A/N – Thanks to Writer-in-the-making16 for helping out with the scene where Nessie is tending to Jake's wounds, and thank you to all you awesome readers for reading, faving and reviewing! You are what keeps this story going!
All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
Truth and denial
". . . there was about him a suggestion of lurking ferocity,
as though the Wild still lingered in him
and the wolf in him merely slept."
~ Jack London, 'White Fang'
They all heard the footsteps about a millisecond after Jacob did. A flash of panic flickered across the younger wolves' faces, and they froze, their fear holding them immobile like deer stuck in the glow of a hunter's firelight.
"Everyone phase, now!" Jacob ordered, the Alpha timbre resonating in his voice. With a shimmer in the air, fur erupted through skin and the crack of rearranging muscle and bone echoed dully in the chamber. The air reverberated around them as the 13 wolves took their massive forms.
Stay here, the Alpha growled, as he raced towards the doors, hoping desperately that he'd be in time to stop his imprint before her curiosity killed the metaphorical cat.
.
.
Renesmee peered through the doorway. The room looked like any other, but just larger—much larger. She didn't know what she was expecting—something exotic and mysterious perhaps—but what greeted her was so normal it was almost laughable. This was the so-called forbidden wing? She almost snorted at the absurdity of it all.
She took a step into the room, closing the enormous oak panels behind her as softly as she could. She stood there for a moment, taking in the space around her. The sitting room was tastefully furnished—a bit masculine, she mused, with its dark panelled wood accents and tanned leather couches—but still so very warm and inviting. The space was almost den-like in its cosiness, and Renesmee thought how it reminded her of Jacob—undeniably magnificent and impressive, yet still so warm and appealing—and she wondered briefly if this room was part of his private quarters?
Her eyes travelled to the large, velvet curtained windows which took up the entire wall on the far side of the room, and then to the left where a crackling fire burned at the hearth. To the right hand side of the space was another set of doors, and Renesmee turned to walk towards them, her curiosity urging her on. However, she had only taken a few steps when her attention was caught by a large mahogany desk not far from the windows—or more to the point, the object that was displayed upon it.
Renesmee's heartbeat quickened as she recognised the white rose that she had brought with her. She hadn't seen it since the day of her arrival, having unwrapped it from her satchel to show to Sam and the wolves who had met her at the castle's entrance. She had been searching her brain trying to remember what she'd done with it after that, but its whereabouts had remained a mystery to her ever since. What in the world was it doing here?
She noticed with a pulsing sense of awe how the rose was suspended in mid-air about two inches above a solid crystal base, hanging in perfect equilibrium with neither string nor any other attachment holding it in place. Its pure white petals seemed to glow softly in the late afternoon light, adding to the ethereal setting. To her amazement, she saw that the rose remained as perfect as the day it had fallen from her father's grasp. But that should have been impossible, she reasoned, given that it had now been over a week. Yet here it was, dewy-fresh and resplendent as the day she had first laid eyes on it.
Renesmee tip-toed towards the pure white bloom, spellbound by the otherworldliness of the sight before her. Just as she reached out to touch its snowy white petals, the air seemed to quiver, as though silent echoes were reverberating off the adjacent walls. She looked up just in time to see the doors to the adjoining room fly open and the unmistakeable form of her russet wolf appear suddenly, stopping less than a only metre from where she stood.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE? he thundered, the doors through which he had seemingly materialised banging closed behind him, punctuating his fury. I told you the Northern wing is FORBIDDEN!
Renesmee was so taken aback by his rage she couldn't speak. "I… I'm, sorry," she managed to squeak. With a sudden sinking feeling, she remembered how very much she was at the mercy of the Beast, and that while he had been kind to her he could very easily tear her to pieces—and how silly she had been to forget that. Her heart began to thump wildly in her chest—Was this it? Had she finally gone too far? Would this be the moment of her undoing? Hot tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she choked them back down.
All I asked of you— the Alpha thundered, the combination of alarm, frustration, dread and worry coalescing to fan the fire of anger already threatening to burn over inside him —was that you not venture into the Northern wing! Do you realise what you could have done? DO YOU?—
But Jacob stopped suddenly, a squeezing pain in his heart making him feel as though he would surely die. The flash of fear on Nessie's face was like a blade to his soul. And in that moment, as he looked into the frightened face of his imprint, Jacob's anger turned to anguish as he realised the terrible thing that he had done.
Nessie, I'm sorry. Don't be afraid, please— He started towards her but she backed away from him, her eyes still wide with fear. And with every faltering step she took, his heart broke a little more.
Ness, I—
But it was too late. Renesmee had turned and fled, slamming the enormous doors shut behind her.
Jacob stared after her through the massive oak panels that now separated them. He could hear her footsteps growing fainter as she ran down the long hallway, away from the Northern wing, away from the terrifying Beast who had frightened her… away from him.
He was about to take off after her when he recognised the familiar sound of Leah's footsteps coming to a halt beside him.
Give her a couple of minutes to gather herself, the she-wolf consoled. She's upset and probably needs a bit of time.
Jacob realised that he'd been holding his breath. I… I should go after her—he began.
Yeah, right, the she-wolf snorted. Like that's really going to help, considering you just damn near ripped her head off.
The memory of the fear on his imprint's face cut like a knife to Jacob's heart. Shut up, Leah, he snapped.
She's right, you know, Jared appeared on the other side of him. Jacob was now suddenly aware that the rest of his Pack had since entered the room. Great, that's all he needed—everyone witnessing the aftermath of him losing his temper with Nessie.
What the hell would you know? the Alpha grunted indignantly.
Plenty, Jared smiled. Imprinted wolf, remember? Trust me, count to 100 and then go after her. Anytime before then and she'll probably just refuse to listen to you. Actually, considering how loud you just yelled at her, better count to 300—
Jacob glared at his cousin, who immediately lowered his eyes to the floor. Even though the Alpha's fierce glower had had the intended intimidating effect, it didn't change the fact that the brown wolf beside him was right. Fuck.
Fine, Jacob grumbled. I get it. Five minutes, and then I'll go after her. Now everyone get outta here, he muttered. A few of the wolves exchanged knowing looks, a fact that did not escape the Alpha's eagle eye. NOW! he thundered.
Jacob watched as they moved off, the youngest ones scurrying hastily for the door. Sam was the last to leave. He turned at the doorway to shoot the Alpha an inquiring look.
Something you want to say, Sam? Jacob raised a figurative eyebrow.
Yeah—Don't fuck it up, the Beta deadpanned.
Helpful, thanks, Jacob snorted, feeling a tiny smile twitch at the edges of his muzzle. To his surprise, he felt the suffocating heaviness of the past few minutes lift slightly from his shoulders.
I do what I can, Sam shrugged as he exited the room, the door swinging closed behind him.
Jacob padded over to the mahogany writing desk and stopped to examine the fateful white rose displayed upon it. Nessie had recognised the rose—of that he was certain—the question now was whether she had made the connection to its significance? He would have a lot of explaining to do if—no, not if, when—she called him on it. He glanced up at the old grandfather clock in the corner. All right, five minutes. He could cool his heels until then. Well, he'd give it a damn good try, anyway.
The next few minutes seemed as though they were the longest that Jacob had ever had to endure. He tried to rehearse the explanation he would give Nessie for the white rose, but he was so unsettled, his mind kept snapping back to the distress in his imprint's eyes and the fear on her face. Agitation oozed from every fibre of his giant being, the need to find and comfort her thwarting his attempts to sit still and patiently wait out the time. He paced around the enormous room, anxious and fretful. Finally it became too much, and at four and a half minutes the Alpha decided that close enough was good enough. He pushed open the oak doors that separated the Northern wing from the rest of the castle and made his way down the long hallway towards Nessie's quarters.
He had started off slowly enough, but his concern had caused him to break into a trot about half way down the hallway. By the time he was within sight of Renesmee's rooms, Jacob had practically reached sprinting speed. He skidded to a stop just outside her door and gently tapped upon it—
Nessie? Are you there? He called out softly.
But all that answered him was silence.
Ness, it's me, he tried again, a little louder this time. I'm sorry I frightened you. Are you all right?
Still silence.
Nessie, I'm coming in, Jacob announced, a hint of desperation edging into his voice as he pushed open the doors to Renesmee's quarters. The great wolf's heart sank at the emptiness that greeted him. His Nessie was nowhere to be seen.
Jacob sniffed the air, trying to catch her scent. Yes, she had been here recently, but not for long. He knew that she wasn't elsewhere in the castle, or he would have picked up her scent when he'd made his way to her room. His mind began to race, wondering where she might be. It had only been ten, maybe fifteen, minutes at most—she couldn't be far.
Jacob padded out to the balcony and then raised his nose to the air again as he tried to work out in which direction his Nessie might have wandered. Her scent was so faint now, as if she were quite some distance away—surely she couldn't run that fast? The scent was so weak that he couldn't quite place her location either, causing a flicker of unease to rise up inside him.
In desperation, Jacob closed his eyes and reached out to her through the imprint bond. The tugging in his chest pulled towards the long tree-lined avenue, across the rambling gardens of wild red roses, and past the massive front gates to the shadowy forests beyond. Jacob's stomach dropped like a rock into water, as a cold and ominous dread gripped his heart.
With a sickening, sinking feeling he realised Nessie had left the castle grounds.
.
.
The wind beat against Renesmee's face as she galloped her horse away from the castle, desperately fleeing the terrifying Beast whose fury had been directed squarely at her.
Her first reaction to his rage had been fear, though she knew in her heart of hearts that her wolf would never hurt her. But he was so terrifying when he was angry, and so she had panicked and run. By the time she'd made it about three quarters of the way down the long hallway, her fear had turned to indignation. Master of the castle or no, how dare he speak to her like that? Even if she had disobeyed him by venturing into the Northern wing, he didn't have to be such an ogre about it.
Renesmee had, at first, sulkily withdrawn to her room, but when the realisation dawned on her that it wasn't her room at all but just another part of another place that belonged to him, she had made a beeline for the stables, saddled up her horse and taken flight. She knew she was behaving like a petulant child and that she would get over it and head back to the castle eventually, but for now, she just needed to escape for a little while.
Her first instinct had been to run home to her family, but she knew that a promise was a promise—her life in exchange for her father's—and so she would honour that debt and return to the castle…eventually. In the meantime, an hour or so of alone time was what she needed now, and so she rode and rode, not really knowing where she was headed, just that she wanted to get away from everything.
Renesmee slowed her horse down to a canter and cast her eyes at her surroundings. She'd ridden so fast and with such a need to get away, she had not looked where she was going. She remembered passing through some enormous gates and following a road, but that road had now worn down into an old and overrun dirt path which was barely visible as a path at all. In every direction around her, the shadowy forest stretched out as far as the eye could see, every tree looking exactly like the one next to it. Renesmee felt a shudder in her spine.
She was lost.
She was suddenly aware of another presence nearby, and her heart lifted with the hope that it might be her russet wolf come to rescue her.
"Jake?" she called out, a hopeful lilt to her voice, "Jake, is that you?"
Renesmee heard a rustling in the thicket. For a brief moment, the memory of the recurring dream that she'd been having up to her arrival at the castle flickered in her mind—how she would be in the meadow and then she'd hear a sound in amongst the trees and then the giant russet wolf who looked so much like Jake would emerge from the underbrush. Encouraged by this memory, she dismounted her horse to have a closer look.
Renesmee reached out to part the bushes, expecting to find her wolf's warm onyx eyes. But the wild, yellow orbs that glowed back at her from the darkness of the underbrush did not belong to her Jacob.
With a startled cry, Renesmee drew her hand away. A large hulking shape emerged from the thicket as she scrambled backwards, terror gripping every bone in her small body. The creature stood on its hind legs, so strangely wolf-like, yet not a wolf. It ambled towards her with an ape-like gait, its lips curled back in a menacing snarl. Renesmee paused for a moment, thinking that perhaps this creature might be tame like the wolves at the castle. But one look into its wild, yellow eyes and her hopes were immediately dashed. This was a wild and feral creature, and she knew that it would tear her to pieces the first chance it got.
Renesmee scrambled away as the creature continued moving towards her. She saw it leap her way and she closed her eyes to prepare for the worst. But the blow did not come. Instead, she heard a massive thud, and opened her eyes to see the creature had been pinned to the ground by something huge and sandy-coloured.
"Seth!" Renesmee cried.
You ok, kid? Leah's warm voice echoed in Renesmee's mind as the she-wolf trotted up to join her brother.
"Oh Leah, Seth, oh thank God," Renesmee sobbed, hot tears of relief escaping to fall unashamedly down her cheeks. "Thank you, thank you for saving me! What is that creature?"
Chrrmldovvamuhn, Seth answered through teeth that were still wrapped around the creature's neck. One of his giant paws held the creature flat against the ground as it struggled against his hold.
It's a Child of the Moon, Leah translated, padding over to help her brother keep the creature down. What are you doing out here anyway? Lucky we were patrolling nearby. Don't you know how dangerous it is? I thought Jake told you never to leave the castle grounds without an escort, she admonished.
"Well," Renesmee huffed through teary indignation, "It's all well and good for Jacob to be handing down orders—" but she didn't get to finish what she was saying. Three more of the creatures had emerged from the dark forest, and now had them surrounded.
A look of confusion crossed Leah's face. What the hell—
"What's wrong?" Renesmee asked, sensing the edge of panic that had bled into the she-wolf's voice.
They're not supposed to hunt in packs. Leah answered, circling around to position herself defensively in front of Renesmee as she kept a guarded eye on the new arrivals. Seth, put that thing out of its misery and get your ass over here, now!
With military precision, Seth picked up the Child of the Moon that was in his giant jaws and slammed it against a large tree trunk, knocking it out cold. Then quick as a flash, he leapt to the other side of Renesmee, ensuring that she was flanked on both sides by her protectors.
The seriousness of the situation slowly sunk in upon Renesmee. What did Leah mean, these creatures aren't supposed to hunt in packs? Had the wolves never taken down more than one of them at a time? She'd noticed the panic in Leah's voice, and the sudden alertness in Seth's demeanour. Her heart began to beat wildly, the realisation that they were outnumbered and in mortal danger causing a sickening, sinking feeling in her chest.
Upon seeing the fate of their packmate, the three Children of the Moon growled and gnashed their teeth. Their lips curled back in menacing snarls as they coiled themselves ready to spring.
You take the one on the left, I'll take down the two on this side, Seth signalled to his sister. And as soon as they charge at us, Ness you run as fast as you can, okay? The castle's this way, he signalled with his muzzle, Just keep running straight and you'll get to the road. That'll take you back to the castle.
"But I—" Renesmee began.
RUN! Leah cried at Renesmee, as the Children of the Moon launched themselves towards them.
Renesmee took off as fast as her feet would take her. She was worried about Seth and Leah, but she knew that they were much more capable of fighting off the creatures than a frail human such as herself. Her presence would only distract them. And so she ran and ran, a tugging in her chest pulling her towards something in the distance.
The trees suddenly opened up onto a clearing and Renesmee was taken aback for a split second, surprised by the sudden change in her surroundings. But that was not the only thing that stopped her dead in her tracks. To her dismay, she saw three more Children of the Moon had positioned themselves directly in her path. For a moment she thought they might have been the ones who had ambushed Seth and Leah earlier, and an icy horror gripped her heart at the thought that her friends might have been slaughtered. But she could still hear the sounds of their fighting, which meant that at least they were still alive. But this meant that the ones now before her were a different lot from those she had encountered earlier. How many of these creatures were there? She had heard the old legends, but the sightings were supposedly few and far between. And, as Leah had pointed out—They're not supposed to hunt in packs.
The three Children of the Moon advanced across the clearing towards her, their eyes wild and furious as they watched her back away from them. But then to Renesmee's surprise they stopped suddenly, their hackles now raised in defence rather than attack.
Renesmee felt that pull in her chest again, only this time it reached through the back of her chest to something—or someone—behind her. She turned to see a giant russet wolf emerge from the darkness of the trees, a low growl rumbling dangerously in his chest. The usual warmth of his onyx eyes now replaced with a cold rage directed squarely at the Children of the Moon who threatened the safety of his imprint.
"Jake!" Renesmee cried, relief flooding through every fibre of her being.
The Alpha's eyes softened as he looked at his love. Are you all right, Nessie? he asked, stepping protectively in front of her and returning his fierce glare to stare down the Children of the Moon. 'Touch her, and I'll tear your throats out', it seemed to say.
"I am now," she answered, nuzzling into the warmth of his rich, velvety fur.
And then something odd suddenly occurred to Renesmee—why had these Children of the Moon not attacked Jacob? Their packmates had attacked Leah and Seth, but these three were crouched down in a defensive stance rather than in attack. And then it dawned on her—As Alpha, Jacob was larger than all the other wolves, with a presence more intimidating to the enemy than the rest of the Pack put together. They were afraid of him. And as if confirming her hypothesis, the three werewolves snarled defensively at Jacob, but made no move to attack.
For a brief moment, Renesmee thought she and Jake were home free and all they would have to do was back away and leave the scene (and maybe even circle back to give Leah and Seth a helping hand), but then two more werewolves emerged to join the first three. Their confidence now buoyed by the fact they outnumbered their enemy five to one, the Children of the Moon began circling and moving themselves into attack formation.
Nessie, Jacob's voice was a deep rumble in her mind, Listen to me carefully. Stay close to me. I'll do what I can to keep them away from you, but if I should fall, then you run, understand? Do not hesitate or look back. I will protect you with my dying breath, but if you see a chance for escape, take it.
"Jake, no…" she sobbed, the tears now falling freely, not out of fear for her own life but at the thought of what might become of her wolf. All the anger and indignation she'd felt towards him less than an hour ago fading into insignificance. She nuzzled further into his rich velvet coat and breathed in his comforting pine and warm-earth scent, willing the nightmare that now surrounded them to go away. If anything were to happen to him, she knew she couldn't bear it. Her heart felt as if it was on the verge of breaking, and she stopped abruptly, confused by the feelings rushing around in such a jumbled mess in her heart and mind. But Jacob's voice drew her back from her reverie—
Sam and the others are on their way and will find you, he whispered, but in the meantime, stay out of sight as much as you can because there could be more Children of the Moon lurking in the woods. If I fall, Nessie, you must run. Do you understand?—
Without warning, one of the Children of the Moon lunged at them. Jacob batted it off without effort, keeping his body sheltered over Renemee as a protective shield. The creature rounded back, snarling as it readied itself for another attack.
This time, as it launched itself at the russet wolf, another two lunged at him at the same time while the remaining two headed straight for Renesmee. Jacob spun around to keep himself between his imprint and her attackers, grabbing one with his giant muzzle and striking the other out of the way before either could get close to her. The others saw their chance now that his attention was directed away from them, and they attacked him simultaneously.
A scream caught in Renesmee's throat as she saw the creatures sink their teeth into her wolf's neck and back. Jacob pushed them off easily, crashing their bodies onto the ground but they rose up again and resumed their attacks with renewed effort. One of them broke away from Jacob and turned to Renesmee, snapping and dragging at her dress, causing it to tear with a sickening rip.
Jacob's head spun around at the sound, his body seemingly oblivious to the four assailants tearing at his flesh.
You're dead, fucker! the Alpha thundered, and with one massive swipe of his paw the Child of the Moon who had attacked Renesmee lay lifeless on the ground.
The creature's packmates were momentarily taken aback by the russet wolf's ferocity, but then snapped out of it and resumed their attacks with renewed vigour. Returning his attention to the remaining assailants, Jacob snapped and swiped to free himself of them, but every time he succeeded in disposing of one, its packmates would double their efforts while their fallen comrade regrouped before resuming its attacks. Renesmee looked around desperately for a stick or rocks or something, anything, with which she could help to beat off her wolf's attackers, but to no avail.
And then suddenly a black blur came in to view and one Child of the Moon was yanked off Jacob, then a brown blur wrenched another one to the ground. With only two remaining on him now, the Alpha was able to make quick work of his attackers.
It had all happened so fast, one blur after another, moving so fast that if she'd blinked she might have missed it. When the dust settled, Renesmee looked around to see that Sam and Quil now each had a Child of the Moon pinned to the ground, and Jacob had two whimpering pitifully in front of him. Paul, Jared and Brady had also appeared and now stood guard over the scene like three enormous canine sentries, their teeth bared menacingly at their now subdued adversaries.
Looks like the Cavalry's arrived, Seth grinned as he bounded into view, followed closely by Leah. He was dragging two Children of the Moon in his giant jaws, holding them by the scruff of their necks, and his sister had two more of the same. Renesmee felt the relief flood her body at the knowledge that her friends had managed to escape their battle unharmed. With a massive heave, Seth and Leah threw their prisoners onto the pile of cowering werewolves, and marched over to join their cousins.
What do you want done with these? Sam asked, gesturing to the now rather large collection of creatures on the ground before them.
Jacob eyed his captives carefully. Now was as good a time as any to interrogate them.
Why did you attack us? he growled at them.
Their snarling cries answered nought.
Why did you attack us? Jacob demanded again, the anger simmering beneath his skin threatening dangerously to boil over.
The creatures pressed themselves further into the ground, as if burrowing into the dirt would somehow offer a way of escape from the Alpha's fury. Finally, one of them answered, lifting a rangy finger and pointing it at Renesmee.
All eyes turned to the Alpha's imprint, who stood there wide-eyed, stunned and more surprised than any of them.
What does Nessie have to do with any of this? Jacob's eyes narrowed as he contemplated the creature cowering on the ground before him. His mind raced, anxiously trying to reconcile what had just been revealed to him, with the intel he'd been imparting to his Pack only hours before.
The Child of the Moon lowered its head to the ground again, providing no further response other than its pitiful whimpering.
ANSWER ME! the Alpha demanded, barely able to contain his fury.
"Jake," a soft touch upon his shoulder melted the rage away and brought a sudden calmness to his soul. He turned to look at his imprint, her tiny hand upon his massive shoulder and her deep brown eyes looking earnestly into his own. "I don't think they can talk," she offered softly.
Jacob returned his gaze to the creatures trembling on the ground before him. Neither he nor his Pack had ever tried to communicate with the Children of the Moon before—indeed they'd never had any need to, given that their interactions until now had only been to chase them down and away from villagers and townspeople. This was the first time any of them had even attempted to converse with the creatures.
What— Jacob asked the werewolves again, with slightly less anger in his voice though his tone remained stern and firm —do you want with Renesmee?
The whimpering and snarling sounds coming from the Children of the Moon confirmed to the Alpha Renesmee's suspicions. Though they could understand what was being communicated to them, they weren't able to communicate back—at least not verbally in a way that Jacob or any of his wolves would be able to understand.
So what do you want done with them, Jacob? Sam asked. Dungeon, or… the Beta's voice trailed off. The only other option than imprisonment was death.
The Alpha's thoughts flickered briefly to the dungeons. Though incarceration would be the more humane choice, the Pack had its own problems with which to contend—the curse spiralling towards its inevitable deadline, the younger wolves beginning to slowly lose their humanity one by one, not to mention a certain inquisitive imprint keeping them all on their toes. Taking prisoners would only serve to add to their worries.
The other option would be to execute them. But, Jacob reflected as he contemplated the wretched creatures cowering on the ground, he would not take a life needlessly, even if it was the life of his enemy. He looked over at the limp and broken body of the Child of the Moon who had dared to attack his imprint—the creature was dead at Jacob's own hand, a victim of the Alpha's fury. Other than in self-defence, that would be the only reason he would take a life—to protect the one whom he held most precious.
As if she sensed his thoughts of her, Renesmee tightened her hold upon Jacob's fur. He turned to look at his bronze-haired angel and as her eyes met his, she felt his gaze reach through those windows to her soul and how willingly it was laid bare for him. The familiar fluttering in her stomach started up again, and Renesmee lowered her eyes, suddenly self-conscious of the blush rapidly rising to her cheeks. She twisted nervously, wanting to escape the unwavering gaze that caused her so much confusion, yet not wanting to be separated from the wolf whose presence gave her such comfort. Instinctively, she nuzzled herself further into his side, seeking reassurance in his touch.
Jacob felt her curl into him, and his heart swelled with love for his imprint. Feeling her now nestled into his side, such a sense of contentment rushed through him as his whole body hummed in pleasure. Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from her, steeling himself to deal with the matter of what to do with these eight captives. Taking a deep breath, he uttered the words he hoped he would not come to regret—
Let them go, he said.
All eyes turned to look at him in disbelief. Snarls of protest began to rise from his wolves, but the Alpha silenced them with a single look.
I will release you this time, he declared to the Children of the Moon. But heed my words—return and I shall not be so merciful. And, he lowered his voice to a menacing growl, to your leader, take this warning—Stay off our lands!
Upon the nod from their Alpha, Sam and Quil lifted their giant paws from their two captives and at the same time Jared, Seth, Leah, Brady and a reluctant Paul stood aside to allow the Children of the Moon their escape. As soon as they saw their chance, the creatures beat a hasty retreat, scuttling off to disappear into the dark shadows of the forest.
What the hell was that? Paul snarled at Jacob. Why the fuck did you let them go?
PAUL! Sam reprimanded. Aside from the fact that Jacob was Alpha and did not have to justify his decisions to anyone, Renesmee was standing right there listening to the conversation and Emily would have his hide for allowing that kind of language in front of a young girl.
It's all right Sam, Jacob said. An explanation is probably warranted. Turning to his wolves, he proffered—The change in behaviour we've seen in the Children of the Moon this last week must be happening for a reason. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one here who noticed that they were hunting as a pack—something unheard of until now. Aside from the fact that we've got too much at stake right now to be extending ourselves to guard a bunch of unwieldy prisoners, executing them would give us no discernible benefit. They'll deliver to their leader the message to stay off our lands—that will either work and they'll keep to themselves from now on, or we'll have more attacks to contend with, but at least we'll be ready. Releasing them also means that they might lead us back to their nest since we've encountered them, and so now we can track them by their scent and—
Jacob stopped suddenly, his vision beginning to swim before his eyes. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he felt his legs threatening to give way.
"Jake, are you all right?" Renesmee asked, pulling away to examine Jacob's injuries. To her horror, she found her dress and hands covered in blood. More of the bright red liquid was pooling at the russet wolf's feet, seeping down his mighty limbs in crimson streams from the savage wounds inflicted upon him by the Children of the Moon.
Until now, none of the wolves had noticed that Jacob's wounds were still raw—they had just assumed that the accelerated healing powers to which they'd become accustomed would kick in and do their job. Looks of panic crossed their faces. What the hell was going on? Even the usually stoic Sam was looking rattled.
Oh shit, Leah gasped. Why isn't he healing?
Renesmee's mind was reeling. She'd read something about this before, recalling an obscure chapter somewhere in one of her Grandfather's journals. What was it? She searched within the recesses of her memory, and then it came flooding back to her.
"Their bite is poisonous," she explained flatly. "I think I might know how to treat the poison, but we must get Jacob back to the castle. It's not safe for him to be out here in his weakened state…"
The russet wolf's ears were ringing with the conversation going on around him. He tried to respond to say that he was fine and to stop fussing over him, but his body wouldn't obey. The dizziness was so overwhelming, and suddenly he felt his world spin and his legs involuntarily buckle.
With a sickening thud, the Alpha fell to the ground, his consciousness engulfed by dark nothingness…
.
.
Renesmee watched as the clouds swirled overhead, curling to slowly form shape after wispy shape against the backdrop of seemingly endless blue expanse of sky. The young man laying on the soft grass beside her seemed to growl gently in his sleep, and she wondered briefly why the sound seemed so familiar.
Renesmee propped herself up on one elbow, leaning over to admire her companion's handsome chiselled features. From his high cheekbones to the strong line of his jaw and full sensuous lips, he was undeniably beautiful, yet indisputably masculine. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on his brow, and his eyelids fluttered open, the long, black lashes flickering against his smooth russet skin.
"Hey," he smiled at her languidly through heavy lidded eyes, his voice husky with sleep. Even half asleep, he was still beautiful.
"You're awake," she smiled.
"Mmmm," he sighed contentedly, gazing up at the perfection that was his bronze-haired angel. "That I am."
"I… uh, I didn't meant to wake you," Renesmee murmured shyly.
Her companion's eyes twinkled with mischief. "I'm glad you did," he winked. "And as far as wake-up calls go, it's pretty hard to top being woken with a kiss from you, Ness."
Renesmee felt the blush rise to her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze demurely. She felt a warm touch on her cheek, as a strong russet hand caressed its softness, his thumb tracing tender patterns across her flawless white skin. She smiled into the warmth of his touch, nuzzling her face into the hand that tenderly cupped her face.
"C'mere," he growled playfully, rolling his massive body over. With a strong arm snaking around to Renesmee's back he leaned her backwards until she lay on the soft grass, her hair splayed around her like a silken bronze halo.
Leaning over her, he propped himself up on a muscled arm, his large body pressing her much smaller one into the soft grass. Gently, he touched his lips to hers, and she opened them, inviting him to deepen the kiss. She felt his wet tongue trace the inside edge of her mouth, warm and indolent like a lazy summer's day, and its sweetness drew a soft moan of pleasure from her lips.
He lifted his head to look into his eyes, and she saw her own reflected in the dark onyx pools, darkened with desire and need. "I love you, Ness," he murmured, so softly it might have been mistaken for a whisper on the wind. Before she could answer, he leaned back down again, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip and eliciting a sigh of pleasure from his love.
As he traced his other hand down the side of her body, from the underside of her breast, down the flat plane of her stomach to settle on the curve of her hip, she felt his need for her pulsate through the warm touch of his fingertips, causing a flash of heat to ignite between her thighs. Instinctively she arched her back, trying to press as much of herself into him as she could, a whimper of pleasure escaping her heated raspberry lips. She felt a rush of damp need between her legs, and the now familiar craving became ever more agonising in its sweet intensity.
The scent and sound seemed to trigger a reaction in her companion, and she felt a low purr of pleasure rumble in his chest. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed both of her wrists, and with one hand pinned them above her head as his hot tongue continued to push hungrily inside her mouth. The sudden movement surprised her, and her sharp intake of breath was all it took—
He pulled back suddenly, causing Renesmee to reel in confusion. Had she done something wrong? Why had he withdrawn from her? She looked at him, wide-eyed and confused, not understanding what had just happened.
"You fear him," he said quietly, as if by way of explanation.
"Fear who?" she asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow, her face still flushed with traces of passion. No-one else was here. Who was there to fear?
He took a deep breath before answering. "The Beast."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Renesmee felt the annoyance beginning to bubble up. Why did they always have to end up talking about the Beast? Yes, she cared for him, but she cared for her companion too and this was their 'dream-dating' time, dammit. The physical frustration she felt building up inside her wasn't helping either, as if there was some pressure valve in her body clamouring for release.
"I felt your fear, Nessie—when I... when I grabbed your wrists and held them above you, I felt it. I'm so sorry."
Renesmee was confused. Yes, she had been surprised by his sudden movement, and perhaps there had been a split second of alarm because of its suddenness, but certainly not enough to dull the desire. If anything, it had only served to heighten her awareness of it, of him. Her heart fluttered at the memory of it, and of the strange sensations her companion's seemingly innocuous act of dominance had awoken in her, and her strange desire—her inexplicable need—to submit to him.
"I didn't mind," she chose her words carefully, "When you grabbed my wrists, I mean. I think I even kind of liked it."
His eyes took on a strangely visceral, almost primal, hunger and she shuddered pleasurably at the intensity with which they watched her. 'Mine' the onyx pools seemed to susurrate. But then he blinked, and they were back again to the gentleness that she knew so well.
"But you fled from him today," her companion observed, returning the conversation back to the matter of the Beast. Why did he always have to do that? It was as if it was always the three of them here, the Beast prowling in the background like some unseen but ever-present spectre.
"Of course I did," she retorted. "He scared me."
"You fear him then," her companion observed quietly.
"No, I feared his temper," she corrected. "The Beast is terrifying, I'll admit," but, she added silently to herself, at the same time there was such a gentleness about him—one that tugged inexplicably at her heartstrings. He was such a contradiction—fierce yet gentle, terrifying yet undeniably magnetic, and the confusion it caused in her heart and mind was starting to reach crescendo pitch. "And anyway—what's not to fear?" she continued, hoping that the slight tremble in her voice would not betray the turmoil coursing around inside her. "He's a terrifying Beast, with enormous teeth and giant claws. I saw what he did to that Child of the Moon today—all it took was one enraged swipe of his paw, and it was dead."
"He did it to protect you," her companion defended.
"Don't you think I know that?" Renesmee retorted. "But what's to say that he wouldn't one day lose control and take a hand to me? One snap of his giant jaws, and I'd be gone."
"He would never hurt you," her companion replied, the stinging rebuke that shone in his eyes causing her to immediately reconsider her careless assertion.
"What makes you so sure?" she nevertheless bit back, all the while knowing in her heart that her companion was right. The Beast would never hurt her, and she knew it deep within her bones. There was always an air of controlled fury about him, like the thorny brambles of wild red roses that interwove with the soft tendrils of green ivy throughout the castle and its grounds—pushing and pulling against each other in a delicately balanced ballad of control and surrender.
Her companion took a deep breath and leaned back in to her again, his eyes gazing earnestly into hers with a dark onyx intensity that made her stomach flip somersaults, just like when Jacob looked at her, she recalled with a brief flash of puzzlement.
"He loves you," her companion stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He loves you with all his heart and soul. With his dying breath he would protect you, forsaking all others, forsaking even the world—for a world without you would be a dark and meaningless existence for him."
The young man's pronouncement echoed silently in the air. Such a declaration of love, it made Renesmee's head spin and her heart giddy with joy, and she felt the blush creep into her cheeks again. But this was no declaration, she reminded herself, merely one person's interpretation of another's feelings.
"Do you love me?" Renesmee asked her companion, some unfathomable need to know suddenly nipping at her curiosity.
"I do," he murmured softly, a warm hand gently caressing her face as she leaned in to it. "With all my heart and soul."
"As much as you claim the Beast does?" she ventured.
"With all my heart and soul," he whispered again.
"Then what does it matter what the Beast feels?" she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I care for him—that I will not deny—We are friends, and in the time we have spent together I have come to see that he is more than just a dangerous and terrifying Beast. He also has a warm heart and gentle soul. But I also care for you—and you admit yourself that you return my affections."
"But you ran," her companion murmured. "You ran away. We cannot protect you if you do not allow us to…"
We? Renesmee felt a sudden confusion in the back of her mind. Why was her companion referring to himself in the plural? She wondered if it was indeed only a slip of the tongue, or a symptom of something more significant. She started to ask him, but her voice caught in her throat as she felt herself being pulled away…
.
.
.
When Jacob came to, he was lying on the daybed in the library. How did he get here? Everything was a blur—one moment he was explaining to his wolves why he'd let those Children of the Moon go, and the next minute everything looked like it was underwater and then… darkness.
And then he'd opened his eyes in that wonderful dream world, awakened by the soft touch of his Nessie's lips upon his brow. Passing out wasn't so bad after all, he decided. Embarrassing, sure, but given what greeted him afterwards, he was willing to deal—as long as no-one used the "F" word. The Alpha did not faint, and any wolf who begged to differ would deal with a broken jaw as their reminder.
Jacob's gaze drifted to the window and he saw that night had now fallen—the moon was less than a sliver in the night sky now, and tomorrow it would be the dark night of no moon. A warm fire crackled at the hearth, and he saw that Sam and Seth were seated on their haunches nearby, not far from where he lay. Their ears cocked up in alertness at the movement of their Alpha, but then settled down again once it was clear he was all right. Sam yawned and returned his attention to the crackling fire. Sure Jake, his lazy yawn seemed to say, no F-word.
Jacob looked over to the armchair next to the daybed. Nessie was curled up in its enormous upholstered fittings, her long bronze curls sprawled out on the armrests as she rested her head in sleep. As if sensing his presence, she opened her eyes slowly and a flicker of awareness twinkled in the dark brown orbs.
"You're awake," she smiled, gazing at him, and he was briefly reminded of how she had looked at him in that hazy dream world from which they had just awoken.
His thoughts flickered back to their kisses, and the passion that had overtaken him. The undeniable scent of her arousal and the whimper of pleasure he had elicited from her lips had confirmed her need for him. She was his mate, and she had wanted him. He'd grabbed her wrists, the need to mark her as his own intensifying in every fibre of his being with a passion that surprised even himself. And then he'd sensed it, the fear in her body. It was only momentary, but it was enough to bring back the memories of how he had shouted at her earlier that day and the fear it had painted across her face. And the guilt was overpowering.
And so he'd pulled away. She had been confused at first, but then they had talked and she had made it clear that it was not the Beast whom she feared, but rather the ferocity that he was capable of. He had confessed to her how he felt, but then absentmindedly he'd referred to his human and lupine selves as one entity. Realising what he'd done, he had panicked and begun to stir to wakefulness, and so that was where they were now.
Jacob tried to get up, but a pain in his side tugged at him, making him wince.
"Don't move, Jake," Renesmee admonished. "Most of the poison is gone now, but the wounds are taking a bit longer to heal."
Poison? he looked at her, not quite understanding. What poison?
"The Children of the Moon," Renesmee offered by way of explanation. "Their bite is poisonous. I remembered reading in my Grandfather's books about a remedy to treat them, but I wasn't sure if it would work on you—you know, since you're a wolf and all. But it seems to be coming along just fine."
Jacob smiled internally. Of course the remedy would work on him. After all, he was human too, even if he did seem to spend most days walking around as a giant furball. He glanced over to Sam and Seth, who seemed to be chewing the insides of their cheeks—if wolves could even do that—trying not to laugh. Then slowly the door opened, and the rest of the Pack, except for the ones on patrol, filed in one by one. Pack mind, Jacob surmised, as he acknowledged their entrance with a nod. Seth or Sam must have sent a message to them saying that he was awake.
Renesmee rose from the armchair, picking up a basketful of herbs, bandages and creams from the table beside her. She positioned herself next to him on the daybed, taking out various bits and pieces from the basket. Jacob shrunk away.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
What do you think you're doing? he looked at her suspiciously.
"I'm going to change the dressing on your wounds," she stated matter-of-factly.
No, he said.
"No?" she countered.
No, he repeated.
"Jake, I can tell you're still in pain. The sooner you let me deal with these wounds, the sooner they will heal."
I said no. N. O. No! Jacob's nostrils flared in indignation. He wasn't going to be waited on like some invalid. He was the Alpha and he'd heal under his own steam, pain be damned.
Renesmee sighed, ignoring him as she pulled a square of gauze out from the basket, shaping it to a size sufficient to cover the gaping wound on the Alpha's side that still oozed crimson pain. Gently she pulled off the old dressing.
AWRRRHH! the Beast moaned as she placed her hand over his wounds, gently dabbing cool salve to soothe his injuries. Several of the younger wolves cowered back at the sight of their leader in such a ferocious state.
"Will you just hold still?" Renesmee begged as Jacob evaded another attempt to cleanse his wounds.
That hurt! he snapped at her.
"It wouldn't hurt so much if you would just hold still!" she retorted.
Well, I wouldn't be hurt if I hadn't had to save you from those monsters! he bit back. What did I tell you about not venturing out of the palace grounds on your own?
"You frightened me!" she protested
You shouldn't have run away!
"Well you shouldn't have shouted at me!"
YOU shouldn't have gone into the Northern Wing!
"Well, you …" Renesmenee stopped. He had her there. This really was all her fault. "Fine, well maybe I wouldn't have gotten myself into that mess if you hadn't frightened me so," she sniffed indignantly.
Jacob's face softened as he looked at his imprint. I'm sorry I scared you, he whispered gently.
"I'm not scared of you," Renesmee said softly. And, surprisingly, she found truth within those words. The Beast no longer gave her such a fright. Indeed, he hadn't put her ill at ease for quite some time now. Even in this wild, growling and very ungentlemanly state, she saw no frightening animal; only someone who was deeply hurt and needed a gentle touch.
"And thank you, for saving me," she added softly, gratitude brimming from her voice.
You're welcome, he replied graciously. His Nessie had said that she did not fear him, and as Jacob looked into her eyes, he saw they only spoke the truth. There was no fear, merely concern for his well-being—concern, for him. And to know that she cared, really, truly cared, filled his heart with warmth.
And so he gritted his teeth and sat still, finally allowing her to finish dressing his wounds.
.
.
Renesmee watched as the leaves in the trees overlooking the small private garden fluttered gently in the breeze. The waters of a small babbling brook giggled its way over the cobblestones, winding its way around the large weeping willow in its centre. The setting seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. It was as if something were missing, and then she realised—the garden had no wild red roses, only soft white lilies and boughs of lavender. She had become so accustomed to the backdrop of rambling red roses and tendrils of green ivy, it now seemed strange to be anywhere without it. She was drawn out of her reverie by a voice—
"Hello, Renesmee," a warm, sweet sound greeted her. Renesmee turned towards it, and found herself face-to-face with kind, chocolate eyes that appraised her affectionately. She immediately recognised their owner as the regal older woman from the family portrait she had been admiring only days ago.
"Good day Ma'am," Renesmee curtsied. She didn't know why she did that, only that she felt she was in the presence of royalty and needed to do something to acknowledge it.
The queen (she supposed she must have been a queen) looked at her, a mocha smile full of warmth and kindness illuminating her face. "There's no need for pomp and ceremony, my dear," she said kindly, as she moved over to the marble bench under the large willow, beckoning Renesmee to join her.
"Now come and tell me what it is that troubles you so," she patted the seat next to her.
"Is this a dream?" Renesmee asked as she made her way over to sit as she was beckoned, somewhat baffled by this new setting and meeting someone from a seemingly old and forgotten portrait.
"It is and it isn't, dear," the older woman smiled at her kindly, a wonderful motherly smile that warmed the corners of Renesmee's heart.
Renesmee felt such love and compassion coming from the older woman, and she wanted so much to nestle in to her embrace, memories flickering in her mind of how it had felt, so many years ago now it barely registered anymore, to be held in the warmth and safety of her own mother's loving arms.
"I… I don't understand," Renesmee stammered. "Am I dreaming or not?"
"In a manner of speaking," the queen answered cryptically. "But that doesn't really matter. There is confusion burning inside you, my child. But the source of your troubled soul lies not in the matter of whether this is a dream or not—but in the truth that you continue to deny," she said.
"I still don't understand," Renesmee murmured. She didn't wish to be rude, but the queen was speaking in such enigmatic terms it was beginning to give her a headache.
The older woman smiled at her kindly, taking Renesmee's hand gently in her own. "I wish I could do more, my child. But all I can offer you is this— However cruel the mirrors of trespass may seem, search within your own heart and soul and you will find beauty within the beast…".
.
.
Renesmee awoke with a jolt. She looked around and realised that she was in the library, having fallen asleep again in the armchair as she watched over Jacob. She looked up to see that he was still dozing fitfully on the daybed, his wounds not yet fully healed. Leah and Embry had taken over from Sam and Seth, and were dutifully guarding them—Leah by her side, and Embry crouched down next to where their Alpha slept.
Renesmee got up from the chair, and Leah and Embry flicked their ears at her quizzically. She nodded an 'it's okay' gesture to them and they settled back down, as she made her way over to the daybed upon which Jacob slept. As she sat herself down and nestled into his side, he sighed contentedly as if her touch had soothed away the pain and fever in his ravaged body.
Nuzzling closer to him, Renesmee's thoughts wandered to that hazy dream world, and to the words of love her companion, whose face was now again just a misty memory, had professed to her about her wolf—'With his dying breath he would protect you, forsaking all others…'
Indeed, Jacob had almost given his life to protect her today, and had that eventuated and not merely been an 'almost', Renesmee began to comprehend with startling realisation that it would have left an emptiness in her soul that could never be filled. A lump rose in her throat, as she choked back the hot, salty tears welling up in her eyes. She loved this mighty Beast—of that she was certain—but what definition of 'love' had she been hiding behind?
Renesmee touched her tiny hands gently to her russet wolf's face, as the old queen's words reverberated within her consciousness—search within your own heart and soul and you will find beauty within the beast…
