Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight, and seeing as I ain't her the last time I checked my license (which is lost at this moment), I don't own anything.

Chapter Rating: Rated 'M' for 'Mature.' For the most part, it's just because of how dirty the Pack thinks and talks, not because of sex. If you're wanting that, it's on the tumblr link.

Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Fluff, General, High School, Horror, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Supernatural, Vampires

Warnings: Adult Content, Discriminatory Language, Violence

Pairings: Paul/ Bella/ Sam. Jared/ Kim/ ?, Quil/ Claire/ ?

Summary: When a wolf finds their imprint, so does a pack-mate. Two wolves per imprint. That's the way it's always been. Can these two men work together to ensure their mate feels safe and loved or will their fight for dominance get in the way?

00 - Preface

From my perch on a large bolder hidden in the wilderness, I saw a group coming from the area where most of the tide pools were. More pale faces, a geeky looking Asian kid, and the daughter of Forks' pastor. Nice girl with some wholesome values. All of the boys, except for the nerdy fellow, were all crowded around some girl. I couldn't get a good look at her, but she had to be lovely to get this that much attention.

"It could be Swan's new kid." I heard Jared offhandedly comment as he patrolled around the borders. "I heard Jacob tell Quil that she was gorgeous. And had a nice ass."

Paul would love that. He definitely was an ass man, while I was more of a leg man, and Jared went for the breasts. Tiny breasts at that. Thankfully, the jackass would be asleep for another hour before he had to patrol; I wasn't in the mood for hearing his perverse trail of thoughts revolving around some new girl he wanted to pork. Bad enough he has some girl that he's trying to screw that barely gives him the time of day. Frankly, the fucker deserves it with all the hell he's given other girls.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw the two previously mentioned buffoons approaching the small group of people just as I caught sight of Embry trying to shield someone with a mountain of hair from most of the people crowding around.

While Jacob normally wore a decent shirt, it appeared he wasn't wearing some oil-stained-up jeans. Furthermore, Quil definitely dressed to impress. Those Levis didn't have one ketchup or mustard stain on it them, and I was pretty damn sure that shirt was clean.

"Oh, yeah, if Quil put on clean clothes, she's gotta be hot."

Thank you Captain Snarky.

"Just doin' my job."

Sometimes I wondered why I kept him around.

"Oh, I love you too! Now, we can go run off to Las Vegas and—"

"Shut the fuck up, Jared."

"Fine."

Doing a neck-cracking double-take, Embry gaped at his friends…before leaving the girl with the pastor's daughter and the Asian boy.

"What the fuck?" I heard Embry mutter to his two friends as he ran up to them. "Quil, you're not fucking my sister. Get over it. Jake…for the love of God."

At least I wasn't the only one noticing what their change in attire meant.

"What? Dude, no. I haven't met her yet, and I didn't want her to think I was a fucking mess."

Then he needed a change in his lifestyle, not just a new shirt.

Quickly, I phased back to my human form, relishing in the feel of my body snapping back into place. It seemed that Paul was the only one to prefer the form of the wolf to being in his own body. Never was I so thankful to have dressed in public-friendly clothes this that morning instead of my normal cut-offs.

As I approached the group, the most wonderful scent hit my nose. A mixture of freshly cut strawberries, a newly opened vanilla pod, and a flower I couldn't name. My cock hardened in my jeans to incredible proportions. Fuck, this that was worse than reliving when Jared had to sit in his English class every day because some girl smelt good enough to eat. I wouldn't be able to turn away now; she smelt too fucking good to ignore.

The scent belonged to the newcomer. Chief Swan's daughter. Dear God, she was absolutely gorgeous, and her body was amazing. When the sun's rays graced her body her thick, dark brown hair took on another note, hinting at a bit of red. It probably neared her rear—just an inch or two above touching her ass—and if it were to be straightened out of the mass of curls, I knew a handful of inches would be added to that impressive length.

It was piled, or an attempt of at a pile, onto the top of her head in a messy bun that was barely held in place with the black and silver beaded scrunchie she used. Then there were her mile long legs—legs that would probably fit just right around my waist if she were to crawl up my body like a tree. Those same legs had thighs that were as thick as my biceps. Until then, I had never seen the personification of the definition of 'thunder thighs'. Spirits, how I'd love to sink my teeth into the meaty flesh next to her little jewel box.

Then, just as I thought she couldn't get any better, she turned, trying to decide which section of driftwood she should pick to sit at on. Those hips were wide, prime and ready to bear a man's child. Oh, how I'd love to grab ahold of those as she was bent over a counter or the edge of my truck—it didn't matter what—as I speared her with my sex.

Her breasts were full and heavy; a couple of handfuls, even for my mammoth hands.

She looked up, giving Embry a smile and a hug as he returned to her side. I couldn't quite catch her eyes, but I most definitely saw that stunning face of hers.

She had classic features: high cheek bones and skin like translucent ivory. Along with ones that typically featured in erotic fantasies: dark pink, plump lips that were too wide for her face, and thick, feather duster eyelashes that didn't even need mascara. Then, there were those cute attributes, like her little elfin ears, a slim nose, and blushing cheeks.

Briefly, I noted that her bottom lip was a bit fuller than the top. Her eyebrows were thin but full with little arch unless she quirked a brow, and her arms were long, much like her legs, but hers didn't have extra flesh around the biceps like her thighs. Her fingers were slender, and her feet were tiny, possibly a size five. If that.

I fell out of my stupor as Jacob guided her to a seat next to the pastor's daughter. Daintily, she took her seat in the circle of driftwood logs with plenty of open space to her right for her brother and his two friends.

Michael Newton, a bratty boy I couldn't stand, served this walking-talking sex scent a platter of food while Embry tried to fend off others that tried to do the same for her. It seemed as if every boy was dying for her attention in some way. Even me. I felt like I was fifteen again with a crush on a pretty girl in my class while she took notice of everyone but me. That had been an awkward year in my physical development.

With so many people at the beach, it would be a little difficult to get her away from the three musketeers. Especially since Jacob had obviously taken an interest and Embry was her relative. I wasn't sure how Billy's boy ever thought he'd get a chance to woo her with Embry's protective instincts going haywire.

Apparently, she found the burger Mike picked out for her to be less than satisfactory. She picked at the food around it and refused to touch anything the hamburger meat came in contact with.

Taking the seat beside her, one I knew to be Embry's, while the Mouseketeers were dealing with the black boy that had come along with the group, I asked her, "Don't like your food touching?"

Immediately, she responded with, "No. A…and it isn't that. I'm a vegetarian. I don't eat anything that had blood in it."

Her voice was dark and husky, reminding me of those women in the older black and white movies that play on AMC once in a while. Was there anything about her that wasn't primed to represent sexuality in the most perfect of forms?

There was a grimace as she took a bite of potato salad. I could smell the onions, so I could already figure out why she didn't care for that. Next up was the coleslaw, and she didn't like that either. The same with the baked beans when she took notice of the bacon, so she settled for stirring it around her plate and mashing it up into smaller portions so it looked like she ate part of it.

"I think I saw some rolls when I passed by the table. Would you like me to get you some?"

She shook her head, some tendrils of her brown curls coming loose from the bun and shaking along with her. "No, thank you though. I packed a couple of sandwiches in the truck just in case." Setting her plate down next to her brother's, she softly whispered to her friend about needing to go to her truck for something before getting up.

I trailed after her like some kind of love sick puppy, intent on at least introducing myself. And maybe getting her number.

Would, 'you're really pretty and I think I'm in love with you because you smell like you're ready to bear a couple of kids' work as an effective pick up line? Probably not. Wouldn't want her to break her hand slapping my face.

She had a great deal of difficulty in opening the truck door, yanking on it repeatedly until I bumped the edge of it with my hip and it popped open for her.

"Thanks," she said as she tried to lean over the seat to get to the little cooler that contained the food she brought.

From the smell of it, I'd say it wasn't anything I had ever eaten before. Cream cheese, lemon, light amounts of a few different herbs, spinach, and French bread.

"So, uh," Think Sam. Make some kind of witty comment. And don't mention the weather. "Did you like the tide pools?" Should've told myself not to sound like a stalker either.

Pausing in assembling her sandwiches, she looked up at me. Finally, my eyes caught hers. I was dumbstruck.

Numerous times, I heard about it from our elders; heard about it through our legends; but nothing had prepared me for the action itself. Imprinting. Everything that had ever meant a damn to me was cut away—those little ribbons tied to the balloons of what I considered important.

Reading Mark Twain, caring for the tribe, eating breakfast.

Snip, snip, snip.

My pack brothers, my house, my mother's grave.

Snip, snip, snip.

All of it was replaced with an indestructible cable rod that pierced through my heart to tie me to her. I fell to my knees before her, awed by the knowledge of her existence—by the sight of her magnificence. Much like how gravity kept the moon revolving around the earth and the planets revolving around the sun, the rest of my life revolved around her. No one mentioned anything about that. The feeling. The needing.

She is everything thing that is, was everything that was, and will be everything that will be.

Sure, we'd heard about feeling the urge to be around her, protect her, and love her. There was nothing in the journals about the need to worship her. That little slip of a girl was forever my sun and moon. To hell with protecting the tribe—all I needed was her.

Author's Notes: New story! I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. As much as I love Jasper, I also love The Pack. Tell me what you think.

Also, this chapter has been edited/beta-d by the wonderful GeezerWench.

There is a link to the blog for this story on my profile. It has pictures and links to stuff.

Review! Please?