Never was there a day as beautiful as this.

Actually, there has been many.

It is dawn, and the sun is waking gracefully over the horizon. My skin is glowing, blossoming as it captures the morning light. But this does not interest me. I have seen it a million times before. What interests me is the stunning creature below me, beneath this towering topiary giant; flourishing greenery that puts all other leaves to shame. I stare in wonder at the man I adore – and have adored since I could remember – as he glares back at me, shielding his eyes from the dash of light that I could – but won't – deflect. It could be as easy as peas to move in the way of the light, but I don't, smiling playfully down at him. I have the power.

He looks irritated, frowning before calling my name. I wave innocently. I hear him exhale, exasperated.

"I'm not calling you again. You need to hunt." Jacob calls. I sigh, and then reluctantly do as I am told, stepping off my watching branch and landing simply on my feet when I reach the newly-moistened ground. It feels springy, like moss. I know it isn't. I look up and Jacob is staring at me expectantly.

"Don't get your tail in such a twist," I say. "I was just admiring the view." Or views.

Jacob isn't smiling. "Well, I won't have to twist it, your dad will do it for me. You haven't hunted in weeks."

I roll my eyes. "I'm a big girl, I can last a couple of weeks."

He gives me a look. "Try four." He says curtly.

I groan. "Fine. I'll hunt."

He seems to relax a little. "Thank you,"

"When you tell me what's been going on,"

Jacob stiffens, his nostrils slightly flared. I grin. I know he can't not tell me now, not when he knows that I want to know. And I do. Very badly.

He scowls at me. "That isn't fair," he accuses.

"Never said it was," I counter. Everyone has been keeping secrets from me ever since Grandpa died, and I want it to stop. Or I at least want to be in on it, and not left out. Aunt Rose won't tell me, and Alice certainly won't tell me. Daddy's even stopped playing the piano.

"Your mother will kill me," Jacob mutters, but I know I will get what I want. I always do with Jake. That's one of the plus sides to being an imprintee. You always get as you please.

"Then I'll tell her it was my fault. Please?" I ask sweetly. I bat my eyelashes and put on that whole doe-eyed face. I reach forward and place my hand to his cheek and show him how miserable I am, to be excluded. With a smile I sense him cave.

I get a shock.

"Damn it, Ness, I can't tell you!" He cries. I stumble back, startled. He's never done that to me before. Never denied my desires.

"Why not?" I whisper, not hiding the hurt in my voice. His eyes soften, and he frowns.

"Because," he says. That isn't an answer.

"Because what?"

"Just because, okay? Now leave it. Go hunt, Renesmee."

I blink bemusedly, he only calls me by my full name when he is especially annoyed with me. I turn away from him. "You've changed, too, you know." I mutter.

There is a moment of silence.

And then, "I know."

I turn back around to him as he sighs, pushing a hand through his inky hair exasperatingly. I feel bad for making him tell me when he's so obviously against it, but who else will tell me? No one – that was the answer.

"You want to know why everyone – including myself – is acting so strangely?"

I nod. "And why you're all keeping secrets from me."

"You won't understand," he tells me. I flush with anger.

"You know that is the most irritating thing to hear, ever? You have no idea how patronizing it is."

"Actually, I think I do, and you have no idea how spoiled you're acting right now."

My eyes narrow. He's right, though. My sub-conscious mutters quietly. I know. I spit back mentally. I close my eyes. This shouldn't be happening. I shouldn't be arguing with him – and what's more, with myself. If that weren't perfectly ordinary in my family I'd be worried.

I open my eyes. Jacob is still impassive. I'm conscious that I am biting my lower lip.

"Please?" I breathe.

His stilled features falter. "You look just like your mother . . . Chewing your lip like that."

I laugh once. "I hope that's a compliment."

He looks mildly horrified. "Of course!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Mom is very beautiful and it is an honour to be met in comparison with her." I almost recite, my voice stoic and blasé.

"Jeez, it's unbelievable how crazy-similar you are to both you're parents. They way you rolled your eyes at me? Perfect impression of your father."

I put my hands on my hips and stare him down – or up. "Are you trying to distract me?"

He grins. "Is it working?"

"No. Spill. What's going on?"

Suddenly, serious Jacob is back. "You weren't there . . . but do you remember what we've told you about the army that was formed before your parents got married?"

"The newborn army? Yeah,"

"Well, turns out . . . we didn't get them all. . ."

What? "So what does this mean?"

"It means that if you tell anyone that I told you then I'll get my ass kicked."

"Be serious, Jacob." I bark (ironically).

"I am! You can't tell anyone."

"Do you really think that low of me to think I would? Jake?" I search in his deep-set eyes, past his shaggy hair. He swallows uncomfortably.

"It means there may be trouble. And that's all we know. We're looking into going after her."

A hunt? What if they didn't come back?

I feel unnaturally cold.

Jacob notices and wraps his arms around me. Immediately I feel better, but I don't know if it's his earthy warmth or just because he's near. Mom always calls him our own Sun. She's right.

"Taking advantage of me," he grumbles light-heartedly. I smile shyly.

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

"Well, it's no use now, is it? Now you know."

"Sorry," I say again.

"And I know what you're thinking, and I've been through this before with Bella – your mom – we will come back. Trust me."

"I do trust you."

He smiles.

"So are we going to hunt?" I ask. He nods his big head.

"Yes,"

"Okay – race you!" I squirm out of his arms, hearing his laugh dragging behind for the slightest second as I sprint into the depths of the woods. The bushes and leaves thwack me, slapping my calves, but of course I feel nothing. There is the tear of his clothes and then Jacob is wolf. Wolf is Jacob. And for the moment, with all disturbing thoughts left behind me, I am free.