Author s Note: Hello, everyone! There s a few things you all should know before reading, so there s no confusion. J This was originally a part of a story I had starting writing a couple of years ago that I lost interest in for a few reasons. Life was hectic, I wasn t totally inspired by my ideas of where I wanted it to go, and it just fizzled out. I was digging through my old stuff and found this chapter and thought, hey, this could work as a stand alone so I don t feel like I completely wasted my time. :P I deleted the rest, so this won t go anywhere beyond a one-shot. And as for the mentions of a dream that Jake has had, don t feel bad being out of the loop. I m posting this for the sake of the fact that it s just a nice little lemon. Might as well let someone else enjoy it instead of trashing it. But, I ll quit blabbing and let yuns get to it! Love, love.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I only claim the madness.

Cry Little Sister

A last fire will rise behind those eyes.
Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie.
Immortal fear, that voice so clear.
Through broken walls, that scream I hear.

Cry little sister, (Thou shall not fall.)
Come, come to your brother, (Thou shall not die.)
Unchain me sister, (Thou shall not fear.)
Love is with your brother, (Thou shall not kill.)

Blue masquerade, strangers look on.
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum,
Deep in your veins, I will not lie.

Lets fire come to me,
Cry little sister, cry for me.

My Shangri La I can't forget,
Why you were mine, I need you now.

Cry Little Sister, Seasons After

Siaquaw, Ohio.

Fucking sunshine... That was my first, semi-coherent thought as the back of my eyelids were set ablaze by a crimson glare, officially ending my snoozing session. I tried to dissuade my consciousness from making a come back by rolling away from the offending window, blindly groping for another pillow to shove my head under. Even if I should have been, I wasn't surprised when what I found instead was an abnormally warm, feminine arm. Well, hotter than your average, non-shape shifting variety.

With my usual reluctance, I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the sleeping face just a few inches from mine. I knew who it was, but the why was what escaped me. Still, that didn't change the fact that this wasn't the first time and no one was willing to lose on a bet that said it would be the last, either.

I blew out a sigh and rolled onto my back, throwing my forearm across my eyes in a feeble attempt to shut out some of the sunlight pouring into my cramped bedroom. I say "cramped" only because when you're six-feet and seven inches tall, pushing two-hundred and twenty pounds, any room becomes significantly smaller. Not to mention, we, (the pack and I,) we're living in an ancient farmhouse. The place was spatially challenged, falling apart despite our best efforts, and closely resembled every other residence we'd taken up in the last sixty years. Who said wolves weren't creatures of habit? No, but seriously, I knew why we gravitated towards these old, rural homes. It had less to do with the fact that we needed a place of seclusion to phase freely and more to do with our desire to live in places that resembled what we were all used to. Despite the long years, decades even, that had passed since leaving La Push, our hearts had never left the reservation and our childhood homes.

The direction my tired thoughts had taken called my attention to the heavy feeling in my chest that I hadn't noticed, and clouded images swirled behind my closed eyes. I felt my recognition stir, but it was still sluggish from my recent lack of sleep. I let my head lull towards the nightstand where a digital clock's blue, glowing numbers had just rolled over another minute. It was three'o'six in the afternoon. Yeah, that's right, three'o'six in the afternoon...

I'd been on patrol since the beginning of the night before, all the way up until the stars began to fade from the Ohio sky and the sun drifted over the Pennsylvania line.

As a pack, that being myself, Seth, Leah, Embry, and the twins Collin and Brady, we had decided to settle down in a rural, southwestern part of the state of Ohio. The Till Plains stretched far and wide all around the outskirts of our property, and the tiny, dust speck of a town called Siaquaw. The Ohio River was less that fifteen miles from our twenty-seven acre property line, separated by what they called "The Bluegrass Section" and the nearest, sizeably populated city was Portsmouth or Hillsboro, depending on how the crow flies. And even then, they were well over one hundred miles to the north and the east.

We held regular jobs like the rest of society when we moved from state-to-state, town-to-town, but our areas of free-range patrol had widened significantly after leaving La Push in the beginning. There was no steel band of obligation to hold us so tightly confined. Hell, Seth and Embry had gone as far as the Appalachian Plateau in one shift just a few nights prior; tracking down some leech with a taste for Iroquois natives! Like most Native Americans, there just ain't enough of us left hanging around as it is. When you've been in the game as long as we have, the confidence in your ability grows considerably, lending more justification to one or two wolves being so far out of help's way. And yet, no matter how hard we tried to maintain an easily detached relationship with the people surrounding our temporary homes, enabling a certain level of efficiency, it eventually became evident that our roots were growing too deep and our attachments to the towns hindered our cause. And so, we'd pack up and move once more, searching out our next hunting ground.

Again, I suffered from an overwhelming sense of forgotten purpose as I thought of our next move. For weeks I'd been feeling anxious, having already discussed the possibility with the others. We weren't certain where we were headed this time, but it always came together in the end after doing a few weeks worth of researching strange disappearances, abnormal animal attacks, and so on and so forth. Sixty years later, and the world still blamed this shit on wild animals; bloodsucking, parasitic, wild animals... As if those existed outside of Africa!

I lifted my hands to my face and rubbed vigorously, trying to dislodge the images that plagued me. As I let out a groan that sounded more like a rumbling, inhuman growl, stretching my weary muscles from head to toe, a vivid picture of Billy's face flashed before me. Like the domino effect, the images rearranged themselves and started anew, replaying the very real, very poignant dream I'd had only hours earlier. The recollections were powerful, numbing, and urgent, as well as bittersweet and mocking.

My brow drew down in a frown as I folded my arms behind my head and stared at the yellowed ceiling tiles above me. I knew better than to disregard the life-like dreams I had every few years. They came as visions of foresight and guidance, and it only took the suffering of the consequences of one, discarded dream to make me a believer. My father had called them "Dream Walks," and he'd often stressed their importance.

My surroundings faded away as I took a step back into that foggy, cramped forest. It all disappeared, from my double-sized bed, the feminine scent drifting from under my blue and grey plaid comforter, to the sunshine spilling in from outside to wash over my rickety old dresser. In its place sprang vibrant ferns and black, spirit-like figures shrouded in mystery. Sam was there, standing beside my father, and I couldn't deny them what they asked of me. But how? How could I take my pack, my family, and return to the place I had fled so many decades ago? How would it feel, how would we explain ourselves to distant family members of whom were two generations removed, what was there waiting for us?

I had just begun to ask these questions of the ghostly apparitions surrounding me when I felt a warm, gentle touch sweep across my abdomen, sending a ripple that went straight into my brain. The memory faded, and my shabby room with its wooden floors and poorly papered walls came back into view. Just in time too, because a sexy, sleep-abraded voice successfully stole what was left of the intensely personal moment.

"I've seen that look before..."

"What look? I don't have a 'look'," I replied, trying to play it off as though I hadn't been thinking about going back to La Push. I glanced down to find a pair of large, chocolate-colored eyes studying my, no doubt, surly expression.

"Yes you do. It's that intense, 'Alpha' look you get when you're trying to make up your mind about something."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to dissuade her from taking this conversation any further than I cared for it to go at the moment. Besides, her long, black hair was rumpled from sleep, framing her dually delicate, yet defined features, spilling over her bare shoulders to conceal the firm swell of her breasts as she lay on her stomach, head propped on her upturned palm. Why was I disappointed in myself for feeling a coil of desire twitch within my loins? Oh, right. I'd done it again. A weighted mind could do that to a man.

"Sure, sure. But most people say good morning when they wake up next to some one, Leah. They don't start in with the questions until after breakfast." I hadn't meant to sound as harsh as I did, but with my desire to get up warring with my desire to pull her to me, both in an effort to deflect her questioning until later, I was suddenly feeling a bit tense.

Obviously, she called a spade a spade and combined my urges into one as she pushed herself to her knees, her back arching to push her rounded ass into the air as she stretched like a feline after a long nap on the back of the sofa. "It's three-thirty in the afternoon. It's too late to say good morning and we've missed breakfast but, you're right. I shouldn't be asking questions. The rest of the pack will be back in an hour and a half," she all but purred as she threw a leg over mine beneath the blankets. I suddenly remembered why Leah and I often took our patrols together; the rewards after a long night of hunting bloodsuckers were fan-fucking-tastic.

Neither of us had on a stitch of clothing, so as I reached up to graze my fingertips down her sides, I felt nothing but satin flesh before I took her by the hips. Leah's body was long and lean, defined by discreet, yet powerful muscles. Her strength was subtle in comparison to my own, but it could prove deadly for some one of the more human caste. Regardless, she was a vision of perfection as she lowered her face to mine, bringing our bodies flush with one another. The sun set her copper skin on fire with a golden luster, and I wanted to taste the rays of light as they touched her.

Don't get me wrong; these weren't the musings of love. These were the musings of wanton lust. Something Leah and I had become quite good at. Our sexin' was a fucking art, perfected after a lot of lonely nights.

My hands traveled once more up her body, pausing as my fingertips danced across the underside of her breasts. I traced their full shape until I turned my touch inward and rolled her nipples beneath my thumbs. A warm rush of breath escaped her lips just before they came crashing down on my own. Her reaction, both that of her gasp and her nipples peaking to hardened perfection, elicited a hungered growl from deep within and I raked my teeth over her lower lip.

Leah trembled, and it triggered my most primal instincts. I think I secretly loved these trysts more than I should have because in these moments, Leah was completely vulnerable. She lost her abrasive, strong will and became submissive, needy, and catering to the needs of her Alpha. I loved having my ego stroked.

I should have been happy; surrounded by her satiny tresses, her lips devouring mine as her hands sought to touch and caress every inch of my broad chest; but I wasn't. I wanted the reins of control. I wanted to distract myself from the inevitable announcement I'd have to make to the pack. My erection strained upwards, pressing between her thighs and the spiced scent of the arousal that pooled over my length from her center filled my senses like an overload. I didn't have the patience to play the "touching game."

I wrapped my arm around her and rolled towards the center of the bed. To me, she was feather-light, and she gave a small squeal of surprise as I covered her completely.

A devious smile broke over my lips, twisting it higher in the left corner than the right and I pried one of her hands away from my back, dragging it above her head to hold it there. I drug my mouth down the smooth curve of her chin and grazed my teeth over the sensitive flesh of her neck. She shuddered, and her legs spread further to accommodate the breadth of my hips. I kissed a tender trail down to her collarbone and the head of my dick, slicked by her arousal, pressed against the taught folds of her center. I heard her mewl softly into the sun-soaked air and the sound was so deliciously fragile that I couldn't wait any longer.

"Pushy," she breathed against the top of my mussed head of hair. "You just can't give it up, can you?"

I knew I was growling, I knew my eyes had narrowed into annoyed slits, but all I could manage was a coarse, "Shut. Up."

I rocked my hips forward and plunged into the silken heat between her thighs, just as I bit down on the hollow of her neck. Leah bucked beneath me and her cry was a beautiful mixture of pain and pleasure. I threaded my fingers through her own and squeezed, my free hand holding her by the hip to ensure our closeness. Her thighs held me still for a moment, locked around my waist like a velveteen vice, but I only let her savor the moment for a short time before I snarled against the fresh welt my teeth had left behind. I withdrew from her core, the tightness within never ceasing to amaze me, and I slowly let myself sink back to the hilt. Wolfness had its perks.

Sex with Leah was such an adrenaline rush, mainly because she responded to every stroke, every kiss, as though her nerves were on fire. I heard her whimper, "Jacob...," so sensuously I'd have thought her heart was breaking had I not known any better. One was required to actually ihave/i a heart for that to happen. That was a common question where she was concerned.

I continued to slowly indulge in her slick warmth as I left her neck and began to kiss her full, lower lip, whisking away the labored breaths she let slip between each of my deep strokes. "Damn..." I murmured between kisses. Even after hours of sleep, her breath was sweet and drug-like. The hand that I had on her hip curved around to her ass and caressed the back of her thigh, coaxing it into the air as I guided it forward to increase the painfully delicious tightness of her core.

"Jake, shit..!" Her eyes flew open and sank into mine, momentarily panicked as I plunged into rarely traveled territory, finding the deepest places of her womanhood. I should have been concerned, but something about that look thrilled me and I shuddered as I felt the coil in my stomach tightening in warning of my release. Her back arched from the bed and her teeth peaked over her lip until she relaxed beneath me, beginning to find my new administrations pleasurable.

Her lashes were threatening to hood her chocolate hues and I half-whispered, half-growled, "Don't close your eyes, Leah. Look at me..." A bit of the Alpha, a bass-like duality, had crept into my tone and she obeyed, even as her cheeks flushed a crimson color and her body began to clench and shake all around me. She should have known by now that I liked to see the brown fade from her eyes and turn to ebon, full of lust and desire before she reached her summit, one that I had made her reach. In seconds, she let out a final cry of ecstasy and I let her ride it out, her nails digging into the back of my hand and the tensed muscle of my shoulder.

I knew I was only moments behind her, so I began to pump faster and harder, our bodies meeting with rigid intent until the last convulsion of her inner walls coaxed forth my own release. I let go with a low, throaty moan before she swallowed it with a feverish kiss.

I waited until the last of my orgasm was spent inside of her before I rolled off of her and stretched out on the flat of my back. The silence that followed was neither awkward nor heavy, but I could feel our relationship sinking away, back into its normal boundaries. There were no strings attached to what had just happened, nor would there be any to the next go around. I had slipped into something of a thoughtful coma when at last, I felt her weight subside from the bed, and she gathered a few pieces of clothing from my floor before heading for the doorway. She stopped with her hand on the knob.

"You know," she began, giving the messy, unkempt state of my room a cursory once-over, "You really oughta clean your room. Your dirty clothes are starting to mold." Her nose wrinkled in disgust before she smirked, adding for good measure, "You're such a fucking pig."

I couldn't help but let out an exasperated chuckle of sorts, deciding to just shake my head and reply, "Sure, sure." Then, before I could look back at her, she disappeared with the click of the door closing behind her.

Someone remind me why...?