A/N Hello! I wanted to get everyone an update before Christmas. :) We have family in town so the next one won't be until after the New Year's. I feel like I need to put a content warning on this fic. I'm trying to write as non-creepy of a child imprint as I can, I'm also trying to write as realistic of one as I can, and that will lead to some scenes that will make the reader uncomfortable. So keep that in mind. Also, Kwòlíyoť meansQuileute, and Mel is susceptible to Christmas cookie bribes. ^.^ Thanks as always to my reviewers: t bairdy, EssaTheTwerp21, dirtychicken, Aleena Kiwiana, Manna1, EnglishVoice, katieklutz, laurazuleta18, moani-sama, MadToTheBone1, SARAH DB, garlauri, Roonani, LightIsPrecious, hilja, 82c10akaLynn, cylobaby, Buffyk0604, toalli, MargotTenser, Britt01, lionandlamblover, KerryH, ally leigh, chicadee74, The all mighty and powerfulM, HopefulHeartache, and QahlanKwaiya. You guys are wonderful! Have a happy holidays! ~mel

The Imprinted Chronicles: Book Three

Chapter Six

The Council of Elders was not pleased.

It had been many days, nearly two moons, and the Tlokwali hadn't returned with anything to feed Kwòlíyoť bellies, so many now swollen from starvation. The weakest of the women were growing sick, the strongest of the men growing desperate and fighting amongst themselves as their families suffered. One of the tribe's infants had died from weakness, when their mother's breast had gone dry from her own hunger, and a second was said to only be alive because she was an imprint, and as such was tied to the Tlokwali strength. T'sikáti himself had spent most of the last few days holding the child, the Alpha coaxing her to drink a mixture of water and finely ground root, the only thing they had left to give her. The last time the Kwòlíyoť people had suffered in such a way, the great Thunderbird had flown across the sky, bringing with it in its mighty talons a whale to feed them and allow them to survive.

Qa'al had listened on the wind for many days and nights, but all he heard was the belly pangs of his people.

The Council of Elders had called T'sikáti and Qa'al before them, aware that the people would die if they were not fed soon. They were insisting that the Alpha take the remaining Tlokwali to attack the Makah and the Hoh, and if need be, the Quinault tribes, for there was food to be found in those villages, and the Kwòlíyoť people could survive this long winter. With sadness, Qa'al watched his oldest friend refuse the Council, knowing full well how deeply pained T'sikáti was right now. The Tlokwali were just as hungry, perhaps hungrier, than the others and everything they felt multiplied upon the Alpha's shoulders. His nature was to protect and feed his own, but the Tlokwali were gifted to share their spirits with the wolf, and it was a dishonor to steal food from others that needed it to survive, using the strength of the wolf to do so.

Should the Council insist upon a raid, T'sikáti would go, but he would not bring his wolves along to do as such. The ancestors may approve but the spirits of the Tlokwali would be angry, Qa'al had murmured to his Alpha. The wolf was not the coyote, it hunted its food, it did not steal it. None of them should do this thing.

The Council did not like to hear this, but T'sikáti was holding firm, and as they fought, Qa'al closed his eyes and whispered his prayers to the ancestors to bring him guidance, to bring his Alpha guidance, to not let the fate of their people rest solely on T'sikáti shoulders. Qa'al understood the power that the Tlokwali possessed, how it could be used in ways that were abhorrent to him and his Alpha both, wondered if in hunger the Council had forgotten Utlapa and his greed. There were some things that had to be done, and some things that could never be done. There was a line that should not be crossed, and there was a single man who decided that line. Thankfully that man was not Qa'al.

The fishhook, as always, would do as the fish asked of him.

As Qa'al stood silently at his friend's shoulder, helping T'sikáti shape their world into what they believed it should be, Qa'al felt a pull on his senses. The newest in their Pack was deeply distraught, and Qa'al could hear the half-Makah youth's wordless fear echo in his mind. A swift glance at T'sikáti for permission, and Qa'al dipped his head to the Council, not bothering to ask their permission before leaving them. The old wolf ignored the pains of hunger in his own belly as he strode outside, making sure to let the people see him standing tall and proud. The Tlokwali were the backbone of the people, and T'sikáti, the Beta, and Qa'al the backbone of the Tlokwali. It was important to show the people no weakness, so that they themselves felt strong. The bitter winter winds were cutting through the lands, drifting snow higher and causing the visibility to decrease for even wolf eyes.

"Qa'al!" the pup called from behind him, gaining the Third's attention as the pup trotted his way, visibly upset. "She's gone!"

There was only one 'she' that mattered to the pup in this village. The Tlokwali she-wolves did not pay attention to one as young and green as him, and could come and go without the pup's fear. But Tuktukadi was different. Even if the half-Makah youth had been accepted into their people because of his lineage, his full blooded sister had not, and the pup was desperately protective of Tuktukadi. The pup's words had drawn attention, and Qa'al frowned, taking the pup's shoulder and turning him, walking him towards the outskirts of the village. This was a desperate time for the Kwòlíyoť people, and there had been murmurs that the seasons had only grown worse since the Makah woman had come into their midst. T'sikáti and Qa'al had made it clear that Tuktukadi was under Tlokwali protection, but it would not do to have the people know that she was causing more problems, especially when Qa'al was needed in other places.

The pup knew this, knew he had to be patrolling their lands right now, knew that the Cold Ones were just as hungry as the people were. His expression fearful and face ducked respectfully, he waited until they were out of eyesight and earshot before murmuring over the howling of the increasingly strong winds. "Qa'al, I'm sorry. I have been watching her, and I don't know how she slipped away. But the temperature is dropping and it is near nightfall…"

The pup trailed off unhappily, and Qa'al nodded, his eyes clouded. If the Makah woman failed to find shelter, suitable shelter for weather such as this, she would die. But this was not a time that T'sikáti should have to stand alone, and they could not risk the people by pulling another wolf off of patrol to look for the woman. Qa'al stood where he was, watching his people scurry to the shelter of their longhouses, and his frown deepened. Even here they were at risk of the cold. It was possible that the Makah woman was dead already.

A deep twisting in his gut left Qa'al nearly ill at the thought. Last night Tuktukadi had smacked him and called him a fool, but she had also slept with her face buried into his chest and her arms wrapped around his waist for warmth. Instead of sleeping, Qa'al had spent the evening running his hands through her long hair, thinking of all the ways he could try to seduce her, to show her that his affection for her was in earnest. As much as he teased her, Qa'al cared for her a little more every day, and for one as old as him that meant something. Qa'al had seen a lot of people die in his time in the world, accepted that it could and would happen. But…he wasn't ready for her to die just yet.

Even as he ordered the pup back to patrol, Qa'al's decision was made. As the Third slipped outside of the village, T'sikáti accepted Qa'al's silent apology for abandoning him, although Qa'al knew that the Alpha would never have asked for the apology in the first place. There was nothing that Qa'al had ever done that was beyond T'sikáti's forgiveness, so apologies were rarely needed. Plus, the Alpha was fond of the Makah woman too, even if she only had eyes for Qa'al. Be wary, the Alpha warned. The Cold Ones were closer today than normal, T'sikáti could feel it in his bones.

The fishhook would be careful, but he would catch something else tonight than Cold One, if he was able.

If he was not, then the fish would join him in his hunt.

As the man took a final step, his body rolling into his wolf form, Qa'al expressed his appreciation. It was good to have the Alpha at his side to hunt, but Qa'al needed to hunt his prey quickly. The cold might not affect him as much, but it frosted inside of his nostrils, and Qa'al worried even as he sneezed. It made no sense that Tuktukadi would choose today of all days to run, because it was a death sentence. Perhaps she had been fooled by the calmer weather that morning. Perhaps she simply no longer cared. She had made it clear that she was deeply unhappy, no matter how well she slept in his arms. The brindle wolf raised his muzzle in mutual unhappiness, his eerie howl echoing across the land.

His was not an easy hunt, and Qa'al could not run off his growing frustrations, instead trotting through the snow as he systematically searched their lands, and then further beyond. Her scent was hidden well by the weather, and as he ranged outwards, the temperature dropped even more and his heart sank. Far to the north, his Beta pushed against his senses, expressing support and sympathy, which Qa'al acknowledged briefly before refocusing on the task at hand. He found a track, and then another, but the woman was a bird today and seemed to have flown away, perhaps higher than this old wolf could jump.

His jaws snapped at the snow that was killing his people.

Qa'al kept his thoughts closed off from his Packmates, unwilling to worry the pup more when he caught the scent of Cold One in the air. It had come and gone hours ago, and had headed further east into the mountains. Anger filled him at that, to lose her to her own stubbornness and pride was one thing, but to lose her to their most hated enemy was much worse. If she was dead from the cold, he would perform the proper ceremonies of her people, here where she could be at rest somewhere other than Kwòlíyoť land. If she was dead from fangs smaller and more delicate than his own, Qa'al would hunt down the Cold One and tear it to shreds.

T'sikáti pushed past the wall that Qa'al had built around himself, reminding him once again to be careful. The Alpha was hunting as well, and he believed she was still alive. What did the ancestors believe?

The ancestors had no interest in a Makah woman, but the spirits were easier to speak to when in this form. Wordlessly they guided Qa'al away from his path, up a steep rocky incline and to a small fissure in the rock that had been covered carefully with branches. Snuffing deeply, Qa'al inhaled the scent of his Packmate's sister, smelled her fear and her discomfort, and he slid back to human form, kicking aside the branches. His broad shoulders barely allowed him to slip through the fissure, leaving him inside a narrow cave as wide as his arm span and only half as tall. In the far back of it, a black haired woman huddled in a ball, her lips tinged with blue as she shook with cold.

Qa'al was shaking too, although for another reason entirely. The cave reeked of the Cold Ones.

"Go away, Qa'al," Tuktukadi managed to say between chattering teeth, even as Qa'al crawled to her. "I am escaping you this time. Leave me be." She snarled at him when he reached her, and he snarled back, a deep angry sound that frightened her as it rumbled through the cave. Her shoulders were covered by a wrap made of skins that Qa'al himself had given her, and it had frozen stiff from being dampened and then exposed to more cold. He jerked it off of her, knowing that it was killing her.

"You little fool," Qa'al growled in her own tongue. "Is your life so terrible that you would trade it for nothing? A few more hours and you would have frozen to death."

"I would rather suffer death here for one night then suffer a thousand deaths to my honor every day in your village," Tuktukadi told him proudly, despite her shivering. "I will not go back, Qa'al. I would rather die." Her voice was roughened with the wind, but her eyes were starting to glaze over, and Qa'al let out a curse.

"You still might," he decided, keeping his head ducked as he rose to his knees. He jerked her into his lap, and Tuktukadi made a sound of indignant anger when he started pulling her soft deerskin skirts off, ones just as frozen as her wrap had been. When she fought him with her deer hide shirt, he nipped her shoulder in rebuke. She tried to hit him, but her hands weren't working from the cold. Qa'al jerked her around on his lap and bit her again, this time much harder on the nape of her neck, and it frightened him that she didn't cry out in anger at his presumption of his dominance. In fact she had barely felt it at all. He was losing her.

Keeping her back to his chest and her bottom in his lap, Qa'al curled around her, legs and arms hugging her tightly. She was barely warmer to the touch than the air around her, and her body was racked with cold that he knew had to hurt her, but she never once cried out. She was proud, this owl, a warrior in her own right and he considered leaving her be. It would hurt him, but if this was the death she had chosen, it was not his right to tell her no. But as he pressed every inch of his heated skin to her, he could smell her fear. She knew she was dying, and despite her brave words, she was afraid.

"If you are a slave, then you are a stupid one, Tuktukadi," Qa'al stated against her ear, trying to goad her anger into keeping her from falling asleep. Often those that slept in the cold never woke up again. "There is the scent of Cold One all over this place. Instead of me, it could have been it wrapped around you right now."

"Both of you bite, both cause pain," she managed to chatter back. "I see no difference. Let me go, Qa'al."

The old wolf growled at her again, making free with his hands over her front, deliberately upsetting her more, "No, Tuktukadi. For a year I have held you whenever you felt like it. Tonight I feel like it. You are mine."

"I am not your slave, Qa'al!" she cried out, her words angry despite her lack of struggling now, and Qa'al nipped her neck again, nuzzling her even as he shifted to encompass her more completely.

"No, Kadi, but you are mine," his decided, taking her ice cold fingers and curling his hot ones around them. "You have made sure of it, every day. You test my affection, my interest every day, and you knew when you ran that I would chase you. You are only fortunate that the Cold One didn't catch you first."

"Tlokwali, Cold Ones, you are all the same to me, Qa'al. Your fight is with each other, not me," she whispered. "The Cold Ones have treated me no worse than the Tlokwali, both are demons. What is one traded for the other?"

"I am not a demon, Kadi," Qa'al told her quietly, feeling her skin finally starting to warm beneath his. "I am a man with a heart beating blood through my chest. Am I not human to you at all? Are you so afraid of me that where a man stands, you see only the wolf?"

The Makah woman hissed in anger, once more struggling. Qa'al let her, because anything, anything to keep her awake. "Trapped as I am, I can see nothing, Qa'al. But I am afraid of nothing."

Now that was far from the truth, and he laughed at her for it. "Says the rabbit that trembles in the wolf's jaws," Qa'al chuckled, goading her even more. She could hate him tomorrow, if her anger kept her alive today. Tuktukadi was strong for a woman, but hunger and cold had taken much of it away from her, so it was easy enough for Qa'al to turn her again on his lap. He gave her a challenging look, tracing his hands along her backside, daring her to fight this. If she said no, he would stop, but her eyes were heating up along with her skin.

If she was the type that needed a lover to prove his worth, so be it.

"I have hunted for you, and clothed you with skins I have taken, and protected you from those who would have made your life far more painful. I have catered to your demands, Kadi, each and every one," Qa'al reminded her, letting his eyes warm her flesh along with his hands, grateful that his body heat was already filling this tiny cave, surrounding them both. "Another would have taken you to bed already or found a more willing match. You claim slave, but in truth you have never been treated as such. We have never bedded you against your will, we have never beaten you, nor even asked you to do for us that you did not already do for yourself. Is it a demon than holds you now, little owl?" he asked gently. "Is that truly all you see?"

She shivered, and Qa'al pressed her belly to his own, tracing the lines of her ribs with his thumbs. Two ribs on either side. Of the women in the tribe, only the she-wolves showed less, all others showed more. He took care of her, and she knew it. And still, she was afraid of him most of all.

"You are still a demon, Qa'al," Tuktukadi finally said, tucking her cold face against his neck. "But the others, with the exception of my brother, are greater demons than you." Having lost once again, she buried herself into his body, shaking with the cold and pliant in his arms.

"Then I will have to show you otherwise," he decided quietly, his lips curling into a small smile. He was a patient hunter, and his prey was at her weakest now, expecting to be caught when she was helpless. So he laid her down, and he warmed the rest of her with his hands and his mouth, and took nothing for himself. He wanted all of her, but only when she wanted all of him as well.

Outside, the winds blew viciously as T'sikáti silently guarded the cave, his sandy fur covered in snow.


When the shock of imprinting wore off, Jack was left with a sense of deep guilt. No one, especially a child, deserved to be saddled with a wolf as damaged as him.

Jack could feel Renesmee to the north, a presence around his senses that constantly tugged at him, her strongest feelings hitting him unexpectedly in waves. Thirst, confusion, thirst, excitement, thirst, loneliness, thirst. Sometimes the barrage of her emotions was hard to handle, especially for an old wolf not so good at differentiating between his own emotions on any given day. Jack had spent the first two days in bed, refusing to leave the trailer until he managed to successfully fight his natural instinct to react to every one of his imprint's emotions, to go to her and offer her reassurance, to stick his arm in her mouth if that's what it took for her to not thirst so badly that his own throat hurt from it, now constantly raspy and raw.

Rico spent those two days parked out in a lawn chair by the door, an easy smile on his mouth as he told Jack dirty stories through the trailer walls, both of them knowing full well that the vampire had promised the wolf to kill him if Jack tried to leave before the wolf could control himself. By the third day Jack had managed to successfully clamp down the urge to run to his imprint's side, the rolling waves of her emotions irregular but constant, allowing him to start getting used to her.

'Used to her' was a relative term. Jack felt like his whole life had turned inside out on him.

Jack's Alpha was imprinted and he empathized Jack's struggles, as much as the Alpha could. The Alpha wasn't imprinted on a half-vampire or a child, and such his understanding was limited, but Jake knew that it took some time to adjust to the change. Jack had enough trouble adjusting to his new life as Pack as it was, and imprinting had shaken him deeply, so the Alpha had pulled him from patrol until the imprint settled in. The imprint wasn't a bad thing, it just took some getting used to, the Alpha had reminded Jack, his words echoing what Jack had told so many other wolves over so many lifetimes.

The ancient wolf wasn't so sure.

Yes, it was hard to get used to, but more than that Jack had worried deeply what his imprint was getting through the bond from his side. There had been a time where Jack had played with Pack bonds as effortlessly as his Alpha did now, but Jack was…not who he had used to be. He was no longer equipped to manipulate the bonds that rested between Pack and imprints, and had feared his own issues would be thrust upon her. Jake had apparently been worried about the same, so he had checked up on Renesmee and let Jack know that she only felt the smallest draw towards Hoquiam and nothing more.

That had been a deep relief, enough so that on morning four, Jack stopped hiding in his trailer. Then again, Paul had stopped by, a sympathetic Quil and a slightly amused Jared at the Third's heels. Paul had ignored the cowboy on the lawn chair watching the three with thinly veiled eagerness, stating that if Jack didn't get his ass outside to tell them goodbye before they went back up to Alaska, then the three were killing the leech and dragging Jack out of hiding.

Rico had found that deeply amusing.

Later the fourth night (after Jack had spent the whole day under his apple tree, telling a dead woman that he still loved her, and that he was sorry), the Alpha had come around and mentioned that of all the La Push Pack, only Jack's imprinting seemed so drastically unbalanced. Across the board, the wolves always felt more through the bond, but not this much more, and the imprint this much less. The Alpha thought that Jack had unconsciously manipulated the bond between himself and Renesmee to protect her, or maybe Jake had done it and not realized it. Either way, the little girl was protected from the fact that Jack was...Jack. The ancient wolf didn't know, but he did know that the Alpha was trying to hide how desperately Jake wanted to know how to do the same. Out of respect for his Alpha, Jack did his best to hide the fact that Jake's rejection of his own imprint disturbed Jack deeply.

Despite his own feelings on imprinting, Jake seemed to think that Jack's imprinting could be a good thing, as long as everyone tried to get along. The Alpha had made Jack promise to be on his best behavior come Saturday, the set day for Jack to see his imprint each week. By Friday, Jack had learned that his imprinting was like the ocean tide, predictable only that it would come and go, sometimes leaving him filled with her emotions, and sometimes sweeping his own emotions away, leaving him raw and empty inside.

The imprint wasn't supposed to work this way. Then again, he was too old to imprint and she was a half-vampire.

Friday afternoon a cold front swept the state, freezing the ground solid and bringing snow on the wind. The winter was going to be hard this year, but Jack had lived through harder. The horses however needed to eat in the coldest winter months, when the green Washington grasses no longer grew, so Jack and Rico had headed south to a farm outside of Hoquiam to get a load of hay and bring it back with them. They had several lean-tos behind the trailer, two of which the horses lived in, and one of which housed their riding equipment, their feed supplies, and one particularly traumatized Mexican jack rabbit. Rico had been awfully good about leaving the subject of Jack's imprinting alone, but it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. As Jack pulled bales of dark green hay off of the trailer and tossed them up to the vampire atop the growing stack, Rico decided enough time had passed for him to breech the subject.

"So, you going up there tomorrow, Jackie boy? To the coven?"

Jack nodded silently at his friend, and Rico gave a short little laugh. "Good luck with that. I went snooping last night," Rico admitted. "They've got their place guarded like it's Fort Knox. They sure don't trust you, old friend. Of course, if a thousand year old wolf imprinted on my baby girl, I might have already torn your throat out," the vampire added.

"You are too old to make a half-breed child, Cold One," Jack muttered in Quileute, muscling another hay bale up to Rico, who grabbed it and stacked it higher. "If you were reckless enough to create one in the first place."

"Is that a hint of disapproval in your voice?" Rico chuckled. "Jackie, Jackie, you're imprinted now. Aren't you supposed to be fawning all over the source of your imprinting? I would think that Bella and Edward Cullen would be your newest best friends."

The ancient wolf grunted at the mocking in Rico's voice and one-handed the next bale up to the vampire. "I was Tlokwali," Jack reminded Rico in a hard voice, and the vampire paused in his stacking to smirk down at him.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I have no respect for a human that willingly turns herself into a Cold One," Jack growled flatly, pushing aside a bale of hay that had split open when he had picked it up too hard. "I have less respect for a lover who allows it. The fact that they created a child before doing so is worse."

"But she's your imprint," Rico reminded him again, seeming to find the situation deeply interesting, if not a little amusing.

The ancient wolf paused a moment, and then grabbed another bale. "I should not have imprinted on her," Jack finally stated, again speaking in Quileute, which the vampire had learned enough of over the centuries to follow what the wolf was saying. When Jack was especially distressed, he lapsed into his native tongue, although both friends made an effort to speak in English as much as possible so to pick up the current language trends of the area. They stuck out enough without Rico sounding like a twelfth century Spaniard and Jack an eleventh century Native American.

"Ahh, but you did," Rico reminded him, and Jack grew angry at the soft voices in his head, murmuring their displeasure with him. Yes, he knew, and he wasn't the happiest with them right now either.

"I am old, and I am no longer Tlokwali," Jack repeated in frustration. "I have too many years on my shoulders already, and from what the Alpha tells me, she most likely will be immortal. I have nothing to give an imprint, not one such as her. I had looked forward to serving my Alpha and then, when the time came, asking his help to stop phasing. It has been difficult but he has already started, his strength allowing me to spend less time as a wolf every day. My life should be nearing its close, should have closed centuries ago. What little I had left to give, I have given it all to my Alpha. I had never thought for a moment this would happen."

"If you want to die so badly, old friend," Rico chuckled, plopping down on a hay bale and lighting a cigarette, "All you have to do is ask. I'm much faster than growing old, and I've wanted to give you a good bite since the day we first met. You're the most self-restraint that I've ever exhibited."

"That and the knowledge I may bite you first," Jack reminded the vampire drolly, his frown softening just a touch as Rico sighed dramatically.

"True, oh so true. Jackie boy, let me get this straight. You're angry at little boy Cullen and his child bride for creating your imprint, and you have no respect for vampires besides yours truly, but you chose a half-vampire as a mate. Are you angry at them for making her or are you angry at yourself for choosing her? Or are you angry at her for existing in the first place?"

"She is a child," Jack muttered. "A child does not ask to exist, they are simply created. She did not ask to be imprinted on, and she did not choose me. I doubt that there is anyone that would have willingly done so. I am…damaged, Rico. And whatever it is that I am anymore, it is my Alpha's. Even a half-vampire child deserves better than a broken kadidu who had already given his loyalty away. This was not fair to her."

Rico chuckled, pulling the brim of his hat up enough to smirk at Jack with darkening eyes. The vampire was hungry, would hunt today, although not until he'd had his fill of ribbing Jack. "Jackie, did you ever stop to think that maybe you ain't as damaged as you believe? Sure, you still go off in la la land every once in a while, but your Alpha's been fixing that and don't think I haven't noticed. Maybe your biggest problem is that your ass is just lonely. Maybe a mate is just what you need. I'd offer myself, but you're a little too hot for this vampire to handle." He waggled his eyebrows at Jack and received a hay bale in the face.

"My mate, my only one, died five hundred years ago," Jack muttered, shaking his head. "That child is not my mate, not yet anyways. She may never be, depending on her decisions later, and my own."

"But she is your imprint," Rico insisted.

There was no doubting that, so Jack finally nodded. "Yes, old friend. She is my imprint, and that fact cannot be taken back." Even now he was reminded of it, the muttering of the ancestors in his head pushed down by her wave of nervousness. Why was she nervous? Why did she feel it so deeply?

"Meaning what exactly?" the vampire asked, spitting on the ground. "Explain it to me."

Jack closed his eyes, grimacing. "Meaning that my life is now tied to hers, and hers to mine. Meaning that of all that are Pack, she is my complement, and I hers. She is made for me, and that fact alone…" He drifted off, growing angry again.

"Makes you so mad you could spit?" Rico raised an eyebrow and lit another cigarette, flicking his last one. He only smoked this much when he was hungry, not that it did anything to calm his hunger.

Jack snarled and kicked a hay bale, the one with the broken strings, thinking that the vampire knew him far too well. The wolf that he had once been would have been deeply disturbed by that fact alone. "I have made my decisions, Rico, and they have brought me to the place where I am," Jack said hotly. "They were my choices, and I have reaped the consequences. If I am lonely, or damaged, it is of my own making. But she is a child, one you yourself have said is only three and a half years old, and if she is my complement..."

"Then Mommy and Daddy Cullen royally fucked up somewhere?" Rico supplied cheerfully, winking at him. Jack said nothing, but he did growl, and Rico laughed. "Jackie, my old friend, you're not making any sense. You don't want an imprint, but you're angry over her already."

"She is my imprint."

"Which you don't want," Rico reminded him, and this time Jack growled louder.

"I never said that I don't want her," Jack stated. "I said that I had not believed I could imprint, and I do not believe it the best for her."

Rico smirked and flicked a piece of hay at him. "So you did want an imprint, just not that one. I always did have you pegged for the romantic type, old wolf, but not one that hurt children's feelings."

"If you are trying to make my head hurt, you have succeeded, Cold One," Jack rumbled in a low dangerous voice. "But if you seek to push me for your own amusement, be wary. I am not in the mood."

"Easy with that Cold One stuff," Rico chuckled and hopped down from the haystack, landing lightly on his feet and offering Jack a cigarette, which Jack declined. "I'm a little chilly maybe, but there's no need for insults."

Jack narrowed his eyes, saying simply, "It is who you are."

Rico pretended to look wounded. "Yeah, but you don't have to go rubbing it in all over the place," he sighed dramatically, to which Jack simply stared at him. The vampire laughed and held up his hands in a placating fashion. "Okay, fine, fine, no more teasing. But listen, all I'm saying is that I've been with you a long time and I know you. You keep your world small and controlled so that it's less scary for you, and that's fine with me. A man needs to do what's best for him, but don't think I don't know we've just been hiding out here all these years."

Jack glanced at the vampire as Rico walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. "As much as I miss your furry butt around here all the time, I think you're doing something now that you should have done a long time ago. Personal feeling about them aside, I was proud as hell of you for taking a risk and throwing in with the La Push Pack. There's a lot of shit you don't have to deal with hiding over here with me, but there's a lot of shit you're missing out on when you do. It's hard to live life hanging out with a dead man, Jackie boy, and it's hard to pretend you're dead when someone else is in your head. At least unlike the others, little lady Cullen is only half dead. That's at least a step up from your norm, isn't it?"

Jack's dead Alpha found that very amusing, the first thought he had had since telling Jack to turn to Jake for guidance. Jack had been wondering if his oldest friend had abandoned him for good. Jack shook the fuzziness out of his mind and looked at Rico. The vampire gave him a smirk. "What? You think I can't tell?"

The ancient wolf ducked his head, staring at the ground unhappily. "I can feel her," Jack finally said, his voice soft. "She is confused so much of the time. I fear what she one day may feel from me. I fear what damage that I will do to her simply in her being tied to me."

"So she matters," Rico pressed, and Jack exhaled.

The ancient wolf closed his eyes. "She is my imprint," he murmured, as if that was that.

Rico rolled his now pitch black eyes, and spat again. "Yeah, and Black is your Alpha, and Clearwater is your Beta, and your Pack is your Pack. You hide behind that label shit all the time, Jack," the vampire derisively. Jack blinked at the annoyance in the vampire's voice, and Rico tossed his cigarette, knowing Jack would pick it up later.

"I have angered you," Jack murmured, and Rico shrugged.

"Naw, I'm just hungry. Listen, I've met your imprint, although Coven Cullen guard her like she's their own private goldmine, and I gotta tell you, that little girl isn't messed up. She's just…different. She ain't never had a chance to be normal, but if she doesn't matter to you, if you're just going over there because it's expected of you, then don't go. It won't be the first time you threw tradition in everyone's faces, old friend. My guess it wouldn't be the last. But don't disappoint her. If she doesn't matter, just don't go. It'll be easier on you both this way."

With that, the vampire wandered away, leaving half the hay stacked and the other half still on the flatbed trailer, still needing unloaded. Jack didn't mind, he understood that his friend had stayed as long as the vampire could. He understood vampire hunger better than any other wolf out there, understood that there was only so long they could wait. And right now, he understood that his imprint suffered from that same thirst, nearly driving him to distraction with her need for it. Unlike the adult Cold One that Jack lived with, her need she tried to fight. She suffered with herself, fought herself every day.

That was something that Jack understood far more than anything else. That was why he was so damn angry over her already, over the thirst that she was feeling. The Cold Ones that were her parents should have known better, this was not the life even half a human should lead.

"She matters," Jack finally whispered to himself, going back to work with the knowledge that it was true. "She matters."

Ignoring the aching in his chest, something had made her sad, and ignoring the desire to find a way to go fix that, Jack continued stacking hay. He had a lot to get done today, and afterwards there was something he had to go find. After all, one could not go visit their imprint empty handed, and for better or for worse, tomorrow the ancient wolf had somewhere to be.


Samantha Carter was pretty sure that she was inheriting super strength from her Pack association, because this was the fourth time this year she had bent her locker opening it too hard. Samantha didn't mind having super strength, but she did mind when it disappeared in trying to bend the locker back enough to latch correctly. Cursing didn't help, so she had moved on to the threatening part of the broken locker experience.

"Die, you stupid locker," Samantha growled, banging her hand on it in annoyance, "Die!"

"Isn't that Chancy's line?" a male voice asked from behind her shoulder, and Samantha sighed, dropping her head against the metal door.

"Lockers are evil, Brady," Samantha decided, straightening up and trying to bend the latch again as the younger wolf smirked down at her. "Stop looking at me like that, they are!"

Brady rolled his eyes, and then pointed to a spot on the latch. "You're making it worse, Sims, bend it back over here."

"But I bent it here in the first place," she stated, and Brady gave her a look. Samantha held up her hands in a placating fashion. "Fine fine, I'll bend it back over there and it'll get all the more messed up and-oh hey. Look, it's all latchy now."

"Latchy isn't a word," Brady told her, resting his elbow on the top of her head as he watched Jake and Seth walk past, a little carrot colored head poking out between them with attached arms waving at Samantha and Brady. "You're making me late for lunch," he said idly.

"Then go," she told him, opening and closing her locker with satisfaction. "You guys don't have to do Sims duty at school anyways. Go, be satiated."

"I'm not tired," he said, looking confused for a second. "Just really hungry."

Samantha gave Brady a grin but didn't say anything, closing her locker for the last time. "Then we shall go be satiated together," she decided heading off down the hall, Brady at her heels. He smirked down at her from his height.

"You're in a good mood," he decided, and then he gave her a knowing look. "You're sleeping a lot better, aren't you? Since you moved in with him?"

"Oh my, yes. Even with Embry on night patrols, it's so…not like my Dad's. There's something magnificent about being drunk man free every night for a week," Samantha decided contentedly. "Although I do miss random strangers trying to grope me when they're a six pack in," she added teasingly. "Do you think Embry will let me bring some home just for old time's sake?"

Brady snorted at that, but gave her an amused look. A janitor was coming down the hall, pushing a large trashcan, and Samantha shifted sideways to get out of her way, accidentally bumping into Brady. He put his hand on Samantha's waist to steady her, although she didn't miss the death glare he leveled at the janitor over her head, a small middle aged woman half his height who cringed back from them. Samantha didn't do well with being surrounded by even her own Pack, didn't like being touched by any of them without being ready for it, but with Brady she was okay. She looked up at the tall young man beside her and gave him a smirk.

"Scaring little old ladies, are we now?" she asked teasingly, and Brady grunted at her in reply, dropping his hand.

"She got in your way," he muttered back, and Samantha shook her head.

"I think it was more the other way around, Brady," she chuckled, patting his arm. "Hey, where's Collin today?"

"He's playing hooky with Cassie and running a patrol for Jack," Brady told her, "Jack's been off his game this week, no wonder why. If I imprinted on a leech, even Nessie, my ass would still be running away screaming."

Samantha snorted at that as Brady grabbed the lunchroom door and held it so that Samantha could walk through first, nodding at her thanks. Cursing aside, Brady had very good manners when around females, although Samantha knew for a fact he hadn't picked them up from his father. If someone needed role models, Jared Qahla and Kim Connweller beat out Bradley Jennings and his estranged wife any day of the week. Jared and Kim's influence were in a hundred different things Brady did every day, and the more Samantha got to know her Packmates, the more she saw it. The closer she became to Brady, and saw his affection and respect for Jared and Kim, the more she respected them and the part they played in his life.

Leah had told her that even though Brady was technically watching out for Kim right now, it was much the other way around. Apparently Kim Connweller had no problem pulling a shotgun on Bradley Jennings when he came around looking to mess with Brady. Samantha found that amusing as hell, considering Brady was a wolf and always ended up taking the gun away from Kim, but it was nice to know that the couple unequivocally had Brady's back.

Embry had additionally told Samantha that this current Brady was like the Brady that had initially phased, angry and defensive, harder to control. Years of patience and tough love from Jared and Kim had helped Brady pull out of the shell his home life had forced him into, but he had sunk back into it after Calgary. But honestly, it was hard for Samantha to tell the difference with Brady. She was only an imprint and didn't have the luxury of being in his head, and he tended to snap out of the worst of his moods when around her. Of course he was playing guard dog a lot of the time, but Samantha didn't mind the way she would have with everyone else, including Embry. She and Brady had gone through hell together. It made her more inclined to let him get away with whatever he wanted to around her, and he was starting to take advantage of it, a fact that annoyed Collin to no end.

They were late for the lunch line and as they stood at the back, Samantha gave a little wave to Chancy, who was farther forward in the line and getting bothered mercilessly by Seth and Jake. Samantha grinned, but then her grin faded and she bumped Brady's ribs with her elbow. "Hey, look at that."

Callie Jennings, Brady's cousin, had just smoothly inserted herself in between Seth and Chancy, saying something dismissively that made Seth narrow his eyes in irritation and Chancy go red in embarrassment.

"Look at what?" Brady rumbled, regretfully pulling his gaze from the questionable looking lunch food and following her eyes. Then he smirked. "Five bucks says Seth shoots her down."

"Of course he shoots her down," Samantha growled. "Five bucks that Chancy punches her in the face and breaks her pretty nose. Of course, maybe I could do it and save myself the five bucks."

Brady barked out a laugh at that and then patted her on the head. "Easy killer," the young wolf chuckled as they scooted forward in line. "Oh hey! Salisbury steak. That's cool."

"That's gross," Samantha shuddered, peering at it. "However…" she added in a sing song voice, "Look what I haaaave." She dangled a five dollar bill in front of Brady's face. "Goodbye peanut butter and apples. Hello yucky looking Salisbury steak. No more state provided lunches for me."

"I had to do that for middle school," Brady told her, looking longingly at the lunch lady. "It sucked. Is Embry finally paying you for you busting your ass over there to help him?"

"When I let him," Samantha smirked, waiting as the freshman in front of her, a large rawboned kid who held himself awkwardly, shuffled ahead more slowly than the rest of the line and earned an impatient glare from Brady. "Technically I still qualify to state lunch it, what I keep for the classes I teach isn't a lot, but nearly a year of peanut butter sandwiches and apples has been rough. It's my money and I'm splurging."

"On Salisbury steak?" Brady chuckled and Samantha sighed dramatically.

"Brady, Brady, Brady, you're missing the entire point," she decided, "I am woman, see me splurge here." Then Samantha grinned as Seth tugged Chancy under his arm and said something in return to Callie that made Callie's face go red. "What did Seth just say?" she asked, drawing Brady's attention away from the lunch line a second time.

"Hmm? Oh, he told her that she looked better when she wasn't talking," Brady said absently. "Dude, pick up the pace," he added in a grunt, the freshman in front of her slowing down even more.

Samantha shot Brady a look, shaking her head and whispering as softly as she could, "Back off, Brady, I think that's the fastest he can go."

"Whatever," Brady grumbled and Samantha rolled her eyes as she grabbed three trays, one for her and handing two to Brady.

"You really are a grouch," she smiled, not at all bothered by it. "Okay, I'm a lunch line virgin here, and I need some gentle handling. What's better with Salisbury steak? Disturbingly rounded scoops of mashed potatoes or the slightly limp crinkle fries? I'm passing on the green thingies, I'm not eating my vegetables when I don't know what they are."

Brady said nothing, and Samantha looked back over her shoulder, seeing that he was blushing slightly. It took her a moment to figure out and then she laughed. "What? Did the word 'virgin' throw you, or was it the 'gentle handling'?"

"Shut up, Sims," Brady muttered, going redder at the second part of her sentence. "And get the fries."

Samantha's grin widened. "It was the gentle handling, wasn't it? Come on Brady, every girl needs it sometimes, even virgins," she snickered, and Brady blushed bright red when she looked at the lunch lady and smiled cheerfully. "Hello," Samantha declared loudly. "Fries please, but not too many. I'm a lunch line virgin and can only handle so much at once."

The lunch lady blinked but Samantha just gave her another smile and moved on. Just getting out of the lunch line, Jake and Seth both gave Samantha a smirk, although Jake seemed distracted by Callie, who they hadn't managed to run off yet. They passed the table where Nikki Connweller was eating lunch with her freshman friends, and Seth made sure to ruffle her hair as he passed by, just to annoy her. The table erupted in giggles, which stopped immediately as Callie hit them with a hard look. Chancy seemed beyond uncomfortable as the guys headed outside, where they had all taken up eating at Samantha's table, and Chancy dropped back, rolling her eyes at Samantha dramatically and making faces at Callie's back before following the three. Samantha laughed and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, just for old time's sake.

The freshman in front of her was fumbling with his money as he tried to pay, and Samantha watched, feeling a little bad. Brady however, had already eaten half of one of his plates of fries and just looked annoyed. "So sloooow," Brady grumbled under his breath and Samantha narrowed her eyes at him, and then quite deliberately tapped her ear piercing twice. Brady snorted, and then seemed to think about it. Then he smirked and tapped his own canine pointedly, before playfully snapping his teeth at her.

It was the kind of thing that still would have freaked her out if it had been one of the others, and being threatened was the kind of thing that sent Brady into a rage these days. But it was him and it was her, so Samantha and Brady just shared a grin and left it at that. The freshman scooted his tray away from the lunch lady at the register and tried to find a place to set his milk carton and his silverware, his own plate nearly as full of food as Brady's. Distracted by him, Samantha moved too close to her tray as she handed the lunch lady her five dollar bill, knocking her apple off her tray with her elbow.

"Crap," she muttered as Brady noticed and went to grab it for her, but the freshman had done the same, only much more clumsily. Samantha jerked back in surprise when he knocked his tray off the counter and Salisbury steak hit the floor right in front of her feet. Her shoes and jeans would have been gravy drenched and mashed potatoes covered if Brady hadn't snagged her backwards fast enough to avoid the tray, growling instinctively at the loud clatter of hard plastic hitting the ground.

Samantha Carter was used to getting looked at in this school, but for some reason it bothered her deeply that the whole lunchroom was suddenly silent and staring at this poor kid.

The freshman paled from Brady's snarl and decided to forgo grabbing his tray off the ground, reaching instead for Samantha's apple and accidentally knocking it so that it started rolling towards the closest table. The tall freshman went after the apple, dropping to his knees next to the table and trying to reach under it, Samantha scurrying after him.

"It's okay," she told him, flushing a little herself when he half crawled under the table, still hell bent on getting her apple. The students around them were starting to snicker at him, and she glared at them before turning back. "Really, it's okay."

"I'll get it," the freshman mumbled as the apple rolled out of his fingertips and further beneath the long lunch tables, students getting up and laughing as he tried to move around the side and got on the floor in between their seats.

Samantha followed, bending down and repeating, "Just let it go, it's just an apple. It's okay."

"Dude, look at Owen. What an idiot," someone snickered loud enough that half the lunch table heard, and the freshman, Owen, went crimson. However he kept trying to get the apple, and as the lunch monitor started to realize that something was going on and that they better intervene, suddenly Samantha was pissed.

She couldn't remember the last time that she had been this angry, so much so that a tremor rolled down her spine and she stood up and spun on the lunchroom, opening her mouth to let every single one of these assholes have it. But before she could, a deep sense of calm rolled through her, a calm not of her own making and it pushed her anger down against her will. Samantha didn't like that, not one bit, but she had already agreed to one order from the La Push Alpha, and in doing so had left herself more susceptible to his influence through the imprint bond. So she fought it, fought it hard enough that she was shaking, at least until Brady stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. The lunchroom stopped laughing, falling into a dead silence instead. Thinking Brady must have one hell of a growl on his face, she turned to look at him and saw that Jacob Black was standing beside the table, an apple in his hand and a look on his face that made even her flinch back.

"This yours?" he asked her quietly as Owen clumsily got to his feet, and Samantha nodded, sucking in a deep breath and trying not to be caught under the spell of Alpha the way the rest of the room way.

"I…I dropped it," she said, swallowing twice and wishing that Jake had half a clue the impression he could make on people. "And it rolled. He…Owen was helping me get it back."

Jake suddenly changed his body stance, it was subtle, but for some reason Samantha felt like she could breathe again. Behind her she could hear Brady's muscles relax, even if his hand on her shoulder slipped away. It occurred to Samantha that Jake had thought they were laughing at her, and not for the first time the force of his presence frightened her. For herself and for everyone else. But the Alpha relaxed and looked at the freshman and then flashed the kid a white toothed smile.

"Good man," Jake decided, tossing the apple to Owen, who under Jake's approval managed to catch it. "Give the lady her apple so that the rest of these assholes can go back to eating." Jake turned his eyes to the school, his tribe even if they were still kids, and the future chief gave them all a disapproving look. "Apparently it's not enough to have racism and prejudice suppressing the Quileute. We have to put each other down as well. That shit really pisses me off."

There were moments in their lives where the Quileute people would stop and they would listen and they would hear the truths spoken by those that would lead them. This was one of those times.

The Alpha nodded at Brady and then headed back outside, having said his piece and sent many of their heads ducking in shame. Samantha trembled, even as the freshman handed her back her apple and gave her an apologetic look. "Thanks," she whispered, disturbed deeply by her own reaction to Jacob Black, her need to gain his approval for herself. She wasn't normally like this.

Brady and Samantha both helped the freshman with his overturned tray, up until the janitor that Brady had glared at came in to help clean up. Then Samantha stuck her apple in her hoodie pocket, it too bruised and too dirty to eat anymore, but she sure as hell wasn't throwing it away after that poor kid tried to chase it down like that for her. Outside, Seth and Jake had already finished eating and were playing basketball, while Callie perched in Samantha's normal spot and smirked at Chancy. It was obvious Chancy was trying to disappear into the table beneath.

There were nice people in the world and there were mean ones, and Chancy was a nice one, at least as far as Samantha knew. And as far as Samantha knew, Callie was a mean one, and had never helped anyone pick up an apple.

Running Callie off from the table wasn't nearly as hard as it seemed to be for everyone else, but then again Samantha wasn't as nice as they were. Samantha simply looked at her, Callie glared back, and then the younger girl snorted and walked away. Easy enough.

Chancy breathed a sigh of relief, and Samantha saw that her friend had been in near tears out of sheer discomfort. To be honest, Samantha had no clue why Seth would have left Callie alone with Chancy, but Seth was a little blind when it came to non-imprinted women that weren't as good at standing up for themselves. As much as Seth liked to play superhero, he was too used to Sue and Leah and Sims, who had no problem kicking the teeth in of anyone that messed with them.

"She has bugged the hell out of me since I was Claire's age," Brady mentioned around a mouthful of crinkle fries, giving Sims an appreciative look before plopping down to the crunchy frozen grass and falling into his food as if he was starving.

"Poor guy," Samantha chuckled, reaching over and patting his shoulder.

Seth whooped and did a particularly nice slam dunk that Chancy missed as she was happily digging out a lollipop for both herself and Samantha. The Beta pouted, and Jake punched him in the gut hard enough that when Chancy looked over, Seth was keeled over in pain and not nearly as cool as he liked to be. Seth gave Chancy a pitiful look in hopes of attention, and Chancy rolled her eyes and laughed at him instead, once again things back to normal. As Samantha listened to her friend talk about Callie Jennings' annoying habit of circling Jake and Seth and their equally annoying refusal to run her off, the carrot haired girl making shark theme song noises for dramatic effect, Samantha ate her Salisbury steak.

Deep inside her something crawled, but as normal, Samantha shoved it down and pretended that everything was just fine. It was easier that way.


Renesmee sat in her best dress in her family's sitting room, making sure not to fidget in the least bit. She had picked this dress out a week ago. She hoped that her wolf liked it.

Her family had not taken well to "this whole imprinting thing" as they had referred to it, but they seemed at least willing to give it a chance. It had helped that her wolf had not once come within smelling distance of the coven since he had passed Renesmee back to her father the last time she had seen him. She had remembered the talk about how an imprinted wolf was constantly drawn to the person they had imprinted on, and she definitely felt a soft steady tug on the back of her senses, a tug that reminded her that there was something worth paying attention to towards the south, towards Hoquiam. But if her wolf felt the same, he was able to resist the urge to come see her.

To be honest, the fact that he was able to stay away slightly disappointed her.

Sometimes Renesmee woke up in the middle of the night and pretended that her wolf had snuck in just to see her and that they stayed up until dawn reading about his culture and talking about all the fun that they would have together, for the rest of forever. He never teased her about crying the other night, and she felt better for it. She did tell him that he wasn't allowed to bite Jacob anymore, that had rather frightened her even though Seth had pulled her away enough that she hadn't seen it, and he had apologized profusely.

She forgave him because he was her wolf and of course that was what imprints did.

In her imaginings, her wolf would always sneak away before dawn because it was more exciting that way, although her father had caught her thinking about how fun that would be, and it had ended up in a conversation that had left Renesmee convinced that grown men had no business sneaking into her bedroom at night and she was glad that her wolf was not the type to do such things. The conversation had made her feel uncomfortable, but her mother had explained to her that every child needed to learn about strangers and what was okay and what wasn't, and that sometimes the most uncomfortable conversations were the ones that needed to be held.

Renesmee had found a more social acceptable make believe to make everyone happier, and she had gone back to imagining that her wolf would come daily to play with her, because she was more fun than anyone else he knew, more than anyone he had ever known. Sometimes he brought Mister Rico to play as well, because her wolf was okay with vampires, and he never accidentally called her family leeches in front of her. He was a much more progressive type of wolf, tolerant and accepting where even her Alpha, because Renesmee had an Alpha now, was not. And they had a secret that they never told anyone, and that secret was that her wolf was actually even stronger than the Alpha was, but he loved Jacob far too much to ever tell him.

For some reason, her father was spending a lot of time in the next room over groaning these days.

It was Saturday, and since her wolf hadn't messed up and made her family angry, they were letting him come and see her today. Even though he wasn't supposed to show up until noon, Renesmee hadn't been able to sleep the night before from her excitement. To kill time that morning she had learned a new poem, this one of Pacific Northwest Native American origin, because she refused to be culturally ignorant when she was now a Quileute Pack imprint.

She was extremely proud of her imprint status, and was determined to be the best imprint that she could possibly be. Renesmee had already made a plate of little ham sandwiches cut into triangles, arranged neatly with their crusts cut off and toothpicks in them for ease of eating. Jacob loved ham sandwiches, and no one had a phone number for her to call her wolf and ask him what he preferred. She had asked her grandmother to save some turkey just in case her wolf didn't like ham.

Jacob, in the several times he had dropped by to check on her, smiled at her every time she shared with him the most recent information she had researched about Quileute customs or beliefs. He had told her not to stress over the small stuff, they'd teach her all she needed to know in time, but he hadn't been able to teach her any of these things yet. Jacob was allowed to come by and see her, as per his right as her Alpha, but he was far from welcome as far at the coven as the majority of her family was concerned. It made her sad, but her grandfather had told her not to worry about that either. Carlisle was giving both Edward and Jacob time to cool off before he was planning on bringing them back together and talking some sense into both of them.

So Renesmee had waited all morning and now it was ten minutes until noon, and she knew this because she had been watching the clock for the last fifteen minutes. When the clock dipped dangerously close to noon, with no scent of wolf on the air, Renesmee turned worried eyes to her family. Aunt Rosalie had refused to be a part of this and had dragged Uncle Emmett to Seattle with her, but her Aunt Alice was there, with Uncle Jasper standing with his arms crossed in an intimidating stance behind the couch Alice was on. Her mother and father had gone outside to wait for Renesmee's wolf by themselves, and Renesmee's grandmother was in the kitchen, fixing her lunch.

"Aunt Alice?" Renesmee asked worriedly from her seat at the little tea table, and her Aunt leaned forward, understanding her concern.

"Nessie, he's coming," her Aunt Alice assured her again, the pixie like vampire nodding encouragingly. "I told you that I can't see you this afternoon, but I can see you tonight. The only time that happens is when the wolves come by."

Renesmee nodded, smiled at her aunt, and then adamantly refused to fidget. If her little foot was turned inwards and nervously rubbing the instep of her other one, that wasn't fidgeting. That action fell into the category of suitable-habits-of-imprints-about-to-see-their-wolves-for-the-third-time-ever. Although she had to admit that she was curious as to why Jasper wasn't soothing her the way he usually did when he was around. He sure was watching her closely, as if paying extra close attention to how Renesmee was feeling.

Alice sighed as Carlisle stepped into the room. "How is everyone doing?" the coven leader asked in his gentle but authoritative voice and Alice rolled her eyes.

"Considering that we're waiting here with hors d'oeuvres for a wolf that doesn't even have a last name," Alice piped up with only the smallest amount of sarcasm in her voice, "I think we're doing fine."

"He doesn't have a last name?" Renesmee asked in confusion, and her grandfather gave her a smile, walking over to stand behind her chair. Carlisle put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

"Surnames were a European distinction, Renesmee," Carlisle told her as her grandmother came in with a tray, gracefully setting it down on table in front of her. "It's not abnormal. His name most likely isn't even Jack. You'll have to ask him what his real name is, but first eat your lunch. You look a little pale." She was a little pale because she was a lot thirsty, the need for blood had been worse this week than normal. Thankfully lunch was half of a turkey sandwich and a cup of tomato soup that was richer and darker than most tomato soups.

"Thank you, Grandma," Renesmee smiled at her grandmother thankfully for the older vampire's discretion. The little girl had worried about Jack seeing her consume blood, even though in her imaginings, her wolf had never cared. The tomato soup hid it perfectly. Esme gave her a sweet smile and a kiss on the top of her head before settling down next to Alice of the couch.

They continued to wait, and Renesmee finally wiggled in her chair. It was 12:05 pm and he wasn't there yet.

Feeling her heart sink, and knowing for a fact that sometimes Alice's visions could be wrong, Renesmee lifted her soup spoon to her lips. Apparently the wind was blowing the wrong way because she had never smelled her parents or Jacob's wolf, Jack, as they approached the house. She had never heard him either, didn't realize that her parents had met Jack further away to speak with him privately first, and while she had heard her parents and her mother especially walking back towards the house, the wolf at their heels was silent for even ones like them. The door opened and on catching the distinctly earthen scent of the wolf that had imprinted on her, Renesmee looked up from her food, startled.

Her eyes locked with his, and he gave her a small shy smile, making the world become confusing. So confusing in fact that for the first time in her entire life, the little girl spilled something. Her best dress was a pale cream color with a pretty brown lace ribbon that her grandmother said matched her eyes. But even the prettiest dress looked horrible with a cupful of bloody tomato soup dumped down the front.

Renesmee's family were completely shocked, although not upset in the least. It was just that in three and a half years, she had never come anywhere close to being clumsy. In truth Carlisle might have been able to catch the cup of soup in time, but even the coven leader had been utterly surprised at the blunder. Renesmee was a very well behaved little girl, charming even if she had been more precocious as an infant, but she had never failed to make a good impression on anyone that she met. But it seemed like fate was determined to make her wolf hate her, and she hadn't even gotten the chance to know him yet.

The little girl stared at the wolf, the one between her father and her mother, and then her eyes welled with tears. Smelling the blood and knowing she had ruined her best dress, Renesmee whispered an apology to everyone and then she fled upstairs.

"Renesmee," Bella murmured sympathetically, following her immediately, and Alice gave the wolf a hard glare as the older vampire followed at Bella's heels.

"Do you see what you did?" Alice snapped at Jack, her voice carrying up to the little girl trying and failing to get her bloody ribbon off upstairs. "Is it so very difficult to make a little noise so you don't startle her? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of lace? Jasper, eat him," she added imperiously as she headed upstairs.

Jasper smirked in response to the demand. "Carlisle, do you think Jacob would mind?" Jasper wondered out loud, and Edward growled a little, although Renesmee wasn't sure at whom.

"Well, this is already going well," Renesmee could hear her grandfather sigh downstairs, but his voice was covered by Alice's footsteps as the tiny vampire came up the stairs.

Renesmee's mother had already helped her out of her dress, and the little girl was staring at her closet in distress. There were a lot of choices, and they all fit, but they weren't her best dress and it had seemed so important to wear her best dress for her wolf. "Here, baby, wear this," Bella said in her chiming voice, handing Renesmee a shirt, and Alice immediately snatched it out of Bella's hands.

"No, no, no," Alice tisked, rummaging through the racks as Renesmee sniffed and tried to wipe her eyes before they became too red and puffy. "That won't work. This one won't work either, this one we never should have let you buy in the first place, Bella…"

Renesmee's mother growled a little at that. "Alice, it doesn't matter. He's in jean and a t-shirt. You're making too big of a production about this."

"Just because the new mutt on the block has no taste," Alice sniffed, staring at and discarding another selection, "Doesn't mean that Nessie isn't well bred and well groomed. Maybe it'll do him some good to see that not everyone lives in the dirt like the La Push Pack. Of course if he starts staring at her like a weirdo, I'm eating him."

"Jacob has a home, Aunt Alice," Renesmee defended her Alpha immediately, "And maybe it would be better if I wore jeans and a t-shirt as well? So Mister Jack feels more comfortable?" she asked, looking at Bella for help. Bella sighed when Alice hit her with a second look.

"See, Bella?" Alice chirped. "Rosalie was right, they've already brainwashed her. And Jacob lived in a shoebox. It barely counts as not being in the dirt."

"Stop teasing her, Alice," Bella said firmly, giving Renesmee a reassuring hug. "And be nice, I used to like that shoe box."

Alice sighed, and slumped her tiny shoulders. "I know, I know, I shouldn't take it out on Jacob. I just worry about this whole thing, and to be honest, that wolf down there freaks me out a little. Nessie, be careful around him, he's more than twice as old as Carlisle is, and that means he's strong, okay?"

"Jacob says that he would never hurt me," Renesmee reassured her aunt, wiping her eyes again.

"Yeah, it's the rest of us I'm worried about," Alice muttered under her breath, but then clamped her mouth shut as Bella glared at her. "Sorry, sorry, okay we need another dress. Dress dress dress…"

There was a knock on the door, and it swung open to reveal Esme with another half of a sandwich and a small child sized thermos filled with the rest of the bloody soup. She gave Renesmee a kind smile as the little girl sat on her bed in her thankfully unstained slip, waiting for the adults in her life to fix the mess she had made of things. Esme sat down next to her and gave her a warm hug, even though her arms were cool and hard as granite.

"It's okay, Nessie," Esme promised her, handing the newest imprint the thermos. "Accidents happen, and no one's mad. Go ahead and drink this while they choose you something new."

"I never even said hello," Renesmee said in a small voice, and Esme ran a soothing hand over her curls when she added, "Do you think that I offended him? That he'll think less of me?"

Esme didn't immediately reassure Renesmee, instead she thought about the question before answering. "I think," she said calmly, gesturing for the little girl to drink. "I think that man downstairs is as new at this as you are. If he spilled something on himself, would you think less of him?"

Renesmee shook her head no, she'd been taught that gently teasing the people you loved was okay, but making fun of them for their faults was unkind. "No, Grandma."

"Well, I think that it takes a very brave man to come into our home alone, knowing that he's an outsider," Esme said quietly, and Renesmee decided that her grandmother was talking to more than just her. "And I think that despite how much none of us understand what this means in the long term, that very brave man did exactly as we asked and waited until today to come see you. To be honest, Carlisle and I expected him back within the day."

"He's not perfect, he was five minutes late today," Alice reminded Esme, even as the tiny vampire pulled out a dress that met her approval. It was nearly identical to what Renesmee had been wearing earlier, and in it she could almost pretend she hadn't spilled anything on herself at all.

"He was ten minutes early, actually," Bella admitted. "Edward wanted to speak with him again, for all the good it did. He barely answered us, and only in one word sentences. He's polite about it, but I think he just wants to see Renesmee and that's it."

Esme winked at the little girl, who was chugging her blood as fast as she could. "See? I also think that he's still downstairs, and if it's not for us, it must be for you. He knows you're half-vampire, Nessie, so I believe that a little spilled soup won't be enough to matter."

That made Renesmee feel a lot better, and she finished her lunch while Alice and Bella argued about the need to re-curl Renesmee's hair. Bella won that one and Renesmee brushed her teeth and re-brushed her bronze curls before her mother helped her into her second dress, Alice fussing over the bow, a green one this time. Bella seemed to be dragging her heels and Alice could mess with a ribbon for days if allowed to, and more than once Renesmee had to force herself to not shift restlessly. Finally Esme stood up and gathered her tray.

"Alright," Esme said with a hint of steel in her musical voice. "Both of you stop stalling. The coven has made a decision to allow this until we are given a valid reason not to, and we've been up here for over half an hour. We are all Cullens, and I won't allow rudeness in our home."

Alice sighed dramatically and Bella looked possessively at Renesmee before sighing as well. "Yes, Esme," they both said at the same time, Alice winking at Bella as they did. Renesmee giggled at their attempts at contrite expressions, both equally unbelievable. Esme laughed and took Renesmee's hand, giving her someone to hold onto as she walked back down the stairs, feeling painfully shy and embarrassed at having been clumsy in front of all of them. Renesmee prepared herself for that moment when she looked at her wolf, knowing now that it could distract her attention and already mentally readying herself for that fact. She refused to look silly in front of him a third time in so many meetings.

She shouldn't have bothered. Jack was sitting on their couch, his eyes closed and his face impassive.

"Sorry about that, Jack," Esme said politely, leading Renesmee into the room. "Nessie? Would you see if Jack would like something to drink or eat, please?"

Renesmee nodded and went over to where the wolf was sitting. "Mister Jack?" she said as politely as she could. "Would you like anything to drink or eat? I made you some sandwiches," she added shyly. "Jacob likes ham sandwiches the most…but you're not Jacob, and I shouldn't have assumed. I can make you a turkey sandwich if you'd like."

His eyes remained closed and his face showed no expression, but the tiniest edges of Jack's lips curled up, saying something in his native tongue that Renesmee didn't understand. Without opening his eyes, he leaned forward and took one of the sandwiches, swallowing it in one bite, albeit much more mannerly than Jacob had ever done. He smiled at her a little more, continuing to keep his eyes closed, and he murmured in Quileute a second time.

Renesmee nodded, a little thrown at his using a language she didn't know, and she glanced at her family for help.

Edward frowned. "Jack, please use English or French when addressing our daughter. Spanish will do as well, but please restrict yourself to a language that is spoken in this house."

And that was the last thing that Jack said for the next two and a half hours. He kept his eyes closed and he smiled at her multiple times, no matter where in the room she was sitting, and always in answer to whatever she said, but he never once spoke to her. Jack did happily consume the entire plate of sandwiches, and when Renesmee went and got him more, he ate every single one of those as well.

At first Edward had gotten angry, and had snarled at Jack that rudeness would not be tolerated in their home, but Jack had seemed completely unconcerned, his eyes closed, his face calm and showing absolutely nothing resembling irritation on it at all. To be honest, Jasper and Edward had almost thrown him out by his scarred nose, and the longer this went on, the angrier they grew. Carlisle and Esme countered that this meeting was an agreed upon thing, allowing Jack to see Renesmee at least three hours a week, and even though it frustrated them as well, they couldn't risk Jacob breaking the treaty over what could possibly be just a misunderstanding.

Renesmee fiddled with the edge of her dress as she watching her wolf, who was in his own way watching her. To be honest she was a little confused. He was acknowledging her, smiling his small shy smile every time she moved or said or did anything, but he wasn't looking at her, and he certainly wasn't acknowledging everyone else in the room. It made her feel special, but it also made her feel like she was missing something.

Edward looked ready to skin Jack alive, not that Jack seemed concerned about it, the wolf ignoring absolutely everything the vampires said or did.

Bella grew frustrated and was young enough that her frustration made her hungry, and she was forced to leave with Esme to hunt. After about an hour and a half of this, Alice grew bored and wandered away to try and save Renesmee's dress, and finally at a gesture from Carlisle, Jasper sighed and followed his wife. Saving dresses was boring, but not as boring as watching a wolf fall asleep. Jasper told them that he would be in the next room if they needed him, leaving Carlisle and Edward conversing in low tones about why a treaty with the Quileute wolves was more necessary than ever, and that they would sit here for another hour. Then they would send Jack on his way, and call Jacob about this.

Edward wanted to be the one to call Jacob, he had some very specific things he wanted to say to the Alpha about setting his daughter up for disappointment. However, Renesmee wasn't actually disappointed. True, she had expected…more than this, but the little girl was often quiet as the adults talked, so it wasn't abnormal to spend a couple hours silently in the room with everyone else. She just wasn't used to one of the adults not talking along with her. Still…her instincts told her that Jack was paying more attention to things than he appeared to be, so on a whim, she waggled her fingers at him, silently saying hello even if it was a little late. Edward sighed and turned to Carlisle, lowering his voice to the point that Renesmee could barely hear them.

And for the first time in two hours, no vampire eyes were on the wolf, watching his every motion. As Renesmee looked on in surprise, Jack lazily opened one eye, his mouth curving in a peaceful smile, and he quite deliberately winked at her. Then he mouthed the word "Hello."

The little girl grinned.

Edward noticed her grin and quickly looked at Jack, which in being a vampire made it a quick look indeed. But all he saw was Jack sitting exactly how he had been with his eyes closed, and when Edward growled questioningly, Renesmee didn't know what to say. The door opened, pulling both Carlisle and Edward's attention as Esme walked in, albeit it at separate times. This time when in the split second that no one was watching, Jack opened his eyes, winked at Renesmee again and wrinkled his nose up into a silly face. She couldn't help her giggle, even though she knew it was outing him. Knowing for a fact that something was up, her father could hear her thoughts after all, Edward stared hard at Jack and called Jasper back into the room.

And so started the most fascinating game of peekaboo Renesmee had ever played. She had grown out of the game when still a week old, but this version was much more fun than the old one, requiring her wolf to time his eye opening just perfectly to avoid detection. The funniest part about it was that her father and her grandfather knew that he was doing it, but they simply couldn't catch him at it. The more they watched him closely, the more Renesmee started thinking random thoughts to bring her father's attention on herself, and it only helped that Bella finally came back in, full and alert from her hunt, wanting to know why Renesmee was giggling so much even though Jack was still sitting silently on the couch.

Edward finally shared a bemused look with Carlisle and gave up.

"Fine, you win, wolf," Edward told Jack with a sigh. "Talk to her in whatever language you want to, but know that's not going to work in your favor in gaining our trust. Your three hours are up, Jack, not that you spent them well."

Jack rose from the couch and even blinded he moved confidently around the coffee table, padding over to where Renesmee was sitting in her chair across from the room from him. The ancient wolf pulled something out of his shirt pocket as he crouched down in front of her, ignoring the protective eyes of her family as he placed it in her hand, making careful sure that their skin never touched. Eyes still closed, he gave her a very kind smile, said something in what she believed was Quileute, and then stood up.

His back was fully to Renesmee when Jack finally opened his eyes.

Jack gave her family a long hard look before he turned his gaze on Alice. "When I am allowed to look at her without risk of your eating me, Cold Ones, let me know," he said in perfect English, his voice rougher than she would have expected it from looking at him. Without knowing why, Renesmee suddenly understood that her family had offended him deeply, but he just ducked his head as he slipped away without another word.

Jasper growled at the retreating wolf, but Alice simply looked stunned, and then she turned and left the room without a word.

"Again, that went quite well," Carlisle murmured, although he actually looked a little amused. "If anything, he has a sense of humor."

"What did he give you, Nessie?" Bella asked curiously, moving to peer over the little girl's shoulder as she looked at the gift. It was a strange thing, a little chunk of rock tucked into a simple hand-carved box. All together it was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.

"He gave me a rock," Renesmee said, a little confused, but then again, her wolf was confusing. Far from being embarrassed by her inability to understand him, the little girl found herself smiling.

In her imaginings, Jack had been just like everyone else she knew, just a version that seemed most suited to her. But in truth, her wolf was like no one she had ever met before. It was hard to know what he thought about anything, but he had managed to confuse everyone she knew, and they were all very smart. That meant she didn't have to feel bad about being confused, and she had liked the fact that he had eaten all of her sandwiches. Jack had even brought her a gift, which had never occurred to her that he might do. Her daddy had said to be wary of things that seemed too good to be true, but he had never said anything about being wary of things that were just good enough. In her mind, today had been quite fine.

Smiling even bigger, Renesmee went up to her room to find the most important place she could put her gift. After all, imprints did that sort of thing.


Jack was angry.

The ancient wolf was so angry that the Cullen coven was lucky that they were his imprint's family and allied to his Pack. Had they not been both, he would have been tempted to tear their smallest female from limb from limb, despite her mate standing guard. In truth the Cold Ones had deeply insulted him. There was a time where a wolf had a say as to what happened to his imprint, where it was an honor for a daughter of the tribe to be imprinted on, and a Tlokwali not questioned about wanting to spend a scant three hours with her.

Jack may be next to nothing now, but he was not the man they watched him so closely and feared that he could be.

The wolf had held to his own part of the bargain, and he had done so out of respect for her family, but instead of being treated in kind, he had been watched suspiciously by them all, had been told what he was allowed to speak of to his imprint before even coming into the house, put on guard like a vicious beast that they didn't trust not to break its chain. The ancient wolf had never heard of an imprint being denied daily access to their wolf, and it made him even angrier. This was not the world Jack had known. Every step deeper into it only proved that fact more.

Jack was angry, to the point that he felt it rolling through to his Alpha, and to his Beta, and far up north, it was even felt by his Third. But it was his fourth that found him on the borderline, deliberately standing on the inside of the line and staring at the heavens as if to dare the ancestors to mess with him again. He was not in the mood to apologize any more today.

Embry gave Jack one long look, and then laughed. "You know, that's the same expression Quil had on his face too, the first time he went to go see Claire. I take it things didn't go over very well at Crypt Cullen?"

"I could have eaten her first, quite easily, fourth," Jack decided, growling at the sky and Embry smirked, throwing an arm around Jack's shoulders and leading him into the reservation.

"Come on, man," Embry grinned, shaking his head. "I'll buy you a beer. You look like you need it."

Yes. Yes, Jack did. As the ancient wolf allowed himself to be taken deeper into the reservation, Jack's dead Alpha yawned sleepily and wagged his tail. Different or not, it was still good to be home.

After all, the dead Alpha's and his friend had been gone for a very long time.


Rico lifted his mouth off of the human girl's throat and sighed. "You know, he's going to notice," Rico told her, his eyes reddened deeply. "I'm going to have to leave for at least a week now because of this. Did you really have to wear the short skirt yesterday?"

The dead girl said nothing, but Rico always had preferred doing the talking in his relationships anyways. Licking his lips, the old vampire sighed, pulled his hat over his eyes, and leaned against the dead girl more comfortably.

There really was nothing like a good meal and a good nap.