Disclaimer – I own nothing.
A.N – Thank you guys so much! I don't think I'll ever tell you guys that too much! I know I'm cutting it super close, but this chapter ending gave me SUCH a headache to write—I knew how I wanted it, but actually writing it out and getting the same result was a different story. Honestly, I have no idea how you guys will react to this chapter, but just know that the choices I made in this chapter weren't on a whim. You wouldn't believe how hard I'm psychoanalyzing Bella and Jacob right now, haha, seriously. Anywho, hope everyone enjoys, and that it's up to scruff!
To Jibrah, booklovur217, BeckieT108, jgood27, OrangeLamb, PastOneonta, alba1020, seidkonacat, Renee, S1yWolf, mrslisablack, kouga's older woman, Crisely, Carcar1012, Guest (1), Guest (2), teamjacob0729, Holidai, Mysteriousreader1990, PernFan, Guest (3): Can I give you all a hug via internet? Well, I'm doing it! You guys simply rock! Like you wouldn't BELIEVE! Every time I read a review it makes me smile, and when I feel stuck while writing I re-read your reviews as inspiration not to give up, so THANK YOU!
On that note, thank you to all who have been silently reading, favorited, and/or followed! I feel the silent love, too! Hope everyone likes this chapter—*slightly nervous look!*
/Like smoke cigarettes, I inhale these regrets.
I can't change what I've become; there's pain and there's glory, but this is my story
I'm asking everyone: Has anybody seen all my wasted love?
I've been down every street, no, I won't give up
If I have to die, let me testify, that's how it's gonna be
Has anybody seen all my wasted love?
-Wasted Love, Matt McAndrew
Chapter 7 – The Woman He Lost and the One Who Was Found
Weeks pass, and nothing of note happens…except Edward disappears for two out of the three weeks. I want to ask Jacob if he knows why, but I'm worried that my questions will be interpreted as interest. I broached the subject with Jessica—queen of gossip—but all she told me was that Dr. Cullen usually takes his adopted children hiking on sunny days, which would have been useful, except that his "siblings" were in class, and it hadn't been sunny at all in a while.
Maybe I scared him off? I can only hope, but there's something deep inside of me that yearns for the danger that I know Edward brings, simply with his presence. There's something wonderfully forbidden about thinking about him, that has him more and more on my mind the longer he's away.
The pull and fire recoil from the thoughts and foreign feelings, and I find myself getting accustomed to the panic attacks—I'm learning how to cope. But I can feel the distance, however small, between Jacob and me.
I ask him where he's going, he says "to handle some things."
I ask him how the pack are doing, he answers, "same ol', same ol'."
I ask him when I can visit Emily, he responds, "soon." But soon hasn't come since the day I visited and was slapped in the face with Jacob's mortality.
Jacob still picks me up, and drops me off most days. He still kisses me like the sky is falling, but there's a gap that the pull can't stand, so I try to fill it with questions of Edward.
It's wrong, on so many levels, but I feel like the closer I try to hold on to Jacob, the more I pry, and the harder everything seems.
I feel like I'm in chains, grasping at an imprint that exists only in my mind and heart. I can't deal with all the mystery, and so I decide to visit Charlie at the station—Jacob couldn't pick me up this morning. I could care less that it's the middle of a school day, or that Jacob might be able to come to pick me up to follow me home, only to find that I'm not there.
Let him worry, the fire hisses, and it throws me off—I'm not used to the fire attacking Jacob. But I realize, it's not the fire that came with the imprint, but the fire that naturally lives inside of me. It's the fire that flares when anger wells up in my heart, and I finally realize that I'm angry. I'm so angry at Jacob for letting any type of distance grow between us. Together, but I feel like the sentiment has changed since that fateful night. It's like we were on a one way track towards heaven, but that day changed everything—it was like a cap, and Jacob won't let me go pass.
"Hey, Jim," I say to the officer at the front desk. He's got beady eyes and a long nose, but his perpetually impish smile makes him easily the most handsome officer on the force. "Is my dad in?"
"Sure is, little lady," Jim makes a sweeping gesture with his hand, and I float past him with a nod and a smile.
Knock Knock, and the smile that lights up Charlie's face could put the lights in Times Square to shame. Guilt creeps up at me—I should visit him more often at work.
We say our hello's and sit down, but there's a calculating look in Charlie's eyes that lets me know that he knows that I'm not here for a social call. I need help, desperately.
"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" he asks. There's no accusation in his voice, and I relax. At least I'm not in trouble.
"I need some…advice," I try to start slowly, feeling out the words in my mouth. He doesn't say anything, and so I continue. "I know I haven't known Jacob for long, but we have this—this connection. But…he's kinda keeping me at arms length, y'know? It's like we've hit a—a road block on how far he'll let me in…and, well…I guess I need you to tell me how to get past it. How do I get him to open up more?"
"Bells," Charlie sighs, and sits back in his chair. "Maybe he's pulling back for a good reason."
"There's no "good" reason to not let me all the way in."
But maybe there is. Maybe the imprint—fuck the imprint, Jacob had said and he was right. This is about us—about his inability to share his secrets with someone who cares so much about him.
Or I'm just stupid and clingy, and tend to blow things out of proportion. I itch for my novels, for any type of security, but I'm stronger than that. I know I am, I've proven it. So, instead, I cling to the look on Charlie's face—the weariness and the lines that travel around his eyes and tell a long story.
"Baby girl," he sighs again. I know that there's so much he wishes to tell me, and so much that I know he won't. "I know you want to know everything about everything, jus' like your old man, but you can't push that boy."
"I'm not pushing!" With one look, the truth spills forth grudgingly. "…much." At least now I know how Charlie became sheriff.
"Pushing Jacob won't do you a lick of good if he's anything like his chief. Stubborn lot, they are, but more importantly, private. You have to give Jacob space, and whatever it is that he's keeping back will eventually come out. The truth rarely stays hidden for long, Bells. Just the trick of life, is all."
"If I give him any more space, we'll be on opposite sides of the galaxy!" I joke, but the pull recognizes the validity in Charlie's words. I need to let this incessant need to know everything go…but…it's a part of who I am.
I've never asked Jacob to change, but I don't want to change either. Merge, not remake. Together. But now it feels like I'm being forced to remake, or else I run the risk of losing Jacob.
"Really?" Charlie smirks, and my gut gives a little jump in apprehension. "Because I'm pretty sure Mrs. Stanley heard from her kid that you and Jacob can barely keep your hands off each other, never mind that you're in public." I groan in mortification, and my face looks and feels like a volcano erupting. But Charlie simply laughs, a slight blush staining his cheeks, and says, "Sounds pretty close to me."
I want to tell him that being right next to each other, heck, on top of each other sometimes, too, has nothing to do with being close. But I don't have the heart—too caught up in his roguish happiness.
After I leave the station, I drive around for a while. My hands itch and my heart yearns, and I don't know what to do except drive until I find some solace in being alone.
When I finally enter the parking lot, classes are done, and there's a polite knock knock on my window. I turn my head to see him. Edward. Topaz eyes stare into mine for a moment, and I feel the thrill of being so close to darkness shoot through me. But the aversion runs too deep, and I remember the last time I was in his presence. I remember how dazzled I was, and how corrupt I felt.
My glare is fierce, and instead of rolling down my window, I open the door and swing my legs so they're dangling over the side of the truck.
Pull. I know, I know, but there's nothing I can do. He doesn't say anything, and the longer the moment stretches, the closer I feel he's getting to me…no…he is getting closer.
"What do you want?" There are too many conflicting emotions echoing inside of me. I want him. I hate him. I want to crush him. Perhaps he's driving me to insanity.
"You."
The answer is simple, but it hits me like a freight train, and just like that I'm afraid again. I forget that I've proven I'm strong. I forget that I have a pack that would back me up at a moment's notice. I forget the imprint, though the pull and fire haven't let up.
I forget myself, and I'm falling into him. It's almost as though I can feel him somewhere in my soul, attaching himself, stretching me from the inside to accommodate his presence.
No. I don't want this. But where's Jacob? He's not here. He hasn't been here with me for a while. He's—ripping Edward away from me and slamming him against the truck so hard I'm sure that it's dented.
The haze lifts, and I'm left with a warmth between my legs that I didn't have before—a warmth for him. I'm disgusted, and the disgust runs so deep that I can barely breathe for a moment, it consumes me so much.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my girl?" Jacob growls.
"We're just talking, mutt." Edward glares right back, but there's an edginess to his voice. I see it for what it is. I see him for what he is: afraid.
"No," Jacob hisses. The raw power in his voice shakes me, and elevates me to new heights. Mine. "You don't talk to her ever. You hear me? I see you talking to my girl one more time and it'll be the last time you'll have a tongue to talk with."
"Calm down, Black" Edward's cultured voice attempts to deescalate the situation, but it's too late. I look around to find that everyone is watching the scene.
"Try me, Leech," Jacob shoves him against the truck again. "Please fucking try me. I've had it with you. You think I can't smell you in her room? You think I can't fucking smell you around her house? I haven't burned your ass to the ground out of respect for the treaty and the Doc, but I'm done being magnanimous. Tell the Doc that if I catch you or your scent anywhere near her again the treaty's over."
Jacob's words rush over me, and I feel a high—we don't feel so distant right now—but panic seizes me.
"He didn't mean that," I say knowing that Jacob and all the Cullens can hear me. Jacob's eyes swivel to mine, but he doesn't move. He says "yes, I did" and lets Edward go.
There's a finality to his words that scare me a bit. I can't be the reason that Jacob starts a war. I just can't. The imprint isn't supposed to cause pain, right? War is pain. War is wrong—especially over me. How could he ever explain this to the pack? To the tribe? His people who trust him to protect, not incite rage and horror.
Images pass by me like a whirlwind, and I am lost in pictures of Seth, Paul, Sam and Jacob—all mutilated and bleeding, hurt beyond repair…over me…it's too much. I can't.
"Jacob," I plead, but I see the triumph in Edward's eyes. He thinks I'm pleading for him. The fire rages a bit in indignation, but I push it down. I can't fight the fire right now when I'm trying to feed my fear into Jacob.
I know he feels me, because he sends a warmth I hadn't felt from him in a while. It assures me that whatever he decides, I have nothing to be afraid of. I want to believe him, and the dream is the truth so I let his emotions comfort me. I let the rage that naturally lies beneath the surface take the place my sudden unwanted and unbidden desire for Edward had occupied.
"Don't start something you can't finish, mutt" Rosalie Cullen says, and I hadn't noticed when all the Cullens had approached. I look at them, let my eyes wander over each of them, and I can see the anxiety in the rigid way they hold themselves. I see the inhuman stillness that keeps them locked in place, like a statue.
Monsters. Yea, at this moment they really do look like monsters. I let my eyes fall back to Edward, and rage like I had never known before threatens to consume me—how dare he make me want him? Even for a second, it was a second too long, and I feel dirty.
I feel powerless—stripped of my own will. Violated.
Jacob touches my arm, and I realize I'd missed what had been said between Jacob and the rest of the Cullens.
He looks at my eyes, and nods towards the truck. I understand what he wants, as if it's my own will, and I climb into the truck, rev up the engine, and leave the parking lot, Jacob right behind me on his bike.
But as I turn my eyes to scan the woods for a moment, I see bright topaz gaze staring right back at me. Monster.
Silence engulfs us as we sit in my kitchen. Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it, and I worry incessantly.
"I—" Jacob starts, but he cuts himself off. It's like he doesn't know where to start, and the fact of the matter is that neither do I. I don't know what's wrong, and yet I know exactly what's wrong.
"Jacob," I sigh, saddened that this is how we communicate now, only to realize that we never really communicated that much about the important things, did we? At first I thought I was losing my mind, only to be engulfed by Jacob's limited truth that shed so much light. I was so grateful, but the feeling passed, and now I'm left with this enormous lack.
"Did I ever mention what happened between Paul and Lauren?" Jacob asks me abruptly, his voice gruff but warm. I want to bathe in that warmth, but I take what I can and I shake my head "no." He continues, "Paul…well, he's not the easiest guy to handle. Mood swings don't even cover it, but he's a good guy. A really good guy, and she's…well, her. You're friends now, so I'm sure y'know what I mean."
He pauses, and in his pause I let myself picture the girl I know with Paul. The Lauren with the tough exterior, and the fire eyes—and I realize that they do fit, somehow. It's strange, and not something I voice out loud, but I can see.
"Were they ever together?" I ask, but I already know the answer. I already know the ending to their story, too, and a sadness I wasn't expecting assaults me. I remember the longing on Lauren's face, and I feel for her.
"Yea," Jacob whispers, and there's a heaviness in the air that makes me uncomfortable. I'm worried that there's so much more. Pull. I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle all this, whatever this is. "They were together, and man, I never thought I'd see the day that Paul would rather stay at home watching a chick flick with his girl, rather than party. But I did see that day. I saw it, and they were…well, them, but great. They were together…and then Paul phased."
"He broke up with her because he phased?" I felt the beginnings of indignant rage simmer, but Jacob's sharp, bitter laugh cut through the haze. "What—what am I missing?"
"He didn't break up with her," Jacob looks me in the eyes, steady. "She broke up with him."
And it's like the air leaves me for a moment. It had never occurred to me that she would walk away, not with the want that I had seen in her eyes. My brain can't fathom Jacob's truth, but the pull knows he's telling the truth. The ache that belongs to Jacob inside of me tells me that it's the truth.
"Why?" I whisper, and now I understand why Jacob whispers; we're observers, discussing someone else's pain.
"Because she couldn't stand the secrets," Jacob declares and it tears at me. Lauren is me. "She couldn't take the not knowing, and Paul, well, he couldn't take anything at the time. It was bad—for all of us, but especially for him. He's practically feral, but we—the pack—need that. We need him to be feral for us, so that we can hunt without reservation. He does that for us, but it comes at a price. He can't just shut it off and on; when he accepted the wolf, like none of us ever have before, it's permanent. I let him do that—"
"You have nothing to feel guilty about!" I practically jump on him. I feel his remorse, but I can't understand it. He did what he had to do. They all did.
"You say that now," Jacob stands up and walks towards the window. It's the first time we've been so separate in the same space since we re-met. "But you see me as I am, not how I was."
"I'm sure you were a great leader, even at the beginning," I give him the benefit of the doubt, but the ache knows he resents it. Maybe all I do is remind him of how much he lacked when he first phased.
"I wasn't a great leader," he confesses as he runs a hand through his short cropped hair. He pulls at the roots for a second, torn in the pain of the past. "I was petulant, and scared, and a shadow of the person I should've been. I sat there, in front of someone I had known my whole life, even if we had never been friends, and let the wolf consume him because I knew I couldn't let it consume me. I couldn't merge with myself because I was too caught up in trying to keep things the same instead of recognizing that everything had changed, and I needed to change with it."
I don't have words that will comfort him, and I feel my lack acutely. I feel the ache and pull whispering that I know how to comfort him. But I can't focus on that, not here, not now. Not when we're discussing something so important. Maybe this is the moment I'd been waiting for—the moment when he lets me in.
Perhaps he doesn't need me to comfort him, but to let him feel what he feels, and be okay with it.
"Paul doesn't blame you, you know? I saw it with my own eyes—you're like the sun to him. To all of them."
"Yea," he says bitterly.
"So what? You're going to throw yourself a pity party?" I ask, and look away from him. Lashing out isn't going to help him, but the fire had flared for a second before I could reign it in.
"No," his voice is strong and powerful—the Jacob I know, the Jacob he is now. "What's done is done. I can't change that, but we—you and me—we don't have to be Paul and Lauren."
"We're not," My eyes snap to his, and I answer quickly. Too quickly. There's a knowing in his eyes that I don't want to acknowledge or try to understand. Mine. Nothing could ever change that, I repeat to myself, but the pull and fire roar.
"Yet," he says simply.
The simplicity in the word hits me hard and I feel my chest tightening slowly, but Jacob doesn't walk towards me. He doesn't wrap me in his arms, and let the pull reconnect. Instead, he stands still and lets his voice hover over me—layers and secrets hidden in the tone.
"Paul," Jacob looks out towards the forest—seeing the past. "He loved her like no body's business. He, fuck, he would have crucified himself on the alter of her love if it would guarantee him salvation…because, well, she was his salvation. She was everything, but every time he left to patrol, every time she asked questions that he couldn't answer—it tore at them. There's only so much someone can take, I guess."
"And she left him," I whispered. I'm not Lauren. I'm not. But I could be—so easily. No. Pull. Fire. I could never be. Swans don't know how to stop loving, I remind myself.
But I'm half Renee, and she sure knows how to walk away.
"No," Jacob moves away from the window and kneels in front of me. His eyes are haunted, but there's a hope shinning through that I could never imagine. It's too real, too enticing, and suddenly I begin to hope too. "She didn't leave him, he lost her. With every lie, every excuse, he pushed her away…and I don't want to lose you like he lost her."
I let his words sink into me, let my chest unclench, let my soul reconnect with his. Together.
So I ask him the question he continuously evades: "Where do you go when you leave?"
"Depends on the day and the hour," He walks back to the chair, and sits like Charlie—tired. "Some days I have to go to tribal meetings, other days I've got to patrol the area for them. And on days like today, I've got to go check on the pack."
"How's the pack doing?"
"Not great, but we've seen worse days," I can tell he wants to stop there, but he forces himself to continue. Maybe he's never had to share so much with anyone before. "Jared imprinted a couple of days ago."
"I thought that's supposed to be a good thing?" I smile, but I feel his anxiety. I don't understand it, but I don't let myself drown in it. Focus.
"It is for you and me—we weren't attached to anyone before this," Jacob pierces my soul with his eyes, and suddenly I'm clinging to his hand desperately. "But Jared, well, he had never asked her out or anything, but everyone this side of the state knew that he was crazy about Kateri Rainwater…she was his sun, but…well, you know how strong the imprint is."
"So what? He stops caring about her?" the words are out of me before I can even comprehend them. I don't feel forced to care for Jacob, but is that exactly what it is? Are we simply compelled, with no free will?
The seeds of doubt try to take root in my mind.
"No," Jacob shakes his head and looks out the window. "The problem isn't that he stops caring. The problem is that he can't stop caring, and he has to try to spend time with a girl he would have never spared a second glance…The imprint is made for the wolf, not the man, Bells."
What does that even mean? I'm so confused that it's as if I'm spinning on the spot—round and round I go, but I don't fall down. Jacob's here, but…
"I—I thought that we," I choke on my own words but I push through the haze of fear and desolation trying to rip through me. "You and me, merged. I thought we were made for each other."
"We did merge," he looks me in the eyes, steady. His eyes hold me to the ground—ground me to him. "But you weren't made for anyone other than yourself, Bella. The imprint shows the wolf his equal, his perfect match…but it's not the man's choice. Once I looked into your eyes, I knew there could never be anyone else for me—the imperative inside of me is too strong. But the imprint can't care, Bella. Not really. The wolf doesn't understand love and affection—it's simple. Home, shelter, mate, protect; it possesses. "
Jacob continues to explain, and talk, but it's as if I'm underwater. It's like my ears are plugged and I can see his lips moving, but I can't hear a sound. He doesn't want me, not really. The pull that I had gotten used to coils and springs, and I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't.
Jacob's hands are all over me, his mouth moves, trying to soothe me, but I can't hear him.
"You don't want me," I whisper brokenly. Why? I know I push too much, and I'm a little needy, but I care so much, regardless if it's too soon.
"Shit, Bells!" He grips my face and forces me to make eye contact. In his eye I see a tenderness that fights against a storm; my fingers dig into his forearms, desperately. "I want you, I swear it!"
His avowal calms the pull and the words spring from me, "But you said-"
"I said the truth, but the truth isn't always black and white," his words seem to be torn from deep inside of him. "I'm alpha, and I know you don't really get it. You can't get it because I never try to explain—the heat that you feel? It's a residual effect of the fire I feel all the time. It's like a fucking volcano inside of my veins, and it pulls me in a thousand directions—the pack, my tribe, my family. It pulls me to you, and no, you weren't my choice, but I want you just as much as my wolf. I want you, and I can tell you right now that I would have wanted you without the wolf. The imprint forces us to merge, but it can't force us to care, to feel affection. There's always a distinction, no matter how small, between us and our wolves and we fight everyday, every hour, to keep that distinction alive. We fight because it's in that difference that lies our humanity—shit, I'm not even sure if I'm making any sense to you."
"You care," I simplify, and somehow in such simple words, the sentiment means so much more.
"Yea," He smiles lightly, and I smile shyly in return. Is this the way we get back to being us? I hope so, but he doesn't stop, and I'm swept up in his pit of truth. Jacob pulls me from my chair onto his lap, but I need some control, so instead of sitting on his lap like a child, I straddle him like a woman. He lets out a grunt when I plop down, but otherwise continues undisturbed. "I care, and we did merge, but you and me, we're not like the rest. We can't be because the alpha in me is too strong, too feral."
"I don't understand," I tell him my own truth. "Why have you been pushing me away, just when I thought you were going to pull me closer?"
I'm past being insecure in my words regarding him—right now all that should lie between us is honest emotion, and let the chips fall where they may. Imprint. The chips will always fall in place with us anyway, right? Mine.
His hands make trails on my arms, and his heat seeps into me; I'm filled with him so completely—his residual heat inside of me, the fire, and the heat from his hands scorching me on the outside.
"I needed some distance, some perspective," he admits, and I worry that this might be one confession too many and he'll break. But we, we are strong together, aren't we? "I know it hurt you, I could feel it, but the smell of the leech around your house was too much for me. Then I'd notice the trail to your room and I just—I want to burn the fucking world to the ground just thinking about it…I lost it today…when I smelt you're…"
It takes me a moment, but I get his meaning—my desire. No, no, it wasn't me, I want to cry out…but it was, wasn't it? It was some part of me that's too dark. The blush that taints my cheeks are of shame, and I know he can feel it rolling into him by waves after waves. I want to ask about Edward being around my house, in my room, but I figure one issue at a time.
"It's him," my hands lift and run through his hair. The silkiness slides through my fingers, and I want to yank at them, and smooth them out—I want his pain to be as pleasurable as the pain he causes me when he kisses me roughly, and grips me so tightly. "He forces the desire on me somehow. He can drag it out somehow—like he's trying to get a grip on my soul…"
I'm pretty sure that I sound like a lunatic, but it helps my conscious that I tried to explain. It helps, but there's something infused inside of me…
"I know," Jacob hisses. "It feels like my chest is being ripped out of my fucking body, when you're near him. When you're near any of them, I know—especially when he tries to dazzle you. The imprint claws at my chest and I can barely hold the wolf back."
And just like that, I understand how hard it must be for him to phase. I hadn't grasped it before, almost like a doctor giving empty sympathy to a patient they can't connect with. The phase isn't like a nine-to-five job—it's all the time, and it tears at him.
"I'm sorry," I lean in and kiss him softly. This isn't about passion, and need; this is about compassion and empathy…because I now understand that being an imprint isn't a nine-to-five job either. "What do you need?" I ask without pretension or expectation.
I realize Charlie really was right, after all—I didn't have to push so hard. All I had done was make things harder on him probably. The truth will come out when it needs to, and not a second sooner.
"I need you to not give up, not ever. This is gonna be hard, Bells," His hands splay out on my back and backside, holding me to him as though I'll disappear any second. "Shit is getting more complicated by the day, but I need you with me. You…you make the wolf stronger, and you remind me that I'm more than just an alpha. I'm human, and I don't want to lose that—not now when I feel like I'm losing to the wolf more every single day."
It scares me to hear Jacob talk like that—as if he's scared of himself. Pull.
But fear can't hold me, not when I'm in his arms, so I fearlessly say, "I won't let you lose your humanity, Jacob. I won't let you lose to the wolf, and I won't let you give up."
"How?" He asks, but I feel the hope in his chest burst through my own veins. We. We're connected again—merge.
"I'll tell you all the time how special you are," because he is so special, and it claws at me something fierce that he can't see it.
I will my belief in him to him, and suddenly, hope spreads through him, back to me. Us. I smile, and he smiles back.
I may not know who he was before, because I wasn't around, but I know who he is now, and that's all that really matters. I know that as long as I let him feel the past, but remind him to live in the present, he won't get lost…I hope.
Charlie preached patience earlier, so I make a vow to try, but I'm pushy and nosy by nature.
"Is this why you haven't been letting me go back to Emily's?"
He shakes his head and sighs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and maybe it is. He kisses me slowly, roughly, taking strength and will for himself, giving warmth, but he could give me nothing in return and I'd still kiss him.
"We have a new wolf running around, and there's a lot of tension running high right now over Jared's situation. I don't want you anywhere near until everything settles down and we're all a little more able to control ourselves."
"What about Emily?"
"Emily's used to us," Jacob shrugs. "She's been there since I phased, and after, well, you know, she's really careful. Sam keeps a sharp eye when I'm not around, especially since it's his own imprint."
But even through his answer, I can see. The fire understands what I have yet to, but I trust the instinct anyway.
"You can't shelter me, Jacob. Not from this. Let me share this with you, and if things go to hell, well, at least you're not alone."
I pour my heart out in those few words, and I know that's what had been bothering me about the secrets this entire time. The space between us wasn't the problem—the issue I had was with the fact that I felt too much like how Edward saw me: possession.
But I'm not something to be possessed; I'm strong, and Jacob knows that—I can feel that he does.
"Let me be strong with you," I plead, and I can't help the desperate kiss I let trail down his lips and chin. Please let me be strong. Like he can hear me, Jacob nods his head in acquiescence—it's enough.
He goes to speak, but a shudder ripples over his frame and he's holding on to me so tight I'm sure there'll be bruises along my back and sides. I don't care. I'd take any bruise, as long as it would keep him together. Human. Unbroken.
"What's wrong?" I ask because even without the imprint and the constant pull and ache, I'd know something is wrong by the look on his face and the painful groan that escapes his lips.
"Someone new phased," Jacob lifts me and sets me on my feet once the pain passes. "I've gotta go."
"So soon? Is that normal?" I ask, but the look in his eyes are all the answer that I need. Something's wrong. Something's coming. This shouldn't be happening like this.
"I need to go…meet me at Emily's?" He asks me, and the question, though simple, tugs at my heart, and I feel like the first day I laid eyes on him.
"Yea?" I question. I need to be sure. He needs to be sure. Mine. Yes, mine, but I want him to want to be mine—to want to share the burden, and not just feel forced to.
"Yea," he whispers and lets his finger trail the shape of my lips. Fire, the good kind, ignites and burns so good and so horrible simultaneously like never before, and I know that he's sharing a bit more of his fire than usually seeps out.
He's sharing more than before, and I feel content as he slips out the side door. Mine. His.
The pull tugs me to him the further he goes away from me, and I'm pulling on my coat in a rush to get to wherever he is: home.
I could care less of the incriminating blush that graces my face as I walk out the front door to find his bike on the bed of my truck— a sign of trust on a new level.
Mine? His? Hell yes.
Soooo? What do you guys think? I wanted to get some things resolved and I hope this chapter answer some questions regarding Jacob, the imprint, and the wolf (even though you probably have even more questions now as far as overall plot, hehe). Anywho, let me know what you think and Review! :)
