hurt you, Jake." She swallowed, keeping her eyes on his. "And if that’s too much for you right now, I understand.”

“Do you?” he demanded. It was sharp, cutting, and unforgiving.

She didn’t look down or try to pull away from the steel edge in his voice. And she didn’t cry. She continued to hold his fierce gaze and took a breath. 

"I...I need some time." He said at last. "I don't know how much, just...I need time."

"I can go to Forks," she nodded softly. "Charlie won't mind."

"No." The word snapped out of him, laced with a growl. And she could almost feel it under her skin and stirring of his wolf, like bared teeth, and heat. "I want you here."

"Are you sure?" She didn't know what made her ask. 

Instead of answering, Jake's eyes flashed and he tugged her into his arms, almost crushing her against him. It wasn't quite the same as the exuberant bear hugs she remembered. Those were easy and free and cozy. This hug was sharp and rough and possessive, but she couldn't stop herself from melting into him, from wishing they could still go back. Or maybe just find some way of moving forward.

"Stay." Jacob said.

She trembled a little and she sucked in a sharp breath, the word weaving between them, anchoring them together in a new way; one more connection among so many others that had always been there. She'd tried to ignore them before, and now he was almost trying to do the same. It wouldn't work. She nodded, happy tears stinging at her eyes. They both knew they couldn’t go back to being Jake and Bells before everything fell apart. That part of their life was done. But maybe they could find a new Jake and a new Bells, with time. 

Chapter Text

Time is a torturous thing; plodding forward, relentless, with no regard for anything or anyone, always the same, like sand falling through an hourglass. For Jacob, those first few weeks back in La Push were the longest and also the shortest of his life. Some days he couldn't bear the slow excruciating demands of it all, and other days, every moment rushed passed him no matter how hard he tried to slow everything down.

With Sam gone, the pack settled into a new dynamic, yet it wasn't wasn't easy for everyone to find their place and their peace. It was the hardest on Paul Lahote. He was already angry and bitter before Jacob left. Now that he'd taken over Sam's roll as Alpha, Paul's anger seemed to crack open. He was furious; with Sam, with Jacob, and most of all, with Bella. He methodically avoided the Black cabin whenever he could, refused to acknowledge baby Jake as a member of the pack, and filled the pack mind with a constant stream of insults and cutting comments about Bella until Leah and Seth were ready to rip off his wolf's hide. They begged Jacob to stop him with an Alpha command, but he wouldn't force Paul's hand. It had to be Paul's choice in the end. But Jacob also refused to give him an inch when it came to Bella and baby Jake.

"You either accept them as part of your pack or you will leave it." Jacob told him the third week after he'd taken over the pack as Alpha.

Paul spat, his face dark with anger, but Jacob could also sense his wounded pride. "Is that a command, almighty Alpha?" Paul demanded.

Jacob didn't bother repeating himself. Paul knew the answer and Jacob was done with this conversation. He turned back towards home and left Paul to stew in his anger. Either he would find his way forward or he wouldn't. But Jacob wouldn't let him drag the pack down with him.

"How the hell can you forgive that leech-lover?" Paul shouted after him. "She betrayed us all."

Jacob paused and looked back over his shoulder. An odd affection for Paul, in all his anger and fiery temper, stirred underneath his skin. He would always be his brother. "I forgave her," Jacob said with a shrug, "because she asked me to."

"And that's enough for you?" Paul stumbled a little on the wet leaves underfoot. "She bats her eyes and says she's sorry and you're good?"

"It's enough." Jacob said firmly. He knew he couldn't quite explain it—not to his father, not to Charlie, and certainly not to Paul Lahote. Of course he was still angry, still hurt, but Bella's apology was enough. She wasn't the same and neither was he. With time, they would heal. The one person Jacob thought understood was Leah. The morning Sam had left, Leah had barreled into the cabin and stopped short, like she'd been slapped. She stared at the couch for a long time. Then she'd glanced up to where Jacob and Billy sat at the kitchen table.

"Where's Bella?"

Jacob hadn't answered, surprised she'd asked about Bella instead of Sam. Billy grunted. "Asleep."

Leah had nodded, grabbed a chair, and sat, holding Jacob's stare.

"Sam's gone," he said.

"Obviously." Leah seemed entirely disinterested. "Now that I'm officially your Beta, let's get one thing straight."

Jacob frowned, his wolf bristling at her accusing tone and posture. "Go on."

"Betrayal is a bitch and she did a number on you. We all saw it. But she's here and I know she apologized."

"Leah—"

"I would kill for an apology for Sam." She pushed herself to her feet. "Hurt Bella on purpose and I'll kick your ass, Black."

Jacob smiled at the memory. Leah was fiercely loyal, and how that loyalty had found a home with Bella, he couldn't begin to guess.

It was another three weeks before Paul finally made his decision. No one ever knew what changed, and Jacob wondered if Leah had something to do with it. He never asked, and Paul never said. He simply showed up at the cabin one night. Jacob stiffened as Paul walked straight up to where Bella stood with baby Jake. Paul regarded her for a moment, then he ran a hand over little Jake's hair and down his back. Then he leaned down and took a gentle sniff, his face softening.

"Paul," Bella said gently, as she tangled her fingers with his, and met his hard stare with sad eyes. "Are you hungry?"

Paul nodded. His eyes widened when she carefully passed him the baby. "Hold Jake and I'll get you something."

It was a gesture of complete trust Paul didn't deserve and he knew it. Jacob had watched him with a razor intensity as he'd fumbled a minute with little Jake. When Bella returned with a large sandwich and a soft smile, Paul accepted the food without a word, ate it standing, and then left. Paul had asked for his forgiveness, in his own twisted Paul-way, and Bella had asked for hers. Jacob knew it would be alright. It didn't fix everything all at once, and Jacob knew Bella didn't expect a miracle, but it didn't stop her.

She was so different now than how he remembered her. She was more patient, with him and herself, giving him the space during the days that he needed to find his own place; as the Alpha and just as himself, after almost a year away. She made few demands on him, waiting for him to decide what he wanted and what he needed from her. It took time, but he grew to trust that she would accept whatever he decided. For the first time in his life, he felt he could truly choose something just for himself. It was a freedom that almost made deciding impossible. But time made it easier.

For those first six weeks, their days were spent mostly apart. Jacob was working on setting up his own mechanic shop, gathering a steady stream of car repair jobs, and ironing out pack responsibilities in his spare time. Bella kept herself busy with little Jake. Once she'd been cleared by the doctor for physical labor, she spent most of her time refurbishing Sarah Black's cabin. Billy had given the cabin to them soon after it became clear that Jacob and Bella would both be staying in La Push. Billy's cabin would always be home base, but they all knew it was too small for the four of them, especially with the pack tramping in and out at all hours. Steady purpose made the days easy. The nights were harder. Jacob needed Bella close by; needed to know she on the rez where she was safe and protected. But at night he found he needed her closer.

They'd shared a bed that first night he'd returned, and every night since. But it was different now. Sometimes they would simply lie there, the sliver of space between them like a expanding chasm neither had the energy to cross. Sometimes he needed to touch her, running his fingers over the skin of her face, and in her hair, learning the feeling of her all over again. And sometimes, they would talk.

Tonight was a talking night. After almost two months, most of their nights had become talking nights. He told her about his time in Canada, about the loggers, about Danjo, and hunting vampires alone. He also told her about the nightmares, and the crushing agony of every sunrise while he waited for her to die, and the growing collection of marks in the back of a cheap notebook. She told him about her time with the Cullens before they'd left her, about how her vampire scar had faded, and the bite mark on her shoulder had grown darker, hotter. She told him about her time alone and her time in Florida, as her body temperature rose and her senses sharpened.

"I...I could hear you," she said. "Sometimes. When you were gone."

Jacob was silent a moment, then he shrugged, that familiar one-shoulder, easy shrug Billy always used. "It's a wolf thing."

"Could…could Emily," she stopped.

"Sam never mentioned it." Jacob said quietly. "But no, I don't think she could." He rolled over onto his side and laid his hand on the bite mark on her shoulder. It was always hot to the touch and she always shivered whenever he touched it. He liked that. And he liked seeing it. "I could hear you too. And not just sometimes." He could always hear her, in wolf form or not. "I thought I was dreaming,. Or crazy."

"Wolf-boy." It was affectionate and soft. I love you.

Jake held his breath. She'd never said it out loud, and the first time he'd heard it, he wasn't sure it was real. Sometimes he still wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming or crazy. Sometimes being here with her was too perfect, too much like how he'd always imagined it could be if they could just be Jake and Bells again.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. Her fingers had slipped around his wrist and he realized he was gripping her shoulder so tight it must've hurt her. He tried to let go, but couldn't.

mine.

"Bells." They lay in the strange tense silence, Bella very obviously trying not to get too close, trying to give him the space she thought he needed or wanted. But he didn't want it anymore, didn't care if he needed it. He gently pulled on her shoulder until she scooted closer. Not close enough. He tugged again, until he was holding her body against his. "Bells," he said again. "Tell me this is real."

"It's real."

"Am I crazy?"

"You're not."

He let out a shuddering breath, her whispered words almost too sharp, painting a picture that he wanted so much his whole body ached with it. "Do you still want me?"

A pause. He could almost feel the small embarrassed smile before she whispered, "Yes."

And he knew it was true. Could feel it was true. His eyes stung and he blinked hard, his arms tightening until she was wedged tightly against him.

"Do you believe me?" she asked, a finger tracing along his shoulder.

"Yes."

"So, do you still want me, wolf-boy?"

She was trying to sound light-hearted. To make it easier for him, if he couldn't answer. But he could smell her spike of anxiety, could feel the regret tightening in her stomach. He didn't answer at first. He slowly eased her onto her back, shifting over her until he could look her full in the face. Her dark brown eyes were wide and almost frightened; of what he would say, or maybe wouldn't say. Jacob let her wait another moment, holding her gaze in an Alpha challenge that she didn't shrink from.

"Yes." He dropped his head and kissed the mark on her shoulder. "I do."

"N-now?"

"Yes." His wolf grumbled. mine! He kissed hungrily up her neck to the soft underside of her jaw. "I'll always want you."

"Why?"

He pulled back and stared at her again. The wolf had waited long enough and so had he. "Because." He laid his hand on her cheek, tenderly tracing over the familiar features he'd memorized the night he'd first taken her. "You're Bells."

"And you're Jake," she breathed.

Then he smiled, and it felt real. Because they were Jake and Bells. He leaned down and kissed her; soft and sweet for a beat, then hard and demanding the next. His wolf purred as she kissed him back, matching his desire. It was different from their first, desperate kiss on the mountain top. But in that kiss was the promise of a future he'd thought he'd lost.

"Jake," Bella cupped his face with her hands. "I love you."

He exhaled, a hard hot breath, his vision suddenly blurry with tears. She brushed them away before they fell, and kissed him again.

"Bells, I'll always be yours." His voice was hoarse. "I can't stop."

"Does that mean I can bite you too?" she asked, teasing.

The growling response that tore from his chest made them both laugh. And later, when she did bite his shoulder hard enough that it bled, Jacob knew the mark would be there in the morning. It was the only scar his werewolf body would ever keep. Because she was his, and he was hers.