Thank you for your encouragement and kind support of sap ;-) I'll continue unless you tell me otherwise.
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A/V: (Probably the only one of this fic)
A: "Afterglow" by Phaeleh – A lovely soft-step (vs dubstep) song and kinda the theme for this fic, complete with high breathy O/C voice. But whatever you do, don't watch the official vid! Ack, it ruins it.
V: Several folks have asked who I'm envisioning as Chanté. I didn't write her based on anyone, but went looking. I changed the "cover/icon" for this fic temporarily with an image that's pretty damn close to what I see in my head (Neha Sharma is the model). Though of course this is the beauty of fiction: use your own imagination.
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Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.
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Chapter 4
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Chanté-skueyea. Sweetheart. Embry had known her name from the beginning.
He was grateful for the serendipity whispered through his fate – like a quiet apology for all it taken from him.
And her.
Embry smoothed a hand over a head of sable silk as he cocked his head at the woman lying asleep on the bed beside him.
Finally she was resting… somewhat.
He pressed his lips together as a finger traced over her brow where a pucker still dug into that peace. It mirrored his own. He'd have never guessed that such a sublimely joyous and innocent creature would have known the pain of this world.
But she did.
It hurt so deeply that she did.
The conversation with Old Quil had not gone nearly as well as Embry had hoped. Chanté only understood the most basic of Lakota Sioux, so, cobbling together simple words, they'd stumbled through only half an hour of halting conversation.
They still knew so little.
But he knew that she hurt. Deeply.
And he wanted to know everything about it so he knew better how to hold her. From what they could understand, she had a father somewhere, but she'd lost her mother and had no sisters either. But when they'd asked about her brothers, she'd finally disintegrated into tears, falling into his chest where she clung like he was the only thing holding her in the world.
She remembered.
She understood the words yellow and eyes, and when Old Quil had put them together she'd wailed in anguish. Embry had hoped biology had been kind and blocked out the night when she'd watched her brothers murdered in front of her eyes, their life sucked out and final suffering breaths expelled in terror. By demons with slow violence.
Embry hadn't been able to stand it anymore. Without a word to the others in the room, he'd scooped her up into his sheltering arms and brought her to the haven of the guest room… and just held her.
Embry bit his lip, shimmying it to and fro and feeling teeth slice through skin and into the rusted quick. He lapped at the blood like somehow if he just paid the right price, the gods would let him go back and do it all over again. And protect her.
This guilt was such a hefty burden. He'd been there. He'd known something was wrong. Still he'd done nothing.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a long slow breath through his nose and tried to reset. Living in the past was only going to steal from the present and right now there was so much more to figure out. He needed to be strong.
Like she was.
Chanté had been facing each moment of this frightening newness with the courage of a warrior and optimism of a child, even though her heart had shattered and the shards were still lodged in her soul.
Embry had to be better.
He wouldn't let her suffer anymore and that meant he needed to step up and suit up to slay any demon that dared rear its head again over their horizon. Because it was their horizon, Embry knew that now.
Earlier in the conversation Old Quil had asked where she came from and the only thing she could do was point off into the woods behind the house. Speaking words Embry suspected she'd only heard in her head was still a struggle for her and Chanté didn't recognize any human names of places that they'd tried. But when the elder had tried a different route and asked her where home was, she'd sat up straighter and answered, clearly and with no hesitation:
"Emmie."
The men in the room had graciously ignored the tears that bled into his eyes - Embry had never been given such a precious gift. He vowed to spend every breath until his last trying to be worthy of it.
He'd do everything in his power to find her father, he'd fearlessly search for the answers to a million questions and he'd meet any obstacle in his way head-on.
Like the one waiting for him right now in the kitchen.
Smoothing his palm over the woman's head beside him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to a silky cheek and that last little pucker in her brow magically slipped lax. He smiled softly as he pulled back, eyes washing over that angelic face, finally at peace. It made him dementedly happy that she felt safe with him.
Because she was.
She'd gifted her trust, her heart, her body with complete and utter abandon and he'd guard them with his life and fucking anything else he had at his disposal.
Eyes unable to tear themselves away, Embry slipped off the bed and backed toward the door. The Quils had left a while ago – along with everyone else – and Bella had gone upstairs for a nap. Jacob had obviously carved out a few moments of solitude so they could talk before the Pack arrived for dinner and a meeting.
And Embry was going to take advantage of the time to get a few fucking things straight.
His gaze gulped down a last glimpse of the gentle warrior curled up on her side, and then he turned away.
It would have been easier to gnaw off his own arm, but he'd better get used to it. He wasn't going to cling to this dream – she wasn't his to own, she was his to protect and sometimes that would mean letting her go.
He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling it quietly closed behind him. Making a quick detour to the bathroom, he leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on his face, trying to reset.
As water trickled off of his chin, he absently looked up into the mirror… and did a double-take.
He barely recognized the man staring back. His face looked thinner, older somehow, his shoulders broader and there was a subtle change in perspective like he'd grown an inch or two since he'd last looked in this mirror only yesterday.
But the biggest difference was his eyes.
Embry had always hated looking into them – to him, they screamed the pain of a lost boy. But now… now they were steady, sober, determined. He could still see his heart beating so close to the surface they seemed to pulse, but each measure was hard and unapologetic, strong and unafraid.
Ignoring the water dribbling off his jaw onto his shirt, he straightened and pulled his shoulders back, absently flexing and watching the contours strain against his borrowed shirt and then ripple down bare arms. His musculature was still on the lean and lithe side of the pumped-up Pack, but there was a subtle new bulk to his frame.
Good.
He didn't wonder why or how he'd had a growth spurt at the ripe old age of 22 and five years after his Phase, he knew. His body was stepping up to his purpose, the same of his heart.
Smearing the drips from his jaw with the brusque back of his fist, he opened the door and headed down the hall, cataloging the slow even breaths of his imprint behind him.
Bella was also slumbering upstairs and the silence of the house was only marred by the hum of the refrigerator, the water heater in the basement and the soft click of a cellphone in the kitchen up ahead.
Embry entered the kitchen to find his Alpha, leaned back against the counter and scrolling through a touchscreen phone with a half-drained beer sitting beside him on the counter. He'd known Embry was coming, of course, and had staged this distraction to ease into what they both knew would be a contentious conversation at best.
"Jake," Embry greeted quietly, his gaze slipping to the refrigerator as the man looked up from his cell.
Embry wasn't ready to look him in the eye just yet. After his imprint's tears, he knew he was still agitated and blame was such an addictive game.
"Is she doing better?" Jacob murmured.
Embry watched him watching him out of the corner of his eye as he walked on by. "She's sleeping," he bit out as he opened the refrigerator with the jangle of bottles– though of course his Alpha could hear that. This was the way wolves made small talk: they pretended they were human again.
Pulling out a beer, he unscrewed the cap and then tipped back a long draught as he let the rattling door close behind him. They couldn't get drunk now and didn't even feel a buzz without the stuff being much stiffer, but whether it was the manly indulgence, the symbolism or the acuity of their senses, beer seemed to take the razor's edge off instinct.
Still without a glance to his Alpha, Embry crossed the kitchen and then congealed back on the bench, propping his elbows behind him on the table. His eyes swept up to Jacob's unreadable stare, taking inventory from behind that leader's mask.
Embry held his gaze as he turned slightly to the beer in his hand and sucked down another swig on one side. With the pop of his lips on the glass, he let his hand fall so it hung from the table, dangling the neck of the bottle from between his fingers.
And waited.
Snatching up his own drink, Jacob took a shot and then swallowed it with a roll of his lips. " 'Looks like you've grown again," he sniffed.
"I have," Embry intoned, watching what he realized was discomfort flickering behind his friend's eyes.
He'd never seen Jacob so uncertain in his life. Of course to anyone else he looked like their stalwart, indomitable Alpha, oozing back against the counter in a devil-may-care lounge.
But Embry saw it. He always fucking saw it.
And he was starting to appreciate that for the gift that it was.
Jacob felt vulnerable for some reason (he was pretty sure he knew why) and Embry was going to leverage the hell out of it if he gave him any shit.
"So I'm meeting with the Cullens tomorrow," Jacob began lowly, lifting the bottle and taking a deep gulping drought this time.
So they were going to start here? Alright…
Embry canted his head as he watched his Alpha smear his lips with the back of his hand and then lower the empty bottle.
"I'm meeting Carlisle and the Cocksucker at the hospital," Jacob continued setting the beer down and following it with his eye. They all knew who the Cocksucker was – the leech who'd dared harass their Alpha's mate. The only reason he still had a head was because of Bella's gentle heart.
"With-…?"
"I'm going alone," Jacob looked back up.
The words jumped his lips in a hiss, "I want to come."
Jacob shifted back against the counter. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he murmured.
Embry's eyes dropped down to the bottle swinging between his fingers as he imagined seeing any leech again, much less one of the demons from that night. A vision tore through his brain of how satisfying it would feel to rip off that Cocksucker's head with his bare hands, freeing a geyser of her kin's blood, and painting hospital walls with crimson.
Lips flashing up reflexively from his canines, Embry quickly tipped back the bottle and poured cold beer down over the guttural rumble of jagged rage. He lapped the yeast from his lips and then looked up to Jacob's stoic stare.
"No, you're right," he hissed. Embry never had any problems admitting it when it was true.
Jacob nodded curtly.
"I don't want you giving details," he continued with quiet heat. "I don't want them knowing anything about her."
"Wasn't gonna," Jacob propped one foot over the other as he leaned against his elbow. "I figure they're not our secrets to tell, anyway."
Embry nodded and his eyes fell back to his drink and sloshed it restlessly around in the bottle. Just the mention of those monsters volatized his blood well past the boiling point. The pressure was nearly unbearable. Added to a protective nature anyway, the lupine punch combined with imprint cocktail was a lethal combination to be sure.
Bring it on. This thing could be as painful as it wanted to be – it was worth it.
"So Billy's still going to see what he can find out about her people."
Embry's gaze snapped up to his Alpha crossing toward the fridge while he cast a glance out of the corner of his eye.
Embry's brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't he?"
Jacob glanced over his shoulder as he reached in and pulled out another beer. "I didn't know how you'd feel about it, knowing that she doesn't want to leave."
Embry's brow knit. Did Jacob really think he was that selfish… or scared? Sure, some deep ugly part of him just wanted to wrap her in his arms and forget about complications, but he wasn't that son of a bitch. Never had been and wouldn't start now.
Jacob turned back around, popping off the cap with an idle thumb and tossing it into the sink with a clatter while intense eyes took inventory. It was then Embry understood: he was fishing – trying to figure out just how the imprint was affecting both him and his judgment.
The Pack had certainly seen their fair share of insanity - from Sam's accident to Quil's parent-freaking obsession to Jared's shameful seduction when good-girl Kim had wanted wait until they were married to Jacob nearly starting an all-out war. Wolves were notoriously psycho-possessive, volatile assholes when it came to their mates.
Embry had found out yesterday that even Brady was struggling with being slammed into the friend zone for the moment by a long-distance boyfriend – luckily he was young enough to handle it. The farther they got into manhood, the more complicated shit seemed to get.
Jacob knew that personally, didn't he?
His lips hitched up on one side as he tipped another sip of beer past them. "I was thinking that if we didn't know more by summer, I'd drive her out there to see if she recognized anything."
Jacob's eyes darted over his face for a moment and then he nodded and leaned back against the refrigerator. He licked his lips, still testing, "Paul's going to be here tonight…"
Just the name made Embry's molars grind together. "It'll be fine," he said quietly and then took a swig of beer to wash the bad taste out of his mouth. He swallowed with a little smack. " 'Cause you're going to Order his fucking mouth shut."
"Deal," Jacob sniffed and tipped his bottle up with a slosh. "So you're doing okay with all this?"
"Yes," Embry held his gaze. So much more than okay it wasn't even funny. This seventh degree was understandable considering how he'd lost his shit last night, but it was fucking annoying too and he wanted it over.
He knew the best was still to come.
Jacob's eyes skittered thoughtfully across the floor as he took another gulp of beer. "Emb, I hate to have to talk to you about this…" he murmured and then looked up and met his gaze with steady eyes.
Here it comes.
Embry froze in his idle fidgeting with the bottle. "Then don't," he bit out quietly.
Heaving out a heavy sigh, Jacob lowered the bottle to his side. "I gotta, man," he whispered. "She's my responsibility too and -…"
"No," Embry shook his head curtly. "She's mine."
Jacob blinked, an expression of almost relief flitting over his face at the term. Like suddenly he knew what to do with all this.
"She's my responsibility to protect," Embry amended in a hiss.
"I know," Jacob crooned, like his wolf was losing his shit.
Embry wanted to punch him in the mouth.
"But you gotta make sure you're not putting yourself in a situation where you could lose control," he continued quietly. "Like Jared."
"I'm nothing like Jared," Embry's face crumpled in unguarded disgust. He'd never be so weak as to take advantage of her like Jared had done with his new imprint.
"I know," Jacob soothed again.
Maybe Embry would just go ahead and do it – punching him in his face, just might shut him up.
Brusquely setting the bottle on the table with a harsh clack, he shoved his hands through his hair. He needed to rein himself in. He knew this hair-trigger rage was part and parcel of the imprint –and an unsealed one at that – and he'd just have to deal with it. Punching Jake would be gratifying but would just confirm every last (wrong) assumption that was fueling his Alpha's lecture. He had to be better than this.
For her.
"Look, I want you guys to stay here for a while," Jacob continued quietly, like he was tiptoeing out onto thin ice (he was). "She can sleep upstairs. We still have a bed set up in the baby's room and-…"
"No," Embry growled. Easy…keep it together asshole.
Jacob pushed off the refrigerator, wary eyes darting over his face. "Emb-…"
"I'm not talking to you about this," Embry cut in with razor words – the beer wasn't doing shit today.
"Emb, she's fucking three years old!" Jacob snarled.
Embry's body seized like he'd stuck his finger in a socket. This was one of the most disturbing things he'd learned this afternoon: when Old Quil asked her how old she was, she didn't seem to understand.
Then he'd asked her how many winters she'd seen…
Chanté had splayed out a hand and carefully counted three graceful digits with an index finger. Disbelieving, the elder asked her how many Springs… and she'd carefully counted out four. And at the time, the only thing Embry could do with the information was appreciate that he now knew the approximate time of her birth.
The rest simply blew his mind.
Over the rest of the interrogation, he tried to wrap his head around it and ended up with a tangled ball of guilt. However, in the bedroom, that self-disgust had evaporated when she'd turned up with swollen teary eyes and begged for a kiss. He'd obliged, meeting those lips with reassurance wrapped in tenderness, while she suckled it down with hungry sighs - like a strong woman seeking the comfort of mate and nothing like a vulnerable child.
Was it disconcerting that she was only three years in this world? Of course, if he thought with his human mind. But Embry had decided this morning that he wasn't going to let his past get in the way.
And his past was human, his imprint was not.
Embry's nostrils flared. "So?" he challenged his Alpha across the kitchen.
"See!" Jacob gestured roughly at him, like all of his worst fears had just come true. "This is just the kind of fucking bullshit I can't have on my shift. And I am not gonna have another Kim on my watch," he ground out. "What the fuck would you do if Quil-…"
Embry threw himself off the bench. "STOP!" his bellow sliced through the kitchen like a sword.
Jacob froze, lips jumping up from his teeth as his muscles engaged with a snap and quiver.
Fearlessly facing his Alpha down, he bared his own canines in warning.
Jacob's eyes pushed into crescents as he battled his beast. He growled, "The wolf-…"
Embry stomped one step closer and Jacob wisely shut his fucking mouth. They all said 'the wolf this, the wolf that…' it was a fucking lame-assed excuse, if you asked him. The wolf was part of who they were, so it was their responsibility, end of story.
Embry might just be the only one in the Pack who understood that.
He brought his voice down to an icy croon. "I am not Jared. And I'm not Quil," his face buckled in disgust - just one step down that road made him want to hurl. Embry licked his lips, and then drove his point home with crisp, pointed words. "And I'm not you either."
The way his parry obviously staked Jacob's heart made him regret it immediately. Embry knew all the most painful cards to play for each of his Packmates… and he usually avoided them at all costs.
But Jacob had pushed him too far.
His Alpha whipped around, slamming his beer to the counter and then wiped his palms over his face.
Ashamed of himself, Embry sat back down on the bench, grabbing up his beer and draining it in an effort to give the man the privacy to get himself together. Jacob heaved in a breath that lifted his shoulders and then expelled it in a harsh hiss.
In his periphery, Embry watched Jacob turn over his shoulder. "Yeah, that's just the kind of shit I'm talking about," he hissed, self-derision dripping from the words.
Embry peered down into the bottom of his empty bottle. "You haven't talked about it," he whispered. And he needed to… Embry knew. He always fucking knew.
Jacob stared at him for a moment and then huffed out a breath and crossed to the refrigerator. He roughly yanked it open and pulled out two more beers, even though his sat half-full on the counter.
Letting the door clatter closed behind him, he flicked off a cap with each thumb and the deadly aim that sent them both clanging into the sink across the kitchen. He stalked slowly toward where Embry was blindly considering the label of his beer.
Jacob offered out a bottle and Embry looked up into his tired eyes. Setting his empty on the table he took it with a muttered, "Thanks."
Blowing a breath out from his cheeks, Jacob collapsed heavily on the bench a few feet away and both men tipped up long gulps. His Alpha slumped over his lap, bracing his forearms on his thighs as he bowed his head and restlessly turned the bottle in his hand, trying to find his macho footing on shaky ground
Watching him out of the corner of his eye, Embry took another swig. And waited.
"God, Emb, I'm such a fucking asshole," Jacob sighed quietly.
"Only sometimes," Embry sniffed, trying to lighten him up.
Jacob punched him in the arm halfheartedly and Embry glanced at him with a wry smile. This Alpha rolled his eyes and hunched over his lap.
Embry leaned back, propping his elbows behind him again and leaned into another sip of beer – even if it didn't do shit when it counted, it was still a most excellent distraction.
"It was when those three parasites were fucking with us," Jacob began so quietly, a human ear would have missed it. "We'd just taken down the dread-locked leech and I came home all high on fucking adrenaline."
Embry didn't react. Like he was waiting for the bus or something, his gaze fell to the floor before him as he opened up the space for his friend to open up.
Jacob drew in a deep breath through his nose and then wrapped his lips around the bottle and upended it, sucking down drags that made bubbles race behind amber. He swallowed with a quiet gasp. "I hadn't seen her in, like, two days," he sniffed a humorless laugh and then shook his head slowly. "And I could scent she'd forgotten her pills. With all the stress…"
Jacob's lips twisted into a grimace as he glanced his way.
Keeping his face carefully neutral, Embry's gaze stayed trained on the cracks in the linoleum while he slowly swished his bottle and then took a sip.
Jacob sighed again as his eyes turned to the beer in a hand that was subtly shaking. "Y'know, Bells always had this thing about marriage 'cause of her parents," he murmured, tracing a finger over the label. "She didn't wanna get marked either because it felt too much like the same bullshit," he spat, picking agitatedly at the paper corner.
Embry turned into another gulp of beer, sneaking a peek at Jacob's profile. His face was etched in self-derision… and regret.
"And I thought-…" his lips hitched up in a disgusted sneer. "I didn't think." He closed his eyes and then clenched them tightly over thoughts.
"Not with the right head, anyway," Embry murmured, trying to tow him through the rapids.
Jacob barked a laugh, glancing at him and meeting his eye. "Exactly."
Embry gave him a small smile and then his eyes swept back to the floor.
"God, Emb," he spat under his breath. "I mean I took her every chance I got. Made sure to screw up her morning routine." He closed his eyes and tipped up his beer, audibly gulping it down to the bottom. He slammed the bottle on the bench beside him. " 'Even hid her pills behind the shaving cream," he coughed a disgusted laugh. "Sick shit like that," he turned back with agonized eyes.
Embry looked up, pressing his lips together – that was some sick shit.
Jacob seemed grateful he wasn't rushing in to try to convince him otherwise. Pushing a sigh from pursed lips he leaned back, propping his arms behind him as he looked up at the ceiling.
"It wasn't until after we took out the blond and the red-head ran away two days later, that she remembered," he spoke quietly to the sky. "She came to me with these fucking scared eyes, like I was gonna be mad or something," he spoke the words numbly as he shook his head back and forth. "Like it was her fault."
A burst of heat ignited in his gut. Embry tried to keep his voice even, "Did you tell her?"
"Yes," Jacob glanced at him with ruined eyes. "And you shoulda seen her face."
Embry's gaze washed over that self-contempt.
"She wouldn't let me touch her for two weeks," Jacob whispered as their eyes met. Slumping back over his thighs he pushed his hands through his hair and clawed into his crown. "And the rest is history," he spat. "Bella being Bella, she eventually forgave me, she kept the baby, she wants to get marked after he's born… we got married."
"What?" Embry flipped the words out through his teeth.
Jacob released his hair and cut his eyes over as he propped his forearms on his thighs. "Down at city hall… only our parents know."
"Why didn't you-…"
Jacob sat up, stopping him with a look. "She wanted it that way - 'wanted it to be a personal thing… between us. She wants to celebrate after the mark, and how could I not give her that? I got everything I wanted and she…? She got me," he spat hatefully.
Brows furrowing, Embry pushed off the table, turning more toward his agonized Alpha. "But you're what she wants, Jake," he whispered, leaning down and propping his forearms on his thighs as he looked intensely into suffering eyes. "Yeah, it's all pretty fucked up," he wrinkled the side of his nose. "But she's happy. I've never seen her happier, actually, and you know I watch."
Jacob rolled his lips as his gaze fell uncertainly to the floor.
"So, yeah… you fucked up big time," Embry murmured. "But lucky for you, your mate rocks…"
Jacob's lips spread in a sickeningly sappy smile. "She rocks so hard."
Embry sniffed a laugh at his expression. "So maybe that's what she needed too?"
Jacob eyes snapped over like lasers.
"I'm not saying it shouldn't have gone down different," he amended with a lift of his brow. "But Bella's where she needs to be right now. Maybe she was scared to commit. To take what was hers…"
Brows furrowing, Jacob cocked his head.
Embry sat up, snatching his beer. After Jacob had shared such personal pain, part of him felt like he should reciprocate with some of his own struggles from the day. But it just wasn't going to happen.
Embry had always been private, and there was no way in hell he was going to disrespect Chanté and talk about how innocently open she was about sex. Their intimacy was for them alone to figure out… and cherish.
The best he could offer was some of his own personal trials…
"I mean look at me," Embry continued quietly. "I was so fucking used to having nothing, I didn't even know I'd imprinted, how fucked up is that?"
Jacob's brow fell in aching empathy. "Emb, jeezis, I'm so sorry I've been-…"
"And I figured out I've been pushing other shit away too," Embry cut him off. "Including you."
Blinking, Jacob's eyes darted over his meaningful stare.
Embry's gaze fell between them as he slowly licked his lips. "If I'd have come to you, you'd have been there, Jake," he whispered and then looked back up from under his lashes. "You've always been like a brother."
Eyes softening, Jacob offered him a smile. "I love you, man," he breathed – like only he could do and not sound like a total pussy. "And I feel shitty about turning my back."
Embry's lips hitched up on one side as his gaze fell to the floor. "It's not your fault."
"I'm management, so everything's my fault," Jacob sniffed, his voice inadvertently trolling its bass. "But I can handle it."
Glancing back up, Embry's smile evened out as he sat back. "You handle a lot of shit, Jake."
He rolled his eyes as he snatched his beer back up off the bench. "Some shit better than others," he snorted and took a sip. "But I got your back now, Emb," his gaze cut down as he swallowed loudly. "And I want you to know: I'll give you whatever I can. Whatever you need."
Embry's lips spread in a saccharine smile. "Including your fucking muzzle out of my business?"
Jacob barked a laugh and took another swig of beer.
Embry grabbed his own bottle. "Look, I got this," he told him, taking a quick squeaking sip. "And if I get stuck, I'll ask," he met his eyes meaningfully. "Whatever we decide, it'll be our decision – mine and Swee-… Chanté's." He couldn't help the way just the feel of her name on his lips made his heart flip.
Jacob heard it, of course. His lips curved with a private smile.
Embry flicked his eyes up and took another gulp of beer.
"I'm so fucking happy for you, Emb," Jacob whispered. "You deserve this."
"I don't deserve shit," Embry gasped as he lowered his bottle. "But you'd better believe I'm gonna earn it."
Jacob's smile slipped wry as his eyes flitted over Embry's face for a moment. Then he clacked his bottle down as he pushed both hands through his hair. "Fuck!" he groaned to the ceiling. "I just got schooled!"
Embry's face cracked in a grin.
He slapped his palms on his thighs. "It's always the quiet ones…" Jacob muttered petulantly out of the corner of a smile.
"Yep," Embry's grin slipped sideways into a leer.
Jacob was just opening his mouth for some kind of bratty comeback when his phone buzzed in his jeans. Popping his mouth closed again, he pulled it from his pocket.
His face transformed immediately. "Shit, it's Rache," he gasped, standing while his eyes stayed locked on the screen. "Hold up, I gotta take this."
Embry took a swig of beer as he watched his Alpha pace across the floor, lifting the phone to his cheek. "Rache," he whispered. "How's it going?"
Embry could hear her uncomfortable reply on the other end of the line and quickly tuned it out. Standing, he left his bottle on the table and crossed to the refrigerator – he was starving again. While Jacob braced a hand against the sink and stared out over the yard, listening to his sister, Embry pulled out a tupperware of leftover roast and returned to the bench.
"Honey, just come home," Jacob crooned, shamelessly trying to lace the edict with compulsion.
He doubted it would work – Rachel had been devastated by her mother's death and hadn't been back since she'd left.
Rachel and Rebecca were twins only in the biological sense of the word. Even though they were fraternal, they looked enough alike that people usually guessed, but that's where the similarities ended. Like Jacob, Becca was a charismatic extrovert who'd stolen the show all their lives. Under her sister's shadow, Rachel had been stunted into a quiet and bitter girl who was nothing, if not practical. While her sister sailed off to Hawaii to marry an equally sunny surfer, Rachel had gotten a degree in computer engineering, and gotten an equally serious job in Silicon Valley.
Over the last few years, she'd gotten stuck in a relationship with a domineering asshole who capitalized on Rachel's insecurities – or so Jacob said.
Embry shoved several slices of meat into his mouth, chewing the cold mouthful only to feed his hunger while he tried not to listen in to the siblings' conversation.
"You don't have to go back to dad's," Jacob murmured. "We' got an empty room. You can live with me an' Bells until you get back on your feet."
The offer made Embry freeze from where he was trying to down his mouthful – it made him focus painfully on his own plight. He couldn't hide out with Chanté here forever, but he certainly wouldn't take her home.
"No, I know you're not," Jacob quickly amended as he pushed off the counter and paced along it toward the back door. "But honey, you can do your job remotely, right?" He tore it open and stepped out on the porch – the screen door was still… splintered and laying out in the yard.
But Embry couldn't and wouldn't tackle every problem on the books today. He'd have to find them another place eventually – and figure out how the hell he could pay for both when he lived hand-to-mouth as it was.
But not now.
'
Sitting in the guest room chair, Embry made quick work of the rest of the leftovers and then closed the container and set it on the floor as his eyes stayed locked on the woman sleeping on the bed. With hunger abated – at least for a few minutes – he sat back and watched.
It was the most beautiful thing in the world to see her face at peace. When he'd come into the room there had been the slightest pucker between her brows, but as soon as he'd shut the door it had smoothed out to serene. Some part of her knew he was there and it made her feel safe and relaxed, even with those dark shadows over her past.
It made him feel important and needed – things he'd wanted to feel all his life.
So for the next hour, he soaked up her scent and the sumptuous beat of her heart while he listened to Bella awake from upstairs and come down to quiet conversation with her mate in the kitchen.
His Pack began trickling in, one by one, for dinner and the meeting before shifts began again after sunset. Of course, at this rate, maybe she'd sleep through it with him at her side. Embry found himself thinking that that might be just perfect.
But, as if on cue, Quil arrived with his usual exuberance and the slam of the front door.
That steady heartbeat lunged into a sprint and Chanté's eyes popped open while Embry cursed his Packmate on all fronts. With a soft cry, she pushed off the mattress as her frantic gaze washed over the empty bed and then out into the room.
They snapped to where Embry had momentarily frozen in the chair.
"Shh," he soothed, pushing to his feet as he held that disoriented gaze. "It's okay."
Long lashes fluttered with several blinks as Embry slowly slunk to the bed.
She drew in a long breath and then sighed quietly, "Emmie."
"I'm here," he murmured lowering himself down on the edge of the mattress. She sat up more, rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist like a sleepy little kid.
It was adorable. He could wake up to this every morning of his life.
He hoped he did.
Embry reached out and smoothed a palm over her cheek as he searched bleary eyes. "How are you feeling?" he whispered.
Huge soulful eyes looked up and met his and he could see it: pain. He always saw it and he was so fucking glad. Her gaze dipped back down with a small courageous nod and she scooted closer, resting her forehead on his shoulder.
Maybe she had blocked out the horrors of that first night and Old Quil's interrogation had just brought them front and center. Embry stroked slowly over her hair while she silently leaned against him for a moment. "Chanté?" he breathed.
She picked her head up at her name, a smile fluttering freely over full lips.
And then she was climbing into his lap. His body did all kinds of crazy things and he ignored every one of them as she straddled him, her dress shamelessly hiking up long lissome thighs. Clutching her hands under her chin, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulders.
She felt vulnerable in his arms and he was furious at his body's reaction. His heart rate spiked, pumping blood into his crotch and making dick spring into painful action. He shifted uncomfortably under her against borrowed jeans that were tight with his new growth anyway and now felt like a vise.
Leaving her hands on his chest, Chanté looked up at him with questions and he pried his attention from his throbbing balls.
"Are you feeling sad?" he whispered, cocking his head. He smoothed a hand over her hair that had slithered out of her braid in a soft halo around her face.
Her brows pushed together in confusion.
"Sad?" Embry frowned theatrically and his finger drew a line down his cheek in a mime of the meaning.
That brow still furrowed, she shook her head quickly, almost like it was an insult.
Embry's hand stilled in her hair.
Eyes holding his intensely, she licked her lips – obviously wanting to say more than her limited vocabulary allowed. One hand left his chest and graceful fingers touched her heart. "Hurts," she whispered.
He nodded soberly, while his eyes darted over her face, trying to understand what else she was struggling to say.
Her other hand reached out and smoothed over his heart and she leaned up. He automatically bowed his head to touch her nose. "Emmie," she sighed in a billow over his face.
And he instantly forgot all about understanding.
His bones melted along with his muscles as his lips slid into a sappy smile. She smiled along with him and then rolled down and brushed honey lips over his. Pulling away with the cling of skin, she then tipped her head and caressed his mouth again.
Just her taste turned his blood into liquid ecstasy and he was flying high.
But he reined in his body and let the kiss unfurl between them, slow and gentle, the soft moist smacks of skin sparkling in privacy of their bedroom. Her fingers smoothed over his shoulders as their hearts whispered in the play of their lips and Embry's hands stiffened on her back, fighting to keep from crushing her to him and taking more.
But she leaned in and offered it anyway, pressing her little body into his chest as she scooted up his lap…
And then jerked to a stop. Ripping the kiss apart with a gasp, she looked down between their bodies at the hard ridge of flesh that had pressed into her stomach while Embry panted like a racehorse.
He put everything he had into not flinching as a hand slipped down his chest and fingers brushed over the painful bulge in his jeans. Even through denim, that light touch was like a taser and Embry hashed a hiss through his teeth.
Chanté's eyes snapped up to his. "Hurts?" she whispered.
Gulping down a swallow, he nodded but caught her in his arms as she tried to climb off his lap. "But it's okay," he breathed through a soft smile. "You make me feel good."
Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.
Embry's brow furrowed as her hand lifted to settle over her heart. "Hurts," she told him earnestly and then that hand ferried across the distance to splay over his heart. "But iss okay. You ma-… make-…" she wrinkled her nose, defeated by too many new words.
Embry face inflated with awed understanding. She wasn't blocking out the past, she was appreciating the present. This is what she was trying to say.
It was one of those moments so profound, that everything ground to a halt. He looked into still, quiet eyes, open clear down to her soul without a single pretense standing in the way.
She was fucking amazing.
Chanté's head flowed to the side. "You-…" she tried to cue him out of his stupor.
Embry blinked. "It hurts," he brought his palm around to her heart and then ferried the hand to his own chest, stringing the words together for her. "But I make you feel better."
Her brows knit. "Bet-ter?"
Smoothing his hand over her cheek, he nodded. "More than the hurt," he whispered.
As her face cracked in a smile, she nodded enthusiastically then carefully tried the words on. "You… make me… feewl … bet-ter…"
He leaned in and pressed a cashmere kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad," he breathed reverently over her skin.
An explosion of laughter from the kitchen made her whip around toward the door. He smoothed a reassuring hand over her back and she turned to him with questions
"Your optáye," he pronounced carefully. "Your Pack."
"Pack," she repeated.
Embry nodded with a smile. He'd made sure to snatch that word from Old Quil's vocabulary as he probed around for what she understood. In Lakota the word for herd and pack were the same. It was very convenient.
Another burst of laughter, punctuated by Quil's cackles had her slipping off his lap and turning toward the door. Embry pushed up to his feet, taking a second to adjust his rock hard body, and then stepped up behind her. He'd definitely grown taller – he could gauge it easily now, standing behind the standard against which he'd measure his worth for the rest of his life.
Glancing over her shoulder, she slipped her hand into his and pulled him toward the door.
Embry showed her the bathroom down the hall and then retreated back to lean against the guest room doorway in an attempt to give her at least the illusion of privacy, though she didn't seem to need it. She'd tried to pull him in with her, but he'd drawn that line too.
Lines. Fucking lines.
But like he'd told Jacob, he had this. His heart had always been a merciless master.
He listened to the animated chatter coming from the kitchen, in spite of Bella's intermittent shushes. Trying to keep a Pack of wolves quiet was mission impossible, even for their Alpha.
And he expected this was part of Jacob's plan anyway: to get them up and into the mix. He was masterful at holding a Pack of raging wolves and damaged men together and he'd generously insulated them for long enough.
It was time.
Embry hadn't faced his Pack after the fight with Paul yet and he idly wondered how it would feel with his imprint now at his side.
Holy mother of shit. He'd imprinted. It was finally starting to sink in.
And it change everything.
Suddenly the enormity of this next step slammed into him like a mack truck. So far, he'd been so focused on her, that he hadn't really processed much else. With all the events of the last 24 hours he felt like he'd simply stepped out of his life, instead of having it transform before his eyes.
Well, now he was about to step back into it…
And he was a changed man.
His life had be repurposed and he wasn't going to be content with waiting for the scraps anymore. His Pack was just going to have to get used to it.
The bathroom door opened then and Chanté peeked out, turning her supernatural ear into the sound of his heartbeat. Smiling softly, he pushed off the doorframe as she stepped out of the bathroom and his body seized.
She'd unbound her braid and brushed it out and it fell in shining rippling satin over one side and down to her thigh. God she was so incredibly beautiful.
And she didn't seem to care on bit. She absently pushed her hair behind her shoulder as she stepped into his embrace.
"You ready?" he whispered, inhaling her scent and relishing the way it instantly settled his anxiety. Everything would be okay. He had this.
Picking her cheek up from his chest, she looked up with an open face and quiet eyes.
Embry tipped his chin down the hall and repeated, "You ready, Chanté?"
Blinking her understanding, she nodded.
Embry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her down the hall. As soon as they were in sight of the kitchen, the room fell silent, every eye turning their way as they made their way across the living room. Chanté shrank into his side and he rubbed a reassuring hand down her arm.
He leaned down to her temple. "Your optáye," he murmured.
They stopped in the doorway ad she pulled her eyes from a room crowded with huge muscled men. "Pack," she whispered.
He nodded with a smile.
"Hi Chanté," Bella jumped into action as she turned from the counter.
The girl swung a bright smile out to the approaching woman. With another glance up at Embry, Chanté stepped out from under his arm and tipped down her chin. With a soft smile, Bella touched noses.
"So you know some of these monsters already," she threw a smirk over her shoulder at Embry as she wrapped an arm around her waist and brought the girl into the room.
Kim was stepping up to bat, pulling her mate along with her. "You remember Jared?"
"Hey, Chanté," he lifted a hand as Kim smiled and swung the other between them. "Holy shit, Emb, did you grow again?" he gaped.
Embry shrugged a nonchalant shoulder.
Levi popped up from the table and strode to his side.
"Wee-vi," Chanté greeted him – still struggling with "L's."
The boy smiled and repeated his name, exaggerating the pronunciation. "La-… Llleevi."
Chanté tried again, "Lee-vi." And the boy nodded.
Bella pulled her toward where Quil and Collin had gotten up from the table.
Embry shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe to keep from trailing her like some control-freak bodyguard. He wanted to give her the space to explore.
"Do you remember Quil from earlier?" Bella asked her. They hadn't really been officially introduced but Chanté nodded, offering a small smile.
"Hey-ho," Quil raised a hand and then yanked his thumb at his compadre. "And this dude's Collin."
And Embry pushed off his perch with a flash of heat.
The boy was staring, slack-jawed and star-struck. Of course, as an imprint he saw her as a sister, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate her beauty… and like the little horny cub he was, he was doing nothing to hide it.
Quil glanced up at the Embry's movement and his mouth hitched up in a smirk at the same time he elbowed the kid hard.
Collin stumbled a step with the force and snapped out of it with a hoarse, "Hi." And then blushed like a plumb.
Chanté turned over her shoulder with a smile for Embry that was private and most definitely at the boy's expense. It was just the thing he needed to tear his eyes away from contemplating murder.
When she turned back, Quil was dragging the boy to the refrigerator for a drink.
"Hi Chanté," Nina stepped up with Seth on her heel.
"Nina," the girl smiled.
"Right!" she said brightly. "And this is my mate, Seth."
Grinning ear-to-ear, Seth stretched out his hand and Chanté tentatively touched his fingers. He pulled them into his grip with a theatrical flourish over them.
"En-Chanté," he crooned like the dork he was as he bent and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
With a squeak, she yanked her it back, horror inflating eyes stuck on her hand.
A low growl exploded from deep in Embry's gut and he took menacing stomps forward, fully intending to rip those lax "oh shit" lips off the boy's face.
But his imprint intercepted him, whipping around and holding out her fingers and a stricken expression. Embry crossed the distance in two steps and took her trembling hand in his own, raising it to his mouth and kissing the transgression away with several soft smacks.
She released a traumatized breath as she leaned into him and Embry wrapped his arms around her. He would have generously ignored Seth's boyish antics if it weren't for her reaction. The touch of his mouth to her skin had obviously deeply offended her, and Embry had to admit that some sick little part of him was gratified.
His imprint turned her cheek and stared out of the corner of her eye at where Seth was spluttering an apology.
"You are such an ass," Nina laughed and cuffed him playfully in the back of the head.
But Chanté jumped, round eyes darting up to Embry's like she couldn't believe it. It was adorable and touching but she was obviously upset.
"Shh," he soothed, hands coming up to smooth back the hair on either side of her face as he cupped her head. "They're just playing," he whispered into those wide eyes and then leaned down to tenderly rub her nose.
It all just made it crystal clear what culture shock she was so quietly enduring. And how gentle she was. Embry loved gentle.
Pulling her to his chest with a protective palm, his impugning eyes swept up to skewer his Pack, frozen in almost comical bewilderment.
With a flare of nostrils, Embry met Jacob's eye where he was lounged back in the corner by the refrigerator, watching how his Pack reacted to the new dynamic. At Embry's cue, he pushed off the counter.
"Seth and Collin," his bass rippled over the room and Chanté shivered and pushed her face into his chest.
Embry purred soothingly as Jacob's troubled eyes flitted over her. He then met Embry's as he spoke to his two wolves. "Since they're up," he continued, softening his voice into a felty bass. "You two can start on that screen door now."
It was something obviously pre-planned – his Alpha had predicted who might need to be taken out of the mix. It could never be said that Jacob Black didn't know how to run a Pack.
Embry would have guessed Quil would be the problem, but sometimes the guy surprised him (and Jacob had probably threatened him within an inch of his life). Seth was a good kid, but he was like an overgrown and exuberant puppy with no fucking respect for personal boundaries… obviously.
Wolves needed direction and action and the two in question quickly jumped to the job, gratefully hustling across the room to the back door. Part of Embry was chagrinned, feeling it should be he who replaced the screen since he'd kicked his Alpha through it… but he was pleased to find it was pretty fucking small part.
These moments were his.
"Why don't you guys turn on the game," Jacob suggested-commanded the other wolves who'd apparently decided to just stare dumbly at Embry and his imprint. "Dinner's not for another forty."
Embry pulled Chanté to the side as Jared, Levi and Quil obediently headed for the living room and some Sunday afternoon baseball.
As men hustled out of the room and Bella wrapped her arms around her mate with comforting kisses, Emily left her post at the counter and crossed toward them.
"Hey Chanté?"
At the familiar voice, his imprint picked her head up.
"Do you want to help me?" the woman smiled.
"Help?" her lips curved tentatively but her hands stayed firmly fisted in Embry's shirt.
"Uh huh," Emily stopped right in front of them. "I'm making a salad."
Chanté glanced up at him and he nodded encouragingly and she turned out of his arms but grabbed his hand in a death-grip on the way. Embry agreed… enough exploring for the day.
He felt like the same possessive asshole he saw in his brothers and it irritated him, but this shit was hard. Especially when she was so vulnerable.
Chanté leaned in and Emily smiled broadly and greeted her with a touch to her nose. The woman's eyes darted up to Embry like she was pleased – Embry was taking careful notes too. Apparently Chanté felt most comfortable with Bella and Emily so far.
Holding his imprint's hand he followed the two women toward the counter where Emily had just taken out several tomatoes.
"First we have to wash them," she told her as she turned on the water and checked the temperature. She pulled one of the red fruits off the counter and rubbed it under the faucet in demonstration. "Wash."
"Shower?" Chanté asked brightly.
"Mm hmm," Emily nodded. "Just like that."
With an excited glance at Embry, Chanté released his hand and took the tomato and copied Emily's movements, washing it almost reverently, like it was the most important job in the world.
Emily smiled softly as she stepped to Embry's side. "Emb you have grown, I swear," she cocked her head thoughtfully. "I think you're as tall as Sam now."
"Maybe," he shrugged a dismissive shoulder. The Pack all hovered somewhere between Levi's 6'2 and Sam's 6'6 with Jacob topping out an inch later – he didn't see how it mattered. Except he was starving again, but there was no way he was leaving her side.
"Just put it on the counter again," Emily stepped in at Chanté's questioning glance over her shoulder. "Good job," she lauded gently as the girl took up the next tomato and studiously went about cleaning it.
Emily stroked an affectionate hand over the girl's hair, crimped from the braid and rippling down her back. "She's doing so good, Emb," she met his eye.
He nodded, unable to keep the pride from his lips.
"Y'know," she murmured pensively, turning back to the girl and continuing to smooth her hand over her hair. "Through all this stuff, she's never stared at my scars – not even once?"
Embry blinked, stepping up on Chanté's other side. "Why would she?" he asked her quietly.
He knew some of the damage under those scars still hadn't healed. Even though she adored her mate, Emily was painfully self-conscious about her face and almost never went beyond the confines of family and Pack. He hated that she felt that way.
Emily watched the girl gently place the tomato on the counter and then pick up the last one to wash. "C'mon, Emb," she sniffed bitterly, flicking her eyes up to meet his.
"You're beautiful, Emily," Embry whispered. She was to anyone who could look past imperfections in a shell, and Chanté most certainly did.
Chanté looked up at him and then turned. She nodded soberly and then handed the woman the last tomato.
Emily's eyes were suddenly glistening. "God, you two…" she sniffled, turning with the fruit and pacing down the counter with a quick swipe across her cheeks.
Embry watched her go as he pulled a towel off the hook and handed it to Chanté. She turned up to him with pain in her eyes. "Hurts," she whispered, cannily just under human hearing.
He nodded with a press of lips.
Bella stepped away from Jacob's side where they were silently watching them. "Sam and Brady should be back from their shift soon," she announced a little too brightly. "Then we can start setting the table. The lasagna's going to be another half hour though. I made a veggie one too."
Embry glanced at her with a grateful nod.
Emily had recovered and turned around with a cutting board. "Do you think she's up for learning how to slice?"
"What do you think Chanté?" Embry murmured, stroking a hand down her arm where she'd leaned back into him. "Do you want to help some more?"
She picked her head up off his shoulder and turned with a sober little nod.
"C'mon, I'll show you," he smiled.
He picked up the two tomatoes and led her down the counter to where Emily had placed the plastic cutting board and bowl. "Knife," he pulled the tool out of the block and flicked his finger on the edge. "It's sharp. Ouch." He shook his hand theatrically and she quickly grabbed it in concern, examining his fingers.
Embry chuckled and pulled free, dropping the knife and wrapping her in his arms in front of him. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she immediately relaxed back into him with a contented sigh that made him feel awesome.
Embry smoothed his hands over hers and then reached out and set a tomato down on the cutting board. "We need to slice the tomato," he murmured by her ear as he picked up the knife and sliced the fruit in half while she watched attentively.
Holding the blade, he offered her the handle and tentative fingers slid over the wood. Embry gently slipped his hand over hers and then reached around and picked up her other and placed it on the tomato, caging her in his arms. Hunching down to rest his chin on her shoulder, he carefully steered the knife to chop off the top.
"See?" he whispered.
"Yes," Chanté turned into his cheek, nuzzling him sweetly. It was pure heaven.
Smiling, he guided her hand to make the first slice from the side. And then the next.
"Like this," he told her quietly, straightening as he slowly releasing both hands. She turned and nodded with a bright smile. "Try it," he tipped his chin toward the cutting board as he folded around her and leaned against the counter.
She turned her attention to the tomato again and situated the knife in her hand. Two pearly teeth bit into that plump lower lip as she gingerly cut another slice that was precisely as thick as his demonstration.
She blinked up at him, waiting for his judgment. Embry grinned broadly and nodded before reaching out and snatching up the discarded top. He popped it in his mouth and chewed to the music of her giggle.
And so over the next half an hour, one of Embry's most intimate dreams was fulfilled: watching his mate in the kitchen.
Leaning down and propping his forearms over the counter, he watched as his imprint meticulously sliced each perfect sliver of tomato while she bit down on a smile and graced him with glances from under those long curling lashes. He was mesmerized.
While baseball in the other room droned on over the power screwdriver buzzing on the porch, the other women chatted softly and moved around the kitchen while his Alpha watched from the table and drank his beer.
But Embry was lost in their private world. Chanté would answer one of the women's questions but always bring her eyes and smiles back to him.
It made him feel important and needed and everything he'd always wanted to be.
Embry closed his eyes softly just steeping in the feeling. And the realization hit him hard: even though it had been only a little more than a day with her, he felt …
Loved.
How could that be possible?
A cool slice of tomato was pressed against his lips then and his eyes popped open to Chanté's smile. "Eat," she whispered.
His mouth pounced, playfully capturing her fingers with his lips and she shrieked, pulling them free with a tinkling laugh. Embry chewed the slice under a juicy grin. One thing was for certain: this was the best fucking tomato in the history of man.
Chanté was now on to the second fruit – she wasn't setting any speed records, but who the fuck cared – and she made another exacting slice and offered it up to his mouth again with a theatrically timorous squint.
He was absolutely starving, but this was feeding a different hunger.
Wrapping gentle fingers around her wrist he held her hand steady and leaned in, switching from playful to patient. Instantly her face slipped into serious as he slowly wrapped his lips around the offered slice and suckled it from her fingers.
He wanted so badly to tell her he loved her and it just seemed way too soon. But he just thought he might. So he let his heart beat in each tender kiss to the pad of fingers as he screamed it from his gaze.
Chewing leisurely, he watched soft eyes dart back and forth between his, answering affection sparkling plainly.
"Emmie," she whispered, reaching out to his cheek. He relished her touch as her fingertips rode his chews for a moment and their eyes spoke of things for which neither of them had words.
Bella's phone went off in a musical alarm and Chanté snatched her fingers back with a gasp as she whipped around.
Bella was sitting beside Jacob on the other side of the table, both of them pretending they weren't watching.
"Do you like this?" Bella smiled, holding up her iPhone and letting the harp's scale go on a little longer.
Embry chuckled at his imprint's delight as he pushed off the counter and into a kitchen emptied of all but his Alpha and mate. Long ago the screen door had been replaced and those two absorbed by the baseball game. The other women had gone upstairs to check Facebook on the computer.
"The lasagna's done?" Jacob asked as he stepped over the bench.
At his voice, Chanté stepped into Embry's side, but she didn't seem to be able to tear her eyes away from the device in Bella's hand.
"Here, give it to her," Bella murmured under her breath as she handed the cell off.
"Kinda like a bribe?" Jacob snorted, helping his mate up.
"Whatever works," she muttered, throwing Embry a wink.
Holding up the phone, Jacob skirted the table and slowly approached, trying to tone down that innate prowl, but only marginally succeeding.
Chanté's little fingers dug into Embry's bicep as she scooted halfway behind him.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered, soothing a hand over hers on his arm. "Jake's a good guy. He's your Pack."
Doe-eyes darted up dubiously and he gave her a silky smile.
Jacob stopped several feet in front of them, a smile painted over the way everything about this bothered him. "Here you go, honey," he gentled his voice as the harp continued to sweep up and down its scale.
Apparently the allure of melody won out. Gripping his bicep tightly with one hand, Chanté reached out hesitantly with the other. Gaze locked with hers, Jacob carefully set the cell in her palm.
She pulled it back quickly. "Thank you, Jake," she whispered.
That plastic smile of his turned over into blinding sun. But his imprint didn't see it, her gaze was now locked in absolute awe at the device in her hand.
Embry chuckled at them both.
"It's gonna burn, Jake," Bella chucked across the kitchen.
Meeting Embry's gaze, Jacob sniffed with a roll of his eyes and turned toward the stove.
Chanté released him and slowly stepped back against the counter, cradling the cell in both palms while she gazed at it in wide-eyed wonder.
Embry leaned back against the counter beside her and she absently scooted into him until their arms were touching. "Music," he murmured.
Chanté looked up. "Moosic."
"Music," Embry repeated.
His imprint was too enthralled by exactly that to be bothered with words.
But suddenly the spell shattered.
A harsh jangling ring tore through Embry's ears and Chanté threw the phone with a shriek, diving for his chest. He caught it effortlessly with a long arm and lupine reflexes as he wrapped her tightly into him.
He clicked the sound off with his thumb as Bella grimaced and hurried across the kitchen for the phone. "Sorry," she mouthed.
Embry shook his head absently as he swaddled his imprint in both arms. "It's okay," he whispered into her ear.
Chanté nodded against him as she peeked out to where Bella was exasperatedly telling her mother they were just about to sit down to dinner… and, yes, she was feeling fine.
It was then that Embry noticed the wolves who'd gotten up off the couches and floors and were standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
Jacob did too, apparently. "C'mon, mutts," he growled, as he pulled the first pan out of the stove. "Quit staring and get in here and help."
As the usual pre-dinner bustle overtook the kitchen, Chanté watched for a moment and then with a glance at Embry, turned back to her meticulous tomato-cutting.
Deciding to help her along, he drew another knife from the block and started on the last one. She scooted closer, leaning her head on his shoulder as she carefully sliced. He was done with his tomato before she'd even finished her half, but it didn't seem to bother her – she continued her painstaking slices, humming the scale under her breath.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and watched her move on to her last half. It was so soothing to be around her. Like an eye in the hurricane of activity and chatter behind them, she was content to lean against him in their private little corner of the world and make her exacting slices – not worrying about time or what anyone else thought.
Embry was pretty damn sure he was in love.
The new screen opened exuberantly and Brady popped in to the anonymous greetings that rose around the kitchen.
Chanté turned as Bella swooped him up and guided him over to their spot at the counter. The boy shoved his hands shyly in his pockets.
"This is Brady," Bella introduced. "Bray, this is Chanté, Embry's imprint."
Chanté gifted him with a sparkling smile and he gave her one of his good-natured grins. "Heya, Chanté."
"How are things going with Kammie?" Bella asked him, her brow furrowing in concern.
"It's okay," he shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. "I think it's good to be friends again anyway. We haven't hung out in, like, two years."
Bella nodded encouragingly as Sam stomped his feet off on the porch, and then traipsed through the door. Emily set the dish on the table and rushed across the room to throw herself into his arms.
Chanté glanced over her shoulder and met Embry's gaze with a blinding smile and then started eagerly toward the couple … like she hadn't done with anyone else in the Pack.
Oh, shit.
His stomach dove for his toes as Embry pushed off the counter. Bella was also confused apparently as her gaze darted between them – this was the farthest Chanté had ventured from his side.
She flowed fearlessly up to the intimidating Sam Uley who was currently in the process of trying to swallow his mate whole. The two broke apart as she approached.
"Oh, sorry Chanté," Emily smiled, taking an embarrassed step back from her mate. "Let me introduce you to Sam."
Sam's stalwart mouth curved in a smile.
"Sam," Chanté repeated tipping her chin up in petition.
His brows flew together as his gaze snapped up to where Embry was prowling toward them, sensing imminent disaster… and jealous off his ass.
"Lean down, Sam," Emily tugged on his hand. Her attention fixed on Chanté, she hadn't noticed the tension between the two wolves. "I think she wants to touch noses."
Sam blinked and did what his imprint instructed and the girl leaned up and touched her nose briefly to his. That smile spread a little wider as he straightened and glanced at his mate.
"She's so sweet," Emily cooed affectionately.
Chanté turned around with a sunburst smile… that quickly slid off her face as she met Embry's eyes. She frowned in confusion as she danced the few steps toward him and wrapped and arm around his bicep.
A lissome finger pointed at the bewildered man standing by his mate. "Brother?" she asked quietly, concern furrowing her brow.
Still, it was instant. The kitchen dove into brittle silence.
Chanté's hand tightened on his arm as her wide eyes swept the room behind them – all activity jerked to a halt. Embry could feel every set of eyes burning into his back like hot pokers.
She eased around in front of him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his racing heart. "Sorry, Emmie," she whimpered, squeezing him tight and holding him together when he might have just crumbled into a pile of ash.
Sam's face had inflated in patent shock in stark contrast to his clenched jaw. Emily wasn't faring much better.
Embry watched Sam struggle to swallow, his Adam's apple hopping in his throat. "Is it true?" he croaked.
Embry wanted to puke. He nodded minutely as his eyes fell to his imprint who he was now clinging to for dear life.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Embry's gaze ventured up again and a shoulder jumped. " 'Thought you knew."
Sam's brow was knit as he slowly shook his head and took a step closer. "Collin and Brady… then Levi," he rasped. "The bloodlines were wrong. They-… They weren't supposed to Phase…" his babble fell off his tongue as he stopped right in front of Embry. "I-I thought you'd tell me… if-…" Sam had never sounded so vulnerable.
Chanté lifted her head from Embry's chest and she turned, slipping around to Embry's side.
Sam's eyes were flitting rapidly over Embry's face as if searching for similarities. He knew his features were diluted because his mother was only a quarter Quileute, but Sam found them all the same in his strong jaw, broad mouth, high cheekbones and, now, height.
Chanté pulled away as Sam took the last step and pulled Embry into a bracing hug. "Brother," he choked.
Embry's hands hesitantly snaked around the man.
It felt painfully awkward… until warm lissome arms were wrapping around both of them, lacing them together. Embry's imprint leaned her cheek against his shoulder as another set of human arms took the cue and did the same on the other side so they were wrapped between the two women.
And just like that, with their feminine blessing, the macho discomfort transformed.
Years of shame and loneliness melted away into the inexplicable liquid binding of blood ties. Embry was mortified to feel his nose prickling with tears until Sam pulled back with eyes glistening with emotion too.
As the women stepped back, Sam clapped his hands on Embry's shoulders.
This was by far the most demonstrative he'd ever seen Sam Uley and it was a testament to how deeply he was both wounded by his father's abandonment and moved by recovering part of his family too.
"All this time," he murmured while his gaze raked over Embry's face. "We lost all this time…"
And in Sam's eyes Embry found another thing he'd been pushing away.
"I only found about three years ago," Embry mumbled in a lame excuse as his gaze fell between them.
"Still, three years, cub," Sam barked a laugh as he roughly pulled his head in with a ruffle of his hair.
Sam released him with a grin that looked good poured over that stony face.
Then, softly clearing his throat, Sam stepped back and across the boundary of male comfort. He gave Embry one more once over and then turned to where Chanté was quietly watching all of it with a smile so wide, her teeth sparkled.
Sam stepped in and cupped her jaw, leaning down to press his lips to her hairline. She didn't seem bothered at all by the kiss this time.
"Thank you," he murmured over her hair and then pulled back to her soft giggle.
Sam released her and Chanté immediately stepped into Embry's side, turning to beam a wordless soliloquy with wildly smiling eyes.
She was so happy… for him.
Embry didn't have the words so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close while he wiped a brusque fist over his eyes.
He turned back for the first time to the silent room… to find his Alpha waiting for him.
Jacob's tender heart was shining in his eyes as he took the several steps forward and clapped a hand on Sam and Embry's necks.
"This is good," he whispered, looking first at Embry then at Sam. Pressing his lips together he nodded and slapped each of their traps with macho gusto and then turned around to the grinning room.
"Let's celebrate," he pronounced.
And the room exploded.
With Chanté clinging to his side, their Pack seamlessly swallowed them with shoulder bumps and hand slaps and babbling congratulations while somehow dinner magically appeared on the table. Embry laughed and listened while he squeezed his imprint and they exchanged glances and smiles, blissfully sharing this experience together.
Conversations and emotions still running high, everyone settled down in a new configuration both figurative and literal: Sam and Emily moved their places to Embry's end of the table. For the first time, he really felt like he had a place at it.
And everyone enthusiastically dug into the meal
But whether it was the night's revelation, his imprint, or the fight with Paul, it was jarring how different his Pack seemed to react to him. There was a new respect in eyes, words and the hands that passed dishes his way.
For the first time, Embry's Pack felt like family. Maybe it had been all along.
There was just one piece missing… from the conspicuous empty place across the table.
As soon as his ravenous hunger had been fed enough that he could think straight, Embry found himself casting glances at Paul's place, moved down several notches towards Jacob's end by Sam and Emily's shift.
Feeling eyes on him, he glanced down the table to find his Alpha watching him as he tipped back his beer. His eyes were hooded – a combination of worry and anger hardening them to hematite. It was inexcusable to be late to a formal Sunday Pack dinner.
Pressing his lips together, Embry glanced down at his imprint, delicately picking the greens from her salad and ferrying them one by one to her lips while she watched the animated antics of the table. Her fingers curled under the hem of his shorts as she looked up at him large still eyes and a smile.
"Are you doing okay, sweetheart?" he whispered.
That smile deepened and she nodded. He squeezed her closer and pressed a kiss forehead. "Thank you," he breathed, flyaway hairs tickling his lips.
She nestled in closer and reached for another green.
But the first step on the porch stairs had every supernatural head whipping around, followed closely after by their human counterparts as conversation withered into silence. The harsh scraping of wood, heralded their Alpha pushing out his chair.
Squaring dominant shoulders, Jacob stalked across the room, his face a shuttered steel mask.
The screen opened to a scruffy-looking Paul Lahote brandishing a bottle of 190 proof Everclear and their Alpha's growl ripped through the room, making Chanté jump into Embry's side.
Paul looked up with a loose smirk. "See you got it fixed," he swung the screen idly as Jacob prowled toward him with a dangerous jerk in his stride.
He was drunk - or as drunk as they could get – otherwise he'd be dropping to his knees in a plea for his life.
Jacob snatched his bicep up in a fist as he dragged him back out on the porch. "You dare come late?" he snarled. "And fucking drunk?!"
The screen clattered behind the men, leaving the room uncomfortably silent. Bella quickly picked up the ball and ran with it. "So did the Mariners win?" she asked, like she knew the first thing – or gave a shit -about baseball.
Jared jumped on the play. " 'Course not," he laughed. "I don't think that pitcher could hit the side of a barn."
Others threw their hats in the ring with jeers or commentary as the table tried to fill in the cracks with uncomfortable banter… pretending everyone was not listening to the hissed conversation outside.
"And you fuckin' reek," Jacob spat to the sound of liquid being poured out over the grass before a bottle was thrown over it with a clunking roll. "How many girls, Lahote? You'd better be being wrapping it up tight."
Chanté looked up at him with wide confused eyes – thank God, she didn't understand the words.
"That's Paul," Embry whispered, soothing a hand down her back.
Her brow pinched together as she searched his face. Whatever she saw made her nod hesitantly before she turned to pluck another piece of spinach from her salad. Embry squeezed her close as he leaned his cheek on her head and listened to her chew.
As pissed as he was, Embry also felt bad for Paul. He was desperate and lonely, lost and broken under all that mess. Embry had been there too.
And, right now, there was nothing he could do.
Nothing he would do… and risk getting into another fight and showing his imprint his predator side. Paul wouldn't listen to him anyway, not right now. Embry would just have to give it time.
And in the meantime he'd concentrate on keeping his cool. Just the sight of him had sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. He wouldn't let Paul's problems become his own - he'd made that mistake already last night.
Suddenly he realized that, with wary covert glances, everyone at the table was watching him. It felt weird – they were all looking at him like they did Jacob when he was teetering on the edge of losing his shit. Like they were afraid of him.
Come to think of it, it was actually kind of funny.
He sniffed a laugh and took another bite of the leftover ham Bella had given him to try to help his body catch up. Outside he could hear Jacob wrapping up his lecture with an Order whose power everyone in the room could taste: he was not to speak to Embry or his imprint.
It felt like a weight had been lifted from Embry's shoulders and he could breathe a little easier. His imprint noticed, of course.
"Okay?" she asked quietly.
Nodding, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he chewed. Those little fingers brushed over his knee, her soothing touch easily dissolving the rest of the tension in his spine.
The screen door opened again and all heads tucked, eyes staying locked on their plates as their Alpha stalked back into the room.
All heads but one.
Glancing down the table in confusion, Chanté turned over her shoulder and watched, cowering into Embry's side.
Jacob brusquely took his place at the head of the silent table, his face still smoking with rage. Bella fearlessly reached out and pulled his hand from table to press it to her swollen middle and his eyes snapped to his pregnant mate.
She smiled and that fury effortlessly melted from Jacob's face. With a shaking sigh, he leaned in and drew her mouth into a deep and shameless kiss.
Embry smiled softly at how pussy-whipped their big bad Alpha really was… and how, if anything, Embry was now even worse. His eyes fell to his imprint, still turned over her shoulder and now watching Paul slink along the counter like a dog with its tail between his legs.
He headed straight for the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
His imprint turned and met Embry's gaze with sadness. It stabbed him straight through bruised memories and his flailing heart. In her eyes he saw himself only two short days ago.
But he tried to soothe her as best he could. "It's okay," he lied in a whisper.
Eyes wide and serious, she shook her head and then turned back to the man who'd shrunk into the corner of the counters and was tipping back his beer.
Propping her hand on his shoulder, Chanté pushed off the bench. Embry covered her fingers and she turned around to his stare. "No," he hissed.
Delicate brows pushed together as thoughtful eyes caressed his face for a moment. "Iss okay," she whispered. With a squeeze of his shoulder she stepped over the bench.
Embry watched her flow across the room on those little pointed feet, her hair swaying heavily behind her.
He just-… he just couldn't.
Hopping the bench he prowled after her, his eyes snapping up to the wolf who straightened at their approach. He didn't trust Paul as far as he could throw him, and – thanks to last night – he now knew just how far that was.
Paul's gaze darted up from his imprint and his mouth oozed up in an ugly smirk that had Embry's lips flashing up from warning canines.
With a bitter sniff, Paul's eyes cut over to the side as he tipped back the beer.
Chanté stopped right in front of him, Embry inches behind her.
Paul's gaze cut from one side to the other – anywhere other than the girl openly staring up at him a foot away.
Until a dainty fingers reached up to his jaw.
A sharp hiss was expelled through his teeth as Paul's eyes froze, grounded to the side. Slowly they listed forward.
Once he'd met he gaze, he couldn't seem to look away. Fingertips resting lightly on his cheek like they were holding his eyes in place, Chanté canted her head with a soft smile.
Paul's tight-lipped swallow squirted audibly in this throat.
"Hurts?" she whispered and those fingers fluttered down to his stained shirt to rest over his heart.
Paul's lips popped opened with no sound – thank God – as his face crumpled in a scowl. Unperturbed, Chanté laughed softly and her hand slipped down to his, fisted on the counter. Wrapping long fingers around his wrist, she tugged.
"Eat, Paw," she glanced toward the table.
Shockingly the man allowed himself to be pulled away from the counter but he stopped, twisting his wrist free… very gently.
Chanté didn't seem to mind. She took a few steps, glancing over her shoulder to see if he was following.
Paul finally tore his eyes away and they slipped limply to the floor. He tipped up the bottle as he took the first step.
Seeming satisfied, Chanté turned fully around and gifted Embry with a beautiful smile.
He had no idea what expression was on his numb face only that at those bright eyes, his lips could do nothing but curve in resonance. Her hand slipped into his, as naturally as it belong there (it did), and she pulled him back to the table like they'd done nothing more than chop a few more tomatoes together.
The Pack was valiantly pretending they weren't focused on the scene across the kitchen like it was the last play of the Superbowl and were muttering a bunch of nonsense that was trying to pass for conversation while eyes skittered away.
He held his imprint's hand as she stepped gracefully over the bench with long lithe legs and then he slipped down beside her. They settled into their places as Paul trudged around the end of the table, a polyester smirk locked in place but eyes glued to the ground.
Bodies shuffled down to make more room for him as he stepped over the bench and sat stiffly down. He drained the rest of his beer and set it on the table.
Chanté pulled free another green and chewed it while she watched him out of the corner of her eye.
Conversation rose, trying to drown the discomfort of their brother, subtly slumped in his place, and forgiving hands passed the meaty lasagna down the table.
It was painful to watch this shit from the outside. That had been Embry two short days ago: pushing away everything that was trying to be passed his way for what he thought he deserved…
Nothing.
Paul took the pyrex dish in his hands and froze for a moment, eyes blindly staring at the melted cheddar cheese. He visibly swallowed and his eyes darted down the table to where Embry's imprint was pressed into his side and quietly watching.
His gaze snapped back to the casserole balanced awkwardly in both palms. A hand shifted to reach for the spoon, but he just couldn't...
Huffing out a harsh breath from his cheeks, he let the dish fall to the table with rattling clatter.
All conversation ground to a halt as he jumped the bench. Paul shoved both hands through his hair as he stalked behind turned heads, with a stiff spine and jerking stride that made a brusque beeline for the back door.
The screen hit the house with a bang as he shoved through it and out into the falling dusk.
Embry slowly turned back to the silent table and he glanced down at where Chanté's eyes were glued to the door, now swinging in the wind.
Jacob's chair grated as he pushed to his feet and prowled across the kitchen. He quietly closed the screen and turned back to the kitchen.
"Let's go ahead and start the meeting," he pronounced quietly.
Embry looked down to where Chanté was struggling quietly with liquid eyes. A single kamikaze tear crested her lashes and fled down her cheek and Embry's hand lifted to tenderly cup her jaw and tip it up, catching her heartache with his thumb.
Then she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his skin and wept piteously.
Ignoring the stares at the table, Embry soothingly stroked over her head while her breath bucked against him. It physically hurt to see her cry.
Bring it on. Anything she needed.
But he wasn't going to sit here under his nosy Pack's stare – family or not. Not when she was so vulnerable.
"C'mere, sweetheart," he whispered as he pulled her closer. Face pressed into his neck, she crawled into his lap and he swung his legs over the bench, pulling her effortlessly up with him as she wrapped those long legs around him.
Suddenly Emily was at his side, gently pulling her hair free to made sure it was demurely hanging over where her dress had been hiked up to her hip. He met her eyes with his thanks before he turned.
His imprint clinging to his neck with soft hitching sobs, he met his Alpha's gaze. "Fill me in," he murmured, giving him no choice in the matter.
Jacob didn't need one. He was his brother too.
His Alpha nodded curtly and Embry turned toward the door.
Sam's pointed stare snagged his eye along the way. Behind the usual somber intensity Embry could see much more now: support, approval, reassurance.
A soft smile fluttered over his lips as Embry carried her out of the kitchen and down the hall to their room, shutting the door on Jacob's imperious bass. He could still hear it of course as he walked slowly toward the unmade bed, but this little room was becoming a haven where nothing outside of it mattered. It couldn't stay that way forever, but for now…
He sat down on the bed, letting everything fall away from his purpose weeping softly in his arms. "Shh," he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair as he smoothed a palm over the back of her head.
Sniffling, Chanté looked up with eyes that broke Embry's heart. "Paw hurts," she whimpered, just guilelessly holding out to him how much she felt it.
Embry felt it too. He always fucking felt it.
But now he wasn't alone and it didn't hurt so bad.
Pressing his lips together he nodded once as he ghosted his knuckles over her tearstained cheek in concern. "He'll get better," he whispered. "We'll help him." Some way, somehow, sometime, they'd figure out a way.
Her eyes darted between his while little residual hiccups made her breath hitch. He smiled sadly at the ruthless empathy swimming in those eyes. She bore her own heavy burdens and still that generous heart was fearlessly willing to give.
She could have so easily, but she didn't turn away.
Embry was most definitely in love.
He tenderly stroked over her cheek, collecting her tears like diamonds as his eyes memorized every pore of golden skin. "I used to be like Paul," he whispered as he slowly lay back on the bed, bringing her with him.
She settled on his chest, artless eyes darting between his and collecting all the little pieces of his heart he didn't have the words or courage to speak.
His hands skated up her back to push her hair behind first one ear, then the other as he gazed into those dark endless eyes, so achingly open and caring. "Then you came along…"
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