Disclaimer – I own Nothing.

A.N. – Thank you all sooooo much for all of your kind words! Seriously, I'm floored at the response this story has gotten! I know this story might be going a little slow for some, but I really want to try and develop the story along with the characters. I want there to be growth, and for that to happen, some aspects have to go slowly. But, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as the last two, and don't forget to Review! :)

Note: I will be posting a Jacob/Bella fan video on youtube soon. My name on Youtube is LoverGurrl411 (just like here). Feel free to check out my other videos, and show some love there! :D

To TiffaniW, Guest (1), booklovur217, echo58, sweetsouthernsongbird, corkykellems, Teresa, lunasheart, Guest (2), Anonfan101, twin268, cullenfan5, Nightshadekiller, Me, Jooheika: I sincerely want to thank you guys from the heart. I seriously never update so many times in one month, but your kinds words have inspired me.

Also, an awesome thank you to all who have followed, favorite, or simply read silently. I know some might think it's not much, but it really means something to me that you guys take the time out of your busy schedules to read my work.

/If you ever need me, just tell me and I'll be there.

Cause I was built for you, yes, I was built to carry all your feelings.

Cause I won't let them know; I won't let you go, baby.

I don't care what your past is, I don't need no answers, just have faith in me

Don't you know your secret's safe with me/

-Safe With Me, Sam Smith

Chapter 3 – Higher and Higher

"Mom, I think I'm going crazy!" I confide to my mother. It's been two weeks since Jacob started picking me up in the mornings and dropping me home after school.

It's been two weeks almost, but every time I see him, I feel as though it's the first time. My limbs quiver, the fire burns bright like the North Star, and the pull tugs ferociously. After two weeks of warring with the pull and the fire, I finally gave in and called my mom.

"Between the two of us, I highly doubt you'd be the one to go crazy, honey," Renee jokes. The fire explodes and I want to smash the phone to pieces. Everything's always a joke to her.

Inhale. Exhale. Relax. But the fire only dissipates slightly. Something's wrong. But what could possibly be wrong? I touch my thighs and arms, taking stock. I'm perfectly fine. Charlie's downstairs watching the football game. Something's wrong. But nothing's wrong. I'm fine.

"Okay, silence is never a good sign. What's wrong?" Renee finally realizes that I'm very serious.

I know that I can't tell her the whole truth; it's too crazy for me to believe, let alone my mother—that I'm a part of something greater than myself. Even though I won't say it, I feel it. It's in my bones, the same way that Jacob is in my soul. No! He's not in my soul. We've only re-known each other a few weeks.

"There's this guy—" I start.

"Oh, a guy. Well, that certainly explains this conversation," Renee cuts in, in true Renee fashion. "Do I know this guy?"

"It's Billy Blacks son," I respond irritated.

"Oh he was a cutie as a baby. Is he just as cute all grown up?" Renee gushes.

Her question only warrants a simply yes or no, but I can't help it. The pull spreads, and suddenly I feel a sense of overwhelming pride.

"More like beautiful," I find myself responding. "He's everything any girl could possibly want."

"So what's the problem if he's everything?" Renee asks. The surprise in her voice is clear at my forward words.

I throw myself back, lay on my back on the bed, and stare at the ceiling. For a moment it's as though I'm not talking to Renee, but all the spirits of my ancestors. I'm talking to the countless dead spirits of women who have wanted as badly as I want. I talk to them, and seek their counsel. I talk to a higher being that has a solution to bring me peace from the pull and the fire.

"The problem is that he is everything," I say timidly. I'm unsure if I'll make sense. I'm worried that I'm the only woman to have felt something so fierce and overpowering. Maybe I'm defective somehow, and feel too deeply. But, maybe not. "When I see him I feel this—this emotion. It's like I'm on fire for him. But then when he's gone, I'm aching, waiting for him to come back. I'm burning from the inside out when he's not near me…I want him, and this isn't like how Barbie loved Ken when I was a kid. This is raw and consuming. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do because, in some sick, and twisted way, I like wanting him the way I do. I like the fire I feel and the pull that's like gravity when he's around…Am I going crazy?"

I close my eyes in wait. Let the world do what it will. If I'm crazy, I'll take it. I'll accept it, as long as I continue to feel this connection to him.

"Honey, I'm sorry to tell you," Renee pauses for dramatic effect and my eyes snap open in fear. I know I'll accept it, but I don't want to be crazy. "You are not crazy."

"I'm not?!" I sit up suddenly and dizziness assaults me.

"Nope," Renee's smile pierces through the door. "You've got your first adult crush! Everything you're feeling is perfectly normal, and nothing that every other woman hasn't felt."

Her words should comfort me. Her words should make me feel light as a feather. But all I feel is sharp something. I can't even explain it to myself. Maybe I didn't explain it correctly. Perhaps…everything between me and Jacob is like the universe: immeasurable, unnamable, unparalleled, and emblematic to the way soul-mates work.

But we're not soul mates. We barely know each other. Unless we are, and I'm in denial. Denial, because I'm going crazy.

Maybe I'm crazier than I thought, and all I can find it in myself to say in response is, "Oh."


It's Friday morning, and I'm waiting on the steps in front of my house. Charlie left a few minutes ago headed to work, and asked me how long I planned to wait for Jacob. I hadn't answered.

Jacob's late. He's never late, at least, not since I re-met him. I don't know about before. It seems almost impossible that there was a before. Before we re-met. Before we touched. Before gravity fell beneath my feet, and I started feeling these imperatives.

I see Jacob's bike coming down the block, and relief and hope spike inside of me. He's here. But it's not him. I know. I can see with my eyes the physical differences, but none of that matters. I know, deep inside of bones. The pull is coiled tight, in anxiety. He's nowhere near me.

"Hey," the guy on Jacob's bike pulls up. "You're Bella?"

I nod, and clutch my books tighter. Logic rules me, but my shoulders relax. Whoever he is, I can trust him. Whoever he is, he won't hurt me. How can I possibly know this? I can't. But I do. Safe. Family. He's not family. I've never met him before a day in my life.

I'm making myself dizzy with confusion, and I sway a little. This guy is in front of me, holding me by the elbow, steadying me, within an instant.

"You're alright?" he asks, anxious.

"Yea, I'm good," I try to reassure him. He needs to know that I'm okay. But not in the same way Jacob needs to know. It feels different, even though I don't know how. Jacob's is more apprehensive, while this man's need is simply concern…but…

The fire boils inside of me, and the pull tugs fretfully, but it sends waves of calm through me.

Jacob is sending me waves of calm. He can't. There's no such thing. But I feel the wave like I feel the fire when it's not mine.

"Who are you?" I ask shyly. I don't want to seem too rude, but he hadn't introduced himself, yet. But if I'm honest this is just a formality. I know who he is. Family. He's not family. Safe. He could be a serial murderer.

"Paul," he lets me go. "Jacob couldn't make it today, so he sent me to take you to school."

"Oh," I say, disappointed. "It's fine, I can take myself."

Paul simply shakes his head, and says, "orders are orders," as though that explains everything. It doesn't, but something in the pull knows that it does explain it all.

He goes to hop back on the bike, but I can't let this be the end. Where's Jacob? Something's wrong. Nothing's wrong. I don't have some psychic connection to him just because I like him, I huff at myself.

I grip by books a bit harder, and find myself asking, "Where's Jacob?"

"He's at the Rez, handling some stuff," he doesn't explain what the "stuff" are, and I don't ask. His serious eyes intimidate me a bit. Family. Safe.

The fire lifts inside of me, and my hands reach for my chest. I breathe deeply, trying to get it down to a simmer, but it's not my fire. I try to steady my eyes on Paul, but when I do, his eyes penetrate me. He see through me, and I know that he understands the fire.

He doesn't rush me, and I smile gratefully when the fire calms down some. He doesn't smile back, but he nods in kinship.

He gets on the bike, and I climb on behind him. The pull practically purrs, it feels so comfortable. Family. Safe. No, not family. But perhaps safe. I do feel safe, like I'm with an extension of Jacob.

I shake my head, to try to clear it. I must be losing my mind if I'm making connections with total strangers. He drives fast, but my heart doesn't race in fear. I'm not afraid because I am safe. The wind whips past me. My heartbeat is slow and steady. I am free. I am riding the waves of the wind, and I am lost among the strands of time for the five minutes it takes us to get to Forks High.

I hop off and steady my wobbly knees.

"So, you're Jacob's friend?" I smile timidly. Family. Stop. Inhale. Exhale. Fire. Breathe.

"More like brother's really," he smiles a little. He must not smile a lot because he doesn't have any laugh lines (not even light ones), but he has a glorious smile. If Jacob is the sun, then Paul would be the moon, bright in its darkness.

He looks past me and I follow his gaze to Lauren. She doesn't notice me and I'm able to really observe her for a moment. If want had an image, it would be her eyes. I blush, and look away, uncomfortable with witnessing such realism. But when I look away, I see Lauren's emotions reflected in his eyes, and I am captivated with the thought that others could see how much I feel for Jacob.

I go to speak, but the Cullens arrive, and Paul's reaction is instantaneous. Whereas Jacob always glances at them, almost in warning, Paul tenses and a low growl rumbles in his chest.

"Are you alright?" I ask, but I know. He must feel what I feel when I'm near them.

"Yea, just really hate those fuckers," he doesn't tear his eyes away from them. It's as if he's watching their slightest move – from the twitch in their hands, to the stretch of their limbs as they all get out of their cars.

I blush at his language, but I understand the feeling. I hate them, though I don't hate them. It's the fire and the pull that flares and tugs me away, as though they were Death itself.

"Jacob told me that he's got some problems with them," I fish for information. I let the fire, which flared when they arrived just now, give me strength to be so bold. I know it's none of my business. Paul might think I'm nosy and not worthy Jacob's affection…

Maybe I am nosy. The heat in my face intensifies at the realization.

"Not just him," Paul explains, as he maneuvers his body at an angle where he's shielding me but still keeping the Cullens in his vision. Why? Protect. I don't need protection. Family. Safe. The pull and knowing is going to be death of me, if I'm not insane.

"The Cullens aren't allowed on Quileute land. Their ancestors…well, let's just say that they were monsters," Paul tries to explain the situation. He says "ancestors" with a twist of his mouth, like there's some private joke.

"What does that have to do with Jacob?" I ask shamelessly. If he's willing to tell me, I'm willing to listen. I'm willing to do anything to understand Jacob more. To know him more. More.

"Jacob's the future chief of the Tribe. He feels the pain of the past like you wouldn't believe," he says somberly. I read his eyes. I read what he's not saying. I know.

"You feel the same pain, too," I keep my eyes wide open, hoping that he'll see that I just want to understand. I want to discern that I'm not crazy. And even if I am crazy, I want the comfort of knowing that I'm not alone in my craziness.

"Yea," he lays his hand on the crown of my head. "Yea, ays his hand on the crown of my head. "hat he'of the past liek lmost in warning, Paul tenses and a low growl rumbles in hisI do, too. We all do."

"Who's we?" I ask like whiplash. I don't feel uncomfortable with his hand on my head. Safe.

Suddenly he pulls me into his embrace, and I am cocooned. I am wrapped in the warmth and safety of kinship. Paul whispers fiercely in answer, "The Pack. Family."

Shock ripples through me. Pack. Family. How did he know what's inside of me? How could he know? But he doesn't know. He can't. Even I'm not that deranged.

The hug only last a moment, but in that moment Paul inhales my scent deeply, much like Jacob does. But when Jacob does it, heat and passion cover my skin like a second layer. When Jacob inhales my scent, it's as if I'm being torn apart by yearning from the inside-out.

Paul's inhale simply relaxes me. I am safe. Family.

He lets go, and hops back on the bike. I didn't realize that the bell had rung and almost everyone has already gone inside.

He revs the bike up, and looks at me, inside, to the pull and the knowing, and smiles lightly. Safe. Family. And just like on a swing-set, I spontaneously smile back. I smile so big that Jacob could feel it wherever he is, if he feels me like I imagine I feel him.

My smile stays with me as I walk into the building and to the first class of the day – Math.

I smile because Paul is Safe. Family. Pack, whatever that means. And it feels good. So good, to know that I'm connected to Jacob in a whole new way, even if it's only in my mind.

The pull agrees, and together, we accept that which we cannot change; Jacob is everything, and I don't ever want to go back to before.


Classes fly by, and as I walk to biology, Jessica rambles on. I want to listen to her, I do, but my mind wanders and she's perfectly capable of handling conversation all on her own, I've noticed. A chill sweeps me, and I shiver.

I've been having bouts of shivers all day—Mike had even tossed me his sweater earlier, he could tell I was cold. But this coldness, it's deep inside of me. It's more than the wind or the air. It's in me. The cold lies in the space Jacob is inside of me.

Or maybe, I'm simply underdressed for the weather.

"Are you coming tonight?" Jessica asks me.

"What's tonight?" I ask, slightly dazed from my inner knowing. Something's wrong. I've given up denying it.

"I'm throwing a party up at the creek, are you coming?"

I shrug, smile lightly, and say, "maybe." What else is there to say? I might come if Jacob would go with me. My pull jumps in joy at the thought, but then it coils and reminds me that something's wrong. My smile disappears, and we walk into Biology.

Edward, who had been missing from class after that first day, sits there. I cringe slightly, and feel guilt swim in my veins. He's done nothing to me. Jacob hates him. But I'm not Jacob. Family. Pack. But even though I'm not Jacob, I am loyal, and Jacob told me to steer clear.

But how to steer clear when our seats are right next to each other? I walk slowly to my sit, hoping to come up with a solution. It's too late. I sit down, and the fire rages like a storm in the Bermuda triangle. I breathe deeply and clutch at my textbook like it will safe me from damnation.

"Hello," Edward speaks. He speaks to me. I'm shocked—the first time we sat next to each other it was clear we both had some major issues with the other. Now, he's not moving away from me, but leaning towards me. The more he leans, the more the pull wants to yank and spring me to the other side of the room.

I won't be controlled.

"Hi," I say awkwardly. Go away, please, please, please. The pull and the fire are driving me more insane than I think I already am.

"Isabella, right?" he asks. He smiles a crooked smile, and I realize that he is handsome. Not more than Jacob though. Never.

"Yep," I breathe deeply, but his scent assaults my nose and it's repugnant. I don't bother to correct him. I don't want him ever saying my real name. Like we're friendly, like we're anything at all. I gulp, and try to breathe through my mouth. I hope he doesn't notice, but right now, there's too much and something's gotta give.

"I'm Edward Cullen," he introduces himself, and holds out his hand for me to shake. He's very formal, which is a fresh change, but I can't. My entire body locks up, and I remember Jacob's words. Steer clear of them. The fire insists that if I touch him…

"Yea, I know who you are," I glare at him, and he removes his hand. He leans away from me for a moment, and I can finally breathe. I'm not a rude person, but I can't help it. The fire won't let up, not even an inch right now, and it's his fault.

"Did I do something to offend you?" he asks politely. His politeness grates on my last nerve—whoa! It's the fire and the pull making me so aggressive. I take a deep breath and try to situate myself.

"No, sorry," I start. "Just having one of those days, you know?" I lie. I can't possibly tell him about the fire or the extreme desire to rip his head from his body. Great, now I'm turning into a serial killer.

"Of course," he says smoothly. Too smoothly. I try to control the frown, but it creases my forehead anyway.

Thankfully, the class begins and I can focus on something else besides that scent and the fire and the pullanything except the man who is descendant from monsters.


After, what I am now referring to as the incident with Edward Cullen, I run out of the classroom like demons are chasing me at the heel. Mike and Angela catch up to me and I shrug away their concern. I'm fine. I'm fine. Just filled with too much of Jacob, that's all.

The day passes by like lightning in the sky, and suddenly I'm outside, realizing I have no car to take me back home. But I know that someone will pick me up. Knowing has become comforting to me.

"You need a ride?" Tyler asks me, and Lauren simply eyes me, waiting. I want to look away shyly, it's simply my nature. But the fire I had been feeling all day long has me restless, and knowing that something's wrong with Jacob has got me on edge.

I know her feelings for Paul and I don't want confrontation, but I don't look away.

"No, I'm sure that Jacob or one of his friends will swing by to pick me up," I smile tightly.

"I saw Paul drop you off this morning," Lauren says slightly bitchily. "Did you jump ship, Bella?"

The passive me I've always been wants to give awkward long winded answers, but I just don't have it in me. Not now. Not when something's wrong, and the Cullens are watching me. Why are they watching me?

"He's practically Jacob's brother," I stare her down. Look away, look away, and she does. I feel a pride that isn't mine, but in a way it is. This pride is akin to the one that assaulted me when I gushed about Jacob to Renee. It's linked to the fire and the pull.

I see the apology on her lips, but I shake my head. I understand. She smiles apologetically, sheepishly, instead, and it's good enough.

Paul pulls up on his bike, and it feels like everything is connected. We are all connected. Family. Safe. Pack.

"Ready to go?" he says, and I look to Lauren.

I understand her possessiveness. I think we understand the fire, and I want to give her a minute alone with Paul. Maybe her fire will ease, but I can't. I want to see Jacob. I need him to replace the cold.

"Yea, but…" I stumble over my words, but I grip my textbooks. "Can you take me to Jacob's place, instead?"

He smiles, nods, and I hear Lauren's intake of breath. I understand. She is illuminated for a moment, and I let her have it. I feel guilty for not giving her more than that, but something's wrong.

I put my textbooks in my bag, and hop on.

Paul inhales my scent and freezes. He turns to me, and looks me up and down.

"Did the Cullens corner you?" he asks fiercely. I instinctually lay my open palm on his neck, and shake my head.

"Edward Cullen is my biology partner," I try to smooth. He hasn't unfrozen yet, and I know he wants to go over there and demand that he change his seat. "Just let it go. It's one class."

He breathes out, and says, "you're gonna have to take a shower."

Everyone's talking around us, ignoring us, and yet I feel eyes. The Cullens are still watching me, and the fire flares. I look away, unnerved. I breathe deeply to calm the fire and I smell myself.

"Yea, guess so," I concede to Paul. Perhaps I do smell like a little like Edward Cullen. With my acquiescence, Paul takes off to the reservation.

Miles and miles of road stretch beneath me, but I am safe. I am free. I am finally going to see Jacob.


We arrive in front of Jacob's house, but I worry that he isn't here. I feel silly, coming all the way here without warning.

I get off the bike, and begin to walk to the front door, when I see a shadow in the woods. I change my course, and I walk towards the shadow that slowly becomes clearer. Jacob.

But he is unlike I've ever seen him. Whenever he picks me up he's always in long jeans, and tight black or white t-shirt. He's always composed and relaxed. But this Jacob is in cut off shorts, and shirtless. This Jacob has ashes and blood covering his torso.

This Jacob is still mine.

And I walk over to him, without fear, without anxiety. He notices me, and I can see the struggle in his face.

We reach each other. My book bag falls from my hands.

"What happened to you?" I ask, my eyes roving his entire body. Lava enters my face, seeing how powerful and sexy he is. Mine.

"Got into a fight," he smiles sardonically. There are secrets in his eyes, but I can wait. I can wait forever to know those secrets. No, not forever. I barely know him as it is, to make such a decision. Family. Pack.

"Your eyes," I reach for his face, but his hands grasp them midair. His eyes are amber, strikingly so. I see something in his eyes, something that feels so similar to the fire and the pull.

"You shouldn't see me like this, Bella," his voice vibrates through me. He's as dominant as I've ever seen him. I want to turn away and run. I want more.

"How? Real?" I step closer to him, and invade his space. I could care less about the blood and ash that covers him. "I—I want to know you."

"Fuck, Bells," Jacob pulls me into him by my hand. I fall into him, and suddenly his lips are on my cheek and neck, and everywhere. I feel the pulse in my body like explosion. More. More. Please.

I can feel him barely holding everything together, and I can't decide whether or not I hate how out of control he is. The pull wants him to lose all control.

He goes to push me away, but I throw my arms around him neck, and cling to him. "Don't Jacob. Please," I whisper. I don't make any sense, but he understands me anyway. He understands, and I can feel the space between us disappear.

His lips find mine, and I am floating. I am lost in him, and I am him for a moment. We. There is no pull or fire or imperative. There is simply us, whatever that means, but I feel it like I've never felt anything else.

His fingers dig into my scalp, trying get me closer, more. My fingers dig into his shoulders, trying to bury themselves within his flesh. If only…

I feel all of him, and I can't stop the whimper that escapes me. I can't stop. I don't want to.

We break for air, and in that instance I am broken, torn apart from Jacob; a place where I never want to be again. But he licks my lips playfully with his tongue, and I breathe in his scent. Masculine. Mine.

We breathe for a moment, in sync, taking stock of our desire. If he feels half of what I feel, it's a wonder he can stand.

"I need to take a shower," I say timidly. He breathes deeply, and his amber eyes glow in recognition. He knows, and, frankly, I'm over trying to figure out how I know. Too much. Too soon.

"What happened?" he growls.

"Nothing, just biology with Edward Cullen" I bend my lips to his bicep. I wish I could worship his entire body like a priest at an altar. "I stink," I joke.

He smiles at me, and I want him so badly that I feel my knees buckle. But I don't fall. He grasps me by the hips and holds me steady, to him. I am against every muscle in his body, and a moan lets loose without my permission.

His hands rove my body for a second, and I wish that he would touch me more. I'm his, right?

"I need to take a shower, too," he whispers, and the pull jumps. Is he suggesting what I think he is? I'm scared, but it's the good kind of fear. The kind people have when they're about to go on a rollercoaster ride. "C'mon," he ushers me to the house.

I have no idea where Paul went to, but he's gone.

We walk into the quaintly modest home, and I instantly love how homey it is. It's obvious that bachelors live here—it's a little too homey, but it's wonderful in its simplicity, and minor mess.

Jacob guides me to the bathroom, but he doesn't leave. He goes to the bathtub and turns around and asks me "shower or bath?" His eyes are still amber and I want to say, whatever will please him more, but instead I say "bath." with a flush and a duck of my head.

He runs the bathtub with hot water, and lets it fill to the top. As it's filling he takes his body wash, and empties it in the tub, letting the water mix with it and make small bubbles. We wait in comfortable silence, until he's done.

He turns around to me, smiles, and leaves the bathroom. I let the air around me shift, readjust to his lack of presence, and then I take off the oppressive clothes that smell like Edward Cullen, and get in the bath. The water scorches my skin, but it's good. It feels like Jacob.

It's not a bubble bath, but it's even better because Jacob made it for me. Mine. His.

A sigh leaves me, I'm so relaxed, with Jacob so near, but the door opens again. Jacob walks in, his stride beautiful and powerful as always, and lets his gaze sweep over my submerged body. I flush all over, saved by the only mercy that the hot water covers me. Only the swell of my breasts are visible, but I'm flushed even there, and the realization makes me light up like a Christmas tree.

He smiles, his eyes shining gold like the unreachable sun, and he turns towards the sink. He turns the tap on, pause for a second.

The air shifts again, and I feel the fire, it wants. I want, too.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Breathe, so I don't explode in yearning.

Jacob's hands unzip his cut offs, and pushes them down. He stands there in his glory, and my mouth goes dry. His skin may be filthy with grime, ashes, and blood, but he is magnificent in his glory. He is bravura in his dominion.

He's naked, and as vulnerable as any man can be. Jacob scoops water in his hand, lets it fill, and throws it over his chest, neck, arms. He turns and looks at me.

I look at him.

We.

Logically, I should feel uncomfortable with so much mutual exposure, and yet…

"There's a party, later on tonight," I try to distract myself from the pulse that's slowly building from simply watching him. From simply wanting him, all the time. "Do—do you want to go?

He stops cleansing himself, and grabs a washcloth from the bottom cabinet. He walks over to me, and dips it in the water.

Anxiety wants to hit me, and I realize I left all of my books outside, on the floor. But, Jacob lifts the washcloth and settles it at the center of my chest. I guess, I'll pick it up later. Progress.

He drags it down, beneath the water, on my skin; it leaves a trail of fire inside and out. He reaches my pelvis, and my body slightly arches in response. My breath comes out in shallow pants, and I need.

I can see a mirror in his eyes, and I know he needs just as much as I do. He smiles wickedly, and I know that he's playing the both of us like the strings of a Spanish guitar. The fire loves the way he plays us. I'm floating so high on him, that I can admit I love it, too.

"Wouldn't you rather stay here?" he asks huskily. Forever I want to say, but it's only been two weeks. Too much, too soon.

Instead, I nod and say, "You make a compelling argument."

His laughter rings out, and his eyes return to normal. I chuckle with him, my body content exactly where we are.

Everything's alright now.

He takes the washcloth and continues to wash himself, as I relax and watch him. The droplets of water run over his frame, searching for the ocean; the pull sleeps, safe, content.

The chill had disappeared, gone into the mystical abyss of pull and fire, lying in wait for the next time Jacob isn't around, but I'm ready. I'm ready to face the inner cold with memories of his lips on mine, flesh against flesh, and an inner knowing that all the blood on him—all the blood he sheds—is all for me.

And I can wait.


Sooo? What do you guys think? I didn't want to make this chapter too long, so I thought I'd end it here. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know and Review!