Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jacob POV

School on the rez always let out earlier than Forks, which meant I was stuck at home, waiting. Bella and I had plans after school, and I was counting down the minutes like a total idiot. 

Between Bella, patrols, and school, it felt like I was constantly pulled in three directions. Billy and Sam were on my case about staying in class; they both thought it mattered. And yeah, I gave them crap about it, but they weren't wrong. School was the last normal thing I had left. I wasn't about to quit, no matter how complicated life got.

To keep my hands busy, I started carving again. This time, it was a little wooden truck, meant to resemble Bella's. The edges were still rough, but the shape was beginning to take form. It helped a little. Just something solid. Something real.

But it didn't keep my head from going back to her.

It was her first day back at school after the Cullens had returned. Her first day seeing him again was in class, in the hallway. All of them acting like nothing had happened, like they hadn't blown her whole life off the rails and just walked away. 

And I was supposed to just let it happen? Like everything was fine? It aggravated me to no end. But Sam says that technically they didn't break the treaty, so our hands were tied. 

The worst part was that I couldn't even phase, no matter how badly I wanted to burn off all my nervous energy. If I did, Sam would feel it and probably send me straight out on patrol. I'd lose the whole afternoon with her. So I stayed human. Restless. Strung tight. 

Instead, I kept carving, my hands moving on autopilot while my head drifted back to her room; those late-night stretches over the past few days when everything finally felt calm. Once Charlie was out cold, I'd climb through her window and we'd just hang out. Talk about random stuff, trade dumb stories, or sometimes just lie there, not saying much at all. And when she'd fall asleep curled up against me, like that was exactly where she belonged, I'd stay as long as I could, just holding her. Letting myself believe, for a little while, that none of the other crap mattered.

Every little thing reminded me of her; the way she laughed when I said something dumb, or how she'd tuck her hair behind her ear when she was trying not to smile. I could still feel the weight of her leaning against me, the way she'd breathe slower when she was about to fall asleep, like she trusted me completely. That meant everything.

And the best part was, none of it felt forced. It was just us being... us. Not because of anything supernatural, not because either of us had to, but because Bella wanted to be there. With me. And that was more than enough.

I ran my thumb along the edge of the little truck I was carving and smiled without meaning to. Bells was gonna roll her eyes when she saw it, I could already hear the fake-serious "Jacob Black, are you making fun of my truck?" voice she used when she was trying to sound tough. She was always so cute when she did that, trying to play it cool but barely holding back a smile.

The phone rang, loud and sudden, yanking me straight out of the daydream. My hand jerked, the knife slipping in my grip and nicking the wood. I muttered a curse under my breath and set it down, heart already thudding for a different reason.

Billy reached over and grabbed the receiver without moving much from his spot by the couch. "Yeah?" he said, casual at first. Then a pause. "Yeah, he's here. Hang on," he held the phone out to me.

I took it from his hand, the cord stretching a little as I brought it to my ear. "Yeah?"

A girl who was definitely not Bella spoke, "Um… hi. Is this Jacob Black?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, already tense. "Who's this?"

"It's Angela. Angela Weber. I go to school with Bella."

I straightened up fast, every nerve in my body lighting up. Angela. Bella's friend. I remembered the name, she was one of the few friends she trusted. "Okay…" I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though my pulse was spiking.

"I got your number from Ben Cheney," she rushed on. "I know this is probably weird, we've never met, but I didn't know who else to call."

I shifted my weight, grip tightening around the phone. "What's going on?"

"It's Bella," she said. "Something's really off."

The world tilted. I stared at the floor like it could give me answers, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"She came to school today, but she wasn't… herself," Angela went on, her voice quieter now. "Not upset or anything, just kind of blank. She barely talked to anyone except the Cullens. Not even me. And we've gotten close."

My free hand curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I'd told myself she'd be fine. That she'd be okay at school, surrounded by normal stuff: teachers, hallways, friends. I'd convinced myself she needed space, and I let her walk straight back into their world like that was safer than mine.

"She was with them the whole day," Angela said. "Every class. Edward especially. He was always there. I tried to talk to her during lunch, but he just… stared me down like he didn't need to say anything. Like he was daring me to try."

A cold rage ignited in my chest, spreading through my veins like wildfire. "You think he's keeping her from talking?" I asked, jaw clenched tight, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

Angela hesitated. "I don't know," she said quietly. "It just felt like she couldn't speak. Like she wasn't allowed to. Maybe I'm wrong, but it freaked me out, Jacob. I didn't want to go to her dad and blow things up, but I know you're close with her. She talks about you. A lot. So… I figured maybe you'd know what to do."

My whole body was buzzing, like I was one wrong word away from snapping in half. I wanted to punch something. Shift. Run, anything to burn off the heat building under my skin. But Bella didn't need that. She needed me to stay calm. To think.

"You did the right thing," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even though it came out tight and strained.

"Would you be able to come here?" she asked, her voice quick and shaky now. "I want to talk to her to her face, but I don't think I can do it alone. I just... I'm not sure, something's off. The Cullens have always freaked me out a little, and now that they're back…" She hesitated, then added, "Even Ben's freaked out. He won't say it straight, but I can tell. I think if anyone is going to get through to her, it's you."

"I'm coming," I said, already halfway to the door. "I'll be there when school gets out."

"Thank you, Jacob. Her voice stuck in my head even after the line went dead.

I didn't move right away. Didn't breathe. Just stood there, pulse hammering, the silence closing in like it might crush me. The phone was still in my hand, and I slowly lowered it limply to my side.

"What's wrong?" Billy said, tense.

"It's Bella," I finally said, my voice rough. "Her friend Angela called. She went to the effort of getting our number just to call. Something's wrong."

I started pacing. "FUCK!" I shouted, slamming the phone down so hard it rattled the table. Billy flinched, but I barely noticed. The sound just got swallowed by the roar in my ears.

"Jake, slow down," Billy said, voice firm but not sharp. "Talk to me. What happened?"

I was already tearing through the house, rifling for my keys, heart pounding like it was trying to crack through my ribs. "Her friend says she's acting weird. She's been stuck with the Cullens all day, and it's like... she's not even herself." I stopped just long enough to drag in a breath. "Bella told me once she thought that emotion-leech was messing with her. That's why she ran to Italy. What if he's doing it again?"

My throat tightened. "I let her go back. I thought school was safe. I thought she'd be okay."

Billy didn't say anything right away. Just sat there, still as stone,

I finally spotted my keys, grabbed them, and made for the door, my body on autopilot, wound tight enough to snap.

"Jacob!" Billy's voice landed like a weight; low, steady, with just enough edge to make me stop. "You need to talk to Sam before you do anything stupid. You show up at that school angry, and it's not going to end well. For anyone."

I didn't wait for an answer. Just tore out the door, heart slamming in my chest. The screen banged shut behind me.

I grabbed the Rabbit's handle and yanked it open, dropped into the seat, trying to breathe through the shaking. My whole body was on edge, too close to phasing.

I took a long, deep breath. Focus Jacob. Sitting here freaking out is not going to help.

I jammed the keys into the ignition and peeled out of the driveway, tires spitting gravel as I tore toward Forks.

***

An hour later, I saw the doors of Forks High open, and a girl with dark brown hair and glasses, who looked vaguely familiar, approached my car. I guess even if she hadn't met me before, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Jacob!" Her voice rang out thin, but steady, across the lot.

That's when I saw him. Ben Cheney, a few steps behind her, hands jammed in his hoodie pockets like he wished he could disappear into them.

It took me a second, but then it clicked. Of course, I knew him, not from school or anything recent, but from a long time ago. Rebecca and Rachel used to play with his sister; they were close friends, always hanging around each other's houses. Ben was the tag-along little brother. We used to mess around in the yard sometimes when we were kids. I'd forgotten all about that.

"Hey," I grunted out to her, and sent a quick familiar nod to Ben. My jaw clenched so tightly that it ached as I watched the flow of students pour out of the building. The heat under my skin flared. My wolf paced just beneath the surface.

"I'm so glad you came. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do; all I know is that something's not right. She was so mad at Edward and the Cullens, and now she just goes back to them like nothing happened? And she won't talk to us. It just doesn't make sense." She rambled on in her panic, wringing her hands, her eyes darting nervously towards the school entrance. But the sound of my blood rushing in my ears drowned out whatever else she was going to say because suddenly I felt the pull towards Bella, it was there, still alive. I breathed out in relief. She was close.

The smell hit me first, that sickeningly sweet scent that made my skin crawl and my wolf rage. Even from across the parking lot, I could pick out their stench cutting through the damp Forks air like a blade. But underneath it all was something else, something that made my heart clench with worry: Bella's cherry scent, but wrong somehow. But it was wrong. Muted. Off.

I pushed my way through the clumping mass of kids, past Angela and Ben, their chatter fading into a dull roar as I locked onto her. Each beat of my heart drummed her name with an urgency that pulsed through me. Bella. Bella. Bella.

Then I saw them. My blood turned to ice. Edward, Alice, and Bella, moving as one. Like a pack, but not mine. Bella in the middle, pale and distant, almost see-through. She looked... empty. Hollow. As if someone had scooped out everything that made her who she was and left a shell.

"Bella!" Angela called out, her voice sharp with desperation, cutting through the general din of the schoolyard. The sound cut through whatever haze had settled over Bella, and for just a second, I saw a flicker of confusion cross her face, a fleeting break in the blankness. But then Edward's hand tightened on hers, a possessive squeeze. That blank, serene expression slid back into place like a mask, erasing the momentary crack. My hands clenched into fists so tight I could feel my nails digging crescents into my palms.

Edward whispered in her ear, too low for human ears, but clear as day to me: "Don't worry." The way he said it, the way his fingers gripped hers, like she was his property, made my skin burn.

"Bella, I was so worried!" Angela rushed forward, reaching for her. But Alice moved like liquid, sliding between them with that predatory grace all vampires had. "You've been... different all day. I tried to talk to you, but you seemed like you weren't even listening." Angela's voice cracked in fear, but she continued, "I saw you with Edward, and it just didn't seem right. So I called Jacob." She gulped, "I'm sorry if I overstepped, but…" She trailed off. "I'm sorry. I was just so worried."

"It's okay," Bella started to say, her voice distant and dreamy, like she was talking through cotton. 

But Alice cut her off, "It is NOT okay, Angela." The threat was subtle but unmistakable.  These bloodsuckers thought they could intimidate an innocent girl who was just worried about her friend?

Edward stepped in, voice smooth but edged with steel. "Alice, relax. It's fine. Angela is a great friend to Bella." He smiled at Angela, a practiced and perfect smile. "But Angela, everything is just fine."

Bella nodded along, stiff, echoing him. "I'm fine." She tried to pull her hand from Edward's, a tiny twitch, but his grip tightened. I felt a growl rise in my chest. My muscles tensed, every instinct screaming at me to move.

I stepped forward, vibrating with barely-controlled fury, boots squelching on the wet pavement. "What the hell is going on, Bella?" I searched her eyes for any sign of my best friend, the girl I loved.

For a breath, when I got close enough that my scent might reach her, something flickered in her gaze; recognition, maybe even relief. But it vanished so fast I almost doubted I'd seen it. Edward had yanked her back before I could reach her. Damn leech.

"I don't k—" Bella started, but Edward cut her off, smooth as a razor. "Bella doesn't want to see you anymore, Jacob." His golden eyes narrowed, dangerous. Every instinct screamed at me to phase, right here, right now, to show him what I thought of his possessive bullshit. I tried to shake off the instinct. 

Angela reached for Bella again, desperate, her hand trembling. But they had her surrounded, trapped, and she didn't even seem to realize it, standing still, almost statuesque.

"You know I'd make a scene if I could, but not in front of all these people," I hissed at Edward, my voice low and dangerous, barely audible above the drumming rain. Every fiber of my being wanted to grab Bella and get her away from them, but I couldn't risk exposing what I was. Not here, not with witnesses.

"No need. Bella is just fine. You can go home now, dog." Alice's sweet voice dripped with condescension, a thin, cruel smile playing on her lips, and I felt a burn of rage at that slur. But what really got to me was how Bella flinched slightly, it was a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor, she was still there somehow, offended by what the leech called me. Heat bloomed in my chest. She wasn't completely lost yet.

I locked eyes with Bella, and for a second, I thought maybe she'd see me. Not just look at me, but see me. The way she had just a few days ago, when she sat in Emily's home and told a room full of wolves that she wasn't going back. Not to him. Not to that life.

  "Bella, is this what you want?" My voice came out raw with desperation and the weight of everything she'd told me.

The question hung between us, heavy and unanswered, and for a heartbeat, I thought I saw the real her looking back, confused, maybe even scared. But then that hollow voice answered, flat and lifeless, "Yes," and it felt like a knife twisting in my gut. That single word confirmed every terrible suspicion I'd had.

"She doesn't want this, Cullen. Hand her over. Now." The words came out as a growl, my body tensing, ready to leap.

Edward pushed Bella behind him, shielding her, and I watched her face go blank again, like someone had flipped a switch.

"You may think you have some sort of strange wolfy claim to her, but Bella belongs with us. She always has. We will protect her. You are dismissed."

I flinched at his words. Did he know about the imprint? Of course he fucking did, he was in my head. He smirked at me, a cold, knowing amusement in his golden eyes.

Angela tried again, face pleading, but Alice blocked her. The movement was fast, predatory, and looked effortless. Instinct took over, and I moved, pulling Angela behind me, out of reach. For a split second, I caught Bella's eyes, and I swear I saw something spark. Recognition. Maybe even gratitude that I was protecting her friend.

Rage built inside me, pressure rising, but with Bella and Angela so close, I kept it together. Barely. Then, finally, the rumble of Sam's truck cut through the rain, headlights slashing across the lot. His footsteps crunched on the gravel as he strode over, steady as always, and the standoff shifted.

"Jacob." Sam's voice sliced through the tension, calm, commanding, the kind of alpha tone that made my wolf want to submit. "Step back." Instantly, the air shifted, his authority rolling off him like thunder.

"Sam, they've got her," I said through gritted teeth, my voice barely human. "They're doing something to her. She's not herself." Edward cocked his head, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. Was he really that clueless, or just a better actor than I thought? I hoped he was reading my mind, seeing what he'd turned her into.

Edward's eyes flickered, but he kept his face carefully blank.

Sam's gaze swept over everything: Bella's empty stare, the Cullens' tight circle, Angela shaking at my side. His jaw clenched. When he spoke, his voice was controlled, measured. "Jacob. We can't cause a scene. Not here."

  "The hell with that!" I snarled, stepping forward, the rain that had just started to fall plastering my hair to my forehead. "Look at her! That's not Bella. And we're just supposed to let them take her?"

Bella just stood there, eyes fixed on my face, but so neutral I could tell something wasn't registering for her. It killed me that Sam didn't seem more urgent. I glared at him, frustration churning in my gut.

"Jacob." Sam's voice dropped, thrumming with that alpha command, a signal to rein it in. His hand landed, heavy, on my shoulder. "Not here. Not now." 

Edward's eyes darted between Sam and me, more calculating than aggressive. "I hope you can understand that Bella has made her choice. Let's focus on what's best for her."

Sam's nostrils flared, hands curling into fists at his sides. The tension was palpable, a live wire between the two groups, but he was thinking of the bigger picture, always considering the consequences. Usually, I'd trust him, but right now it burned.

"Choices," he repeated, voice deadly quiet, a dangerous edge beneath the calm. "Right." He looked at Bella, his gaze sweeping over her blank face, most likely cataloging every detail that was wrong while weighing it against what he knew about her track record with the leeches.

Alice stepped forward, her smile bright and brittle. "Exactly. Bella knows where she belongs." That sugar-sweet voice, but underneath, she was a predator.

"Does she?" Sam asked, eyes locked on Bella, asking her directly.

Bella didn't move; she was eerily calm considering the heated confrontation. It wasn't like her at all. After a long, cold moment, she nodded, the movement so subtle.

"We're done here," Edward announced, his voice firm, already guiding Bella toward her truck, his hand a steady presence on her back.

A strangled noise tore from Angela's throat, a desperate, broken sound. "Bella, please."

At that, Bella's head twitched, just a fraction, but her gaze slid past Angela, past me, to the forest edging the lot. Empty. Gone.

The truck door slammed. It felt final and brutal to my heart when Bella's scent vanished. Alice slipped into her own car, fluid and silent. Edward paused, staring at me through the rain on the windshield. Something flashed in his eyes, guilt, or maybe just twisted triumph. Then the engine roared and the truck disappeared into the mist.

Silence crashed over us. Rain hissed on the blacktop. Angela hugged herself, shaking, Ben's arm around her. Sam's hand stayed on my neck; it was steady and grounding, the only thing keeping me from flying apart.

"That wasn't normal, was it?" Angela whispered, voice raw. Her eyes darted between Sam and me, wide, desperate. "Bella's never acted like that. She was getting better."

I couldn't answer. My throat was tight. I just shook my head, eyes burning.

Sam's hand squeezed once on my shoulder, a subtle pressure. He flicked a glance at Ben and Angela, weighing how much truth we could risk. "We're dealing with… let's call it a group that exerts a lot of pressure on the people around them. Sometimes that pressure changes how a person behaves."

Ben frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean, like, a cult?"

Angela flinched at the word, shooting Sam a look I almost missed. Fear?

Sam caught it too, but just said, "I guess you could say that."

I rolled my eyes, a surge of bitter sarcasm. Sure, we could go with the cult excuse. Why the fuck not. Everything was a mess anyway. Let's add cult rumors to the mix.

I tried to clear my throat, but my voice still came out raw. "That wasn't Bella." It hurt to say it. "Something's off. I don't know what they did, but… she's not herself. The Bella I know wouldn't have stood there silently while we all fought." 

Angela nodded, arms hugging herself tightly. "It felt like she was sedated or something." Ben pulled her close. "I tried to talk to her all day between classes, before lunch, I even waited outside the girls' bathroom, but… they were always there. Edward and Alice, as if they knew where I'd be before I got there." She looked at me, pleading. "Every time I tried, one of them got between us."

My jaw ached from clenching. I focused on breathing, on not losing it. I forced myself to breathe through the heat rising up my neck, a burning flush of anger. 

Angela squared her shoulders. "They were making sure she didn't talk to anyone. Like they're hiding something."

Smart girl.

You did the right thing calling Jacob," Sam said, voice low but sure, still anchoring me. "You noticed what others didn't. And you're close enough to keep watching."

Angela nodded, a little fire in her eyes now. "I want to help. I just… don't know what to do."

"Keep doing what you're doing," Sam said. "Watch her. Who's around? When she's alone. Anything that stands out." He handed her his phone. "We'll need eyes on the inside."

"Good," she said, new resolve in her voice. "Because I'm not backing off."

Bella was lucky to have Angela as a friend. She could've kept her head down. But she didn't. She stepped up. That mattered.

Ben spoke up,  "If you need backup… I'm here for Bella, too. Whatever you need."

"Thanks," I said, my voice rough. I looked away, blinking hard. "For calling me. For showing up. You did more than most people would."

Angela nodded, gaze soft. "I'll do my best. Get you whatever information I can." She glanced at the empty road, then back at me. "Bella's my friend."

Sam gave her a nod, tipping his head toward the cars. Message received: time to go.

I waved to Angela and Ben, then climbed into the Rabbit, moving like a broken robot. The door shut with a heavy thud. The world went too quiet, just the rain on the roof, my breath ragged.

I gripped the wheel, trying to focus, but all I could see was Bella's empty face.

I slammed my fist into the wheel. Once. Twice. The third time, the plastic cracked.

"Dammit," I choked out. I pressed my forehead to the wheel, the cool plastic grounding me.

She was right there. Right fucking there. And I let her walk away with those leeches.

I'd done everything wrong.

I should've told her about the imprint. Should've just said it straight, that this wasn't some stupid crush she could brush off. That there was something real here. It was real enough that every cell in my body lit up the second I phased and saw her again.

But I didn't.

I kept trying to give her space, trying to let her come to me on her own, trying to be the good guy. Let her choose instead of dumping all this supernatural crap on her and making her feel trapped.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

If we'd accepted the bond before they came back… If I hadn't been so afraid of pushing too hard... maybe the imprint could've protected her. Maybe they wouldn't have gotten in her head like this. Maybe they wouldn't have been able to .

And now? Now I'm on the outside, stuck watching her slip away while the imprint yanks at me like an open wound.

The worst part was that Bella was already grounded from her little trip to Italy, but that wouldn't keep Edward away. If anything, it made things easier for the bloodsucker. Bella was stuck at home, probably begging Charlie to let Edward come over because what else was she gonna do?  And Charlie would cave. He always did when it came to Bella, even when his gut told him something was off. 

But Charlie wasn't stupid; he'd notice something was wrong from the first moment she brought him back to that house. He always knew when something was off with Bella. He always did, even when Bella tried to hide it. He'd seen it before, the way she disappeared inside herself after the Cullens left. She'd told me everything. The screaming, the sleepwalking, the way she moved like a ghost. Would all of that happen again, or would he be more horrified at her blank stares? 

Either way. He'd panic. He'd come to me. He'd ask what was going on. And I'd have to lie. Again.

And the worst part? I knew exactly what was happening. And I still couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

Bella POV

A few weeks had passed, though I couldn't say how many. Everything blurred together: wake, school, Edward, bed, repeat. It was calm. Too calm. Disorienting almost. 

Charlie hovered more than usual. He didn't say much, but I could feel it, his eyes on me when I got up, when I sat too still for too long. I didn't understand what he was waiting for. I thought things had settled. I wasn't crying. I wasn't lost in the woods or shaking in bed. I got up when my alarm went off. I answered when people spoke to me. Everything was quiet now. Easy.

But strange moments crept in, gaps where I'd forget what I was doing mid-task, or sudden tugs in my chest like I'd misplaced something important. These feelings dissolved before I could examine them closely. Edward explained it as part of healing, and I nodded along, unsure what else to say. A peculiar numbness had settled over everything, a cotton-soft veil muffling the edges of my perception.

Today had been no different. Edward dropped me off after school, and now, I would… wait? I shook my head as I unlocked the front door, the familiar click echoing in the sudden silence.

The front door shut behind me, a sound that brought a strange, almost dizzying sense of relief. My backpack slid from my fingers, thudding softly by the coat rack, the weight of the day, and something far heavier, momentarily lifted. Our house, usually a quiet sanctuary, offered a fragile clarity that seemed to shimmer just beyond my grasp.

Since Edward and Alice had returned, my thoughts had swirled in an incessant, almost suffocating haze. Now, in the quiet of my own home, a sliver of unclouded thought pierced through. It was unsettling, this sudden sharpness, like the air after a storm, fresh and biting. I tried to chase it, yet a soft confusion still clung to the edges of my mind, a faint, insistent tremor I couldn't quite identify. I found myself wondering, almost idly, why the familiar, ethereal warmth of their presence left me feeling so profoundly off-kilter. It was a puzzle, one I wasn't at all sure I wanted to solve.

I drifted into the kitchen, my footsteps unnaturally light on the worn linoleum. The familiar space felt unusually cavernous without Charlie's booming presence. He had been unusually present the last few weeks, always hovering, something he hadn't used to do. I supposed my disappearance to Italy had triggered the behavior, and I couldn't help but appreciate it. When it was just the two of us, I felt good, conscious, almost real.

My gaze snagged on a small, folded note, tucked neatly under a banana on the counter, as if left there by a hurried hand. Jacob's familiar, slightly messy scrawl jumped out:

Bells,

I don't know what they're doing to you, but something's wrong. I can feel it.

Edward's always around, and Sam won't let me get near him. I'm losing my mind here, Bells.

Please just call me.

– Jake

A faint ache tugged at my chest, guilt, maybe, or something quieter. Like remembering a name you'd almost forgotten. I felt a strange disconnect from the urgency of his words, as if they belonged to someone else's life. I knew Edward was around a lot, but I wasn't sure why that kept Jacob away. A flicker of memory popped into my mind, Jacob's laugh by the cliffs flashed behind my eyes, vivid for a split second, and then was gone, like a skipped frame in a broken film, a sharp, almost painful jolt, then nothing. Still, my eyes went to the phone on the wall, and I couldn't make myself move to reach for it.

Before I could question it more, Charlie burst into the house, huffing and puffing, his boots thudding loudly on the floorboards.

"Jesus, Char- Dad. What's wrong?" His sudden burst into the house shocked me so much that I jumped up in fear, my body stiffening in response. The world snapped into perfect focus for half a second, the colors vibrant, the sounds sharp, before the familiar feeling of calm settled over me again, dulling the edges. It was almost like I was medicated.

"Oh…um.." He said, still panting, glanced around the living room and then the kitchen, his eyes darting with a frantic intensity. Realizing Edward wasn't there, he visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping, heading back to firmly shut the front door before returning to the kitchen.

"He's not here, Dad. I wouldn't disrespect you like that." The words tasted like ash, knowing the truth: I disrespected him every single night, when Edward, with his impossibly silent grace, slipped through my window to spend the hours beside me, even if we were just cuddling, well, cuddling as much as you could with a slab of marble.

"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry, I just don't trust him." He paused, looking sheepish. "But, I trust you." The words landed like a stone in water; concentric rings of guilt spreading out beneath my ribs, a dull, familiar throb.

He took off his coat and hung his gun up by the door before heading upstairs to change. In the last few weeks, we had fallen into a regular schedule. I would come from school, and he would usually be here already, starting on dinner. We'd eat dinner together, and then he'd let Edward come over from 7:30 to 9 PM on weekdays to hang out in the living room with us.

***

An hour later, the rich, inviting aroma of Charlie's spaghetti and meatballs wafted through the kitchen, thick and comforting. It smelled wonderful, yet when I tasted the sauce, it was strangely muted, like eating with a head cold, the flavors indistinct. He was getting better and better at meals, and I couldn't help but love the fact that the chore was off my back, although these days I did have trouble finding things to do to pass the time until Edward arrived. It seemed like anticipation of his coming over every night was all I thought about. But again, there was a strange numbness to it that I couldn't understand.

We sat in the dim light of the small kitchen, the soft clinks of our forks a fragile soundtrack to our unspoken tension. It was Charlie who finally shattered the silence, his voice steady yet tinged with an undertow of apprehension.

"So, Bells," he started, the casual tone almost a facade, his fork scraping against his plate. "About your grounding… I think it's time I let you off the hook. I hope you'll use this time to see your friends again." He said, his tone conveying concern, a slight frown on his face.

The sound made me cringe. I hadn't meant to make him worry. I spent the past few months trying to make him worry less, to show him I was getting better. Now that Edward was back and I was better, it seemed like we were going in the opposite direction.

Was I better now that Edward was here, or was I better for another reason? The thought was fleeting, quickly swallowed by my tired mind.

A flicker of hope ignited in my chest, but was quickly snuffed out by the weight of reality. I listened as he named off my friends: Angela, Ben, Jessica. Each name a little slice of nostalgia to my soul. But then came the pause, and with it, the name that made my heart beat faster, a sudden, surprising drum against the numbness.

"And Jacob… he's been asking about you. That kid's been through the wringer. I know you miss him. He's worried sick and so am I. Don't you think it's time you saw him?"

  My gaze fell to the swirling patterns in the tomato sauce, as if it held the answers I couldn't articulate. "I don't know if now's a good time," I said, but I didn't know what I meant by that.

"I mean, I do want to see him," I said, shaking my head, trying to clear it, to shake off the mental haze. My heart kicked once, hard, like it agreed with me, a brief, sharp protest.

"You do?" He said, surprised, his brow furrowing.

"Of course I do," I said in nearly a whisper, unsure why I was keeping my voice down.

"Great! Why don't we invite him over tonight?" 

"Uh yeah, we could..." a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, sharp and insistent.

Charlie groaned and mumbled something that sounded a lot like "Go away" under his breath.

I felt my body moving towards the door without remembering when I stood up, as if the house itself had tilted and I was sliding downhill, pulled by an unseen current.

The cool air rushed in as I opened the door. There he was. 

Edward stood just beyond the porch light, his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his gray peacoat, his hair glinting like a flame caught mid-flicker. The shadows softened the sharp lines of his face, but I could still see the curve of his mouth, the way it lifted in that familiar, patient half-smile. The one that always made me feel seen. Safe.

Or it used to.

For the briefest second, something flickered in the space between us like static before a storm. I blinked, and in that second, I didn't see marble skin or perfect features. I saw Jacob. Warm brown eyes. A lopsided grin. The way his hands moved when he talked, the sun, a vivid, almost painful surge of memory, a breach in the fog.

My heart twisted, a sharp, unwelcome pang.

But then Edward stepped forward, and the scent hit me, crisp, cold, sweet, impossible. The fog rushed in, soft and heady, pulling me back into its familiar embrace. I swayed slightly in place, the sharpness of the last few minutes dulling like a dream upon waking, its details dissolving. 

"Hi," I said, stepping aside so he could enter, my voice flat.

"Hey." His voice was low, velvet-smooth. "How was your day?"

I tried to think of something to say, but the effort to hold onto thoughts felt like clutching steam. "Fine," I offered. "We had spaghetti."

"I could smell it," he said, amusement tugging at his mouth. "Charlie's improving?" He asked, but I didn't answer, the question already fading into the background hum of my thoughts.

We moved to the living room, my body moving on autopilot. In the kitchen, I could still hear Charlie washing dishes, the clang of the pot lids, and the gurgle of the faucet giving us a moment of privacy.

Edward didn't sit. He pulled a narrow envelope from his coat and held it out, casual but expectant, his eyes fixed on mine.

I didn't take it. "What's this?" I asked, already bracing for some unexpected complication.

"Just the full Dartmouth materials. Housing, orientation options."

I stared at it. "I didn't apply."

"I know," he said, as if that made no difference at all, his gaze unwavering. "But I didn't want the application window to close before you had the chance to consider it. You've had a lot on your plate."

"You signed it for me," I said quietly. The words felt strange in my mouth, like I wasn't sure if I was accusing him or not.

He didn't even blink. "Technically, yes."

A low pulse of heat bloomed behind my ribs, an old anger, one I hadn't felt in weeks, trying to ignite. I could feel it rising, brittle and bright, a faint burning under the blanket of numbness.

"And you thought that was okay?" I asked, my voice quiet but cutting, a tremor beneath the calm. "To decide that for me?"

"I didn't decide," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm. "I gave you an option you wouldn't have had otherwise."

I shook my head, a slow, weary movement. "This isn't about Dartmouth." Suddenly, a thought occurred to me with force. "Is this... because of Jacob?"

His jaw twitched. He sat down next to me and grabbed my hand with one of his, while the other pushed a stray hair out of my face.

"I just want what's best for you," he said carefully, his eyes holding mine. "And I don't think staying here, tangled up in all of this, is what's best. You deserve something clean. Something stable."

He leaned in, and his delicious scent hit stronger; it was icy and intoxicating, filling my senses. My breath caught, the fragile fire in my chest flickering low, then fading. My heartbeat slowed without warning, like someone had turned the volume down inside my body, the frantic rhythm softening. The anger I had clung to seconds before slipped from my grasp like sand through water, gone.

"I just…" I searched for the words, but they wouldn't settle. "It would've been nice to be asked."

"I was afraid you'd say no," he said gently. "And I couldn't risk you missing this opportunity. Not when I love you so much."

He reached down and ran a gentle marble finger down my cheek with the softest pressure. I didn't move. I couldn't. My body responded as if I were made of glass, being carefully handled. Fragile. Still.

From the kitchen, I heard the faucet turn off. Footsteps creaked toward the hallway, heavy and familiar.

Edward glanced toward the noise, then back at me.

"Just think about it," he murmured. "That's all I'm asking."

I looked down, and the envelope was already in my hands. I didn't remember taking it.

Charlie appeared in the doorway a moment later, towel over one shoulder. His eyes landed on the envelope in my lap, then on Edward, and something in his expression shifted, barely.

"Evening," he muttered, the word low and wary. He tossed the towel a little harder than usual onto the table and sat down with a weight that wasn't just tired.

"Good evening, Chief," Edward said smoothly.

I headed to the kitchen, confused about how the conversation went the way it did. I was trying to be assertive and then…

Edward followed me into the kitchen, and I could feel the tension in the air like an electric charge. I threw the envelope on the table and then moved around him slowly, putting away dishes that didn't need to be moved. I just needed something to do, something normal.

He laid the forms across the kitchen table in a neat fan, each one glinting under the overhead light, their sharp edges a contrast to the blur of my thoughts. Everything was clean and official, as if my future had already been sealed, decided by someone else.

"Orientation," he said, sliding a tri-fold brochure toward me. "Housing options. Deadlines."

I cleared my throat. "Charlie said I'm officially un-grounded," I said, resting my hand on the back of the chair. 

Edward's pen stilled, hovering over a form. "That's good."

"He wants me to see my friends again." I kept my gaze on the inked lines of my forged name, a strange sense of detachment washing over me. "He mentioned Jacob."

A small pause, almost inaudible, but I felt it, a ripple in the quiet air. "I'm sure he did," Edward said, voice velvet-soft, utterly unconcerned.

"He's worried," I pressed, a faint, desperate hope to break through. "Jacob's… hurting. And he misses me. I miss him too. I want to see him."

"No." The word was soft as a feather but carried the weight of stone, unyielding and absolute. "Not yet." He added unconvincingly. Heat flared up my spine, a brief, hot rush that quickly faded under the striking gaze of Edward's topaz eyes.

Edward's eyes remained gentle, but beneath lay iron, a cool, unyielding resolve. "Bella, you don't understand the danger he poses, not to mention the pack in general. Their tempers…"

"He's not dangerous to me," I snapped, a sudden burst of defiance, a spark of the old Bella. "He kept me breathing when…" My voice broke, memories of cold months and Jacob's steady heartbeat slamming into me like surf, a tidal wave of pain and warmth. For one clear instant, the fog burned away, bright and searing, and I felt the full weight of everything I'd lost, every desolate day without Edward. "When you left."

Edward's expression flickered; guilt, regret, something darker, a brief shadow passing over his perfect features, but he kept his distance, a subtle step back. "The treaty is fragile. And Jacob is… volatile. I can't risk your safety."

"You said you wanted me to have choices." My pulse hammered, a frantic drum against the numbness. "But every time I choose something you don't like, you say no."

He suddenly moved towards me. The anger in my veins quivered, then softened, like molten metal cooling too fast. My shoulders slumped before I could stop them.

"I only want to protect you," he repeated, his voice a low, melodic hum, almost sorrowful. "It would destroy me if anything happened to you."

The electric burn of anger I had been feeling dulled into an ache and then into nothing at all. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

"Fine," I whispered, hating how small the word sounded, how easily it escaped me. "Not tonight."

Edward exhaled, relief washing across his face, a visible relaxation of his tense features. He reached out to brush his fingers against mine, cool and smooth. I let him.

We sat back down at the table, together this time. Charlie had left The Seattle Times folded open to the metro section. The headlines blurred with smudged ink. Edward's gaze fell to the article: 

SERIES OF SEATTLE DEATHS LINKED TO GANG ACTIVITY—POLICE BAFFLED.

A tension tightened the lines of his shoulders, a subtle stiffening. "Newborns," he murmured, his voice low, a grim note.

I traced the bold black letters with my eyes, trying to make sense of them through the haze. "They think it's gangs," I said quietly, the words feeling foreign. "But it's vampires?"

"Too many bodies, too much collateral." He flipped the paper around so I could see the grainy photo of a vandalized alley, the image indistinct. "Newborn strength. No control."

A chill fingered down my spine, a faint shiver. "What do we do?"

"For now, nothing. Carlisle and I are keeping an eye on the situation." He reached out again with his hand, his cool fingers sending a wave of pleasure and calm over me, chasing away the faint unease.

"I've been thinking," I said, not quite sure where the words were coming from. "If I'm going to change... maybe I shouldn't go to Dartmouth."

He tilted his head slightly, the perfect symmetry of his features still.

"I've read about the University of Alaska," I continued, voice small but gathering shape. "They have a campus in Juneau. The rest of the family could go there, and we could be farther out. Remote. Isolated. It seems like... a safer place. For everyone."

He stared at me for a long moment, something flickering behind the gold of his eyes. I couldn't read it.

"You want to go to Alaska?" he asked finally, voice almost flat, devoid of expression.

I nodded. "If I'm going to be dangerous. If I'll be unpredictable." I swallowed, my throat dry. "It makes sense."

His jaw tensed, a faint muscle ticking. "I hadn't planned for Alaska."

"I know," I said quietly, fighting to keep my voice steady, to assert this small act of will. "But, I think it's what I want." The second I said it, I wasn't sure anymore.

He looked down at the forms again. His fingers twitched slightly as he folded one neatly in half, a precise, almost surgical movement. Then, after a beat, he sighed.

"If that's what you prefer," he said, too carefully, the words clipped. "We'll make it work."

Something in my chest loosened. It wasn't exactly relief, but the echo of it. A faint vibration in the emptiness. It was rare to feel like I'd steered something lately, even something small. The thought made me confused. Had I always had such a hard time speaking up for what I wanted?

Edward leaned back in his chair, his voice growing more thoughtful, a hint of something resembling enthusiasm. "We hunted there, years ago. The wildlife is bigger and more dangerous. There's more space to disappear." He gave a faint smile. "Emmett loves it. Lots of bears. Elk. The occasional polar bear."

I stared down at the paper in front of me, tracing the seal of the school with my fingertip.

  "Even giant wolves, sometimes," he added. I looked up with a gasp that seemed to get caught in my throat. It felt like I was choking, a sudden, sharp constriction in my chest, a fleeting break in the fog that let in a cold, painful realization.

He froze, his perfect features locking into place. "I didn't mean—" His face shifted, his mouth tightening, the relaxed expression vanishing. "That wasn't about Jacob."

I breathed in deeply, a shaky, uneven breath, and the feeling in my chest felt like my lungs were on fire, a sharp, burning pain. "It sounded like it was."

"It was a poor choice of words," he said quickly, his voice urgent, attempting to soothe.

His voice softened, returning to its smooth, velvet quality. "We don't have to go to Alaska, you know. We could still go to Dartmouth. Together." He changed the subject so quickly that I barely had time to keep up, my thoughts still scrambling from the sudden shock.

I blinked, startled. "But... I thought you said...about the change. That it was too risky to stay near people."

He hesitated, his fingers still, his gaze intense. "Only if that's the path we take."

"What?" The word was a bare whisper.

Edward met my eyes, his golden irises holding my gaze. "Bella... we don't have to do this. The change. Only if you want it."

The room stilled, utterly silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the refrigerator.

For a moment, my thoughts scattered, fracturing like glass under sudden pressure, tiny shards of clarity. Something cold and familiar tugged at the edges of my awareness, like fog rolling in over the ocean, quiet and relentless, swallowing the sharp edges.

Had I truly wanted to become a vampire? Or was that just what I was supposed to want? The question hung, unanswered, almost forgotten.

My chest tightened with confusion, a dull ache. I couldn't remember what was mine anymore. Edward was watching me carefully, his expression unreadable, a silent observer. "It's your choice," he said.

It didn't feel like it. I nodded anyway, a slow, automatic movement. "Okay." He smiled faintly, satisfied as if we'd come to some peaceful agreement.

He bent over and gave me a small, chaste peck on the cheek.

My mind went into bliss from his touch. My breath slowed. The words I wanted to say drifted to the edges of my mind, dissolving before I could hold onto them.

***

As night settled in, the routine unfolded the way it always did.

Edward said goodbye at the door, his voice careful, polite, measured for Charlie's ears. I watched the headlights fade from the window without really seeing them, then turned off the porch light and went upstairs.

I took my time in the shower. The warm water helped, sometimes, to clear the static. But even then, thoughts came and went like fog on glass, there, then gone. I dried off, dressed in the same worn pajamas, and carried the bundle of my clothes back into my room.

Something slipped free as I crossed the threshold. A small flutter of paper landed near the foot of the bed. It was Jacob's note.

I didn't remember putting it in my pocket, hadn't thought of it in hours, maybe longer. It lay open just enough to catch the light from the hallway. I stood there for a moment, the damp towel in my hand, unsure why my chest felt tight.

A soft click sounded behind me. The window.

By the time I turned, Edward was already inside, silent, composed, like he'd always been there. He reached for my hand, and I let him, moving automatically, the towel forgotten somewhere along the way.

The note stayed where it had fallen. I didn't pick it up.

Chapter Text

Jacob POV

Three brutal weeks since I’d actually talked to Bella, held her, heard her real laugh. Every damn second, he was there, hovering, always acting like some messed-up bloodsucking bodyguard. I’d never felt more useless. I couldn’t reach the one person I needed to protect.

The leech’s grip on her was never-ending; it changed every part of who she was. Even from a distance, I could see in her eyes that she was barely there. Did the reeking leeches care? Of course not, they didn’t know her at all, and frankly, I doubted they cared. As long as she played the perfect human for them, they were just fine to keep playing house. 

But that crap wasn’t okay with me, but unfortunately, there was little I could do at the moment but watch it happen like an impending train crash in slow motion. I was totally powerless to stop it.

Sam had laid down the law: don’t touch the Cullens, don’t break the treaty, don’t interfere. I couldn’t believe he was so willing to accept the lies that came from the Cullens. It made no sense. My patience was running thin, and I was so close to ignoring every order he gave to tear through anything that kept me from her.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t, not without tearing the pack apart.

Still, it didn’t sit right with me, the way Sam responded to this whole mess. Not when he had given me the order three full weeks ago, and not now.

How could Sam think she’d just flip like that? This was the same girl who looked us in the eye and spilled every secret she had about the Cullens just to help us. Did he really think she’d just go back to them?

No. I didn’t buy it; he was acting out of fear. He was scared of provoking the Cullens, worried about the possibility of war. I had those fears, too, but if it were Emily on the line, he wouldn’t have hesitated. That was the problem. He didn’t value Bella’s life the way he valued Emily’s. 

He swore to protect human life from vampires, and right now, she needed protection. 

I had seen the doubt in his thoughts; he knew damn well that something was wrong with Bella, but he would rather shove it under the rug and not deal with it than face it head-on.

Sam’s indifference to the situation disgusted me, and I didn’t try to hold back my thoughts on how I thought he was failing as an alpha. Most of the rest of the pack agreed with me; I could feel it. But nobody said anything. Too afraid to challenge our Alpha.

So, I was completely on my own, patrolling and watching over her by myself. Sam reluctantly allowed Embry to watch her while I slept, but that was mostly because Victoria was still on the loose. So at least I had that. 

Charlie wasn’t much help with keeping Bella safe either.

Not that it was his fault. There wasn’t much he could do to protect without having all the information. I knew he was scared and realized something wasn’t right, and he did what he could in an impossible situation where he had very few options. At least he was keeping the Cullens on a leash, trying his best to make sure they knew they weren’t welcome back with open arms to Forks. It was something at least.

The worst part about watching him try so hard was that I couldn’t tell him what was really going on. I couldn’t give him the information that would make his job protecting Bella easier. Our secret was locked down too tightly. And even if I could tell him—what then? Would that put him in more danger?

Dad said that if things got worse, he would consider bringing Charlie into the fold. I remembered the night just a week ago when Charlie called the house in a panic. With these damn wolf ears, I could hear every single word he said.

“She’s just… not there, Billy. We had such a rhythm going before he came back, and now that idiot is always hovering around. When I told her he wasn’t allowed over, she threatened to leave. I don’t know what’s happening to her, it's a complete 180.”

Billy waited before answering. “Has she said anything about wanting space from them since then?”

Charlie exhaled hard, like he was trying not to break. “No. When I asked, she said everything’s fine. That she’s just tired, she loves him, but I’m watching her fade right in front of me again, and I can’t stop it.” His voice was more emotional than I’d ever heard it.

Another pause. Then Dad’s voice, quieter. “Sometimes, Charlie, things happen that we can’t explain. But you’re right to pay attention.”

Charlie didn’t speak for a long time after that, and I thought they had hung up. When he spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “I’m not gonna lose her again, Billy. I won’t. Not like this.”

“Then keep watching,” Billy told him. “She’s lucky to have you.” He was right. But there was still so much Charlie didn’t know. And when it came down to it, he couldn’t protect her, not from this. That was on me.

It was this truth that made me feel like a failure every day and every night, that I couldn’t rescue her. But Edward had no idea what I was willing to do and how far I’d go to save her. If he slipped up, even once, I’d be there.

Tonight would be no different; I would keep watch to wait for any opening that came along. My feet padded in a slow circle in the soft soil in the woods outside her house. And, like always, he was in there with her, again. 

His disgusting scent smothered everything. Thick and sweet and wrong. Like decay in a bottle. It was on the ground, on the bark of the tree near the house, and it clung to the siding like it was trying to scrub her out and replace her.

I couldn’t smell her anymore. That was the part that killed me.

Angela’s words replayed in my head from earlier today when she called to give me her updates. “She’s a little brighter whenever they step away, and then they come back and it’s gone.”

I shook my head at the thought of what was missing. I remembered the last time Bella really laughed, it was full and unafraid. Her fingers were in mine, her hair tangled by the wind on the cliffs. But that girl was gone. 

Space was all she needed to come back to herself, and space was the one thing he would never give her.

A ripple of cold rage pricked my fur at the thought, and I knew he must be listening to me at this very moment, so I let the memories surface. The sound of her laugh in the garage. The way she leaned against my side when she was tired. Her voice, low and determined as she told the pack she wasn’t going back to them. Her exact words when she told me she didn’t want that life.

Come choke on that, leech.

The forest hushed suddenly, and I knew I was right. He had been listening.

A twig snapped nearby, it was a soft and deliberate sound. Then Edward materialised at the tree line, his skin pale as frost, hands tucked calmly into his coat pockets as if this was all just completely casual.

“If you’re finished broadcasting your grievances,” he said, voice velvet-smooth, “we can discuss them like adults.”

I let the heat rip through me, easily phasing back to my human form. I wanted to talk man-to-man. I didn’t reach for the cut-offs stashed around my ankle. I just let him be uncomfortable.

“You don’t get to act like I’m the problem,” I responded with a snarl.

“I’m not here to argue,” he said, brushing some imaginary lint from his sleeve. “I just need you to stop screaming your obsession at me. It’s disruptive.”

“You think this is about me? ” I took a step forward, fists clenched. “You’ve got her trapped up there like a goddamn porcelain doll, and I’m the one disrupting your peace?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Bella is safe. She’s home. She’s cared for.”

“She’s gone. ” My voice cracked, the words torn straight from my chest. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but the girl in that house? That’s not her. Not fully.”

“She’s recovering,” he said, tone clipped. “The last few months have been difficult. But she’s strong.”

“She was strong,” I corrected. “Before you came back.” His eyes didn’t narrow, but I saw something flicker across his face. There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, which just made me press harder. “She was laughing again. Living and talking to people. She had friends, she had me. And then you showed up, and now she barely looks anyone in the eye anymore.”

He didn’t blink. “Bella prefers the company of people who understand her world.”

I scoffed, “More like people who never let her leave it. She’s not a pet, Cullen.”

His eyes studied my face with annoying patience, measuring me up. “Neither of us owns her. She simply recognises where her future lies.”

“Yeah?” I said. “And how much of that future did you hand her already wrapped and sealed?”

A microscopic lift of his brow. “Bella decides. I… facilitate.”

“Is that what you call controlling every part of her life? Sleeping in her room every night?”

“I call it protecting her.” His voice stayed level, but colder now. “There are threats you can’t even begin to understand.”

“She’s safer with us than with you bloodsuckers,” I growled.  “And I’m not the one breathing down her neck, terrified of what she might say if you gave her five minutes to think for herself.”

That hit. Barely a twitch in his jaw, but I saw it.“I heard you, by the way,” I said, stepping in closer. “The other night when she asked to see me, and you told her no.” He stilled, face unreadable. But I knew I’d nailed it, he knew I was right, and he couldn’t stand it. “She still wants to see me. Still wants to be around me. You know that, don’t you?” I hissed towards him.

“She’s not in a place to make decisions like that right now, you’re dangerous, we both know that”, he said softly, like it was some noble excuse.

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “No, the real reason you don’t want her around me is because the second she’s thinking clearly, she might remember how it felt to be happy without you.”

“You overestimate your influence,” he murmured. “Whatever… bond you imagine, it’s an impulse, an elegant form of imprinting on prey, perhaps, but hardly love. It’ll fade with time.”

“It won’t fade for me.” I leaned in. “You forge her path and call it freedom. That’s not love either.”

His smile went sharp, brittle. “Paved? No. I’ve simply given her… every opportunity. And will continue to do so.”

The imprint pulsed behind my ribs. “Opportunity for what, exactly?”

He hesitated for one beat, then tilted his head, voice mild: “For a future she can share with me. An endless future.”

The word hung there, heavy, wrong. My pulse slammed against my neck. “Endless?” I echoed. “Meaning what, Cullen? Spell it out.”

Silence. He hadn’t meant to say that, that much was obvious.

“Oh no. Don’t backpedal now,” I pressed, stepping into his personal space. “Are you planning to turn her?”

His lips parted, caught between denial and arrogance. “If Bella chooses…”

“So yes. ” I interrupted as heat roared through me and my vision blurred at the edges. “You’re lining her up for your brand of eternity before she can even clear her head.”

His jaw clenched. “She knows what she’s asking.”

“No, she doesn’t!” My voice ripped out of me. “She’s not even in her right mind! She can’t think straight with you drowning her in your scent every damn day!”

“You have no idea what she wants.”

“I do! ” I shouted, my voice breaking open. “I saw her. I heard her. She told me she didn’t want this. She didn’t want you.”

He flinched, just barely. “That was weeks ago.”

“And now?” I stepped closer, shaking. “Now you’ve got her so twisted up she can’t see straight. And you’re going to steal her soul and call it love.”

“She loves me,” he said, the mask slipping, just for a second. “She chose me.”

 “You think that means anything when she can't think for herself?”

His mask slipped. “She’s mine,” he said, low and fractured, a snarl curling under the words.

“She’s not yours,” I shot back, heat burning through my chest. “Not your possession. Not your project.”

He stepped back like I’d struck him. He looked guilty at his words, which in itself was a surprise, “She’s not yours either,” he said coldly. “No matter what that 'imprint' tells you.”

“No,” I agreed. “She’s hers. ”

He looked away first. Not out of defeat, just avoidance. Like if he didn’t look at me, he wouldn’t have to see the truth. The wind cut between us. Somewhere inside the house, she was asleep. Or worse, she was awake and too numb to care.

“If you go through with this,” I said, low and sharp, “I’ll stop you. I don’t give a damn about the treaty. I’ll tear it in half.”

He didn’t answer, but I knew he believed me. 

So I turned and stalked off into the trees, the damp earth cold against my bare feet, pulse thudding in my ears. The forest blurred past me, branches grabbed at my skin as I phased.

My paws hit the cliffs before I even realized where I was going. I was running on pure instinct and letting it drive me through the trees until they opened up, and the wind of the brutal night air cut right through me. Sam was already waiting there, this massive shadow perched on the ridge like some kind of dark monument.

His dark wolf shape stood at the edge of the clearing, its posture calm and way too quiet. Like he hadn’t just heard everything from the past ten minutes exploding in my head. Embry hung back by the trees, and I could feel his worry pressing at the edges of my mind. Paul kept his eyes glued to the ground, silent as death, which was never a good sign with him. The tension between all of us was so thick I could practically choke on it.

 I didn't waste time with small talk.  He's going to change her. The thought hit the pack like a freight train; no warning, just pure impact that sent heat pulsing through every one of us.

Sam's massive head turned slowly, deliberately. You heard him say he'd change her if she wanted it. That's different, Jacob.

Is it? I snarled. You were at the school. You saw what she looked like.

He turned then, slowly. I remember, he said, and I caught the flicker of his memory. Bella standing there like a damn statue, her eyes barely focused.

Then you know. The air between us thickened. The pack link buzzed with everything we weren't saying out loud. 

She was walking. She was talking , Sam said, arguing, like that meant something. She seemed stable.

Calm like a caged animal, I bit out. That wasn't peace, Sam. That was control.

She hasn't asked for help. Sam said nonchalantly, but there was less certainty in his words than there was before.

My fury went nuclear. You know damn well she can't ask when she's like that.

Maybe this is what she wants, Sam pushed back, but his voice sounded hollow, even to him. We can't make decisions for her.

Don't. My growl rumbled through everyone's heads. Don't you dare pretend that any of this makes sense. This is the same Bella who told us the truth when it mattered. You think she just flipped a switch overnight? Bella, the real Bella, would never just roll over and take this.

Paul's thoughts stirred with the impact of my words, a low rumble of agreement he wouldn't voice, and I felt Embry's support solidify into something stronger.

I continued, Angela noticed, too. She said that Bella’s more present when she gets a second away from them. That’s not nothing, Sam.

The quiet that followed felt like it was crushing my chest. I could feel the tension rising between us. Sam was furious that I dared to question him this much, and I felt it when his anger boiled over. 

Jacob, knock it off. Spare me the theatrics. If this girl really mattered, you wouldn’t have hidden the imprint like a coward. Don’t blame us for not wanting to start a war because of a mess you made. She’s made her choice.

His next thought came slower, colder, more deliberate, each word like a hook. You call that love? Hiding the imprint like it’s shameful? You don’t get to act like the noble one when you left her in the dark and hoped she’d come running anyway.

The world spun sideways at his words. For a second, I was right on the edge of losing it. My bones ached with the strain of holding back. The air buzzed with the threat of my fury, and I nearly gave in to it.

Silence and shock pulsed throughout the pack mind for one second, and then it detonated. 

Paul’s thoughts flared first; they were raw and ragged, crackling like lightning through a storm. What the hell, Sam? Even Paul, who had the utmost respect for Sam, was shocked. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard, and honestly, neither could I. 

Embry’s voice broke through the link, soft but gutted: You didn’t have to go there.

 It was a betrayal. A deliberate strike against the very thing we were bound to honor. Sam had disrespected the imprint, my imprint. Again. And he used it to corner me.

For a second, I couldn't breathe. The pain of his accusation tore through me like claws. 

I didn’t hide it out of fear,  I said, voice frayed and raw. I waited because she deserves to make her own choices. Not be cornered by a bond she never asked for.

Sam stood stiff, drenched in shame. But it wasn’t mine, it was his. I saw the flash of memories of Emily and Leah. The choices he made, the patience he hadn’t shown.

And now here I was, holding the very thing he hadn’t: restraint.

Sam stood there with his thoughts half-hidden, trying to exude confidence, but underneath all that alpha control, something old and raw was bleeding.

You think you understand what it’s like, he said, trying to smooth the jagged edge of his thoughts. You’ve never had to lead. You’ve never had to be responsible for more than yourself. The words hung heavy, but they didn’t land like he wanted them to. He tried to steer back on course, and his next thoughts came sharper, more clipped. We do not take action without cause. We do not risk the safety of the tribe for feelings. For guesses.

But it was too late for redirection. The pack had gone quiet; it was the kind of silence that came with judgment. Paul's thoughts burned with disgust that he couldn’t hold back, and Embry's disappointment cut deeper than any anger could have.

We didn’t say anything, and Sam just stood there, stiff as a board, while a storm built up under his skin. Go home, Jacob. Get some rest. We’re done talking about Bella Swan tonight.

Another punch in the gut, using her full name like that. It felt cold and dismissive. As if she were nobody, it was just a problem he didn't want to deal with.

Striding up to him, I stared him down, every part of me burning with the defiance I knew I was about to speak. Don’t make me go to the council again, I said, my voice low, measured. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise. I’ll do it if I have to.

After a few seconds, he didn't answer, so I turned and let the forest swallow me. Trees flashed past me, the wind was flowing through my fur, and wet ground pounded under my paws. But it wasn't really an escape. There was no running from this.

Every day she was trapped, so was I. The bond between us ached constantly, and even without the imprint, I'd still be going crazy missing my best friend and the girl I'd loved way before any of this werewolf crap started.

My pain echoed into the packmind. Embry flinched like he couldn’t stand the way I hurt. He didn’t know Bella the way I did, but he knew me. And he hated this. Hated seeing me gutted and helpless. His presence pulsed with quiet solidarity, not words, just this aching wish to fix what he couldn’t.

Paul’s feelings were sharper; he couldn’t make sense of Sam’s choices, and the weight of what Sam said, what he didn’t do, kept crashing through him like aftershocks. He didn’t agree with me out loud. He didn’t have to. 

And Sam was closed off, almost too still. But that silence wasn’t strength, it was fear. Beneath the surface, his shame still smoldered, heavy and dark. He could lock down the words, but he couldn’t erase what we all felt when he struck below the belt. He knew he had messed up. 

The ripple effect of his words had hit us all, and I recognized it for what it was. A crack in the system. A crack in our bonds.

Bella POV

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, stabbing behind my eyes. My head already ached, nerves drawn tight as wire. Without conscious thought, my body simply obeyed the familiar impulse, guiding me to my usual seat by the window. The classroom, however, felt subtly wrong today, as if the very walls had shifted, leaving my limbs feeling dislodged within my own skin.

Mr. Toller’s voice, a grating scrape against my already frayed nerves, announced the civil liberties project assignments. “Partner assignments for the civil liberties project are on the board. You’ll be working in pairs through next week.” 

My gaze caught on the chalky scrawl. Names blurred, whispers rippling through the room. I couldn’t seem to focus on any of it. 

 “Swan and Weber.” A strange, almost painful flutter stirred in my chest. Angela. 

Before I could even turn, Alice’s perfectly composed voice, a low, sweet melody, cut through the air from the front row. “Excuse me, Mr. Toller?” she began, her hands clasped with the delicate grace of a ballerina. “I think there may be a mistake. Bella and I usually work together. Could we be reassigned?” 

His refusal was flat, “No changes today, Ms. Cullen. We're working with randomized pairs,” was clipped and absolute, silencing any further protest. Alice’s lashes lowered, a beat too long in her hesitation, as she settled back into her seat, still angled slightly towards me, watching.

Angela slid into the seat beside me with an almost desperate swiftness, as if she feared intervention. “Okay, first of all, thank God,” she whispered, her voice fierce despite its low volume. “Second, what the hell, Bella?” 

My fingers hovered at the edge of the desk, tingling. They barely felt like mine. “What?”

“You’ve been MIA for three weeks,” she continued, her words tumbling out. “No texts. No lunch. Not even a wave. I thought something was seriously wrong. I still do.”

I stared at the faint smudge of ink on her wrist, at the way her eyes seemed to search mine, as if attempting to extract some hidden truth. “I’m fine,” I uttered, the words catching in my throat. The syllables echoed back at me in a tone that felt too high, like someone else had spoken them.

Angela didn’t even blink. “Are you? Because I’ve never seen you like this. And Jacob. We’ve been talking, Bella. He’s been asking about you, asking if you’re okay. Do you have any idea how worried he is?” 

Jacob. His name crashed into me, sharp and sudden. My fingers tingled, arms numb, like I’d been holding still too long. Static prickled across my skin.

My stomach churned, tightening with a peculiar anticipation, like a rollercoaster stalled at its peak. “I… I didn’t know that,” I managed, the words slurred. I rubbed my wrist, an unconscious gesture.

Angela leaned back, her eyes narrowing, still scrutinizing me. “What’s going on with you?” she pressed, softer now but no less insistent.

My mouth opened, but no sound emerged. My mind skipped, like a scratched CD. I felt like I was always two steps behind, like the conversation had started in the middle, and I couldn’t catch up.

My eyes dropped to the chipped varnish of the desk, tracing its imperfections as if they held the answers. “I’ve just been…” My voice trailed off, lost in the silence that followed a silence not of peace, but of buzzing tension under my skin, like my nerves were trying to scream through molasses.

Angela didn’t wait for me to answer; she seemed prepared to continue the conversation. “You know I haven’t seen you smile once, Bella.” Her voice cracked slightly on my name. “Not once since… since they came back.” 

The words hit me like a shard of ice in my lungs.

“You and Jacob were…” she began, then stopped, glancing around the room before leaning in again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You told me he helped you after Edward left. You told me what he meant to you.”

I blinked, but my eyes burned as if it were the first time in hours. The edges of her face blurred, dissolving like steam. “I…” The word felt dry and meaningless in my mouth. “We haven’t talked in a while.”

Angela pulled back, her gaze distant, as if she were looking at a stranger occupying my form. “That’s not just ‘a while,’” she said gently. “He hasn’t seen you in weeks. No call. No explanation. You disappeared, and now you’re back with them like nothing happened.” Her eyes, wide and searching, locked onto mine. “Is this what you want?” she whispered. “Because the Bella who talked to me a few weeks ago wouldn’t treat Jacob like this. Wouldn’t treat me like this.” Her voice broke on the last line. There was something genuinely wrong and upsetting to Angela, and I felt powerless to understand what it was. Confusion was all I could feel.

My mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. They floated just beyond reach, like leaves caught in a current. My fingers curled around the edge of the table. The pressure should’ve hurt, but all I registered was dullness, no pain, just the distant sense that pressure was being applied.

“I’m…” I started, then trailed off. I didn’t know how to end the sentence. 

Angela’s expression was a raw display of hurt, overlaid with something deeper, a flicker of fear, not of me, but for me. The realization chafed, a fresh wound. I hated the way it made me feel fractured, as though I had drifted so far from my own self that the very shore of my identity was lost from view. “I didn’t mean to…” I tried again, my voice softer, imbued with a fragile apology. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. Or you.”

Her brows drew together, a subtle furrow of concern, but she offered no immediate response. A long beat of silence stretched between us before she spoke again, her voice barely a whisper. “You haven’t even asked how he’s doing.”

It was true; I hadn’t. And I couldn’t fathom why. The thought should have been innate; Jacob, his easy smile, the enveloping warmth of his presence, the echoes of his laugh in the garage, the solid, unwavering comfort he used to provide. I could almost feel it now, a memory with teeth, pressing just enough to sting. “I…” My voice wavered, thin and uncertain. “I think I forgot.”

Angela blinked, a look of profound confusion etched across her face. “You forgot Jacob?” That simple question, the sheer disbelief in her tone, snapped something small and sharp inside me. My gaze dropped, my heart thudding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, loud in my ears.

“I didn’t forget him,” I whispered, the words barely audible. “I just… It’s like I’m not thinking clearly lately. I try, and then it’s gone. The thoughts don’t… stay.” They slipped away like mist, evaporating the second I tried to hold them. Angela remained transfixed, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief. But just then Mr. Toller called us to attention, and we had to get to work.

Eventually, the shrill sound of the bell cut through the air, signaling the end of class, yet neither of us stirred.

With all the energy I could muster, I turned to her, “I’m trying,” I reiterated, my voice even quieter now, tinged with a desperate plea. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Even saying the words out loud felt like trying to speak underwater. My lips moved, but I barely felt them shape the syllables.

She swallowed hard, a visible effort, as if weighing the impossible choice of whether or not to believe me. Then, softly, she reiterated her earlier sentiment. “You don’t seem like you.” I closed my eyes. The world was too loud: the rustle of backpacks, scrape of chairs, slap of sneakers. Each sound pressed against my skull, too much, too sharp.

Then I felt it, that unmistakable shift. That cool, almost imperceptible presence at the edge of the classroom, a subtle change in the very quality of the air. It moved like a shadow brushing across my skin, without pressure, but leaving a faint chill behind.

When I opened my eyes, Alice was standing beside me.

A smile played on her lips, but it was a carefully constructed mask that failed to reach the depths of her eyes. “Ready for lunch, Bella?” she asked brightly, like we hadn’t just sat apart for the last hour. Like she hadn’t tried to rearrange the day so I’d be back under her wing.

Beside me, Angela stiffened, a silent, almost visceral reaction. My body responded on autopilot; my movements felt foreign and mechanical. The act of standing felt delayed, as though gravity had loosened and tightened around me all at once.

As I passed by Angela’s desk, her fingers reached out, touching my arm for a mere second. Her touch was warm, a solid anchor against the encroaching chill. A flare of something, pain? Grief? Burst in my chest, then vanished.

“Please,” she murmured, her voice laced with an urgent plea. “Just talk to him.”

The warmth from her touch lingered a second too long, as if my skin remembered it more than my brain could. I nodded, a silent acknowledgment, but the word “yes” remained unsaid because I didn’t know if I could.

And Alice was already turning, already leading the way out of the room with that effortless grace, as if nothing untoward had happened. As if there was nothing wrong at all.

A tightness in my chest pulled at me, and I tried to understand where it came from, but it was just so damn hard to keep focused. I never had that problem before. Angela was right. What was going on with me? How could I treat Jacob this way? The question fluttered through my mind like a moth and then disappeared behind the static again.

“Earth to Bella,” Alice said beside me, throwing her arm around my waist. “Don’t you think that would be fun?” she asked, but I hadn’t been listening to a word she said.

“Uh, what?” I replied dully.

“I was just saying, wouldn’t it be fun to have a little sleepover this weekend while Edward is away?”

Actually, it didn't, but I didn’t want to say that to Alice and hurt her feelings. 

“Okay,” is all I said.

“Excellent! I’ll have Esme prepare some food for you, and we can paint each other's nails and watch movies.” She sounded so excited, but I just nodded along. I could see people looking at us. I think I passed Jessica glaring, but I couldn’t be sure. It’s like everything was blurring past me. Their faces were more color than detail; they were flesh-toned brushstrokes in a hallway I barely recognized anymore.

I shook my head again, desperate to clear the fog just a bit. It clung behind my eyes, behind my ribs, a dull weight that made each breath feel shallow.

Suddenly, I was outside by the Volvo, and cool lips were pressing to my temple. A wave of vertigo hit me.

How did we get outside so fast?

Edward opened the car door for me, and I slid in. Within seconds, he was in the driver's seat, and we were off to wherever we were going. 

The seat beneath me felt too smooth, almost frictionless. The hum of the engine vibrated faintly against my spine, but I couldn’t register whether it was comforting or oppressive. The windows blurred the trees as they passed, but it felt like I was watching someone else’s memory.

“So, what do you want to do on your first day of freedom?” he asked casually, and I flinched.

Freedom? Was that what this was? The word rang oddly in my ears, hollow and echoing, as if spoken down a long hallway. If I could do anything, what would it be?

“You know where I want to go,” I said with newly found confidence.

“Don’t start with that again, Bella.” His tone was flat, but final, like a door shutting in my face.

“Excuse me?” I said in shock. Why was he being so dismissive? The sharpness of my own voice startled me.

“I don’t want to fight,” was all he answered.

His hand was still on the steering wheel, relaxed, calm. Mine were clenched in my lap again, but I couldn’t feel the ridges of my nails against my palm.

“Well, neither do I, but you asked me a question and I gave an answer.”

“A bad one.”

“Not to me.” 

“Look, let’s just go hang out at my house. Emmett has been asking to see you,” he said with more casualness. “Please?”

The word, a whispered incantation, worked like a subtle spell, unraveling the tight knot of my resistance. It drifted over me like smoke, curling around logic, softening the edges of my thoughts. Suddenly, the inherent logic of it became undeniably clear. Why wouldn’t we see his family? We had been trapped at my house for weeks, and, of course, I wanted to see Carlisle and Esme, and, without question, Emmett.

“Okay,” I mumbled, but realized that we were already on the road to his house anyway.

The Cullen house used to take my breath away. I remembered the first time Edward brought me here, how I was amazed at the towering glass walls that made the forest look as if it had grown into the house, and how every room seemed to be touched by light, silence, and elegance. It felt like stepping into a cathedral made of air, green, and possibility. 

Back then, I was enchanted. Nervous, but awestruck. Desperately in love.

Now, as I stepped through the doorway, all I felt was... cold. Well, it wasn’t cold, not really. More like the air itself was empty. The hush pressed in, heavy as a blanket, muffling every sound. It was so quiet that it made my ears ring. The light filtering through the windows didn’t feel golden and soft; it felt sharp, almost sterile. Like a spotlight on a stage I hadn’t meant to walk onto.

Edward’s hand brushed gently against my back, and I flinched, an involuntary spasm I couldn’t control. He noticed, of course. He always did. Yet, he said nothing, merely offering that familiar, gentle smile, the one that was supposed to soothe me. It didn’t. His touch left a ghost-trail on my spine, as if my body couldn’t decide whether it was welcome or foreign.

I took another step forward, feeling my stomach clench with an unfamiliar dread. The house itself remained unchanged, truly. The same sleek, modern furniture. The same impeccably polished floors. The same carefully curated art adorned the walls. But something fundamental within me had shifted. The awe was gone. The warmth, too, had vanished. In its place, an unnamed sensation festered. Not dread, but disturbingly close. Like the slow ache that comes before a fever breaks.

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment the fear began. Perhaps it had always lurked, a shadow beneath the blinding rush of adoration. But now, it was undeniably present, a dull ache at the base of my spine. 

Something was wrong. Something was profoundly wrong, and no matter how many times I whispered to myself that I was merely tired, simply overwhelmed, I couldn’t silence the hollow echo in my chest; there was an insidious whisper: You don’t belong here anymore.

Alice greeted me first, practically bouncing down the stairs with a grin too polished, even though she had just seen me at school. “There you are,” she said, looping an arm around mine before I could fully enter. “Come on! Emmett’s been going stir-crazy waiting for you.”

Inside the vast living room, Emmett was sprawled across the plush couch, a crooked, welcoming grin on his face. “Bella,” he boomed, as if no time had passed, as if nothing had changed. “Heard you’re free again. About time.”

Carlisle appeared next, radiating his usual calm demeanor, his smile gentle, yet his eyes lingered on my face for a fraction too long, assessing, rather than simply greeting. “Bella,” he said warmly, his voice a balm. “It’s good to see you. You look… well.”

Esme joined him, her expression soft, her voice a soothing murmur. “We’ve missed having you around. It’s not the same without you.”I nodded again, but an unsettling sense of disequilibrium settled over me. It felt like walking through a dream where all the faces were familiar, yet none of them quite made sense anymore. Even their voices echoed strangely, as though the room had swallowed half their meaning.

Alice continued to chirp excitedly about movies and snacks, while Emmett playfully tossed a pillow onto the couch, as if the gesture could somehow inject a casual ease into the meticulously arranged space. 

My own movements felt stiff as I lowered myself beside him. Even the couch felt wrong beneath me, too soft, like I might sink too far and never come back up.

Edward sat on my other side. “Do you want to watch something?” he asked softly, the remote control already in his hand. “We could finish the documentary from last week.”

Had we watched a documentary? I didn’t remember that.

“I… sure, we can do that.” The words slipped out. I wasn’t sure what I wanted anyway.

 Emmett groaned dramatically. “Yuck, documentaries suck.”

The room dimmed as the enormous screen illuminated, casting a faint glow. I folded my hands in my lap, trying to suppress the involuntary flinch when Edward’s arm curled lightly around my shoulders, his touch familiar yet distantly unsettling, like an echo. 

The film played quietly and unobtrusively. I didn’t absorb a second of it. Instead, I kept hearing Angela’s voice in my head, sharp and disbelieving: “You forgot Jacob?”

It echoed in my chest, sharp and disbelieving. I hadn’t forgotten him, had I?

A flash in my mind surprised me, and I flinched. Jacob’s laughter in the garage, the warm weight of his hoodie wrapped around my shoulders, the way he used to lean back on his heels, grinning like we shared some private joke.

Then, it was gone, vanished as abruptly as a slide yanked from a projector. I blinked, my throat dry and constricted. 

Realizing the documentary’s credits were rolling, I looked around the room, confused again. I was surprised an hour had already passed. 

The front door clicked open, and I heard the sound of heels tapping sharply against the floor. Rosalie didn’t announce herself. She didn’t have to. Her presence moved through the room like a cold front, shifting the air without touching anything. I could feel the change in pressure in my chest.

“Didn’t know we were hosting tonight,” she said, voice cool but even. Her eyes found me almost instantly. They swept over me once, slowly. Then they landed on Edward.

Edward’s posture tightened a fraction. “We’re just relaxing. You’re welcome to join us.” 

“Huh,” she said softly, but there was something about the sound that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“So, Bella’s allowed out again?” she said with slight sarcasm lacing her tone, like the words had a second meaning I couldn’t quite reach.

The room seemed to contract around the statement, shrinking inward.

But Edward didn’t flinch. “Yes, Charlie’s lifted her punishment.”

She didn’t look away from him; she just clicked her tongue, “But she’s not allowed out.” She stated as a fact. 

My thoughts snagged on the phrase, unsure what to make of it. I tried to recall the last time I had been alone in a room, truly alone, but the memory wouldn’t come. It was like trying to look through fogged glass.

Carlisle spoke from his chair across the room. “We’re just glad to have her back with us.”

Rosalie didn’t even glance at him. She took a slow step closer, her eyes still locked on Edward. “She’s quiet,” she said, looking me over once again.

I dropped my gaze to my hands. They were resting in my lap, perfectly still. I hadn’t noticed that before. Was I quieter than usual? 

“She’s tired.” Edward’s fingers made light caresses on my arm, but his presence felt heavy, like a wool blanket draped across my shoulders. It was as if I were watching the moment unfold from just outside my own body. My reaction was delayed, like it took longer for the feeling to reach my brain.

Rosalie’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”

She moved toward the mantle, tracing her finger over the polished wood like she had all the time in the world. “You haven’t let her out of your sight in weeks, have you?” she asked casually, not looking at either of us.

The words hung in the air too long, like dust refusing to settle.

My breath caught slightly. That’s not true, I thought. Except… it kind of was. 

Edward didn’t answer immediately. “We’ve been catching up,” he said finally.

Rosalie nodded, too slowly. “Sure.”

My throat tightened under her scrutiny. I tried to sit straighter, say something normal, to defend Edward, but my thoughts scattered too quickly to make a logical argument. The words tumbled loose in my mind, bumping into one another without form.

Why was she looking at me like that?

“You always did take ‘protective’ a little too far,” Rosalie murmured toward Edward, venom in her tone. Edward’s grip around my waist tightened, just slightly, as if confirming her words.

What was happening?

Then, louder, her voice cut through the room like glass catching light. “Carlisle, are we really pretending there’s nothing wrong here?”

Carlisle didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t looking at Rosalie. He was looking at Edward. The look wasn’t angry, it wasn’t even questioning. It was quiet, searching. Like he already had doubts, but he wasn’t saying them aloud.

Edward straightened slightly beside me, his voice even but clipped. “She’s trying to adjust.”

“To what?” Rosalie asked, her gaze like a vice now. “I mean, look at her.” Her eyes flicked to me, then back to Carlisle. “You don’t see it?”

I swallowed, the pressure in my chest rising. See what? I wanted to ask. But the words stuck. My hands were folded too neatly again. My voice was too far away to access quickly enough to form the words I wanted to say.

“She’s fine,” Edward said, more forcefully now. “She’s been tired. That’s all.”

“You’ve said that twice already,” Rosalie replied. “It’s not convincing.”

Carlisle still didn’t say anything. He only glanced toward Esme, whose expression was soft, worried, but noncommittal, her hand lightly on Edward’s shoulder.

Silence settled again, and I could feel it gathering in my lungs, thick and pressing.

I wasn’t sure why the air in the room suddenly felt too sharp, why everyone was watching me without really saying anything. Why were they all so quiet? I wanted someone to explain what was happening, but no one would.

“She hasn’t said anything,” Rosalie said bluntly, breaking the silence.  “Not once since I walked in.” She turned to Carlisle, “She’s not speaking. She’s not smiling. You don’t think that’s strange?”

“Rosalie,” Esme said firmly. But the way her hand twisted around the hem of her blouse told a different story. She wasn’t sure either.

A flicker of something passed through me, and Angela’s voice came back like a ripple under my skin: You know I haven’t seen you smile once, Bella….Not once since… since they came back. And Jacob’s letter, folded so carefully, the ink smudged near the edges: I don't know what they're doing to you, but something's wrong.

The memories pierced through like a pinprick behind my eyes. Something’s wrong, that I knew. I could feel it. But I couldn’t trace the shape of it.

“I’ve just been… off,” I said aloud, finally finding my voice. The words slipped out with no conviction. “Not myself, I guess.”

Then Rosalie turned, eyes still locked on Carlisle. “And none of you think this is a problem?”

Carlisle didn’t respond. His expression was unreadable as his gaze flicked to Edward.

Edward straightened. “She said she’s fine,” he said flatly, the edge in his voice unmistakable. It was a dismissal. Not reassurance.

But I wasn’t sure it was true. Not anymore.

Rosalie’s arms stayed crossed, her golden gaze sweeping the room like a blade.  She huffed out a breath, barely a sound, but sharp enough to cut through the tension. “If no one else is bothered,” she muttered, her voice low and cold, “then I guess I’m not either.”

She turned, heels tapping with quiet finality across the polished floor. The sound echoed after her as she disappeared around the corner.

My body was motionless, but my pulse had spiked. I could feel it in my throat, in my wrists, even in the backs of my knees. 

Across the room, Emmett blinked and looked up, like he was only just rejoining the moment. “Did I miss something? Everyone’s got that ‘we just buried a body’ vibe.” He grinned at his joke, but no one laughed.

Esme stepped forward delicately, her expression already softening. “She’s just concerned,” she said gently. “We all are. Things have been… tense. That’s all.” She came to sit beside me on the couch, her touch light on my shoulder, her smile practiced and warm. “You’ve been through so much, Bella. We’re just happy to have you back with us, where it’s safe.”

Safe.

The word rolled over me like cold water. I nodded, the motion stiff and mechanical. My hands were still clenched.

I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t feel much of anything, except for the persistent buzz beneath my skin, as if my nerves were frantically trying to signal something vitally important that I couldn’t quite decipher. 

Esme’s hand lingered a moment longer, warm and careful, before she withdrew with a soft smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

I thought of Angela, the way her voice cracked on my name, and the way her fingers brushed mine like a lifeline. I thought of Jacob’s letter, folded and creased from how often I’d touched it without reading it again. I thought of how quiet I’d become. The way Rosalie had looked at me, not with cruelty this time, but suspicion. Recognition.

Carlisle spoke up for the first time in a while, “I trust you’re keeping her well.”

Alice was beside us in an instant, her laugh too sweet, too light. “She’s in good hands, Carlisle. We’ve got her covered.”

Carlisle gave a faint nod of approval.

My head spun. Why was this all being said like I wasn’t here? Why did I feel like the subject of a meeting I hadn’t agreed to attend?

I pressed my hand against the cushion, needing something to hold me in place, something to prove I was still here. But I couldn’t feel the texture beneath my palm. Couldn’t even tell if my fingers were cold or warm.

I reached for my wrist. A small comfort, a reflex I didn’t even think about anymore. But my fingers met bare skin.

I looked down.

The bracelet Jacob had given me, the leather cord, and the tiny wolf were gone.

A strange sound rose in my throat, not quite a gasp. My pulse stuttered, then surged. I flipped my hand over, then back again, as if I’d just missed it. As if it might still be there.

It wasn’t.

Panic clawed up my ribs. Sharp, bright fear that sliced through unrelenting fog like a knife.

Where was it? 

My thoughts got tangled immediately. Had I taken it off? Had someone…?

I couldn’t remember. 

“Shh, what’s wrong?” Edward whispered in my ear. “Your heart is racing.” His breath ghosted across my cheek, soft and cool.

The sharpness dulled. The fear dimmed.

And in its place was nothing. Numbness that was soft and absolute. Like being lowered into a warm, quiet pool and sinking beneath the surface.

Just as the silence grew unbearable, Alice stood. “Bella,” she said gently, smiling too quickly. “I have something to show you upstairs.”

I nodded, or maybe just blinked. My legs moved on their own as she took my hand. No one met my eyes.

I thought I saw Rosalie’s shadow near the hallway–arms crossed, unmoved, but I didn’t look long enough to be sure.

“I found the most perfect dress for you,” Alice said as we climbed the stairs, voice light, bright, practiced. “You have to see it. And I picked a few new things for school, something to make the rainy days less gloomy.”

I didn’t answer.

All I could think about was the empty place on my wrist. And the way it already felt like nothing had ever been there at all.

Chapter Text

Jacob POV

The door slammed against its frame with enough force to send tremors through every window in the house. A picture frame tilted askew on the wall, but I ignored it completely. Billy remained motionless at the kitchen table, nursing his half-empty coffee mug with infuriating composure, as if I hadn't just burst through the entrance like a man possessed.

"Planning to demolish the place, or would you prefer conversation?" he asked without lifting his gaze from the newspaper he was obviously not reading.

Ignoring him, I started pacing around the living room, my frustration only growing with each step. Sam's words kept echoing in my mind: “If she really mattered, you would’ve told her.” My hands clenched into fists at the memory, digging into my palms as rage threatened to take over. The urge to smash something was so intense, but I couldn’t let that happen, not when Dad was around. But the anger was building up, and I couldn’t hold it back; the words just flew out of my mouth.

“He accused me of letting her fall into this mess,” I snapped, turning on my heel to face him. “That I didn’t care enough to tell her the truth.”

That got Billy's attention. He set down his mug, his eyes locking onto mine with that steady gaze of his. 

"Sam said that?"

Grunting an affirmation, I resumed my pacing, my fingers through my messy hair. "He’s falling apart, Dad. He’s hiding behind his Alpha title, as if that makes him in the right. Meanwhile, Bella is suffering, and he acts like it’s none of our business."

Billy didn’t try to argue, “Sit.”

“I don’t wanna to sit,” I shot back. “I want to break something.”

“Then sit before you do.”

Something in his tone cut through my rage, and I collapsed into the chair across from him, every muscle in me tense and ready to snap. 

"I've got to talk to the council," I said, my voice charged with urgency, "They need to know what’s happening here. Sam’s sitting on his hands, and I won’t just stand back and watch her disappear." 

Billy picked up his coffee, moved slowly like he was savoring every drop, then set it down with a quiet clink. "I’ve already brought it to the council’s attention." 

That stopped me short. “Wait… what?”

He nodded once, calm as ever. "Twice, actually."

I just stared at him in disbelief. "And what did they say?" 

“They’re hesitant,” Billy said slowly, eyes steady. “The council’s never faced anything like this before. It’s uncharted territory, and that makes them cautious, maybe too cautious.”

My stomach turned. “So they’re just… waiting?”

“They’re just being cautious. It’s not that they don’t care; they’re just confused about what we’re actually up against,”

“That's complete garbage!” I pushed my chair back, the legs screeching against the floor. “They go on and on about the sanctity of imprinting and how important it is to protect human life from bloodsuckers. Bella is both of those things.”

Billy didn’t change his expression, but I could see something softer in his eyes. “Jake, don’t mix up hesitation with apathy. Bella means a lot to everyone: me, the council, and it’s not just because of your connection. I’ve watched her grow up, you know? She was just a little girl when she started coming around. I can still picture her trailing after Charlie, curled up on this couch during our Sunday games. She’s not just your imprint, she’s family, and Charlie’s worried sick.”

His heartfelt words deflated my anger, and I sank back into my seat, my frustration fading. "It feels like we’ve already lost her," I admitted, my voice cracking like glass. 

"I get that feeling," Billy said softly, his gaze steady on me. "But we can’t jump to conclusions. We need to think this through; emotions can’t drive our choices right now. What we need is solid proof." 

I ran my hand through my hair again, trying to shake off the tension coursing through me. "No way am I going to sit back and wait until she’s gone for good before we finally do something. Enough is enough."

Billy's gaze locked onto mine, steady and unwavering. "Listen, Jacob," he said, his voice firm. "You need to act intelligently. Channel that rage into something useful, build a solid case. Show the council the undeniable truth of what's happening here."

I stayed quiet, but resentment boiled inside me. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. 

His eyes drifted toward the window, where the first light of dawn broke through the trees. 

"I’ve been thinking about Charlie," he said after a long pause, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "If this thing goes south… if Bella doesn’t get better…" I could see his jaw tighten. "I might have to tell him everything."

The shock hit me hard. I couldn't find the words.

"He's already closing in on the truth," Billy continued, a weight to his tone. "You heard him on the phone. He knows something’s wrong, and if he thinks no one's paying attention, no one's got his back…" He shook his head slowly, frustration etched on his face. "Charlie’s a good man, but when desperation sets in, he might do something he'll regret."

The impact of his words felt heavy between us.

“I don’t want to blindside him,” Billy said. “But I’m not going to stand by and watch her get swallowed whole either. Not for tradition. Not for secrecy.”

I let out a shaky breath, my chest tight with emotion. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I had someone in my corner.

The adrenaline from earlier was wearing off, leaving me drained and achy. My legs felt like they were made of lead, and my head throbbed like a drum. Sleep had evaded me for more than twenty-four hours.

Like he read my mind, he said, “You should sleep.”

For once, I didn’t argue. I just stood up and walked toward the hallway, exhaustion settling behind my eyes like weights, dragging me down.

Just before reaching my room, I hesitated and turned back slightly. 

"Wake me if anything happens," I called over my shoulder.

“You have my word,” he promised.

Sleep had completely ditched me, leaving me wrestling with exhaustion that felt like it was dragging my bones down to the floor. I crashed hard, and even when I finally managed to drift off, my dreams turned into a chaotic mess. 

Bella stood at the cliff’s edge. I screamed her name, but she didn’t look back; she just stepped off, slipping silently into the dark sea below. Edward waited beneath the waves, eyes black as night. My legs refused to move, stuck to the earth while she drowned.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, and that burning imprint under my ribs felt like a warning that something was seriously wrong.

Then came the pounding on my door. There were hard, frantic knocks that had me sitting up before I could even process what was happening.

Another bang followed, and I heard Billy’s voice, quieter than usual but shaking enough to send chills down my spine. “Jacob. It’s Angela. You need to take this call.”

My stomach dropped.

I stumbled out of bed, kicking aside a crumpled shirt as I reached for the door handle. Billy was already holding it out for me on the other side, his expression was unreadable, but tense in a way that made my pulse spike.

“She’s crying,” he said. “I don’t even think she knows what she’s saying.”

I snatched up the phone, my heart racing. "Angela?"

Her sobs were choking, and it took a long moment before any words broke through. 

"Angela, hey—it’s Jake. What happened? Please, just talk to me." 

Her breath hitched violently on the other end. “I—I tried, I—I tried to talk to her—I thought I could—Jake, she didn’t even know—she forgot you—she forgot you. ” The last word cracked completely.

The wind howled faintly behind her voice. Angela was outside, maybe in the school parking lot. "No, wait—she didn’t forget you," Angela rushed out, desperate for me to understand. "It wasn’t like that. Not exactly."

I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles turned white, my heart pounding against my ribs. I couldn't find the words to respond.

“I said your name, and she just… paused,” Angela continued, voice shaking. “She stared at me like she knew it mattered but couldn’t figure out why. ”

I shut my eyes, feeling a wave of despair wash over me. That was worse than just forgetting.

"I asked her what was going on, told her she wasn't herself. She looked right at me and said, 'I’m just having trouble focusing lately.' " Angela’s voice broke completely.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, the weight of her words crashing over me. It felt like a truck hit me. It was the confirmation of what I’d been trying to deny, what I didn’t want to believe.

“I thought maybe it was stress, or being overwhelmed,” Angela went on, words tumbling now, faster, more frantic. “But Jacob, it wasn’t just that. Her face was… wrong. Like she was trying to push through something, and every time she got close, it slipped away again.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And then Alice showed up.”

My hand gripped the phone so hard I heard cracks, but I couldn't be bothered to care.

"She didn’t even seem bothered,” Angela continued. “When Alice got close, Bella went completely still. Like someone hit pause, she just nodded and walked away like nothing even happened." I could hear the gravel crunching as she paced. "I followed them to the parking lot. She got into Edward’s car without looking back. No wave, no goodbye. Just got in and left."

"And I don’t know why, but the moment they drove away, I just started crying. I didn’t even realize it until it felt like I couldn’t breathe."

Her voice cracked again. "Something's wrong with her, Jake. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s like someone is... controlling her. And she doesn’t even know it." There was a pause, and I could hear how shaky her breathing was. "It doesn’t feel right. None of it feels natural."

I wanted to respond, but the words were stuck in my throat like a rock. My head felt like it was about to explode.

Angela must’ve thought my silence meant I doubted her because she sniffled and said, "I know I probably sound insane. I just... I had to tell someone. Guess I’ll talk to you later—"

“Angela, wait, don’t hang up yet.” I jumped up, pacing the small space by my bed, gripping the broken phone like it was a lifeline. "What you saw… It’s important. More than you realize. You’re not in this alone."

Silence lingered on the line.

"I’ve appreciated all the details you have been giving me. I swear I haven’t given up. I would never."

“Have you talked to her dad?” She asked quietly. 

“Yes and no. There are things he doesn’t understand, things I can’t tell him or you, for that matter.”

“Jake,” she said softly, uncertain. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it over the phone. Not yet. But I need you to come to La Push. Today, if you can. Please.”

“I—”

"I just need you to tell some people exactly what you told me," I urged, my voice cracking a bit. "Word for word. Every little detail. There’s so much more going on than you think, and if they hear it straight from you… It could really help. It could change everything." 

There was a long pause, and I could hear her breathing, shaky but steadying. "You’re scaring me," she whispered.

“I know,” I said. “I’m scared, too.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I’ll come.”

Relief washed over me, tension easing just enough for me to breathe again. "Thank you. Just call me when you’re on your way. I’ll make sure someone’s here for you." I hurriedly gave her my address.

She hung up, and I stood there, the phone still pressed to my ear, feeling a rush of adrenaline. When I finally set it down, my hands were still shaking.

Billy was waiting in the hallway, and his expression was like stone. He rolled forward a bit and spoke in that low, serious voice of his, his Chief voice.

“You can’t tell Angela.”

"I know that," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shove down the rising panic. "Of course I know that. I’m not an idiot."

Billy fell silent for a moment, and the tension in the air felt thick enough to cut. 

"I'm not going to tell her about the pack," I pressed. "Not the legends. Not the imprint. Nothing. I just need her to talk. That's all. She's seen something, and she’s scared. She should be."

Billy’s jaw clenched in that way that told me he was weighing every word. “It’s dangerous. Even dancing around the truth is dangerous.”

"She’s already in this, Dad," I said, my voice rising. "She’s already tangled up in whatever this is, whether we like it or not. And if what she said is even half true, we’re running out of time."

We locked eyes for what felt like forever, and then Billy let out a slow breath through his nose, rubbing his forehead like what he had to say physically hurt him. 

“You’re right.”

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

“You’re right,” he repeated. 

My heart raced, disbelief washing over me. 

Billy looked up, weariness in his eyes. "Just be smart about this. Don’t let it get out of hand." 

"I won't," I promised. "But I’m done just waiting around while Bella fades away."

The second I pushed through the door, I broke into a run. 

I skipped the usual route through the woods. There was a thin line of trees behind the house that led straight to the beach, just thick enough to cover what I needed to do. I let the heat take over as I yanked off my shirt, shoving down my shorts without slowing. My bare feet hit the pine needles, and then I was losing myself to the change, my body reshaping, fur bursting forth as I settled into my four legs, ready to move.

Sam.

His mental voice snapped into focus almost immediately. What is it? 

I need you and Embry at my house in an hour. Please.

There was a beat of silence. 

Fine. We’ll be there.

***

Half an hour later, I was wearing a groove into the front porch boards, pacing back and forth like the caged wolf I was. Every few seconds, I’d glance down the road, my heart pounding harder than it should for just waiting on a car.

Where the hell was she?

Finally, I heard a car coming down the lane towards the house.

I was off the porch before the headlights even rounded the bend. A beat-up gray sedan crunched into our gravel drive, and before it came to a full stop, the passenger door swung open.

Angela was out before the engine cut, her seatbelt barely flung off. She ran straight toward me.

Not just walking, not even hurrying. She was full-on sprinting. 

"Jacob—!" Her voice cracked right in the middle of my name.

She flung her arms around me like we were old friends, like we’d known each other our whole lives instead of meeting once under those messed-up circumstances. It threw me off how much she trusted me, how desperate she was for someone to listen to her.

Her whole body was shaking, not just from nerves, but the kind of trembling that goes bone-deep when panic sets in. I raised my hands for a moment, not sure what to do, but then instinct kicked in.

"Hey," I said quietly, steadying her with my hands on her shoulders. "You're okay. You made it." But even as I said it, I could tell if she was this shaken, things with Bella were way worse than I’d imagined.

Behind her, the driver’s door opened, and Ben Cheney climbed out, looking totally lost. When our eyes met, he shook his head slightly.

"She's been like this since school ended," he muttered. "Wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. Just kept saying she had to get here." He shrugged, but I could see Angela’s panic was freaking him out too.

I kept my voice calm. "You did the right thing bringing her."

Angela’s eyes were wide and glassy, still caught in the aftermath of her panic. 

"I mean it," I said, softer this time. "You're not losing it. You’re paying attention when everyone else is looking away. And we’re gonna figure this out."

She nodded, looking a bit shaky, and I couldn’t help but feel a little protective.

I turned to Ben, who was lingering behind her, arms crossed tight over his chest like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here or not.

"Come on in, both of you," I said, hoping to ease the tension.

I opened the door and stepped aside as they walked in.

I opened the door wide, letting them step inside. Billy was in the living room, just like always, with a half-empty coffee mug in hand. His eyes snapped up as the door clicked shut behind us. 

"Dad, this is Angela and Ben. They go to school with Bella," I introduced them. 

"Well, it’s good to meet you both," Billy said, flashing one of his comforting smiles. Almost instantly, I could see the tightness in their shoulders ease up a bit. That was just Dad, he had a way of making people feel at home, even when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control. 

Angela managed a nervous smile in return, but her hands were still fidgeting, almost like they had a mind of their own.

“Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the couch. “You want something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

“Water’s good,” Angela murmured, still clearly shaken.

As I was crossing the kitchen, Ben followed me. I could sense he wanted to say something away from Angela, so I slowed my movements. He stepped closer, keeping his voice down and glancing back at Angela.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he whispered, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Didn’t want to freak her out more than she is.” 

"But I've got a class with Bella," he continued, his voice low. "And last week... she just started panicking for no reason. Just froze up completely. It was like she couldn’t get air. Looked terrified of something."

My jaw tightened at his words. "What happened then?" I asked, my protective instincts flaring.

"Edward was right there, like he always is," Ben said, clearly frustrated. "He just started rubbing her back, real slow, right in the middle where her shoulder blades meet." He swallowed hard, like it was tough to get the words out. "And Bella just went completely still, like a switch flipped. I thought it was strange back then, but ever since Angela started pointing things out... I can’t shake the feeling it’s happening way too often just to be a coincidence."

Ben stepped back, taking a drink of the water I handed him, while I studied his expression, looking for any sign that he might have more to say.

He glanced down, avoiding my gaze. "Look... I've never gotten a good vibe from the Cullens. Not once. But Bella seemed genuinely happy with Edward before they took off last year. Now, though..." His voice dropped lower, heavy with concern. "I don’t know her well enough, but I agree with Angela. Something's really off. She doesn’t seem happy at all."

Ben’s words weren’t a surprise. Not really. I’d felt it for weeks. But hearing someone else say it, someone outside all of this, someone who didn’t know the legends, or what the Cullens really were, and still saw it? That twisted the knife.

Even Charlie was missing the signs. Sure, he sensed something was off, but not in the same way. He wasn’t connecting the dots like Ben and Angela were. Not about them.

"Thanks for sharing that," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Can you tell my friends when they get here?" 

Ben looked a bit confused, maybe even uneasy, but nodded. "Yeah, sure." 

***

About thirty minutes later, I felt Sam's approach before I even heard him. I could tell he’d brought Embry, just like I asked, but there were two others with him, Quil and Leah. 

The knock on the door wasn’t really a knock, just one solid hit that rattled the whole frame.

Sam’s body was a coil of tension, ready to snap. His jaw clenched so tightly that it looked bruised; his eyes were sharp and restless as they flicked past me into the room. Every muscle screamed restraint, but the storm beneath was unmistakable.

Embry was right behind him, hands shoved deep into his pockets, trying to look cool but quickly shifting gears when he caught my expression. Quil followed close behind, eyebrows raised, and quickly picked up on the tension in the air. Leah brought up the rear, her expression unreadable. 

I stepped aside, trying to keep my cool. "Come in." 

Sam’s eyes had that sharp intensity to them, like they could cut through anything. But he walked in without a word, the rest of the pack following in with a lot more caution than usual.

Angela sat up straighter on the couch, her whole body going rigid. Ben instinctively shifted closer to her, and honestly, who could blame him? With Sam and the rest of the guys towering over them, plus Leah’s trademark glare, it wasn’t a welcoming scene at all.

Sam just gave them a tiny nod, acknowledging they were there but nothing more.

Embry didn’t shift his gaze from me; he was scanning my face like I was holding the answers to a puzzle he needed to solve.

Dad welcomed them in. “Quil. Leah. Sam,' he said evenly. 'Have a seat.” I was grateful he was taking charge; it made dealing with Sam a bit easier. Sam had a lot of respect for my dad, even when he acted like a stubborn jerk about everything else.

“Sam,” I said, finally closing the door behind them. “Thanks for coming.” 

Sam finally locked eyes with me, but his smile was tight, like it barely existed. “You said it was urgent.” 

“It is.”

“Well?” he pushed, his tone a thinly veiled demand for me to hurry it up. That really got under my skin. This wasn’t just a casual drop-in; Bella was in deep trouble, and he was acting like I was wasting his precious time. I took a breath, trying to stay focused.

“I called Jacob again,” Angela’s voice cut in, trembling and thick with emotion. “There’s something seriously wrong with the Cullens. Bella’s not herself, and it’s getting worse.” 

Billy rolled over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. 

I turned back to Sam, ready to unleash my frustration when I caught sight of Embry. He was staring at Angela like he’d just seen a ghost, completely knocked off balance. I must have looked as shocked as he did because Sam turned around and muttered something under his breath, clearly annoyed. 

Leah let out a dark chuckle, "Wonderful."

Ben looked confused, darting his gaze between Angela, who was now staring at Embry like she'd seen a ghost, and the rest of us. "Do you two know each other?" 

Embry shook his head, snapping back to whatever planet he’d been on. "Oh, um, no. Sorry. She just... looks a lot like someone I used to know. A girl named... Marie." Seriously, way to play it cool, man. Ben wasn’t buying it for a second and inched Angela closer to him.

Angela was still eyeing Embry, her brow furrowed, trying to wrap her head around the whole situation. I couldn’t blame her; it was weird.

Ben narrowed his eyes but didn’t press the issue. Just held Angela’s wrist lightly, protectively, like she might vanish if he let go.

I cleared my throat, trying to get everyone's focus back on track. "Angela, Ben," I said, forcing the words out. "Could you tell them what you mentioned to me earlier?" 

Angela shot a quick glance at me, then at the group. She was clearly nervous, but she nodded anyway.

Her voice was quiet, shaky even, as she talked about the strange patterns she'd noticed in Bella's behavior around the Cullens. It was like sometimes she was acting pretty normal, and then out of nowhere, she'd zone out, all blank and distant when they got too close. She kept insisting it sounded unbelievable, that it didn’t make any sense, but I was there to reassure her. Nothing she was saying sounded insane to me; we needed every single detail.

Then Ben jumped in, backing her up. He recounted the classroom incident, how Bella had panicked out of nowhere, and how Edward had managed to calm her down just with a touch. It was like a light switch had flipped; everything changed in an instant. He had started seeing things, too, all those little details that stacked up to something way too big to just write off as a coincidence.

No one interrupted. Even Sam stayed quiet, arms crossed over his chest, mouth a tight line. Quil and Leah exchanged a glance, but didn’t speak. Embry barely breathed, but his eyes stayed locked on her as she spoke.

After they both told their stories, Angela and Ben stood, awkward and pale, the tension in the room clearly too much to bear. Angela gave me a quick, uncertain look, like she wasn’t sure if she'd done something wrong. I shook my head and stood with them.

“Thank you,” I said, walking them to the door. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

Ben nodded stiffly, his brain still trying to process the mess they’d just walked into. Angela, out of nowhere, leaned in for a quick hug. I wasn’t expecting it, but I returned it, trying to ignore how much I wanted to protect them.

"We'll keep an eye on her," she whispered, her voice low and serious. "If anything else happens—"

“Call me,” I said.

"We will," Ben chimed in, his hand on her back as they stepped out onto the porch. I stayed put, watching until their taillights vanished around the corner.

Then I closed the door and turned back to face the room.

The second the door clicked shut, Sam let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it since we started. "You ambushed me," he said, clearly flustered.

"Because you aren’t taking this seriously," I shot back, taking a step forward. I wasn’t about to let this slide. "Bella’s in trouble, Sam. You saw it for yourself. You listened to what they said. People who know nothing about the supernatural are starting to catch on. You heard Angela, she said its not natural. "

“That doesn’t mean we’re authorized to act,” he snapped. “We don’t break the treaty based on a few weird observations and bad gut feelings.”

"This is way bigger than that." My hands balled into fists. "What they described is exactly what Bella told me before she took off to Italy." 

Sam scoffed, dismissing me like I was just a kid throwing a tantrum.

"What?" I shot back with a hiss.

"Do you seriously think she didn’t go there of her own choice?" he retorted.

I felt red haze creeping into my vision as I stepped closer, ready to put him in his place.

“Whoa, now just hold on, Jacob.” Billy’s voice cut through the air like a crack of thunder. “Sam, that is not helpful. If Jacob says Bella told him that she felt forced to go to Italy, I believe him.”

I could see Sam's jaw twitching, but he managed to keep his mouth shut…for now.

Leah was the one who spoke up next, “I believe you.” My eyes widened at her.

Leah pushed off from the wall, her stance radiating tension as she stepped toward Sam, eyes blazing with frustration. “When I asked her what she wanted now that Edward’s back, she said she didn’t want him.” Her voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding. 

“Maybe you’re too caught up in your own head to see it, but I get it. When someone shatters your heart and walks away, you don’t just shrug it off and act like nothing happened. She swore she was done with him. And now? She’s chasing after him like some helpless puppy. You know exactly what those guys are capable of.”

She took another step closer. “So are you gonna man up and believe what’s right in front of your face, or are you going to keep pretending you don’t see it while that girl suffers?”

Sam looked like he’d been blindsided, like her words had found his soft spot and ripped it open. His arms hung at his sides, but the energy around him crackled, his shoulders taut, fists barely flexing. He wasn’t gearing up for a fight; he was still in the aftermath of one he’d already lost.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, "I’m not saying something isn’t off. But we’re still bound by the treaty."

Billy piped up again, his voice steady but full of weight. "We’re not asking you to break the treaty. We want you to recognize that something unnatural might be going on, and that we can’t just ignore it because it’s complicated."

I caught Quil shifting his stance out of the corner of my eye. He hadn’t said a word since he walked in, but he looked worried, arms crossed, forehead creased.

Sam stared at the floor, working it all through. His jaw was tight, and his hands flexed before going still. "I need to think about this," he finally said. "We don’t have enough solid proof. This is all... unsettling. But it’s not enough for action just yet."

Frustration clawed at my chest. “So we wait for what? Bella to vanish? To wake up one day and not even remember who she is?”

Sam shook his head. "I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m saying... maybe it’s time for someone to have a direct talk with their leader." 

That stopped me cold. “A talk?”

He shrugged, “A conversation. With their leader.” 

I blinked, caught off guard. That wasn't what I was expecting at all.

"You want to go alone?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around it.

Sam nodded, firm as ever. "One-on-one. No accusations. Just… questions. If something's up with Bella, I want to look him in the eye when he denies it."

Billy was thoughtful as he chimed in. "Carlisle Cullen. He's their patriarch. Always calm, direct." 

I shot a glance at Quil. His face was steady, but I caught the slight nod he gave, a silent acknowledgment of support.

Then Embry leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine. "You think he'll actually admit to anything?" 

"Probably not," Sam said, wiping the weariness from his face. He sank into a chair, rubbing his temples like he could push away the stress. "But it's a start." 

I studied Sam, trying to read him. This wasn’t the usual brick wall; there was a shift in him, some openness I hadn’t seen for weeks. It felt good, even with the unease hanging in the air.

The room stayed quiet for a moment after Sam’s last words.

Then Billy shifted in his chair, letting out a breath that signaled the meeting was wrapping up for now. Leah, who was clearly fed up, shook her head and mumbled something about testosterone and half-baked plans before disappearing into the kitchen for a drink.

Embry was perched on the edge of the loveseat, looking tense, like he expected the ground to give way any moment. I slid in next to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.

“You good?” I asked quietly.

Embry blinked, almost like he didn’t hear me at first. Then he nodded, tight and restrained. “Yeah. Just… processing everything.”

A beat of silence settled between us, then Quil cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “So, uh. About what happened earlier…” 

Embry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

I locked eyes with him, needing to address it head-on. “That was an imprint, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t reply right away, just let out this long breath and rubbed his face like he was trying to erase the moment. “I just stared at her like a total idiot while she was right there with her boyfriend.” 

Quil winced in response. “Yeah… I was gonna say something nice, but, you know, it was a trainwreck.” 

Embry groaned louder, obviously feeling the weight of it all. 

Leah reentered, glass of water in hand. One glance at Embry’s hidden face, Quil’s awkward silence, and me sitting close, and she raised a sharp eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” she said dryly, “welcome to the club. How wonderful.”

Embry peeked up, his face practically a shade of tomato. “Mhm. Thanks.” 

Leah moved past us and leaned against the arm of the couch, setting her water down on the side table. “Look,” she said, arms crossed, “I’m not about to pretend that imprinting is some fairytale miracle. Honestly, half the time it looks like a trap to me.” 

Quil started to speak, but she raised a hand to stop him.

“But,” she said, eyes on Embry, “I know you. You’re not the guy to bulldoze someone just because fate slapped a label on you.”

Embry looked up, surprised.

Leah shrugged, a hint of softness breaking through. “So, maybe don’t panic. You haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.”

That was about as encouraging as Leah ever got. 

Embry managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Lee. I think.” 

Billy rolled forward then, quiet but steady, his expression gentler than usual.

Then Billy rolled forward, quietly steady, with an unusually gentle expression on his face. “Embry,” he said, voice calm, “you don’t have to do anything right now. Don’t feel rushed by us or by the imprint. Just be present. Pay attention. Let her be who she is. That’s what matters.” 

The room fell silent. Then, out of nowhere, Sam stood up violently, his chair scraping hard against the floor as he stormed out without a word. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the house. 

We all just sat there for a second, staring after him.

Leah sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’d think for someone who talks about responsibility all the time, he’d be better at taking it.”

Quil snorted quietly. Embry let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite.

Outside, the trees swayed gently against the wind, the sky softening into the smoky blue of early evening. We talked quietly for a while longer, then one by one, they left.

Quil stood first, clapping Embry gently on the back as he passed. Leah gave a quick nod to Billy, her expression unreadable as always, and followed without a word. Embry lingered, as if he needed to say something but could just never quite find the words. Finally, he shot me a tight smile and headed out, the screen door clicking shut behind him. 

I stayed standing in the middle of the room, hands at my sides, pulse steady but loud in my ears. Everything we’d just said was still ringing in the air.  

I felt frozen in place, but every part of me was screaming to move. Not out of fear or to escape into the woods, but just to be near her. To see her face again, even if it was just through a window or catching a hint of her scent on the breeze.

I turned and headed for the door.

Stepping outside, cold air hit me hard. Damp and thick with mist, the sky hung low and gray, but I didn’t care where I was going. My feet seemed to know the way without asking.

From behind me, Dad’s voice cut through the quiet, calm, and steady. “She’ll find her way back to you, son.”

Bella POV

Edward’s car idled at the curb, the engine humming softly in the gray afternoon light. Pale light filtered through the windshield, washing everything in muted tones that made the world feel distant and dreamlike.

He turned toward me as my hand found the door handle. "I'll see you later?”

"Okay," I murmured, the word slipping out automatically.

 He leaned across the space between us, his lips brushing against my forehead with that familiar, careful tenderness. There was the feeling of icy, cold, rock-hard marble on my soft skin.

"Get some rest," he said softly, and then he was gone, the car gliding away so quietly, as if it had never been there.

When I walked inside, I knew something was wrong before I saw him.

Charlie stood by the living room window with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn't turn when I closed the door behind me, nor did he acknowledge my presence at all. He just kept staring out at the empty street beyond the glass.

“You need to sit down,” he said.

My stomach dipped. “Okay,” I answered, because it was easier than asking why.

I let my backpack slide to the floor by the stairs and walked into the living room on unsteady legs. The chair seemed to pull me down with unusual force, as if gravity had suddenly decided to work against me.

Charlie finally turned around. His face was flushed red to his ears, and his expression wasn't the careful neutral mask he usually wore. It was angry, raw, and unguarded in a way that made my chest tighten with dread.

“You’re not seeing him tonight,” he said.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"Edward." His voice was flat, final. "You're not seeing him tonight. He needs to give us space to talk and reconnect."

The words landed strangely. “I don’t understand—”

"I've tried to stay out of it." He took a step closer, his hands clenching at his sides. "I've given you space. God knows I bit my tongue harder than I wanted to when he came back. But I can't ignore it anymore."

I sat up straighter, my pulse beginning to race. "Ignore what?"

"Bella." His voice cracked slightly around my name. "How can you look me in the eye and pretend any of this is normal?"

“I’m not pretending—”

"Yes, you are!" The words exploded out of him, sharp and jagged. 

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came. The words died somewhere between my brain and my tongue, lost in the strange fog that seemed to cloud my thoughts lately.

"You barely talked for months," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "You didn't sleep. You didn't eat. You didn't even look like yourself anymore. And now what? Everything's magically fine because he says it is?"

I couldn’t answer.

"And I can't ignore how you've been treating Jacob." Charlie's voice broke slightly. "He's been trying to reach you. He calls constantly to ask me if you're okay. He was there for you when you were at your lowest, and now you just dropped him like he meant nothing."

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through my chest, so intense I almost cried out. I gasped, pressing my hand against my ribs in shock. "I just... I don't know."

Charlie's face twisted with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "I watched you climb your way out of the hole that boy put you in. I saw what it took for you to recover, all the sleepless nights, the screaming, the way you'd stare at nothing for hours. And now you're just... back in it."

He began pacing then, short and agitated strides that made his boots strike the floor harder than necessary. This wasn't like Charlie at all. I'd never seen him this angry, this uncontrolled. The realization that I was the cause of his pain made my heart swell with unexpected guilt. 

"I don't get it, Bella. I really don't." He stopped and stared at me with desperate eyes. "How could you take him back after what he did to you?"

The question hit like a physical blow. I swallowed hard, but it didn't ease the tightness in my throat.

Charlie stopped pacing abruptly. He looked down at me with something raw and vulnerable flickering behind his anger.

"I know you're almost grown," he said, his voice dropping to something smaller, more fragile. "I know I can't ground you or tell you who to see anymore. But this isn't right." He paused, and then said even quieter: "I don't know what's happening to you.

He sank into the armchair across from me as if all the fight had suddenly drained out of him. His hands fell into his lap, and for the first time, I noticed how much older he looked, tired and frightened in a way that made my chest ache.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered. "Not again. Not when I just got you back."

The guilt cracked through the strange numbness that had been surrounding me like light breaking through fractured glass. My throat burned with unshed tears as I really looked at him. Charlie was trying too hard to get through to me, and it was so hard to wade through to reach him. But I would try for him.

 "I'm sorry," I said, my voice rough and unsteady. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Charlie's head bowed, his shoulders hunching inward as if trying to shield himself from more pain. He didn't speak, and somehow his silence said more than any words could have.

Moving off the floor, I went to sit beside him. I wasn’t sure what to do or what I could offer, but he was hurting, and I had to do something. My hand found his, and he choked back a sob. I couldn’t look him in the eye. We sat there for a while in silence, just together, and it was the most I felt like myself in weeks.

Still, there was a strange hollowness inside my chest, like a space I hadn’t noticed until now. Something important had been missing, and Charlie’s grief had carved around it like light through a closed door.

Eventually, he gave a faint, shaky sigh and wiped his face roughly with the side of his hand.

“I’ll have dinner ready in an hour. Can we sit and talk?”

After agreeing, I stood quietly and walked upstairs, one hand trailing along the bannister, not really sure what I was going to do next.

I sat on the edge of my bed in the dim light, staring at the corner of my desk. The room felt unfamiliar somehow. Or maybe I did.

I tried to trace back the last few weeks—what I’d done, what I hadn’t. The days blurred together. School. Edward. Nights at home, or sometimes not. Conversations that faded as soon as they ended. Like everything slid off me too fast to hold on to.

Why hadn't I been calling Jacob? Why had I stopped spending time with Angela? Why had I let so much slip by without even noticing? I didn't have clear answers, just the unsettling feeling that something had shifted while I wasn't paying attention, like a door left slightly ajar in the wind. Now that I'd noticed the gap, I couldn't stop seeing it.

Charlie was right about Jacob. The calls had come, again and again, and I'd never picked up the phone. Why had I done that?

The realization alone made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach. Jacob, the boy who had pulled me back from the brink, who had taught me to laugh again when I'd forgotten how, who had stood between me and literal monsters. Why would I treat him this way?

A sudden tingling sensation erupted in my chest like fireworks, followed by a powerful yanking feeling at my center that sent me tumbling to the floor. My arms caught me as I fell, and my startled gasp echoed through the silent room.

From this position on the ground, I glanced down. My wrists were bare. The spot where my bracelet had rested felt suddenly empty, a ghost warmth flickering like sunlight through leaves. Cedar smoke. Salt air. The echo of a laugh that once burned through darkness.

I gasped, a sob catching in my throat. It was gone. And with it, Jacob.

Clarity washed over me like cold water, sudden and shocking. I needed to see him.

With surprising grace, I leaped to my feet and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Charlie looked up, startled by my sudden reappearance.

"I'm going to see Jacob," I declared as I headed for the door, my entire body buzzing with an anticipation that felt foreign yet wonderful. The simple act of stating my intention aloud sent a surge of energy through my veins.

The screen door banged shut behind me as I crunched across the gravel to my truck. For the first time in what felt like weeks, I could actually breathe. The evening air tasted deliciously cool and crisp, and I gulped it down gratefully before climbing into the cab.

The familiar vinyl seat creaked its usual greeting as I slid into the driver's seat. My hands shook with pure eagerness as I thrust the key into the ignition, my mind already racing ahead to La Push, to Jacob's warm smile, to feeling like myself again.

The engine responded with a sluggish, half-hearted cough. I frowned, my excitement dimming slightly, and turned the key again. This time, I was rewarded with another weak sputter, followed by the grinding whine of a machine refusing to cooperate.

 "No, no, come on!" I muttered under my breath, smacking the steering wheel with the flat of my palm.

I twisted the key again, this time with more force. The engine made a sickening grinding noise before falling completely silent.

And then…

“Bella.”

The voice came from directly beside me, and I jerked so violently that my shoulder slammed into the driver's side window. Edward sat in the passenger seat as if he'd materialized from thin air, something small and metallic catching the dying light in his pale palm. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at him, confusion mixing with a cocktail of emotions I couldn't untangle.

His voice carried that familiar smooth control. "Where are you going?"

 I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat, feeling my earlier euphoria drain away like water disappearing down a storm drain. "I'm going to La Push," I managed, though the words came out weaker than I'd hoped. "To see Jacob."

His golden eyes flickered, just barely, so quickly I might have imagined it, but his expression remained carefully neutral. "The truck isn't working."

"I noticed," I snapped, relieved that my voice still carried some edge.

He tilted his head. I thought we agreed you'd stay away from the wolves. For your safety."

"I didn't agree to anything," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to his lap.

Edward's jaw tightened by perhaps a millimeter, and I caught the subtle shift of his fingers. Looking down properly, I could see the small piece of metal he held, something he'd obviously removed from under my hood. I didn't need to be a mechanic to understand what it meant.

“You disabled my truck,” I said slowly, the realization crashing through my chest like cold water.

He didn't respond immediately; instead, he studied me with that infuriating stillness that made him seem less like a person and more like a perfectly carved statue. Timeless. Immovable. Completely without remorse. It was suddenly terrifying.

Edward’s face remained carefully composed, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to do something reckless.”

I laughed, short and sharp. “Like driving ? Like seeing someone who’s been nothing but loyal to me?”

He leaned slightly forward, eyes softening like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal. “You’ve been overwhelmed lately. I’m trying to protect you, Bella.”

My jaw clenched. “By isolating me?”

His hand reached across the cab, brushing lightly against mine. The chill of his skin made me flinch. I stared at the space between us like it had become dangerous. I fought to keep my anger burning bright against the strange fog that always seemed to creep in around him. "It's not your decision who I see or when I see them, Edward."

He blinked, clearly startled. I don't think he expected me to push back.

"Why don't you trust me?" I asked, hating the pleading note that crept into my voice despite my best efforts.

"I do trust you," he insisted, but his response was too smooth, too rehearsed. "This isn't about trust. It's about safety. The wolves are unpredictable, and you're fragile."

"Don't," I snapped with sudden ferocity. "Don't call me that."

He actually flinched as if I'd slapped him, but I found that I didn't care about his hurt feelings.

I yanked the door handle and climbed out of the truck, not bothering to slam it shut behind me. I couldn't spend another second confined in that small space with him and his suffocating control.

As I walked back toward the house, Charlie's voice drifted out from the kitchen. "Bella? What happened?"

"Truck won't start," I replied simply, heading for the stairs.

“Do you want me to drive you?” 

"It's fine. I'll call Jacob tomorrow, maybe he can come here instead."

“Okay, dinner will be ready in an hour.”

“Kay,” I said as I slowly climbed the stairs.

A wave of relief washed over me at hearing him sound less distressed than before. But as I pushed open my bedroom door and stepped inside, I jumped to find Edward already sprawled across my bed as if he had every right to be there.

I froze, my hand still on the doorknob. His presence wasn’t a comfort; it was jarring. Too still. Too silent.

A frustrated sigh escaped me. "I'm really not in the mood for company, Edward," I said, my voice carrying a harshness I'd never used with him before.

"I know you're upset with me," he replied, flowing into a sitting position with that unnaturally fluid grace. "Please come sit. Let's talk about this."

I remained rooted by the door, my fingers tightening around the brass knob behind me like an anchor.

"What's the point?" I asked, exhaustion weighing down each word. "You're not really listening anyway."

“I promise to hear you out.” 

I stood there in the doorway, unwilling to cross the threshold into his sphere of influence. For a moment, the silence stretched between us like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap. Then, without my permission, Edward was beside me, his marble arms guiding me toward the bed with gentle but irresistible insistence.

His coldness seeped through my shirt, sending a shiver down my spine. I ached for Jacob’s warmth instead, arms that held real comfort, not this beautiful, empty echo. The thought confused me, I loved Edward…didn’t I?

I tilted my head just enough to study Edward's profile, and the strangest realization hit me: I hadn't truly seen him in weeks. My stomach clenched as I took in his perfect features, the flawless bone structure, the artfully tousled bronze hair, those liquid gold eyes. He was still breathtakingly beautiful, but the awe I'd once felt was completely absent. Instead of wonder, I felt only a hollow recognition, like looking at a stunning photograph of a place I'd never actually been.

The yanking sensation in my chest returned with renewed force, making me gasp audibly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice immediately tightening with concern as his hand rose to cup my cheek.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “I don’t know.”

But that was a lie. I did know, just not in any way I could articulate. The knowledge existed in fragments and feelings that no longer fit into the spaces they'd once occupied. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the tension that was spiraling beneath my skin like a living thing.

I sat with him in silence, his arms a constant pressure around me, unyielding. His cold was familiar by now, the kind of cold you forgot you were shivering under, until something warm brushed against you and reminded you what comfort used to feel like.

And that warmth, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Jacob.

I fixed my gaze on the far wall, trying to pull his face out of the fog. But it was like sandpaper had scraped away every sharp edge, every color.

I should remember him clearly. Should feel that spark.

Instead, there was only distance, guilt, and a persistent tugging sensation in my chest, as if something vital had been torn out by the roots.

Edward's hand moved in what was probably meant to be a soothing caress down my arm, and I had to suppress the urge to flinch. Not because his touch was painful, but because it felt wrong, it was too cold, and it wasn’t the hands I wanted touching me now.

"I thought I was doing okay," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Edward stiffened beside me, just barely. I swallowed hard and leaned forward, pulling myself out of his arms, needing space and air. 

I pressed my palm against my chest where that sharp pain continued to throb like a second heartbeat.

Then Edward's icy-cold hand covered mine again.  "I'm here," he whispered.

I didn't move toward him or away from him. I simply existed in the space between acceptance and rejection.

His arms encircled me once more, slowly this time, cautiously, as if he could sense how close I was to completely falling apart. I didn't pull away, but I didn't lean into his embrace either. I just allowed him to hold me the way I had countless times before.

I closed my eyes; I was so tired. I could feel myself being pulled under, but for a moment, I clung to the edges of myself, white-knuckled around a fragile clarity that trembled in my grasp. I didn’t want to let it go. I refused to.

Chapter Text

Sam POV

It wasn’t often I admitted I was wrong. Since discovering what I was and the responsibilities it brought, second-guessing wasn’t an option.

But that mindset had already caused me more trouble than it was worth. I was starting to wonder if maybe I was just clueless. But letting that thought in unleashed everything else—all my insecurities threatening to drag me under. Locking those doubts away was essential to survive.

Yet, here I was, caught on the wrong end of a problem again, and there was no one to blame for it but myself. I had messed up the situation with Jacob and Bella, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. I still thought we couldn’t have an all-out war over one girl, but I had to admit that that kind of thinking was toxic to the pack. We protected all life, no matter how clueless and gullible that life was around vampires.

Leah’s harsh words caught me off guard at Jacob’s house. I didn’t expect her to side with him. I thought maybe she’d see this was inevitable and cut me some slack. I was wrong. She hated me more than ever.

And honestly? I couldn’t blame her.

What made me an idiot was that despite everything, I still thought she'd have my back on this issue. I assumed she'd want nothing to do with a fight against the Cullens.

But Leah’s empathy ran deeper than I realized. She saw herself in Bella: a girl left brokenhearted and discarded like she meant nothing. Leah knew better than anyone how hard it was to come back from that kind of betrayal. 

And Bella had told us herself: she didn’t want to go back to Edward. The Cullens had her against her will. I was the idiot who let it go on.

After Leah confronted me, I started paying closer attention to her thoughts when we were phased together.  I realized I just hadn’t been paying attention, not closely enough anyway, not to her, not to Jacob. Their emotions ran so much deeper and more intensely than my own that they were almost overwhelming to experience, but reading the pack was my responsibility, and I was failing miserably at it.

Still, more pressing matters demanded attention. What were we going to do about Bella Swan?

We couldn't simply attack—the treaty had to be considered, and whether Jacob liked it or not, we couldn't be certain that all the Cullens were involved in whatever was happening to her.

I had never called a vampire before, and honestly, I wasn't sure how this would go. After getting the number from Billy along with another helpful lecture about protecting Bella, I settled into my couch with the cordless phone and stared at the number scrawled on the paper.

How the hell was I supposed to make this call? There was no manual for this kind of situation. What was I going to say—"Hey, I think your son is manipulating my pack brother's imprint. Stop him or we'll have problems"? Sighing, I dialed the numbers and waited through the rings.

“Cullen residence.” A smooth, high-pitched voice answered the phone; it was almost painful to hear.

"May I please speak to Carlisle Cullen?" I asked, internally groaning at the formality I was showing a bloodsucker.

“Speaking.”

“Uh, this is Sam Uley,” I said awkwardly.

“Ah, the Alpha.” He said it casually, as if it were common knowledge.

“How did you…? You know what, never mind. I was calling to ask to arrange a meeting. Would you be open to that?”

“Certainly. Can I ask what this is regarding? Although I may already have some idea.”

“I'd rather talk in person.”

“Sure. Will you be bringing your entire pack?”

“Just me and my beta. I prefer it to be just you and one other person of your choosing. Not Edward.”

“Ah, yes. I understand. Well, I have availability tomorrow evening. Will that work for you?”

 "Meet us fifty miles due north. Midnight?"

“See you then, Mr. Uley.”

I didn’t bother saying goodbye, I felt I had already given him enough formalities. A shiver ran down my spine. There was something oddly discomforting about the idea that this was essentially a business meeting with a vampire, but it had to be done, and at least it would get Jacob off my back. 

The following evening, Jared and I headed to the designated meeting spot. I told him I would phase and talk to Carlisle, and he would stay phased, nearby. Paul and Embry would be on patrol, but not near us, but they would be available just in case things went south. I didn’t anticipate anything going wrong as this was just a discussion, and I didn’t intend to make any ultimatums just yet. I wanted to get an understanding of the rest of the Cullens' involvement, starting with Carlisle. 

I’ve never been to a business meeting before. I should’ve worn a suit. Jared joked. 

Really,  Jared?

Sorry, I’m just trying to ease the tension. I promise I’m on my A game. 

The moon was full, lights casting long shadows over the clearing. We arrived early, but the vampires were already there. I phased in the woods and pulled on my shorts. Jared followed, staying a few steps behind.

The smell of vampires hit me like a wall; it was cold and sharp in the night air. I was sure they smelled us just as clearly.

Stepping into the clearing, the vampire scent hit me like a wall, carried on the night air. I was certain our scent was equally potent to them. A lean blonde who appeared no older than twenty-five stood at the center with a massive black-haired man. He must have been a bodybuilder before his transformation—pure muscle. Despite his intimidating size, he was the first to turn and smile at us. Strange.

"Glad you could make it," the blonde said, walking forward slowly with his hand extended. "I'm Carlisle, and this is my son Emmett." I took his hand, and the icy cold stung my palm.

When I pulled my hand back, the giant one, Emmett, reached out to offer his. I took it warily, but his grip was surprisingly gentle, though equally cold.

"Thank you for meeting us on short notice. You can call me Sam." I gestured behind me. "And this is Jared, my beta."

“Nice to meet you, Jared,” Carlisle said. 

Emmett stared at Jared with obvious fascination. "Is there a problem?" I asked.

"Not at all—he's huge! That's pretty awesome. Are you all that big?" I realized they'd probably never seen any of us phased before, which worked in our favor.

I shrugged, “More or less.”

"Awesome," Emmett replied with genuine enthusiasm.

"Anyway, there was an issue you wanted to discuss?" Carlisle pressed.

"We're concerned about Bella Swan's welfare," I said plainly, watching for their reactions.

Carlisle's expression remained unchanged. Emmett's face dropped; he wasn't as skilled at hiding his emotions.

“I see. And what is the nature of the concern?” He was playing dumb.

“My brother is concerned that your son is… manipulating Bella into being in a relationship with him.” 

Again, Carlisle showed no shock or surprise, just nodded to indicate he was listening. Emmett looked angry.

“May I ask why he thinks this?”

"After Bella returned from Italy, she told him that your other son—Jasper, I believe—used his gift on her to force her to go when she didn't want to."

  Carlisle's placid demeanor finally cracked.

"I apologize for that. It was an unfortunate situation, and Jasper is no longer living in the area. He's still family, but we decided it would make Bella more comfortable if he left temporarily."

“So it's true?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” It was Emmett who answered this time.

"Yes, and we couldn't be more apologetic about what happened. My children were concerned for Edward's life. I don't condone it, but I understand why they acted."

"That doesn't explain the ongoing behavior that concerns not only Jacob but Bella's school friends as well." At these words, Carlisle looked genuinely shocked. "Angela Weber, a close friend of Bella's, has contacted Jacob several times, crying about how worried she is. She says Bella no longer talks to her.” I cleared my throat, “Bella no longer talks to Jacob at all anymore. She won’t take his calls, won’t answer his texts, and according to him, your son doesn’t allow him anywhere near the house.”

Emmett grunted, but I wasn’t sure at what in particular.

I continued, “I am not sure if you are aware, but Bella had a close relationship with Jacob before she left, so you can see why this is very odd behavior for her.”

 “Yes, Edward mentioned that they were close friends,” Carlisle replied.

I scoffed, “That is an understatement.” 

"Were they in a relationship before Edward returned?" Carlisle questioned.

I wasn't sure about revealing imprinting yet, but since Edward already knew, it couldn't hurt, though it seemed he hadn't shared that information with his family.

“Bella is Jacob’s imprint.”

The big vampire cocked his head to one side, “Imprint?”

Jared sniffed behind me, uncomfortable with me sharing this information, but Edward already knew. He would tell them anytime they needed ammunition against us; there was no use hiding it anymore.

“Fated mate.” I clarified.

“Ah,” Carlisle said, and if a vampire could sweat, I imagined there would be a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“Did Edward tell you?” Emmett suddenly asked Carlisle gruffly.

"No, he did not. I apologize, Sam—we didn't know. Although I'm still not sure what the problem is. If Bella has chosen to be with Edward despite the imprint ,then…”

“That, “ I spoke over him, “Is the problem. I find it hard to believe that Bella would willingly be with Edward, not only because of her connection with my brother, but because of how Edward treated her previously. Do you see where my concern lies?”

“Yes, of course. I’m not sure what you are implyin,g though. Edward has no gifts of compulsion.”

“All I know is that if the closest people to her say she's not acting like herself, then there's something wrong and you have a responsibility to find out what.”

Carlisle and Emmett looked at each other, silently communicating something. 

When Carlisle turned back to me, his face was softer, “ I promise you we will get to the bottom of it. But Sam, I can guarantee that Bella is not in any danger with us. My son is deeply in love with her and would protect her with his own life.”

Jared huffed again in the background, apparently annoyed at his words. 

“I love Bella like a little sister. I promise I’ll watch out for her.” Emmett said. 

I nodded, “Thank you. I expect a follow-up soon. Jacob is very worried about her, and frankly, so is her father. Like I said, she's not acting herself. You can call me on the same number if you have anything to update.”

“Does Chief Swan know about you?” Emmett asked.

“No more than he does about you.” The vampires nodded in response.

“We’ll be in touch,” Carlisle said as they were leaving. At the last second, Emmett turned back to me and gave a salute. At my baffled expression, he laughed, and then they were gone.

I quickly tied my pants to my leg and phased.

That was fucking weird . Jared said, Do you believe the head vamp?

I don’t trust any of them, but to be honest, yeah, I think I believe he doesn’t know what's going on. If Carlisle doesn’t know what Edward was doing, that meant there are cracks in the coven—and leverage for us to find.

And the big one?

That’s an enigma. 

Jared chuckled, It sure is.

Jacob POV

Pacing was starting to become my natural form of exercise. I promised Sam I wouldn't phase while he was at his meeting with the Cullens, but I was so on edge I couldn't sit still. The anxiety gnawed at me with every passing minute, making my skin crawl with restless energy.

Surprisingly, it was Leah who came to keep me company while I waited. I appreciated how she'd stood up for Bella the other day, and I wouldn't forget that she was the first person besides me to challenge Sam in this situation. Even better, she'd put him in his place without even blinking. He was her alpha, but in that moment, he was her victim. I secretly loved it.

"Dude, please just sit down," Leah said as I paced back and forth for the hundredth time in five minutes.

"Can't," I said, continuing my relentless march across the yard.

She sighed and stood up. "Do you know how to do a cartwheel?"

My head whipped around to stare at her, “What?” 

"Do. You. Know. How. To. Do. A. Cartwheel?" She repeated, punctuating each word.

My eyebrows knit together. "Uh, I used to... why?"

Her arm flew out to the side. “Well, let's see it.” 

“Leah, what are you…” I tried to ask.

“Shut up. Just trust me.” 

"Okay, weirdo," I said and walked out onto the grass. It was cool and wet, feeling nice under my bare feet. The sensation grounded me slightly, a welcome relief from the churning in my chest.

“Uh, so like, hand hand, foot foot, right?” 

“Yup!” She said, popping the ‘p’. 

Putting one hand on the ground, I launched my legs into the air while bringing my other hand down, but midway through, I stumbled backwards and landed hard, the wet grass cool against my back, dampening my shirt and making me blink up at the sky in surprise.

 Leah was already laughing, one hand braced on her knee as she doubled over.

"Let me show you how the master does it." Within seconds, she was gracefully flying her legs through the air and totally stuck the landing. Damn.

“Lemme try again!” I said, getting to my feet. I started stretching a bit before trying again.

Centering my energy and picturing in my mind what I wanted to do, I went for it again. And suddenly I was on my back again.

This time I heard a low chuckle come from near the house. I looked up, and Billy was watching from the porch.

“Nice form, son.” He said with another chuckle.

“You are leaning too far back. I think in this case, you might be using a bit too much of your strength. Let gravity do most of the work, just a little push forward until your legs are in the air.” 

"Sure, sure," I said while getting to my feet and positioning myself again.

My feet left the ground with the tiny amount of pressure I used, and I placed my second hand down, then...

“Ouch,” I said as I fell again, even though it didn’t really hurt.

“That was way better, though! You’re a good student!” 

We spent the next half hour, or maybe it was longer, practicing our cartwheels. Once I got that down, Leah showed me what a roundoff was.

I brushed dirt off my palms, grinning. “Honestly? Harder than a backflip.” v

“Next we’ll practice somersaults,” she joked, and Billy laughed in the background. I looked over, and it was the first time in a while that I had seen a real smile on his face.

 "Jacob." A voice that wasn't Leah's called out behind me. Sam had returned. Suddenly, all my panic came flooding back—I hadn't even realized it was missing. I'd been so occupied having fun with Leah that I'd had actual moments of peace for the first time in weeks.

My eyes drifted over to her, and she was smiling. She nodded and walked towards Billy. Oh, she was good. She'd known exactly what I needed—a distraction. 

“Hey Sam, what happened?”

He put his hands up, “It went well. I mean, as well as it could have.” 

“Can I see?” I asked.

“Yeah, let's go. Leah, you come too, I want everyone to be up to date.”

“Bye, Dad, I’ll catch you up later.” 

“Don’t worry about me!” He called out as I entered the trees.

As soon as I felt the phase rip through me, I began to see memories of what had happened at the meeting with the Cullens. 

There in the clearing were two of the Cullens standing side by side. There was who I can  only assume was Carlisle Cullen and another much larger vampire with black hair. I learned that his name was Emmett and apparently considered Bella to be ‘like his little sister,’ which was odd, but through Sam’s memories, I could tell that he wasn’t being an asshole; he really meant it. 

Next, I saw Sam confront the coven leader with the information about Bella’s fears and Jasper’s influence, and was relieved to hear that Jasper was no longer in the area. Not that I totally believed him, of course, but Angela hadn’t mentioned the blonde teen vamp in any of her stories. 

Carlisle didn’t seem to be lying either, which was frustrating. He seemed genuinely shocked at the fact that Bella was my imprint. Yet, he was still too dumb or delusional to realize his son had jumped off the deep end and was holding a teenage girl hostage. 

What's up with the beefy dude? Leah asked, Why was he smiling so much?

Honestly, I have no idea; he didn’t talk much besides that, but his face gave a lot away. Sam replied. Apparently, he thinks of Bella like his little sister. 

You’d think if she were like a sister to him, he’d actually use his eyes. Jared said.

They only see what they want to believe. They think she chose Edward, so everything else gets excused.  I piped up, aggravated about this detail of the meeting. If he cared so much about her, he would’ve done something by now.

Classic. Leah’s thoughts were razor-edged. Let’s just ignore the drugged-up, sleepwalking girl as long as it fits the narrative.

So now we just wait? I asked, unable to keep the frustration from bleeding through.

Sam glowered at me. Yes, we wait. I never promised that we’d jump right into action. We need to make calculated moves.

Okay. I replied,

Okay? He repeated, surprised.

Yes, Sam. I agree with you, all I ever wanted you to do was take this seriously. Now that we have some movement towards something, I feel a bit better.

Sam mulled over that for a moment; there were waves of insecurities in his thoughts, but he locked them down tight. It seemed like he had an easier time keeping his thoughts from us when he wanted to. Maybe it was an alpha thing.

So what now? Jared asked.

We wait, we keep observing. Let’s schedule a more regular patrol for her. Jacob, you pick which you want, and then I’ll have Leah and Seth patrol the rest of the day. 

That was… unexpected. Oh, yeah? That’s great. Thanks, Sam. He had made a complete 180 in his opinion on the matter. However he got to this point, I was grateful.

Sorry about that. Sam said sheepishly, I convinced myself there was only one right way, and I didn’t want to see anything else. That’s on me.

“I get it,” I said, and I meant it. We’d both screwed up in different ways, but at least now, we were trying. “I’ll take the night shift.”

Chapter Text

Jacob POV

After Sam met with the golden-eyed leeches, Billy and the council finally agreed that we had to let Charlie in on the secret for Bella’s sake. My gut said it was about three weeks too late, but better late than never, right?

The council decided that Charlie, a longtime friend of two council members and the chief of police, could be trusted with their biggest secret. The problem was, Billy and Sam cooked this up without telling me. So by the time my brain caught up that it was "go time," Charlie was already pulling his cruiser into the driveway.

Sleep was hard to come by these days, so I was in a deep sleep when I heard Charlie’s cruiser pull up. Peeking out my window and then at the clock, I saw it was midday. Charlie should’ve been stuck at the station at this time, not here.

I stumbled into the living room, finding Billy and Sam already there, voices low. “A heads-up would’ve been nice,” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

Sam shot me a look. “I thought you wanted this to happen sooner rather than later, Jacob?” he snapped, annoyed. 

Charlie’s loud, insistent knock on the door cut off any further argument. Time was officially up.

“Come on in, Charlie,” Billy called out, as I flopped onto the couch next to Sam, trying to look casual.

Charlie walked in, looking even more strung out than usual. His face was pale, his eyes had that tired, distant look.

“Billy. Jake. Sam.” Charlie nodded a quick greeting to each of us. “What’s going on? I gotta get back to the station.”

Billy gestured to the empty loveseat. “Thanks for coming, Charlie. Can you take a seat?” Charlie eyed us, suspicious, but he sat. His arms were crossed, like he was ready to bolt at any second.

“Charlie, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound… unbelievable,” Billy started, his voice smooth as glass, trying to act all casual. “But for Bella’s sake, I need you to have an open mind.”

“O-kay?” he drawled, sounding like he already regretted coming.

Billy shifted in his wheelchair, his voice deepening, taking on the old, powerful tone he used when telling the ancient stories around the fire. It was full of authority and wisdom, the kind that made you believe. “In our culture, there are legends that are passed from elder to elder, long before the written word ever came to these shores. The Quileute people have always known that the world isn’t just what you see. There are things older than time, and deeper than reason.” Charlie had heard Billy spin a yarn before, but I could tell he was totally lost, wondering what the hell this had to do with anything.

“Long ago, we were not always men,” Billy continued, his gaze steady on Charlie. “Our ancestors could shed their skins and become wolves, spirit warriors who protected the people, watched over the land. That gift was given to us in times of great need, and only awakens when that need rises again.” 

He paused, letting the words hang in the air. Sam shifted, a little antsy, next to me.

“We share these stories from generation to generation, not only as a reminder of our culture and history, but because some of us still carry this magic in our blood, even now. The spirit of the wolf lives on when it’s called; either by danger, by duty, or by the very call of the land.”

“And the danger,” Billy’s voice dropped, serious now, “comes in the form of creatures we call the ‘cold ones.’ They are unnatural creatures, pale as death, eyes often blood-red, stronger than any human could ever be. And worst of all, they drink human blood.”

Charlie’s face was beet red, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. He looked like he was about to explode. “What the hell is this, Billy? I thought you said this was about Bella?!” he practically roared. 

“Charlie, please, just let him finish,” I cut in, trying to keep my voice calm. “This does have to do with Bella.”

Charlie grunted and then gestured for Billy to continue.

 “Seventy years ago,” Billy picked up, his gaze unwavering, “a group of these vampires came to the area. And the young men of our tribe… well, they started turning into wolves. But this coven of vampires claimed they were different. Said they only drank animal blood and valued human life. So, the wolves made a careful treaty with them: they could live around Forks, as long as they didn't bite or drink from a human. But they were required to stay off Quileute land altogether.” Billy glanced at me, a quick, almost imperceptible flick of his eyes. 

This was the tricky part, the one that was gonna hit Charlie hard. “The name of the leader of that coven was Carlisle Cullen.” Billy let that hang in the air for a moment, watching Charlie’s face.

If Charlie had been red before, now his face was completely drained of color, pale as a ghost. I swear, he looked like he was about to pass out right there on the loveseat. “What?” Charlie croaked, finally finding his voice.

“In 1936, the Cullens arrived in the area and made a treaty with our ancestors. It triggered the wolf gene in my father and a few others,” Billy continued calmly. “After they left, there was no need for any of our boys to become wolves.” Billy looked at me sadly, almost apologetically. “Unfortunately, when they returned last year…”

 “Returned?” Charlie interrupted, his voice incredulous. “You mean to tell me you think that the Carlisle in your story is the same Carlisle that is here today? The doctor?” 

“The very same,” Billy confirmed, his voice serious as a heart attack. “And their return… It triggered the wolf gene. And now, Jacob and Sam here, they are protectors of our tribe from the cold ones.”

 Charlie just sat there, mouth agape, blinking like he couldn’t process it. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“The Cullens are vampires.” Sam said simply, “And we are wolves.” 

Maybe in another situation I would’ve found Charlie’s stunned face comical, but right now I was betting my entire life and my heart on him believing what we were saying. 

“Charlie,” I jumped in, trying to make him see, “Bella spends a lot of time around the Cullens. You’ve met them, haven’t you found her boyfriend…” I growled out the word ‘boyfriend’ like it tasted bad, and Charlie shot me a look, “...a little strange?”

Charlie started darting his eyes in between the three of us, looking flabbergasted.

“We have suspicions that they have Bella under some sort of control.” Sam continued for me, “They never leave her alone for long. Haven’t you noticed?” Sam asked, and I found it a bit hypocritical for him to say that considering how long it took him to admit it.

Sam realized too late that that was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Charlie shot to his feet, yelling. “Of course I’ve noticed! But what the hell is wrong with all of you?! You know how much I’ve been struggling with Bella lately, how worried I’ve been, and now you’re playing games with me?! Telling me there’s vampires and werewolves, and…” He started stammering, pacing frantically around the room. “I can’t do this.”

Charlie stormed out of the house. I was on my feet in a flash, following him. “Charlie, wait!” I called, racing after him.

“No, Jake. I can’t do this. What you’re saying is…. Well, it's insane.” He was already at his cruiser, fumbling for his keys. I lunged, putting myself between him and the door.

“Now, son,” Charlie said, his voice flat, his cop-face on. “I don’t wanna pull the cop card, but if you don’t get out of my way, I’m taking you with me… in cuffs.”

“Please,” I begged, my voice cracking, sounding so desperate it must have gotten through to him, because he stopped trying to shove me aside. “Bella is in trouble. I know it sounds crazy, but you know she’s been acting weird, not like herself. You remember how she was after they left. They affect her, and it’s not natural.”

Charlie sighed, rubbing his face with a weary hand. “Look, kid, I know you’re worried about her, and upset she isn’t speaking to you. I am too, but this…” He waved a hand back toward the house, presumably at Billy. “…this is crazy.”

“Please,” I said again, my eyes filling with tears. It all seemed so hopeless, but if we could just get Charlie on our side… “Please. Let me prove it to you.”

He studied my face for a long minute. Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and mortifying, but I didn't care.

“Fine.” 

A huge breath escaped me. “Look, please don’t freak out at what I’m about to do next. I can’t spare another set of shorts.”

“Huh?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. He barely got the word out before he started yelling as I backed away and yanked off my pants. “Jake, what the fuck?!”

Then I phased. 

The pop of bone and ripple of fur came fast, faster than the scream that died in Charlie’s throat. One moment I stood there in human skin, trembling with adrenaline. The next moment, I was a towering wolf, my giant form looming over a trembling Charlie. The cruiser keys dropped from his hands and hit the gravel with a sharp clatter.

“Jesus, Jacob.” Sam’s voice, a low rumble from behind me, cut through the moment. “Phase back, please. You made your point.” I snuffed in agreement, a little nervous as Charlie propped himself against his cruiser, looking a little green.

“Come on inside, Charlie. We have more to talk about.” Billy’s steady voice called from the porch.

I was already back to being human, the phase coming much more easily now than ever before. I pulled my pants on quickly and walked over to Charlie. He was still standing there, shocked and silent. He shuffled away from me as I came closer.

“I wouldn’t hurt you, I’m still the same old, Jake. I just, well…”

“He protects us, Charlie. He protects your girl every day from those vampires she calls friends,” Billy cut in, his voice calm, rational.

“Oh my god,” Charlie groaned out, his legs trembling. I offered him a hand, but he slapped it away. “I can walk, just give me a second.”

I chuckled and headed inside. I was hungry, and if we were going to continue this conversation, I would need some energy.

Charlie came back inside a few minutes later, face pale and jaw set, like a man marching into a courtroom he didn’t want to be in. He didn’t speak at first. Just sat back down in the same seat he’d jumped out of earlier, this time slower, heavier, like gravity had doubled its grip on him.

Billy didn’t press him. None of us did.

I poured Charlie a glass of water and set it down on the coffee table in front of him.

Charlie drank it like it might contain answers. He let out a long breath, one hand braced on his knee. “Okay,” he said finally. “Start from the top. Everything. I want to know exactly what’s been happening to my daughter.”

We told him as much as we could.

Sam handled most of it. He was calm and careful with his words. He laid out what we knew, how the Cullens came back a few years ago, how the wolf gene activated in response, how Bella had started acting strangely again after they returned and how Edward Cullen hadn’t let her out of his sight in weeks. I explained to him that the reason I hadn’t tried to come over to talk to her in person was because every time I did, Edward or one of his little cronies was there to stop me.

Charlie flushed red at that and went on a rant about “only I get to decide who can’t come near my house” and “you should’ve taken care of him right then and there.”

After he calmed down, Billy explained the treaty again, this time more directly: that we were forbidden from attacking the Cullens unless they broke it. That technically, they hadn’t yet, but the way they were manipulating Bella? It was coming dangerously close.

I explained what I witnessed myself, Bella’s strange behavior, Angela’s calls, Edward’s words to me when we spoke in the woods outside his house.

When we reached that part, he asked, “Why were you talking in the woods outside the house?” 

I shot a glance at Sam, and he nodded. “Look, Charlie, I hate to break this to you, but when Bella goes to sleep at night, Edward slips in and hangs out in her room. He doesn’t leave until you come check on her in the morning.”

Cue more ranting and screaming expletives about the goddamn nerve of some people. “Who does he think he is, sneaking into my daughter's room?!”

“Charlie, if it makes you feel any better, I stay outside your house all night long. My hearing is good enough to know that they just talk and sleep.”

That did seem to help, and he calmed down a bit, but still ranted under his breath about disrespect.

“So you think her behavior is because of them? How?” Charlie asked finally when he calmed down enough.

“Honestly, at first I thought it was one of Edward’s siblings who was manipulating her. Jasper. According to Bella, he has the power to manipulate people’s emotions. That’s why she took off to save Edward.” Charlie’s face contorted in fury again. “Bella told me when she came back that it felt like her feelings of guilt were amplified, and that's why she agreed to go with them. She never wanted to and tried to stop it.”

Charlie took a few deep breaths to try and rein in his anger. “And why don’t you think that’s what’s happening now?”

“Well, he hasn’t been seen around, not by Angela at school, and Carlisle claims that after he learned that Jasper manipulated her like that, he sent him away.”

“He knew?” Charlie yelled, “He knew what that little twit did to Bella?”

I nodded seriously. “We just confirmed that last night, when Sam had a meeting with the Cullens.”

Sam proceeded to explain the meeting and what had been discussed with Carlisle. 

“So what do you think is happening to her?” Charlie asked.

“Honestly, Charlie, I can’t say for sure. It’s like when she’s with them, she just zones out. It’s as if she’s on autopilot or something. I don’t think she really knows what’s happening around her. Her friend Angela confirmed that is how she is all day at school.”

“Why didn’t she just open up to me about all this before?” Charlie asked, a frown tugging at his lips. 

I leaned in, wanting to ease his worries. “You’ve got to understand the kind of pressure she was under. First, the Cullens were all over her about keeping everything quiet. Then they took off, and I bet she thought no one would even believe her if she spoke up. And once she figured out what I was, it just got messier. It wasn't just about her secrets; it was about mine too. That’s a lot to handle, you know?”

Charlie’s eyes were full of tears. “So, what can we do? I can’t go on as normal when she’s in trouble like this.”

“You have to, Charlie.” Billy’s voice was firm. “For now, we need to come up with a plan after we hear back from Carlisle. These are dangerous creatures with powerful gifts.”

Charlie buried his head in his hands, and I put a hand on his knee. “I promise I will do anything to keep her safe,” I promised him.

“I know you’ll handle it, kid. But this whole thing isn’t fair to you. You’re just 16. And Bella…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to keep everything together and act like it’s all normal.”

“Just try your best. For Bella’s sake,” Billy urged. “Jake and the others will keep an eye on her. They have been for the past few weeks.”

“If I find that jerk in Bella’s room, I’m going to shoot him,” Charlie said suddenly, a spark of his old self returning.

“As much as I like the mental image of that,” Sam interjected dryly, “it’s more likely to ricochet off of him and bury itself in you. You don’t understand how strong they are.”

Charlie blanched.

“I think that's enough for today, Jake.” Billy said, “Do you want to help him get home?”

“No, it's okay, Billy. I gotta get back to the station. Besides, I have to act normal, right?”

“Right.” I agreed.

Charlie stood slowly, glassy-eyed and heavy, like every word we said had pressed weight into his bones. He nodded to Billy and Sam without speaking and then turned to me. 

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “I trust you with her. Even with this whole..." He paused awkwardly. "...wolf thing. I know you love her just as much as I do. Even if she doesn’t know that yet.” He said, and I was taken aback, and a warmth glowing from my chest radiated through me. Charlie just gave me a knowing smile.

I walked him to the door, watched him drive away without another word.

Back inside, the room fell quiet. The kind of quiet that settles after everything’s been said but nothing feels solved.

Sam crossed his arms. “At least now we have eyes on her inside the house. He’ll call us if anything changes.”  He sighed, “I worry that despite my best efforts, this might end up in a fight. So Jacob, let's get outside and start training Quil up. He’s still new and needs some guidance. Are you up for that?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” I replied, trying to hide the fear from my voice. Sam saying those words sent a chill through me. I didn’t want it to come to a fight, not because I was worried we couldn’t take them, but because I was worried they would hurt her before we could stop it.

The air was thick with the scent of salt and pine, the sun hanging low and lazy behind a curtain of clouds, as I followed Sam out the front door, and the screen slapped shut behind us. I stripped down and felt the first heat ripple beneath my skin, my thoughts weren’t on the fight Sam was planning for. They were on her.

Bella.

I didn’t know how to save her. And it killed me to fail at the one thing that I was built for. Protecting humans, and protecting the love of my life, my best friend, my imprint. But no matter what happened, I would keep trying to find my way back to her, until my last breath.

Hold on, Bells, I thought. Just a little longer.

Bella POV

Voices surrounded me, but all my senses felt like they were being filtered through a wall of static. I had the sense that whoever was speaking had been arguing for a while.

“Edward, why did you feel the need to keep this from us? You know I’m always here for you, but holding things back creates unnecessary complications.”

“I didn’t think it was important; the boy is obviously mistaken. Bella belongs with me.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t tell us because you know you’re in the wrong.”

“This is none of your business, Rosalie. Why do you even care anyway?”

"It's my business when you're making idiotic decisions that will put us in danger, again. Besides, you have no right to control who Bella sees and who she talks to."

“Who said I was doing that?”

“Oh, please, Emmett told me everything that wolf boy said.”

“You believe some mutt but don’t believe me?”

“I believe Emmett, and if Emmett believes what the man said, then so do I.”

“Since when did you develop such a keen interest in what's best for Bella?"

"Since when did you stop caring?"

The silence that followed was deafening. The cold marble hand that had been holding mine suddenly jerked away with surprising force. I watched, dizzy and confused, as bronze and platinum hair blurred past me in a collision of fury.

“Please stop fighting!” A soft voice came from the other side of the room. Esme, maybe?

I blinked hard, trying to focus. My stomach twisted as the Cullens’ living room came into view; the sterile white couch beneath me felt unfamiliar, and the room was too bright. A spike of nausea rolled through me. 

How was I here? The last thing I remembered was lying in Edward's arms in my bedroom while Charlie clattered around downstairs making dinner. I'd only wanted to close my eyes for a moment. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t let myself fall under that strange mental fog again.

Panic coursed through me again. I ground my nails into my palm, using all my mental strength to stay grounded. 

“Bella?” Alice’s voice was syrupy-sweet but pitched too high. She perched beside me, her perfect posture stiff, eyes too wide. “Are you okay?”

"How did I get here?" I hissed quietly, knowing every enhanced ear in the room would catch the words. Had we been in a car? A hallway? There was a faint memory of cold fingers lacing with mine, of Alice’s voice murmuring something I didn’t understand…

"What do you mean, Bella? We came here together after school," Alice said slowly, like she was talking to someone who might break.

My pulse started hammering against my throat. "What day is it?"

The arguing stopped completely. Seven pairs of golden eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my chest tighten. The attention felt suffocating, predatory.

Esme glided forward, her maternal face creased with worry. "Bella, dear, did you hurt yourself? Hit your head perhaps?"

"I..." The words wouldn't come; my mind was clearing, and terror was creeping up my spine. I was surrounded, outnumbered, completely at their mercy. Seven vampires, and I couldn't remember how I'd gotten here or why I'd ever felt safe among them.

"I want to go home," I whispered.

In an instant, Edward was across the room and reaching for me. I scrambled backward on the couch, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. I tried to hold my breath.

“Bella, love. What’s wrong?” His voice was velvet and honey, but it only made the panic worse.

"Don't." I threw my hand up between us. "Please don't touch me." 

The hurt that flashed across his perfect features might have broken my heart under different circumstances. Now it only made me more desperate to escape.

"Edward." Emmett's usually jovial voice had gone dangerously low. He was staring at his brother with an expression I'd never seen before. It was calculating and cold. “Give her some space.”

"Perhaps I should drive you home," Carlisle suggested gently.

I shook my head frantically. The thought of being alone in a car with any of them made my stomach revolt.

Carlisle tilted his head in confusion. “I thought you wanted to go home?” 

“Obviously, she doesn’t want us near her,” Rosalie observed, her tone almost clinical. 

"Bella, please." Edward took another step closer. "Tell me what's wrong. Let me help you."

I jumped up from the couch so I could move farther away from him. Mustering up all the courage and energy I could, I pinned my eyes to his, “Stay. The fuck. Away.”

“But, Bella…”

"Back off, Edward." Rosalie's voice cut through the room like a blade. "For once in your existence, pay attention to what someone’s telling you."

Edward had a dumbfounded expression on his face; he had probably never been caught off guard in this way before, but I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. The fear was radiating throughout my body, and an intense pulsing heat radiated from my chest.

Emmett moved with careful deliberation, placing his massive frame between Edward and me. "Rose and I will take her home." A confusing wave of relief washed through me.

"Bella, please stay." Alice's voice was small and broken. "We can figure this out. Can't we? Help her, Jas."  

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Emmett said dangerously.

I gasped when I realized that Jasper was standing just behind me. "No." The word tore from my throat. "No, no, no..."

I bolted. The front door was a white blur as I crashed through it, my legs carrying me toward the tree line. Branches caught at my hair and clothes as I stumbled into the forest, my lungs burning as I gasped for air that felt too thin.

I made it maybe twenty yards before my knees gave out. Collapsing against a moss-covered log, I risked a glance back toward the house. Would Edward follow? Would he touch me, make me forget again? And if Jasper came too… 

My breathing was quick and fast, loud in my ear as I intensely tried to listen for any indication that I had been followed. Nothing. In fact, the forest seemed to have gone quiet.

Forcing myself upright, I staggered back toward the driveway. The winding road stretched endlessly ahead, and I knew I'd never make it home on foot. My legs felt like water, my vision swimming with tears and terror.

I sank to the gravel, pressing my palms against my eyes. The scent of wet cedar filled my lungs, sharp and earthy. My knees ached from the gravel, but the pain was real, and it grounded me.

“Bella.”

My scream sent birds exploding from the treetops. But eyes focused again, I realized it was just Emmett. He was leaning out of his Jeep, his usually cheerful face grave with an emotion I couldn't name. 

"Hey," he said softly, like he was talking to a wounded animal. "Let us take you home. I promise just home. Nothing else."

Unable to get up right away, I sat there on the ground for a few minutes. I had the feeling that Emmett was avoiding touching me, or else he would’ve picked me up and put me in the car himself. 

A blazing heat in my chest came out of nowhere, like someone had struck a match inside me. Jacob.

I shoved my hands into every pocket; jeans, jacket, jeans again. Nothing. I could feel my breathing start to spike.

“Your phone broke weeks ago. You haven’t gotten a new one.” Rosalie said simply, but there was an undercurrent to her voice that said there was more to the story.

With newfound motivation, I got to my feet and slid into the backseat. My backpack was there, so I grabbed it and hugged it tightly. That was until I realized it smelled like Edward, and I quickly pushed it away from me. 

“I’m sorry, Bella,” Rosalie said as Emmett began to drive. 

“Huh?” shocked at her kind tone.

"I'm not sure what's going on with you, but if what you said inside is any indication, I'd guess you have no idea what's been happening for weeks."

I gulped. She was right, “What day is it?” 

“The 30th”

“Of March?” 

The car was silent for a moment before Emmett spoke up, “Of April.”

“WHAT?” My voice cracked as the word escaped me, and a sob tore out before I could stop it. Then another. My chest seized as if I’d been punched. Each breath came out jagged and wet.

Everything outside the spiral of my fear, shame, and horror blurred. Then, too soon to make sense, I heard Charlie screaming and realized I was home.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” He sounded enraged, and I had never heard him swear like that before.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Rough hands picked me up softly and cradled me to a warm chest. His voice rumbled right against my temple. “If I see any one of you near her again…” He trailed off, but his intention was clear.

“Shh, baby, it's okay.” He said softly, brushing my hair against my head as he entered the house. The door banged shut behind us. It was loud in my ears, and I winced.

Inside, the air was warm and filled with faint traces of dinner, old coffee, wood polish, laundry detergent, and the scent of home. He sat down with me in his arms and just held me there like I was a little kid. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and after a while, my sobs quieted. 

The physical toll of the crying hadn’t allowed me to really think about what had happened, and now that I calmed down for a second, it all came flooding in.

“Please,” I said hoarsely, “don’t let them come near me again,” I begged Charlie. 

He was quiet for a second. “I won’t, I promise.” His voice was thick with tears. 

I paused for a long moment, gearing myself up to tell him a truth that would change everything. “He sneaks into my room at night, Dad.”

Charlie went completely stiff at my words, and I felt him tremble beneath me, almost like a wolf would before a phase.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.” I started crying again, “It wasn’t my choice, I never asked him to…”

“Shh, it's okay, Bells. Has he…”

“No, no, it's not like that.”

Charlie didn’t respond; he just rubbed my back as new sobs tore from my chest. 

After what seemed like hours of crying in his arms, he carefully shifted me onto the couch and stood. The lamps cast warm, golden pools across the floor. It felt like the first time I’d seen color in months.

“Stay here and rest. I’m going to make some calls. I’ll be right there where you can see me.”

“Okay,” I agreed, “Will you call Jacob?” 

Before he could respond, there was a sudden knock at the door. Charlie’s eyes narrowed, and he eyed his gun on the rack, but his shoulders slumped and he didn't reach for it before he answered the door. 

I couldn’t see who it was, but when the door opened, relief replaced the tension in his voice. “Jesus Christ, son. I almost shot you.”

“Can I see Bella?” came from a rough and husky voice I knew by heart. 

When Jacob stepped inside, the world shifted back into place. There he was, standing shirtless in my living room. The sight of him soothed my aching heart. He looked flushed from running, and his dark eyes were frantic and full of something that undid me.

"Jacob!" I cried, stumbling to my feet. He caught me in his arms and buried his face in my neck. My hands wrapped around his neck, and I pulled him closer. We collapsed to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Jacob was gripping me so tight it almost hurt, but if he ever let me go, I felt I might die.

The texture of his hair against my fingers, the heat of his breath on my skin, the hard beat of his heart against me felt like fireworks to my nerves after what felt like forever without feeling anything at all.

My sobs returned in shuddering waves, but this time, they came from a place of relief. And when I stilled, I realized he was crying, too. His whole body was shuddering, but not the usual vibration that came before a phase; this was something else, it was devastating.

I pulled away from him just enough to look at his face. His handsome features were streaked with tears, and his eyes were so intense on me that it felt like my heart skipped a beat. 

“I thought I lost you,” He choked out, and more tears spilled over onto his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” It was Charlie who spoke. I looked up, and he was leaning against the doorframe near the entrance to the living room. 

"He's right, Bells. Those freaking bloodsuckers are to blame for this. Not you." He surprised me by gently kissing a stray tear from my cheek. It sent flutters through me, and the feeling was so welcome, I wanted more of it.

Then his words truly registered, and I whipped my head up to look at Charlie.

"He knows, Bells. I had to tell him." Jacob said, his voice soft.

“So you know…everything?” I asked Charlie, my voice a whisper.

“Yep. Honestly, I wish I didn’t, but Jake was right to tell me.” 

“Did you know about Edward coming into my room?” 

Charlie ground his teeth. "Yes, but I only found out about it yesterday,” He sighed in resignation, “and Jacob said you were always being watched. I couldn't make any moves until we had a plan locked down. It killed me, Bells, knowing he was in my house, in your room."

I was confused, “Didn’t Edward realize that you knew he was here?”

“Why would he?” Charlie scoffed.

“He can read minds.”

Charlie straightened, alarm sharpening his features. “HE CAN WHAT?”

"Uh, Bells. I didn't exactly get into all the nitty-gritty details," Jacob said with a slight chuckle, scratching his head.

"Thanks for the warning, Jake." He grumbled out.

"There was nothing you could do to stop it, so I didn't want to panic you," Jacob replied with a shrug.

Charlie just shook his head slowly, a look of disbelief on his face. "So he… he could hear me thinking about how much I wanted to kill him?"

Jacob bellowed out a laugh, “Yeah, pretty much. Unless you’re like Bella, she’s the only one who is immune.”

“Bells?” Charlie looked at me for confirmation.

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and unease. “He can’t hear me at all, but Edward once told me that your thoughts are muffled; he can’t hear you as clearly as everyone else.”

Charlie blinked. “Well, that’s one hell of a comfort at least.”

Jacob stood me up, guiding me to the kitchen table. Everything felt strange and more real than it had in weeks. The cool tile, the wooden chair under my thighs, the warm air from the heater brushing my skin.

“Is there anything for her to eat?” Jacob asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, and started rummaging through the fridge. He pulled out a couple of containers of leftovers and started heating them up. The fridge door creaked, containers clacked against each other, and the hum of the microwave filled the silence.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked Charlie, wondering if he was upset I kept so many secrets from him.

“I’m not mad at you, Bella. Jake explained how much pressure you were under, ” Charlie said, affection in his tone when he said Jacob’s name. He sat down next to me, putting a hand on top of mine. “Yesterday, Billy called and said he had something important to tell me. Asked me to leave work in the middle of the day, which wasn’t like him at all. Said it had to do with you, so of course I went.” 

When the timer dinged, Jacob pulled the container out and spooned the hot lasagna onto a plate. The metal rang against the ceramic with a sharp, clean sound. He set it down in front of me, along with a glass of juice, and the smell of sauce and cheese wafted up in the steam. I inhaled deeply. Even the smell of food felt like a gift. 

“When I got there, Jacob, Billy, and Sam Uley were all sitting there staring at me. Honestly, it felt like an intervention.” He laughed, “But that's when they explained what the Cullens were.”

“And you believed them?”

"Hell no. I said they were all crazy. In fact, I was mad that they wasted my time." He paused. "But Jake, he wouldn’t let up. He blocked my car and begged me to have an open mind. Said he was desperate to help you and that I needed to understand the way things really were."

I took a bite of the hot lasagna, and the flavors were delicious, which only amplified the fact that I’d been living in dull hell for the past month. Eagerly, I picked up my juice and took a sip, ready to experience more flavor.

“And then he exploded into a wolf,” Charlie finished.

I choked on my juice and spewed it all over the table. After my coughing died down and a few dramatic eye rolls from both Jacob and Charlie, I turned to glare at Jacob.

“You could’ve given him a heart attack.”

“Nah, your old man is tough. Give him a little credit.” 

“Yeah, Bells. Give me a little credit.” Charlie repeated with a soft laugh. They were acting a little too casual now, probably for my sake.

For a while, I focused on eating my food while Jacob and Charlie quietly discussed things around me. I was horrified at the thought of how much I had missed, and couldn’t believe that Charlie now knew everything. But I knew it was for the best; I was tired of keeping secrets. 

Eventually, they told me what had happened over the past month while I was experiencing life like a zombie. There were bits and pieces I remembered, but my memories felt like they were locked behind fogged glass.

According to them, I hadn’t missed work. I showed up for every shift at Newton’s. I rang up customers, stocked shelves, and answered phones. No one complained. School was the same, I turned in my homework, got decent grades, and my teachers hadn’t raised any alarms. I’d been functioning just fine, at least on paper.

But that was the problem. It was all mechanical. 

Charlie said I hadn’t spoken to many people outside him and Edward. No phone calls. Barely any texts. Angela had stopped by the house once, but I refused to see her. I couldn’t even remember that happening.

I nodded along as they explained, even when the details didn’t land quite right. I could picture myself at work, in class, walking the halls… but it was like trying to recall a dream. The color had been drained from everything. I had moved through each day like a body on autopilot.

When Jacob told me what he had been doing the last month, I was horrified. 

All the attempts to talk to me, including calls, texts, and eventually showing up at the house. He said when he tried to come over and into the house, Edward or one of his siblings was always outside, ready to stop him. He said it felt like they were keeping me imprisoned in the house. He tried any way he could to see me, but Edward was always one step ahead.

I shivered at the thought of all that we both went through. My eyes started to feel heavy and I realized I was extremely tired. 

“Get some sleep, Bells,” Charlie said while he stood up to clear our plates. “We can talk more in the morning.”

The look on my face must have been one of horror because he set the plates back down and softly grabbed my shoulders. “ I won’t let them near you.” He turned to Jacob, “Will you stay with her? I’m not exactly equipped to confront a vampire.” He said regretfully. 

Jacob nodded. 

“The door stays open,” Charlie said sternly, and Jacob laughed. I was too tired to care about the insinuation. 

“Come on, Bells. Let’s get you upstairs.” He reached down and picked me up in one swoop, putting his arm under my legs and cradling me to his chest. I put my arms around his neck and breathed in his pine scent. 

As we walked away, I heard Charlie on the phone; it sounded like he was updating Billy.

When we got upstairs, Jacob carefully lowered me to the ground in my bedroom. I looked around, and everything seemed to be in place, but it was sterile, as if it had barely been lived in. There wasn’t even any laundry in my laundry basket. 

“I need a shower,” I said tiredly, and my nose wrinkled, “I feel like I can still smell him on me.”

Jacob gave me a look that I couldn’t interpret.

“I’ll be right here.” He said, and sat down in the chair in the corner of my room.

As I stood under the hot water of the shower, my thoughts, once a muddled mess, began to clear with painful precision. There was more crying, but this crying was different, a tempest of emotions: the overwhelming relief of finally breaking free, the searing betrayal of those I had trusted, and the mortification of imagining how I must have appeared to everyone at school and at work.

I desperately tried to piece together the shattered fragments of my memory, searching for an explanation. Edward had never affected me like this before he left; had he always been capable of such manipulation, or had my love for him blinded me to his true nature? Jasper, I recalled, was involved at certain points, but his presence was typically confined to interactions with Alice, not Edward. 

Why would Edward do this to me? He claimed he loved me, so why would he allow this to happen? How could he let Charlie suffer for so long? How could he let me suffer?

As the water ran cold, I understood one thing with absolute certainty. 

Edward Cullen was a monster.