©NataliaNicolette

AN: So I've been working on a new Embry story. Oddly enough, this is the scene that I first imagined when I was coming up with this plotline. It inspired the entire thing, so I thought I would give you guys a little taste and see what you thought. It's full of twists and turns and I hope that it's good. To read the full summary, you can check it out on my profile. This is a prologue of some sorts just to see how it all jives with you loves. Hope it doesn't disappoint.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you may or may not recognize other than my own original content. Any original Twilight characters and or plot belongs to Stephanie Meyer and Little Brown Publishing. No copyright infringement intended.

"Cuz I heard the whispered words - within.

You're masterpiece beautiful."

©There For You / Flyleaf

000. Prologue. No Angel of Mine

The steel of the shotgun was heavy in his massive hands. The gentle rain began to pelt against him in a rhythm. It had been days since her death, and he had yet to feel a thing - until now.

Now he felt, broken, lifeless. . . Meaningless.

He'd never been one to pity himself, only one to show pity to others. He had a gift to make things seem less awful than they really were, to make one smile with ease. Where had that gift gone? Why was it that he could empathize with one other's pain, but weeks after he said goodbye to his beloved mother, his only anchor in this world, he couldn't even feel sadness.

For those days it had just been nothing. Not a burn of pain, not an ache of agony - just a dull nothing.

Now, as he stood, feet at the edge of the very cliffs he had scattered his mother's ashes off of, shotgun cocked, locked and ready to fire, he felt it all in one wave of melancholy. The departure of his mother made his heart buzz in pain, the father he never knew made him feel helpless, the absence of someone to captivate his heart made him feel broken down. Without his only confidant in life, he was now meaningless.

His hands shook on the barrel of the physical form of death. It was cold. He was cold. The rain began to ease as he wondered if the gun would actually kill him.

It seemed that death for a werewolf was near impossible. He was built of steel, but so was the shotgun.

Would it work? Would this end the feeling of nothing he'd begun to battle with?

He shrugged indifferently, not caring if it did, testing the limit. Death possibly rested in the trigger, all he had to do was pull.

With shaky hands and a broken demeanor, he raised the barrel, reaching to rest his warm hand on the trigger. It was now that he really thought of the outcome. He would no longer exist if this panned out. He would no longer wonder and hurt, or even feel numb because in all reality being numb was just as bad as being in constant heartache.

He was done.

And he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the clouds thin just barely, the warm sun creating a calm sensation behind the thick clouds. He sighed, tears mottled streaks down his stoic face. He was just an instant away now, ready to beckon the feeling of freedom from this meaningless existence.

His finger trembled on the trigger that seemed so small, yet so large in theory. As the clouds slowly parted in slight, the suns ray beamed through the space.

Embry opened his eyes. He breathed deep one last time, glad that the sun would be the last thing he saw.

And when his finger began to squeeze on the trigger he awaited for what he thought was his fate.

And his fate spoke to him, bright and strong.

"Is this really what you want?" her voice spoke from behind him. Startled by the bystanders raspy, honey like tone, he fumbled with the shot gun, gaining some control and keeping a firm grip on it. He spun, surprised and frightened he hadn't heard her approach.

She stood a head and a half shorter than he, long hair whispering to the wind, honey skin glowing in the disappearing sunlight.

For the first time in his life, Embry was completely at a loss for words. She was glorious, she was beautiful, she was like an angel. His world was sent into a weak spin, as the death he planned now gripped in his unsure hand, and the unplanned future stood before him.

She smiled brightly at him, as if she was not shocked at all that he was here, on the cliff side, about to leave a life of emptiness.

The breath that gave him life was suddenly short as she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon. His head became dizzy as she opened her mouth to speak again.

"You're far to fortunate to leave a life that has just begun." Even knowing that he'd imprinted on this stranger, Embry snorted. It was all to ironic, but the only thing that registered in his mind was the stunning stranger in front of him and how she spoke like she knew everything about him. "Although that choice is yours to make." she gestured to the gun in his hand. "You can choose to leave," the words she spoke drifted to him in the air like smoke, "Or stay." she said simply.

It was amazing that in a single moment, his view of life had changed. This girl was now his life line. His heart was rooted through hers, she was the reason to wake up in the mornings to come. To know her, to hold her, to love her was all the motivation he needed to know that the shotgun was not going to be put to use. He dropped the death contraption with an audible clank on the cliffy surface, breath going shallow.

Before he had a chance to form an educated reply to the girl, Embry's breath was nearly gone, his head become fuzzy as his vision of the angelic girl faded away, his lids became heavy and his mind fizzled to nothing.

The last thing he remembered hearing was the girl's appraisal for his choice. She knew him without him even speaking a word.

As his mind began to slip under the blackness he was overwhelmed with a new sense. The sense of purpose. It was all her.

The stranger on the cliffs, the stranger that challenged his plans of death, the stranger whose smile was like sunshine, the stranger that he fell in love with in an instant - the stranger that gave him a purpose.

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