Author's Note: Hey everyone! I just wanted to give you all a heads up that I'm currently attempting to find a beta reader who is fluent in Spanish-- considering that both Nahuel and his aunt speak it, naturally the language will appear quite often during the story. There are a few Spanish lines in this chapter, and I tried to do the best I could with online translators (which, as we all know, generally aren't very good :P). If you find any mistakes, please feel free to point them out and I'll get them fixed as soon as possible. Enjoy chapter four!

You know, I never realized just how fascinating watching a still life painting of a boat on the sea could be.

Oh, wait, that's because I've never done it for six minutes straight.

At least the leech's have comfortable carpet, I guess, considering that I'm lying on the floor. And when I say 'lying,' I mean actually lying flat on my back in the middle of their living room.

Ha. Living room. Vampires don't live.

Christ. That was so lame I groan out loud, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. Tiny white spots bubble up in my vision, making everything blurry when I go back to staring at the stupid boat. Did I mention I'm staring at it upside down? Yep, upside down pictures of boats. Don't I just love staring at upside down pictures of boats in the leech's living room while I wait for Jacob to bring my imprint on over so I can announce that I have now become eternally bound to him through some sort of wolfy-type magic that I can't bring myself to remember why I hated?

I so need to have my own TV show.

...Six minutes and forty five seconds.

I think they should call Jacob to help think up a name for the show. He's good at stuff like that. Just look at the stupid stuffed wolf he bought the Spawn that he named Rolf, the Wolf of Awesome.

Yeah, I don't even know.

...Seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.

And my show should come on after Oprah. Everybody likes Oprah.

...Seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds.

Plus they could get some really hot actress to play me so everyone can pretend that I run around looking sexy all day.

...Eight minutes.

Bam.

Did I ever mention that Jacob has really incredibly fucking awesome timing?

As soon as the seconds hand on my watch ticks so that it lines up perfectly with the twelve, the door to the leech's living room bangs open with such an amount of force that I'm pretty shocked it doesn't fly right off the hinges. Not that slamming a door into the wall would win Jake any points with his parasitic family. The mom one probably wouldn't feed him for a month.

The only thing I can see from this upside down vantage point is the disgustingly tasteful cushions on the white couch (how it manages to stay that way with Jacob and Seth here all the time, I'll never know), but there is really no way to scramble up from one's back in the middle of very soft carpet and still retain any semblance of grace. Trust me. Even if one is scrambling to see one's imprint.

I do spare a moment to tug down my shirt so it's actually covering my stomach-- definitely a good move --before I look up. Irritatingly, Jacob's face is directly in my line of vision, hiding whoever came in behind him. The glare I shoot him must be particularly homicidal even for me, because he grins in an annoying smug way and takes one giant, Mother-May-I step to the right. I try to find the words to curse at him, but they get lost in the whirlpool motion as of all the air is sucked out of the room.

I don't think I've ever had reason to describe a man as beautiful, but that's the only adjective that comes to mind here. Maybe it has something to do with his skin-- not Quileute looking, not in the least, but only a few shades lighter, and with a strange golden glow that makes it look like he's lit from the inside out. His hair, I notice, is still in braids. And I also manage to notice that, much like the werewolves, he isn't wearing a shirt.

Way to pop up at an inconvenient time, hormones. Way. To. Go.

Jacob chooses that moment to clear his throat, incredibly obnoxiously and rudely if I may say so. I force my head to turn in his direction. "What the hell was that?"

"That was me coughing," he says innocently, in a tone that deeply implies, 'I totally saw you staring, don't deny it.' What an asshole.

I snort. "Well, don't. You sound like a dying cat."

"Hey," Jacob says abruptly, glancing over my head. "That was rude, right, Nahuel? Seriously. She does this all the time. It hurts me so much. It's like a knife. In my sensitive heart."

"What heart?" I ask on cue. It's an ingrained reaction by now, thankfully, because I'm way to busy having his name repeat on a loop through my brain. Nahuel, Nahuel, Nahuel.

When he laughs a few moments later, it's quiet, so that I have to strain my ears to make out the sound. "Your banter is very amusing," he tells us, and I can't help but notice that even though he's technically answering Jacob, he's staring at me. Helloooo, ego boost. If I were I guy, I'm sure my chest would be puffed out right now. I resist the urge to clap my hands together. Okay. Imprint-talk time. I can totally do this shit.

Except there's another cough just as I open my mouth. Fuck you, Jake. Don't ruin the damn moment. My hands slip down to the edges of my hips again as I twist myself to hiss some very choice words at Alpha dearest over there, but he isn't even looking at me. Ugh. The things I put up with around here.

Then... then I notice he's not just not looking at me. He's looking at somebody.

Somebody who is standing stiffly upright in the doorway. Somebody who seems to be very, very angry. Somebody with very, very red eyes.

Oh, crap, is all I get out in my mind before Nahuel turns around to face the woman, murmuring his words just as softly as he had laughed: "Aunt Huilen, now is not the time."

So authoritative. Take that, human-eater.

What was that sound? Oh, right, that was the sound of my maturity flying out the window.

She takes a step forward, a tiny, calculated step that makes it perfectly clear she's sure we're going to attack her any moment now. No, I'll be good. No attacking my imprint's aunt. That would not be good for bonding. But, for the record, I am having a difficult time looking anywhere but at her eyes. Eye contact is good, very good, but... once it goes on for a full minute, it gets sort of weird.

"Um... Leah?" Jacob sounds nervous; no reason to be, except he's interrupting me and Huilen's staring contest from hell. Even though it pains me, I tear my eyes away first.

"Yes?"

His eyes dart around the room, and he shuffles his feet against the floor. "Can I... talk to you?"

I roll my eyes. "You're kind of doing it right now. Talking. You know, that thing where your lips move and sound comes out?"

Still standing just behind Nahuel, his aunt makes a tiny noise in the back of her throat. "Ridículo," she hisses softly, folding her arms tight across her chest. Definitely don't need a Spanish-English dictionary to figure that one out. Nahuel frowns, and it makes me cringe.

Okay, maybe I am ridículo.

Apparently having had enough of this, Jacob catches me eyes and tilts his head towards the opposite corner of the room. Ooh, secret wolf meeting. Awesome. Maybe we can perfect our secret handshake while we're over there.

And yes, we do have a secret handshake. No, I don't know why. Jake thought it would be cool. Can't you tell why he's the Alpha?

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my cut-offs (which used to be Seth's before I stole them from the dryer-- not like the kid noticed), I follow him over to the corner. Right on cue, Huilen steps fully into the room, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper furiously into Nahuel's ear. All I can catch is a few strains of Spanish, which, wow, really helps me to understand. Unfortunately, I was forced to skip most of Spanish class in high school because of that thing were I started bursting into a fur ball on a regular basis. How freaking ironic.

Jacob is rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. What a stupid habit. "Can you do me a favor and not possibly cause his aunt's wrath?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what? I couldn't hear you because I was too busy watching your eyes get stuck that way," I shoot back. I slide my hands up, to play with the belt loops on the shorts and tug them higher up on my hips. I picked a seriously inconvenient day to wear these, considering they're about two sizes to big for me. Stupid Seth and his stupid growth spurt.

"Don't change the subject, freak." He flicks my temple with two of his fingers, which I then attempt to bite off. No such luck. "Were you actually going to mention the part where you imprinted, or just glare at this Huilen chick the whole time?"

"I wasn't glaring," I protest. "I was just... looking. Very hard."

"Whatever." He kicks my ankle as softly at he can manage. "Do you want me to tell them for you? If it helps. I can."

"Didn't Bella almost rip your arm off the last time you announced an imprint?" I ask skeptically, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. Jacob's face flushes a little.

"Well, yeah. But that was an isolated incident."

"Wo-o-o-ah, big words there."

"Quiet, Leah."

"I won't be and you can't make me," I sing. Since when did I revert to age six?

Jacob scowls, pressing his hand onto my shoulder. Ew, cooties. "Focus," he mutters. "Okay, if you don't want to do it, I'll tell them. Just... just try to look nice or something. And shield yourself from Huilen. She looks pissed as hell already."

I start to reason that this might have something to do with the fact that even if we are in the Corner of Secrecy, she is a vampire and therefore heard every word we said anyway. But Jacob slides his hand down my back and pushes me forward, doing it so smoothly that I hardly even realize he's propelling me back towards Nahuel and his aunt. And it sounds ridiculously corny (it kind of is ridiculously corny), but when Nahuel lifts his face and catches my eye, I smile. Because I can't help it. And he smiles back.

Which is very, very nice.

Jacob moves so that he's standing a few inches in front of me, all Alpha-ish and such. I nudge his shoulder. Go on, smart one.

"We," he begins, "are shape shifters."

I resist the urge to cough out the word obviously. It's sort of implied, I guess, because he gives me a weary glance that spells out "shut the fuck up" and goes on:

"And our pack has a very special attribute to it."

He pauses, and I swear it feels like none of us could take a breath if we tried. This, I realize, is it. I've waited three years for this. I've waited three years to hear these words said in reference to me instead of against me. This is not a bad thing anymore.

"It's called imprinting," Jacob says, and there's exactly one heartbeat of silence before Hell breaks loose.

Huilen is yelling so loudly I'm afraid my eardrums might crack. I have one instant to think, She's a vampire, why the hell is she yelling?! before Nahuel whips around and tries to shushher, but it's too late. Jacob with his nonexistent fuse is yelling right back at her, Nahuel is trying to insist she be quiet but she all she does is keep shrieking in some weird, bilingual mix of English and Spanish and what sounds like curse words in both, her nephew is grabbing her by the arm to stop her from doing something I'm sure shouldn't happen and I am really, really starting to wonder when this imprinting thing starts to be perfect.

"Hey!" I cry, taking Jacob's forearm and shoving him backwards just to get him to shut up. He lands against the back of the couch with a thud that I ignore. "Hey! Hey!"

Unfortunately, my fuse is only a little longer than Jacob's. And it shortens when I'm being ignored.

"Look, lady, I don't know why you're freaking out!" I yell, frustration bubbling up inside my throat. Huilen glares at me, gnashing her perfect white teeth, and Nahuel makes what I think is a pained sort of noise. "You didn't even let him finish! And trust me, it would be really nice if you could abstain from attacking any of us when you don't even know what the hell's going on!"

"Of course I know what's going on!" she hisses, digging her nails into the hand that Nahuel has wrapped around her wrist. Ouch. I wince, and Huilen gives a derisive laugh. "I've seen him!" Her whole body arches languidly towards Jacob, still leaning against the couch, which now has a reasonably-sized dent in it. "I've seen him and the little halfing! Disgusting! Unnatural! Love at first sight, cuándo infierno se hela!"

"Aunt Huilen." Nahuel sounds absolutely shocked; I grimace.

"I'm going to guess that whatever she said wasn't very friendly?"

He nods wearily, and God all I want to do is go and comfort him and make him feel better. I have a feeling, however, that would result in the loss of several important limbs.

"That was quite rude, Aunt Huilen," Nahuel muses, sounding like he's scolding a child.

"Don't you speak to me that way!" And apparently she thinks so too. The pitch of her voice goes up another notch as she seethes, "All of this is unnatural, do you hear me? I don't even know why we've stayed here this long! Loco! Imprinting! Probably some idiotic thing you've all made up!"

"Excuse me?!" I shriek. Oh, Christ. "If imprinting is some made-up shit, I really don't think I'd be having this damn problem! Would you like me to get God on the phone and ask him to take it back?! Because I really don't have that kind of power! Trust me, you both would be the least of my freaking worries if imprinting wasn't real! If imprinting wasn't real, I'd be fucking married right now!"

I think it's that word, married, that brings me up short. Suddenly I realize that I'm breathing too hard and that I can feel my heart throbbing in my throat, making it harder and harder to draw air. It's so silent that even Huilen has gone vampirically-still, watching. Waiting.

If imprinting wasn't real, I'd be fucking married right now!

I shove my way out of the room before Jacob can even think to call me back in. Right before I slam the door I catch Nahuel's face-- and it's so apologetic that I almost walk right back in.

But apparently, my imprint isn't strong enough for that.

So I shut the door and listen to it click quietly into place. And I keep walking, down the hallway and to the edge of the staircase. And I sit on the bottom step and I think about the fact that sometimes, it's much easier to let the truth slip out than a lie.