Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Why can’t you just follow the rules, Jacob?” I yelled. It always had to be him, didn’t it? “What the hell are you thinking? Is she more important than everything — than the whole tribe? Than the people getting killed!?”

“She can help,” Jacob said. Softly. Almost pleadingly.

“Help!” I spat. I was shaking, shaking, about to lose myself. “Oh, that’s likely! I’m sure the leech-lover is just dying to help us out!”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Jacob shouted back, drawing himself up to his fullest height in defense of the girl that cowered behind him. That fucking girl.

My entire body shuddered.

“Paul! Relax!” ordered Sam.

But not even he could overturn this.

I shook my head. I was trying. It was taking me.

“Jeez, Paul,” said Jared. “Get a grip…”

I whipped around to glare at him, my lips curling back involuntarily over my teeth in a vicious snarl, warning him not to interfere. It was the fucking leech-lover. All her. The skinny little outsider who had put us all in danger, who revered walking corpses as though it wasn’t their fault that we had become monstrosities. The traitor that Jacob loved.

I looked into her eyes.

“Shell”

-Ethan Tasch

So the redheaded leech wanted to kill her. The redhead, that other one that had ambushed her in a meadow… it was like every bloodsucker within a thousand-mile radius was out to get her, and it was our job to make sure that didn’t happen. It was why we existed, we wretched few who were now crammed into a kitchen that was almost too small to hold us: to protect people from monsters like them. But the longer I sat there, unmoving, the more forcefully this one, all-consuming thought wrenched its way into my consciousness: it was why I existed.

I couldn’t even say her name in my own head out of fear that if I did, it would all be over. It would be made real, and I would have to confront it.

Paul Lahote had imprinted on the vampires’ pet.

She was leaning against my kitchen counter with Jacob, almost hidden from my sight by his curtain of long hair as she morosely picked at a muffin I had bought from the store. I nearly erupted into flames then, the very fibers of my being thrumming with the knowledge that she and I were in the same room, in my house, too far apart. I hated it.

She wasn’t looking at me, and neither was he. Thank God for that; I don’t think I could have handled it.

I had seen her before, of course, a million times; which of us sorry sons of bitches hadn’t? Victims to Jacob’s adulation, subjected to her desolate heart and his unrelenting worship day in and day out. I had seen her pallid, woeful face through his eyes, made beautiful by his love, and felt her misery through his mind. She was a delicate thing that he had breathed the life back into. Just a girl.

A girl he had tried, until today, to keep safe from our curse.

Jacob hadn’t seen into my mind when I’d changed, had been too preoccupied by the ripping and tearing and bared muzzles to realize that only seconds before, I had ceased belonging to myself. Now this affliction had shown me who she really was, what she really meant, and everything I had ever seen through Jacob was diminished by comparison. A weak imitation of everything I now felt.

Vile, confusing, unsolicited feelings I would torch, if only I could.

I blinked, emerging from my thoughts as though I were stepping out of a heavy fog.

Jared was saying something about using her as bait to lure the redhead into La Push, and I forced down the unwanted ripple that shot through me like a bitter mouthful of something rotten. For the first time since I’d known him, I was grateful that Jacob was in love with her, because I could count on him to say — or do — what I couldn’t allow myself to. And I couldn’t help but set my jaw in satisfaction as I watched him snatch up a can opener and lob it at Jared’s head.

“Bella is not bait,” said Jacob firmly.

“You know what I mean,” muttered Jared.

“So we’ll be changing our patterns,” said Sam, as though Jacob and Jared hadn’t just taken a shot at each other. “We’ll try leaving a few holes and see if she falls for it. We’ll have to split up, and I don’t like that. But if she’s really after Bella, she probably won’t try to take advantage of our divided numbers.”

I knew Sam was speaking, but the only fucked up thing I could think about was how her name out of anyone else’s mouth but mine was nearly enough to kill me. I willed myself to sit still. Could she feel it too? Had she seen it in my eyes in the split second it had taken for me to phase in front of her? Did she understand that she was pulling me into her orbit, an asteroid drawn to the earth?

She and Jacob were whispering conspiratorially to each other, their heads bowed, and it was driving me insane. How could I have felt such a powerful claim over some stranger who, up until an hour ago, I wouldn’t have given two shits about? How was it that everyone around me continued to exist, completely oblivious to the universe condensing itself into the gaze of a thin, somber girl?

I felt angry, helpless, like the tide: always fighting to draw away from the sand, always fated to crash back against the shore. Over and over and over.

“Quil’s got to be close to joining us,” Embry murmured just then, drawing me back to the present. “Then we’d be able to split evenly.”

Quil…

A hush fell over us, and everyone looked down, including me. Now we were all thinking of him, praying to whatever gods were out there that he wouldn’t have to be like us. Animals governed by wrath. But then I noticed her look up at Jacob, worry painted all over her face — her lovely, heart-breaking, vampire-loving face — and I almost forgot that Quil even existed. I willed her to see me, appalled by a yearning I couldn’t control.

Look at me, I thought. It was repulsive. Worry about me. Love me —

“Well, we won’t count on that,” said Sam finally. “Paul, Jared, and Embry will take the outer perimeter, and Jacob and I will take the inner. We’ll collapse in when we’ve got her trapped.”

My heart leapt. I was assigned to the outer perimeter. That meant I would be closer to her house in Forks on my patrols —

“Jacob thinks it would be best if you spent as much time as possible here in La Push,” Sam told her. “She won’t know where to find you so easily, just in case.”

“What about Charlie?” she demanded. Her father.

“March Madness is still going,” said Jacob. “I think Billy and Harry can manage to keep him down here when he’s not at work.”

Sam held one hand up.

“Wait,” he said. “That’s what Jacob thinks is best, but you need to decide for yourself. You should weigh the risks of both options very seriously. You saw this morning how easily things can get dangerous around here… how quickly they get out of hand.”

Shame and anger trickled down my spine as I sensed her glance sideways at me, seeing nothing more than a volatile asshole whose chief contribution to the pack as far as she was concerned was how rapidly he could lose himself. I kept my head low.

“If you choose to stay with us,” Sam continued, “I can’t make any guarantees about your safety.”

A flash of something painful cast a grim shadow over his features then, and for a moment he seemed to wither before us, lost in that dark, distant dream we had watched him live through for months. Then the shadow vanished as swiftly as it had come.

“I won’t hurt her.”

For a single, mortifying second, I thought it was me who had said it. But Sam was looking at Jacob, who had turned away to pretend that he had just not spoken aloud his — and now my — greatest fear.

Then Sam addressed the girl again. “If there was somewhere else you felt safe…”

She looked petrified, and I wished I could console her. Nauseating.

“I don’t want to lead Victoria anywhere else,” she whispered.

“That’s true,” said Sam, nodding. “It’s better to have her here, where we can end this.”

She flinched, and I caught her looking at Jacob again out of the corner of my eye.

“You’ll be careful, right?” she blurted out.

At that, the room erupted into cries of raucous amusement. We didn’t need to be careful. This was the one thing we were built to do. The filthy leech wouldn’t even see us coming.

Then the food we had ordered arrived, and I spent the rest of the afternoon deliberately avoiding the one person I longed to be near, moving around her as though we were planets. At length, she and Jacob left for the Blacks’ house to wait with Billy for Chief Swan to come down for dinner, and as soon as they’d gone, I jumped up and started putting things in trash bags just to have something to do.

Jared let out a long, low whistle. “Wow.” He sounded awed. “Vampire hunt and a new girl.”

“Easy,” chuckled Embry. “Let Jake get on with it first, would you?”

“He’d better,” jeered Jared. “It’d suck if we spent the last few weeks watching the Bella show on Jacob TV for nothing.”

“Don’t lose focus,” said Sam. “The redhead is a threat. We start the first shift tonight, eight hours.”

“EIGHT!?” said Embry incredulously.

“Eight,” confirmed Sam.

“Look, I wanna hunt the bloodsucker down as bad as the next guy, but don’t you think that’s going a bit overboard?” said Jared.

“I want this taken care of as soon as possible. I want her off our land,” said Sam shortly. “I’ll let the Council know what we’ve got planned and join you later with Jacob. That should give him enough time to wrap things up with the girl.”

Jared and Embry looked at each other before devolving into fits of riotous laughter.

“Bet he wants her wrapped up all kinds of ways,” snickered Jared.

“Urgh, don’t make me think about that stuff,” groaned Embry, feigning disgust.

Jared sidled up to me as I busied myself around the house, picking up empty pizza boxes and crumpled-up paper towels. He elbowed me in the ribs.

“Think you can handle yourself around the vampire girl?” he teased, jabbing a finger at the mostly-healed scar on my forearm. The scar I had earned from Jacob at her expense. A wound that, even after it disappeared, would remind me, forever, of her. “Unless you want Jake to rip your arm off for real, you should probably try not to blow up at her every five seconds.”

“Worry about yourself,” I muttered, shrugging him off to shove more garbage into the bag.

“Woohoo-hoo,” said Jared, stepping back and pretending as though I’d burned him. “Down, boy.”

“Aw, c’mon, Paul,” said Embry bracingly. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

Sam, who had been standing at the screen door, spoke up too.

“They’re right,” he said, without bothering to face me. He was staring into the night, searching the darkness for someone far away. “Whether or not this girl has run with vampires in the past is immaterial; we’re responsible for her well-being, no matter what I said today. It’s on us to keep ourselves in check.”

He turned then, but it seemed to cost him a great effort. Even though he was looking directly into my eyes, I knew he was dreaming that dark dream again.

“Can I expect you to control your temper?”

He sounded authoritative now, his voice full and commanding. The Alpha of our pack.

I stuffed the last pizza box into the trash bag and tied it up with much more force than was necessary, ripping the tags off the black plastic. I threw the whole thing into a corner.

“Sure, Sam,” I replied, without realizing that I had clenched both hands into fists. I relaxed them.

Sam continued watching me, an inscrutable expression on his face. I wondered with a jolt if he’d be able to tell what had happened to me.

Sam, the only person who might know what it was like —

“You all right?” he asked, his tone measured.

Now Jared and Embry were eyeing me curiously too. Fuck. Fuck.

“Yeah,” I said mechanically. “Never better. Now are we gonna keep standing around my kitchen or are we gonna murder that leech?”

“I vote for leech-murdering,” quipped Jared.

“Seconded,” said Embry.

Sam didn’t push it. Instead, he held the door open for us. “Then let’s get going.”

One after another, we filed out after him.

“See you out there, Paul,” said Embry, smacking my shoulder.

“Congrats on your first shift as one of Bella’s bodyguards,” winked Jared.

He and Embry loped into the darkened woods behind my house while Sam went down the path that led back to the rest of the reservation, sparing me one last, unreadable look over his shoulder before taking off at a jog.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath as soon as all three of them were well out of earshot.

I had gotten away with it for now, but only barely. Even if Sam hadn’t just looked at me like I was see-through, it would only be a matter of time before they all figured it out. How was I supposed to keep a secret this fucking huge when, as a wolf, my entire pack would have unfettered access to my brain and see that I had imprinted on the last woman in the world they would ever have expected?

I had hated her. Blamed her for Jacob’s suffering, for all those nights that he had craved her company and been denied it by the ghost of the creature that had destroyed her. It was because of her, because of her tryst with a parasite that had wanted to drink her out of existence, that we were now forced to protect her from the same kind of monster he had been. She was a burden. A liability.

And nobody would ever understand that in the blink of an eye, my entire world had fallen away until only she remained, cold and sad and forlorn. Pale and beautiful, like the dawn by the sea.

Leech-lover. Jacob’s girl. The only thing that mattered.

Chapter Text

Sinkin’ in your teeth,
actin’ like you’re sweet, car crash /
Follow me around,
hold me ‘til I drown, whiplash /
Suckin’ on my thumb,
you get what you want, bad drive /
Your hands on my thigh /
It’s barely on my mind

“Barely On My Mind”

-The Regrettes

Right. Left. Jump those roots. I can smell the leech. Don’t get tired. Dirt between my paws. Left again. Breathe.

Whoa, Paul, don’t wear yourself out. (we don’t need a play-by-play)

Ignored.

Right. Right. Clear the ravine. Push forward, land’s steep. Breathe.

Oh, he’s serious serious. What’s the motivation? Upset you didn’t get a handle on the black-haired leech first? Wanna win a solo vamp kill? (that gash on your arm not good enough for you?)

IGNORED.

Too close to the road, hear cars coming up. The hunters will be on us soon. Move. Breathe.

It seemed that as long as I was narrating whatever was happening in the present moment, I couldn’t actively think of anything else. Left right up down heaven was hell and earth was definitely not a girl. It had been a slapdash idea at best, but I wasn’t in any position to be too terribly intellectual about my stratagems. If it worked, it worked. Of course, that didn’t mean it was any easier on me; I was fighting her down like she was climbing her way out of my throat. I could feel her in the air, attuned to wherever she was as though I were the needle in a compass. Pointing at my true north.

I corrected my paws as the errant thought made me veer ever so slightly off my patrol course to try and run me in her direction. I snarled. I didn’t want to go north. Shitty-ass compass.

Maybe he just wants to get Bella out of the rez as soon as possible. (hope she doesn’t leave don’t think jake can take it)

You kidding? Jake would sooner chew off Paul’s left foot than let her go. (get the popcorn ready)

The whole mind-reading business had its perks, but I definitely wouldn’t have put it high up on the list of things I appreciated about turning into a giant dog. Everyone a performer, everyone a spectator. Even as Jared and Embry poked and prodded at the cage of my thoughts, they argued lightly over weak stomachs and forest brawls and who really won what in some bet, and once Sam and Jacob came to take the reins, we would hear them too, hear of dark dreams and stalking predators and worried, withdrawn glances. As wolves, we were the same, but different; one, but all. We thought and felt and moved simultaneously, a many-limbed entity whose breadth stretched as far as we cared to test it. Sometimes I didn’t even know where I ended and they began, because everything was shared: pain and happiness and desire and regret laid bare for the whole to experience. Nothing secret. Nothing sacred.

I couldn’t let them know.

Focusing on myself is better than listening to you two idiots ramble on all night. (can’t get distracted won’t let you in) Run faster. Duck under the branches. Left. Right. The leech’s scent is drifting.

Yeesh. Take a break, why don’t you. (giving me a headache)

Hope he can. Not sure I can handle another six hours of it. ‘M tired, should have eaten more at dinner… (hungry all the time ALL the time do we even have any food left)

We’ve only been running for TWO hours!? What the hell! (told sam eight hours was way too long what’s the leech even gonna do when there are five of us and only one of her)

Yeah, well, suck it up. Boss’ orders. Gotta protect the leech-lover. (leech-lover leech-lover my — JACOB’S GIRL CUT IT OUT)

I’d let that one slip. I bared my teeth at the mistake, forcing my mind shut again like a steel trap.

Wow, okay, you really don’t like her. (I guess it is kinda gross that she made out with a bloodsucker but isn’t that what they do? lure people?)

And she has a name, man. (bells this bells that)

Don’t care. (don’t say her name) She shouldn’t be hanging around here.

Well, she makes Jake happy so maybe you should chill. (happy happy doesn’t need anybody else)

Happy’s kind of an understatement. (kid’s practically skipping)

Couldn’t care less how happy he is. Shut up. (always got a fucking arm around her — DON’T)

Skepticism. Not mine.

You saying you PREFER brooding angsty Jacob? (gotta stay away she’s too good for me wish I could call maybe I should go to her house maybe sam’ll kill me maybe I’d let him on and ON) He’ll be thrilled.

I’m SAYING I prefer not to talk about Jacob Black and whatever fuzzy shit he’s been feeling about some skinny little leech-lover. (leech-lover leech-lover my — ENOUGH)

Concern. Definitely not mine.

Let him have it, Paul. You saw how scared he got after I up and left to join “Sam’s cult.” Then it got even worse when he had to stop seeing her too. Now that she knows, it’s gotta be a weight off. (not alone no more aching no more stealing away to a window in forks)

Probably gonna spend every free second he’s got with her and forget all about the brotherhood, but hey. Least she’s pretty. (and he has someone anything’s better than what happened with sam)

Better than what happened with Sam.

I felt myself growl.

Right. Right. Left. River’s up ahead. The leech has stopped trying to get through. Back later. Keep running.

Testy. (ooh hit a nerve)

Careful, he might bite. (seriously jared he might bite)

Look, we get it. You hate Bella ‘cause Jake’s crazy about her even if she was slumming it with the vamps (just left her there crying like a cat they didn’t want anymore) —

I don’t hate her. (can’t hate her — STOP IT)

Well, you’re mad because Jake puts her first all the time, anyway. But if Sam’s good, you gotta be, too. Bella’s one of us now, and she’s pretty cool, you know? (it wasn’t the scrap metal that kept quil coming back)

Once you get past all the bloodsucker stuff. (think they sleep in coffins?)

Even with all that. We’re not saying you have to be friends with her, dude. You just have to play nice. (don’t hurt her too important we can’t let it happen again)

Like he could ever do that. (never gonna let her be one of us)

Wanna bet? How’s another fifteen bucks sound? (maybe he can be good)

We could always make it more interesting. Isn’t Paul out of clothes now? If he joined the pool and did you a solid, Em, he could use the money to buy a decent pair of pants. (prove us wrong then paul show us you can stand bella swan)

I didn’t answer either of them. Instead, I continued not thinking about her.

Left. Right. Run faster. Keep pushing. The bloodsucker’ll be back. I can keep going. Run as far as I can. Breathe.

When I finally dragged myself into bed and collapsed on top of the covers, I wondered vaguely if my legs had fallen off and I just hadn’t noticed. Exhaustion couldn’t even begin to describe the weight that had settled in my bones, and even now that I lay still in the quiet of my room, the sting of the redhead’s reek lingered in my nose and fueled the beginnings of a migraine.

So this is what it was, really and truly, to be a wolf.

The only vampire we had ever actually killed was the one in the meadow, ignorant to our hunt, caught unawares as he stood hypnotized by the irresistible transience of a human soul. The settling of the good doctor’s coven may have been the impetus for our transformations seventy years ago, but, bound by our treaty, they had never been a threat. They held up their end by haunting school halls and hospitals, playing at a facsimile of life and spiriting away the mountain lions and deer of the Olympic Peninsula when the thirst came. No, they had never been a threat. Except, perhaps, to the girl who was now widow to their apostate son in all but name.

I groaned.

Guess not even an eight-hour patrol during which I’d concentrated solely on every little fucking twitch of my tendons could drive her out of my system.

God. What was she doing now? Had she woken? Had she watched in the night for yellow eyes in the trees outside her house? Did she know who I was, what I looked like, how badly I wanted to see her?

It was like half of me had gone missing. Everywhere I turned, even when my eyes were pressed tight to shut everything out, I was just reminded of how very not-there she was. It felt as though I had risen from a nightmare, one where someone I knew had died, and I couldn’t rest until I had seen them in the flesh and confirmed for myself that they were still here.

The sun had begun to creep in through my threadbare curtains. It was Sunday, and she would be spending most of her time at the Blacks’ again. Jake wouldn’t be there for a while yet; he had just taken over the run. I could skip sleep. Stop by the house. Pretend that Sam had asked me to check on her. Just be within an arm’s reach, even if we couldn’t touch…

Even if we… if we…

I gave my head a violent shake and shoved my head under my pillow.

“No,” I said aloud. “I am not going to see her. You can’t fucking tell me what to do.”

But when I drifted into a fitful sleep, crawling with images of white skin and dark brown eyes, I knew I would lose. I had only to wait for the end to come.

Fucking imprinting.

Chapter Text

No sleep /
Four hundred miles away you control me /
I wonder what you’re doin
when I’m in the bathroom /
Relivin’ the past,
are you dyin’ in shame
or you’re chokin’ a laugh?

“Barely On My Mind”

-The Regrettes

BANG BANG BANG.

I pretended that I hadn’t heard. My eyes felt raw; if I had slept, something had withheld from me the sweet release of it, forcing upon me the punishment of wandering through a mist that sang like a siren: “What about Charlie? I don’t want to lead Victoria anywhere else. You’ll be careful, right?,” a chorus that rang in my ears until they bled. It was all a stark reminder that restlessness had brought me to nothing, and that my scourge still followed me even outside of dreams.

Never mind that cold, harsh reality was pounding on the walls of the house I shared with no one. Never mind that a pale-faced curse hovered over me like a specter, awaiting my confession. What really occupied my thoughts, through the hot pulse that throbbed in my neck and wrists and ankles, was the disquieting realization that I, despite having spent eight straight hours the previous night running circles around the Pacific Northwest, could feel neither hunger nor thirst.

If I did, deep down, it was just a twinge, fleeting and trivial, plagues of the body that couldn’t hope to compete with the ache of needing her. That was all kinds of fucked up on its own, even if I had been a perfectly normal teenager with a perfectly normal life and a crush the size of Jupiter on a girl from out of town.

But I wasn’t a perfectly normal teenager with a perfectly normal life. I did not have a crush the size of Jupiter on a girl from out of town. I was a twisted husk of whatever boy I used to be, beset by some trance from which there would be no waking. And what made the uncaring emptiness in my stomach and throat particularly worrisome was the fact that in light of the supernatural, our pack’s appetites had grown to insatiability, a human offering to the belly of the beast. No amount of food or drink had ever seemed enough for it.

And now it was starving itself for her.

BANG BANG BANG!

A rude awakening, The Breakfast of the Insubordinate served up on a shining silver platter, my cue for the pretending to end: the big bad wolf ready to huff, and puff, and blow the house down.

“Fuck off,” I yelled, my voice coming out muffled against my pillow, still more than loud enough for my unwelcome visitor.

“Oh, sick! You’re awake,” came Jared’s voice from the front porch. I heard him open the door, cross my boundaries, and stroll right into the living room as if he owned the place, and I listened as he padded through to the kitchen — just outside where I lay seething. “Still not a fan of locks, huh?”

“What’s locking the front door gonna do, Cameron?” I shouted irritably, still in the exact same position I had been in when I awoke: face-down and pissed off. “If she really wanted to, the redhead could rip the damn roof off.”

I didn’t need wolf senses to catch the telltale sounds of my refrigerator being raided.

“I dunno, leaving it unlocked’s just an open invitation to people like me to eat whatever you’ve got,” called Jared amidst the clink of condiment jars and meager provisions. “New rule: you can’t be mad at me for stealing your food if you can’t even be assed to hide it.”

“Either way, fuck off.”

Some more rustling as he gorged himself on what precious little I had. “Can’t, won’t, not even sorry. You’ve overslept enough as it is.”

Fuck. “What time is it?”

“A quarter to eleven, man, rise and shine or Sam’s gonna rev up that week-long lecture.”

It had been five hours, but it felt like none at all.

BANG. BANG. BANG. Right on my bedroom door now.

"All right,” said Jared, “I know you don’t have many left, but put some shorts on ‘cause I’m coming in and I’d really rather not see Private Ryan.”

The knob turned, and I yanked up my too-short blankets so that they covered all but my legs, which dangled diagonally off the edge of the bed. I refused to look at him.

“Will you look at that,” said Jared brightly through a mouthful of whatever the hell it was he had filched from my pantry. “You’ve got sweatpants!”

“Fuck. Off.”

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. “And tell Sam what, Mr. Broken Record, that you needed your beauty sleep? Not gonna fly.”

“I’m coming, all right?” I retorted. “Just get off my back.”

“Aaaaand that’s what she said.”

With lightning reflexes, I chucked my pillow at him with a speed that should have momentarily impaired his vision — but just like yesterday’s can opener, the object was expertly dodged.

“The free food is so not worth being your alarm clock,” said Jared languidly.

I sat up to glare at him. Jared was always trying to goad me on, worse even than Jacob’s incessant virtue-signaling, and it was a miracle we even got along at all. But whether I liked it or not, he was unfortunately the only member of the pack who got me. Even before the phasings, I was the problem child, the moody dickhead with a big mouth, the one they all talked about when I wasn’t around. I was the one they watched when tensions ran high. Who could ever be friends with someone like that?

But Sam, for his part, wasn’t anyone’s friend either; he was older, harder to read… almost frighteningly calm. As leader, he showed no weakness, and we could never see further into his head than what he allowed. He wore his responsibilities like a cloak, keeping a comfortable distance from the rest of us so that he could shield from our eyes the vulnerable man who wore his skin.

Embry was far too sweet, always worried about someone or other, always the first to put himself between two roiling storms. He’d relaxed somewhat since Jacob joined, but I’d always thought he wasn’t built for this life, with his shy, dimpled smiles and furrowed brow. Empathy wasn’t made to contend with the hunt. It was something we couldn’t afford when faced with the enemy.

Jacob was the worst of them, and I’m sure he felt the same about me. I could never stand the way he resisted this as though he were the only one who was suffering, as though he were the only one among us who had lost himself to the fangs. I hated his easy laugh. I hated his unerring love for the girl. And more than anything, I hated that we now had that last thing in common.

That left Jared. He was second in command, Sam’s little henchman, and that part made him harder to bear; give a guy a taste of power and he could really run with it if you let him. But he had a bit of my bite and a bit of Sam’s patience, and so was the only person who could stomach me. Now he stood propped up against my doorframe with his long hair loose around his smug face, an aggravation who wore obscure band shirts and khaki cargo shorts like a drill sergeant’s uniform.

“Up and at ‘em or I’m gonna clear out your fridge,” he chirped.

I whipped myself out of bed then, throwing on a plain gray tee from my headboard. I made sure to give Jared the dirtiest possible look before shouldering past him into the kitchen.

“Welp, that’s my job done,” he said, looking satisfied as he followed after me to ransack a cupboard. He peered thoughtfully into its barren shelves. “Now what else’ve you got?”

“Your mom,” I snapped as I took a glass from the dishrack.

“Real nice, jackass. Anyway, you’ve still got like half a bag of tortilla chips in here,” said Jared. I filled my glass with water at the sink. “Don’t think you’ve got any dip, but since you dodge pretty good, I’ll leave you a handful.”

The glass continued to fill.

“Have it,” I said tersely.

He shook some of the chips into his open mouth. “What, the handful?”

“The bag, dipshit. Just eat it.”

“I’d legitimately take you up on that, but this is all you’ve got left,” crunched Jared. “I didn’t come here to starve you; I’m not that desperate.”

I watched the water spill over and spiral down the drain.

“I’m not hungry.”

Jared cracked up at that. “And I get a straight As. Quit playing, last week you cleared through two roast chickens so fast that my dad had to ask me if you were fixing to be a student athlete.” He punched me playfully in the arm. “I didn’t actually eat all your stuff, you’ve still got a bunch of eggs and some old bread. Enough for a few good sandwiches. This Sam is gonna understand, so just eat fast.”

I shut off the faucet, still staring sightlessly into the overflowing glass. I set it down.

“I’m not hungry,” I said again.

Jared swallowed his chips and fell silent.

“Like, seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously."

The mood shifted at once.

“Shit,” he said. He was genuinely nervous. The appetite had become almost synonymous with our lot in life, and Jared knew from the tone of my voice that this was no act of rebellion. This was a sickness. “Should we tell Sam? Maybe you’re coming down with something? Or you’re just tired of all this junk, I’ll go check if we still have some leftovers from —”

I gave a noncommittal jerk of the head. Sam would sniff it out. He had been through this before.

I had to hide this too.

“No,” I said. “Don’t. It’s fine, probably just indigestion. The leech stink gave me a migraine, is all. Really gets in the way of everything else.”

Jared winced as he recalled the scent. “Must be bad then.”

I shrugged. “I’ll… It’ll work itself out. You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll take some Pepto and come right up when it’s kicked in. Don’t tell Sam, though; I don’t want him thinking that a bit of vamp stench is all it takes to knock me down.”

“Sure...” Jared turned to go, then looked back at me with a strange expression. “Hey…,” he said, sounding uncomfortable, “I meant it. If there’s anything you need, healthy food or whatever, my parents don’t pry.”

A sharp pang of loss cut through me.

“I know,” I said, nodding. “Thanks.”

Jared continued to stare, his forehead creased with doubt, so I mustered a grimace and waved him off, watching him retreat from my house and hoping that my face had revealed the countenance of someone who wasn’t a liar.

I braced myself against the kitchen counter, feeling my empty insides stir from all of the nothing I had given it. The glass sat at the bottom of the sink, forgotten. Fucking imprinting. Fucking imprinting. It had only been a day and already my excuses were getting weaker. I didn’t have much more time to decide. Would it have been better after all to just give it up and tell Sam? To divulge my most private humiliation to the only other one of us who knew its agony? He alone knew what it was to be torn from the earth. He alone knew what it was to never again know peace.

I paced around the dining table, my thoughts running wild as a tornado began to wreak havoc in my body. How would I tell him? What would he say? Would Sam provide instruction, or issue a warning? Would he deem me unstable, did he have the right? Would the Council step in before he had any chance to? Would he make me tell Jacob? How would he take it, the profession that a brother had come to steal his life away? Would he understand, would he blame me? Would he listen to the girl, if she spoke of me?

The blood drained from my face. And the girl. Would it matter that the tide had washed up at her feet if she shrank back from the lapping waves? Would she have to set the rotting of another heart, even as she attempted to tape her own back together?

I stopped pacing, but the cyclone raged on. Did any of this even matter, in the end? Had Sam set an example too chilling to forget?

Would I be kept from her too, never to see those brown eyes again?

I ghosted to the screen door, staring out into the green. I wanted to be rid of it. Of the voices, the aching, the lies, all the lies. This whole fucking mess. I wanted the girl to be free of my love. I wanted us both to have a choice. A fucking chance, at least, if that was all I was permitted.

And then, as though the answer had been at the door all along, my chest filled with a sudden comprehension: it was not Sam, not Jacob, not the girl to whom I should have run. It was not they who held the knowledge.

It was that someone, far away.

My heartbeat quickened. Maybe I was on to something. Had anyone ever asked her? Had anyone but the Council come calling to see if any of it was still reflected in the whites of her eyes? Had she made her own decisions, or had she been ordered to do what everyone else thought best?

I knew her name, knew it enough to bring the smarting of guilt up through the pads of my feet. The name that loomed over us like a soft wind.

Emily Young.

Chapter Text

Know I shouldn’t need it but I want affection /
Know I shouldn’t want it but I need attention /
Know I shouldn’t say it but I had to mention /
It makes me wanna die every time I have to /
Picture your face /
I wanna touch you but you’re too far away

“Touching Yourself”

-The Japanese House

I had never met Emily Young.

I had never as a child seen the Clearwaters play host to this cousin in the dreary summers that deigned to pass through the woods of Washington State, too engrossed by my own life to care much for the comings and goings of other people. I knew her better as an island at sea. But Sam knew her as a memory worn smooth by constant remembrance, a murmur stolen from passing conversation. She was from the Makah Reservation, a little further up north, and had driven down one day to visit. Then she had run into Sam.

Sam Uley, who knew belonging.

Belonging was another thing I had never met; it was more of a concept to me, less concrete even than shifting shapes and the howling dark. I had felt it through my brothers, their minds swathed in the wraithlike warmth of mothers in gardens and friends on the sand, almost solid enough to believe.

But belonging was just another word I had heard often enough to regurgitate its definition. When you belonged, it seemed that you twisted around each other like vines, each tendril climbing up and over and around. When you belonged, I learned that you woke tangled in the mornings with a rightness in your limbs, braiding breakfast into parting into folding laundry into laughing over burnt pots of stew. From the outside, it had seemed a nice way to live. A dream you hoped could fall into your pocket like a star.

Sam Uley had belonged to Leah Clearwater when Emily Young first met him. Sam had fit into Leah like eyelids closing at dusk, like the enveloping of breath in white fog when snow fell. I had avoided them like death. Even in passing, their closeness was unbearable. Suffocating.

And it was fucked up, wasn’t it, how quickly a closeness could become a canyon?

My head throbbed painfully as I made my way through the dappled woods in a stupor. Emily Young… How could I reach her? I wasn’t exactly at liberty to ask the Clearwaters; whenever they looked at me, all they saw was the same thing everybody else did: bad news. As far as I could tell, the only one of them who halfway knew me was their father, Harry, a kind man whose kind eyes oversaw our pack from his seat on the Council. But even Harry Clearwater’s kind eyes clouded over with doubt when they saw me, scrutinizing Paul Lahote as a spade turns up dirt. He would not have sent me to his niece for any reason, knowing what he knew. And if by some miracle I did manage to get in touch with her, would she even have any answers to give? Would she see Sam in the spread of my shoulders and the cut of my voice and turn me away?

 When I came upon a small clearing I recognized only dimly, I looked up. The sky was a dull gray, heralding the coming of rain, and a gentle drizzle was already beginning to mist my feverish body. I wished it would be enough to wash me clean.

Since the day I imprinted, everything familiar now felt horrible and alien. My very thoughts and body had become strangers to me, consumed by a fire I hadn’t kindled, one that took over every emotion and instinct until I could no longer tell the difference between the Paul that was, and the Paul that the imprinting had turned me into. Why did I even care about Sam or where he belonged? Why did I give a shit about Leah, or Emily, or the sad leech-lover who left Jacob drowning? Even the forest had deserted me, the paths I had so frequently walked disappearing as I tried desperately to traverse them.

I stripped the clothes from my clammy skin and stuffed the balled-up shirt into my sweats, tying the whole thing to my right thigh in a well-practiced movement. My sneakers I laced to my left thigh. I had wasted enough time thinking about everyone’s misery. I would have to lock the girl away from my pack’s prying thoughts again today, and throw in Emily Young and Leah Clearwater for good measure, the lost love and pain of three anguished women mingling and festering with my own.

…need to hedge her in closer, by the mountains. (trap that leech in somehow)

I was flying, tracking my packmates’ scents through the forest. Even with the rain falling in earnest, I could still make out two separate trails: one smelling faintly of wood and metal, the other like packed lunches and cheap cologne. I followed the latter. Time to give them another insufferable play-by-play.

Paul Lahote, reporting for duty. (just left the clearing i’m on jared and embry’s trail rain’s coming down hard)

Relief washed over the group from a single source.

You made it, man. (should’ve kept my hands out of your damn chips sorry)

Hey, Paul! (we’re just up ahead rain sucks huh)

Yeah, yeah, hold your applause. (passed third beach sea’s like steel should be on you soon)

Look who finally decided to get off his ass. (about damn time don’t wanna keep bella waiting any longer)

Of course Jacob would mention that wretched name the first fucking chance he got.

(talk about that leech-lover one more time and i’ll scalp you) Whatever.

I know you couldn’t care less about protecting her, but the least you can do is show up when you’re supposed to. (for crying out loud she’s scared out of her mind for us and charlie it’s not like she’s at daycare)

What else is new, oh besotted one? I’ve read the script: she’s in mortal peril, you’re in love with her, and I’m deeply sorry. (visibility’s low rain in my eyes hope it won’t turn torrential)

Enough.

For the rest of us, jumbled thoughts came out like messages scrawled in a hasty hand, crossing and uncrossing as four separate people wrote and rewrote and fought over pages that glistened with smudged, still-wet ink. But Sam’s thoughts were resonant, substantial, tugging at our attention like the clear ringing of a bell on a hilltop.

He started it. (gonna keep picking on me with the boss man watching?)

Sorry, Sam. (one more snide comment and i’m coming for you don’t try me)

Cut him some slack, Jake, for real. (bickering’s getting real old guys)

I tensed.

It’s cool, Jared, just leave it —

Yeah? “Cut him some slack?” What for? (don’t get in my way jared i could take you too)

I mean, he was out of it. WAY out of it —

Jared —

— sick as hell. (couldn’t even keep down water it was bad)

Tangled sheets and empty cabinets. A lone glass sitting at the bottom of my sink. The unnatural pink of medicine in a bottle.

I knew Jared was going to disappoint me. I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly.

JARED.

We all felt him quail.

Oh. Shit. Sorry. (not even water man there was definitely something wrong)

(dammit now this is making me look bad) And how was I supposed to know he was sick? It’s not like I meant to be an asshole, Paul, but you can’t exactly blame me for —

What’s the matter? Paul isn’t eating?

(well jared you’ve fucked me so let’s just get this over with) Since it’s all out in the open now, I’ve got mad indigestion, everybody. Apparently, concentrated vampire stench does this to me. Go figure. Be glad I found the strength to get off my ass at all.

Urgh, that is TMI. Let’s make this a quick eight hours, yeah? (running on indigestion bleargh sounds awful)

We can work something out with the shifts until Paul is better. He’s no use to us ill.

(calling all the king’s horses and all the king’s men for nothing) Never mind that, catch me up. What’s going on?

Jared was just telling Sam that the Victoria girl’s keeping the mountains on one side. We were thinking maybe we could corner her. (pepto sloshing around inside you i’d have sat it out)

(i’m fucking fine closing the gap now) And what does Sam think?

Unfortunately, it won’t work. I hate to admit it, but she’ll have us beat if she goes for a steep enough incline. Put her up against a vertical rockface and we’ll have no choice but to wait down below.

Harder to follow her scent that way, too. Probably best to keep her where we have the advantage. (running too long talking strat taking forever gotta see her face)

(her her her her — shut up shut up shut UP) Bet the ocean’s another no-go. We’re good on land but we can’t outswim a thing like that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a gray wolf flecked with black fur, way off in the thicket to my left. Embry whined faintly, acknowledging my presence.

(found embry we’re running level) So what’s the plan? Stay the course?

For now. Keep her away from the mountains and ocean, if you can. Keep the high ground. Find a ravine.

Okay. Now you two should go get some rest, and tell Bella we said hi. (i’ll make sure to keep an eye on jared and paul for you sam)

Sure, sure. I’ll be at her place for the next half-hour. After that, you can find me passed out at home. (wonder if she’s cold wonder if i can hold her wonder if i’ll dream of it —)

All images of lit windows and pale skin abruptly vanished. Praise fucking be.

Paul.

My heart skipped a violent beat.

(keep away from mountains and ocean keep the high ground find a ravine keep away from mountains and ocean keep the high ground find a ravine) I promise I won’t pick any more fights, if that’s what you’re worried about.

No, it’s not. Check in at the Swans’, when you get the chance. Make sure Jacob doesn’t stay too long. Kid needs his sleep.

Fuck me.

(keep away from mountains and ocean keep the high ground find a ravine check in at the swans’ no NO) I don’t know, your Alpha-ness, wouldn’t he be less likely to maul Jared or Embry?

I know how it is with you and Jacob, but Jared and Embry have already had to cover for you today. If you still feel sick by the end of your shift, you can take a few extra hours off tomorrow. For now, I need you to do this.

Surrounded by lush greenery, all I saw was red. Jared caught on.

Wasn’t my idea. Honest. (tried to change his mind like you couldn’t even keep down water i mean that’s bad bad)

Just do a drive-by. It’ll be over before you know it. (paul third-wheeling jake and bella is nightmare fuel)

Lit windows and pale skin. “Wonder if she’s cold wonder if I can hold her wonder if I’ll dream of it.” And I wasn’t even allowed to say no.

Fuck. ME.

The Swans’, Paul. Got that?

(lit windows and pale skin wonder if she’s cold wonder if I can hold her wonder if i’ll dream of it) Fine, Sam. FINE. I’ll do it once. But make me chaperone them again and I swear —

Duly noted.

I had been there once before. Back in September, when Police Chief Swan had ordered a search and rescue for his missing daughter. I didn’t need to ask for directions. I didn’t need to remember what the house looked like, or how to find it on a map. It would take a lifetime for me to forget where we had first found her, the teenage girl that had been left in the fucking woods to die, curled up on the moss-covered ground like a wounded animal. Abandoned by the dead thing that had claimed to love her.

Night had fallen, and it was quiet. The house looked exactly the same, just like the day I had watched Sam carry her up to it, placing her limp body in the waiting arms of her despairing father: a police cruiser parked in the driveway, the front window on the second floor slightly ajar. The window Jacob Black dreamed about.

A soft orange glow emanated from it, hinting at the life pulsing within, and I stood in the treeline in my shirt and sweats, damp from rain. I had told Jared and Embry that I would drop by the Swans’ before heading home, but I couldn’t risk letting them into my head. Carrying out this duty alone was my only solace from its cruelty. My private mourning.

So she slept with a lamp on. What an odd thing to learn about this doleful siren. What use were glowing lights against the monsters that hunted her? That protected her? A flame in the dark would never be enough to keep the beasts away. But with vestiges of the day’s weather cascading down my back as I stared up into the fathomless shell that cradled her, I wished I could keep the beasts away instead. Even if she never knew. I would do it for her for the rest of my life.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, won’t you please let down your fucking hair because I’m desperate to have a look at you?

This was misery. How could I crave someone like this, think of the steady beating of her heart, when hardly a day ago I had never even seen her except through someone else’s memories?

When the window opened even wider, my heart leapt into my throat. Fuck. Okay. She was there. I was going to see her. Long hair, big brown eyes, a lonely mouth. Slender fingers playing with her food. Just a glimpse. That could keep me going another couple of days. Revolting. I was revolting. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, won’t you please, please, please let down your goddamn fucking hair so I can pretend for a moment that this could possibly end with the both of us happy?

But it wasn’t the girl who poked her head out. A dark figure emerged onto the windowsill and jumped lithely down onto the grass.

It was Jacob.

Noble, pure, devoted Jacob, who had put her back together and made her into a person again.

I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up the façade. I had been lucky so far, timing my phasings such that it allowed him only a scant few minutes to peer into my world. But that tiny sliver of good fortune couldn’t possibly last. One of these days, I was bound to slip, think of her window unprompted one millisecond too long, and that would be that. My throat ripped out before I could make clear that it was the wolf that was poisoning me with this pernicious obsession.

I thought of Jacob holding her in the night, keeping her whole and whispering his love, fervent and unrequited, into her wintry skin until she fell asleep.

I saw him look up at the window too. Saw the tenderness on his face.

I thought of how the regurgitated definition of belonging suited him much better.

It was more than I could bear.

I was flying again, leaving her — and him — far, far behind me.

I had to find Emily Young.