x-x-x I do not own Twilight, Only Lyla and the plot. x-x-x Smut Content x-x-x

Author's Note: I've revised this to set more in the timeline of the book.

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Early 2006

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Lyla sat on the edge of the ratty old couch in Sam's small two bedroom home. Her hands were firmly pressed together as she stared downward to the worn wooden floor. The girl looked barely fifteen as she neared her nineteenth birthday, her baby faced features contorted in pain as she fought back bitter tears.

"It isn't fair, Sam." The alpha sighed, pacing slowly. He was wearing jean shorts and a black sleeves top. He rubbed at his forehead, growing weary with the argument.

"I know, but there isn't anything we can do about it." Sam turned his gaze to Lyla; his baby sister. She was so damned beautiful; dark skin and raven hair. Her cheekbones sharp and defined with a soft curve for her jaw and sleekness of her throat. She was small, having phased early on.

Lyla cups her face, grabs her phone off the couch beside her thigh and storms from their home. She shoves the item into her pocket and runs off into the tree line. Sam watches her go, unable to stop her. Unwilling to see her cry over something he can't fix.

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She is deep in the forest, far enough away that all she can hear are the animals and the soft trickle of water from the river. Lyla stares at the earth, the pitch black dirt as she buries her toes and fingers into it. Her vision is blurred as she tears up. She wonders she was one of only a handful of women in the Quileute tribe that were phased. Why her?

Lyla hadn't looked anyone in the eye except her brother and mother since her phase. She never looked another person straight on, too afraid to imprint and be bound to someone that she didn't want or like for the rest of her life. She wouldn't even look her pack members in the eye, Seth was especially patient, respecting her wishes.

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2011

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Lyla stood over the La Push cliff, her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail as she watched the water crash over the rocks. The wind blew past her and ruffled the white sundress she wore. Her toes dug into the earth as she breathed deep through her nose. What was she to do now? After the conflict with the Volturi, everything seemed so peaceful. She wasn't accustomed to peace.

It was strange that Lyla felt unsettled with the recent turn of events. She also felt so very useless now, her entire purpose and being since the phase was to hunt and kill vampires and now that wasn't something she was able to do. What was she to do?

"Hey, Ly! Yah busy?" Paul was coming closer, Lyla glanced around. She thought of fleeing to somewhere else, just to be alone. Though she took too long to make up her mind and their he was. She'd never admit that she looked at her pack brothers when they turned away. Her eyes would follow the curve of their muscles and the dip of their bones. Lyla found them all attractive in their own ways, but especially Paul. Their was just something about the shape of his shoulders and strut in his walk.

"What is it, Paul?" Lyla always struggled more around Paul to keep her gaze down and away. She turned her head away as he stood nearby. He smelt freshly showered; his hair even smelt of dampness from said shower. He sighed and shifted beside her.

Paul seemed to pause, she could hear him turn to face her and take a deep breathe. "Lyla, look at me." Those four words sent a deep desire though Lyla to obey. She wanted to look at him, she wanted to see his eyes and his facial structure for herself rather than memories through the pack mind. She wanted something she couldn't or wouldn't allow herself to have.

"No." Lyla took a step to walk away, but Paul's hand firmly took hold of her wrist. She stopped mid stride, she closed her eyes. She wouldn't look at him. "Let go." Paul yanked her in suddenly, pulling her into his chest as his left arm snaked around her lower waist. Before she could form another protest, his fingers were caressing her cheek and tilting her head up.

Lyla stopped breathing, she stopped moving as his mouth fell over hers. She whimpered, it was from the back of her throat and she was trying to make herself move, to resist, to push him away, but something about kissing Paul felt very, very right.

When he pulled away, she tilted her head into the curve of his neck. She breathed hard and deep, trying to reign in her composure. She would not look at him...but he smelt so good and felt so right. Lyla can feel herself breaking, she so badly wants him.

His breath is hot against her ear, "Look at me…" It's a whisper, it's harsh and needy and Lyla still resists. "N-No…"

"Lyla..Lyla, please look at me." The girl can't find words, her throat is closing up with emotion, want and desire. It's happening too fast, it's too much, it needs to stop. Lyla shoves Paul away, she turns and makes it two steps before he tackles her into the ground. He palms the earth to stop from fully colliding with her body. Paul leans over her, nuzzles the back of her head as Lyla wiggles under him. His right hand grabs her hip through the white fabric of her dress, holding her in place as his legs settle on either side of her body; straddling her tiny form without applying any weight to her figure.

"Let go.. please." Her voice is a quiet whimper, he barely hears it even with his wolf hearing. Paul pushes her beautifully dark hair away from the nape of her neck, breathing against the exposed skin as she shifts and whines; feeling exposed and vulnerable to him. "Stop.."

"Look at me, Lyla, one look." She shakes her head, she tries to push off the cool earth, only to be pressed back onto her belly by a firm hand to her back. Paul sighs and shifts himself a little; turning Lyla quickly onto her back. Her eyes are shut tight, but Paul remains in place above her.

"I have all day, night, and many years to come to wait on you, Lyla." He kisses her again, a little deeper and more feverishly. Her eyes swell with tears as she pushes against his shoulders with all her might, though he quickly puts an end to it by collecting both her wrists into his right hand and pinning them above her head.

Paul kisses her until she nips at his lower lip hard enough for him to pull back. She gasps and makes a little wheezing sound; tears streaking the sides of face, her lips and nose lightly swelling. He wipes her tears away with his left hand, his tongue gently licking the salt water from her face on the opposite side.

She still won't look at him, even through the crying and struggling, she won't. He sighs and buries his face into her bust, releasing her hands as he held her waist. "I love you, Lyla… If you'd just look at me, you'd know."

Lyla shakes her head, she coughs as her hands remain in place above her. She breathes deep, but won't move; she no longer has the energy.