CHAPTER TWELVE
For the rest of the night, Zora stayed planted next to Leah, quietly fuming as she stuffed her face with s'mores. She refused to make eye contact with her pack mates who were all equally impressed with her reaction. Leah was especially proud, though she would have liked to hear more swear words thrown in.
Zora was also proud of herself, but still unhappy. She had to watch Bella cuddle up to Jacob for warmth, and it was both irritating and pathetic. She looked so content to be close to him and it made Zora wonder why she was in a relationship with Edward when she appeared to be happy with Jacob. And she hated that when Bella said his name—Jake, not Jacob—his head perked up so quickly he could have given himself whiplash.
She was unable to concentrate while most of the histories were being told—the spirit warriors' origin, the rise and fall of Utlapa, the rebirth of Taha Aki—but one story always grabbed her attention. The story of the Third Wife.
"Throughout his long life, Taha Aki fathered many sons with his first two wives. There was one wife he cherished most, though, one wife he considered his true soul mate: the Third Wife. His love for her made him decide to stop phasing altogether; he was in old age and wanted to live out the rest of his days as a human. However, a foreign predator had returned. The mate of a Cold One, killed by Taha Aki and the Third Wife's eldest son, Yaha Uta, sought vengeance for her slain mate.
"Although Taha Aki had many sons, not all liked the transformation that was passed onto them. Those who did not want to join the pack remained human and aged as such; others joined their father and became warriors for their community. It was these warriors who fought off the first Cold One – a male who took the lives of several Quileute wolf-men. Only Yaha Uta survived, and with him, he brought the creature's body, torn to pieces so that it could no longer kill. The elders set fire to the remains after they tried to reassemble themselves and spread the ashes throughout the land. For safety measures, Taha Aki wore a small bag of ashes around his neck so that he may be warned in case the creature tried to build itself again."
The wrinkled man, who Zora learned was Quil's grandfather, Old Quil, paused in his storytelling and motioned to the man in the wheelchair. With a grim expression, the man removed the necklace he was wearing and held it in the air. Attached was a small, blackened bag swaying ominously. Zora, and a few others, gasped. Though she'd heard the legends before, some of the details she heard tonight were new to her, as if they'd been deliberately left out in the past. She had never seen the bag until now and grew nauseous at the sight of it.
"Taha Aki and the others believed the threat was destroyed. Unbeknownst to them, the Cold One's mate would come looking for him a few days later. The Quileute people had never seen such a sight – her beauty was inhuman, and they did not understand the strange, musical language she spoke. Only one had been of Taha Aki's blood, a small boy who shouted to his mother that the woman's scent was burning his nose. Another Quileute man realized who she was, and before he could run to warn Taha Aki, the Cold One killed him."
Zora, who was deeply immersed in the magic of Old Quil's narration, broke from her daze to glance around the circle. Sam, as usual, wore a straight-faced, authoritative expression; Emily was taking notes, furiously scribbling onto a pad of paper; Leah had her hands in her lap, her eyes closed; Quil, Embry, Seth, Brady and Collin had wide eyes, hanging on the end of every word; Jared had his arms wrapped around a disconcerted-looking Kim; Paul was focused, absentmindedly shoving graham crackers into his mouth; Bella looked guilty, probably thinking of her horrible, beloved bloodsucker family; and Jacob—he was staring at Zora. When her eyes met his, she had half a mind to drop her gaze. They looked at each other from across the fire, Zora unable to read him. She could see the reflection of the flames in his eyes, and the longer they stared at each other, the more intimate it felt. Her face grew hot and she knew it wasn't from the heat of the bonfire. She finally looked away, hoping no one would notice she was blushing.
"Being the only warrior left, Yaha Uta released his wolf and sprang into battle. Alone, he was no match for the creature's strength and speed. He lost, and having witnessed his son's death, Taha Aki filled with so much rage he transformed into his once-dormant wolf. The wolf was large and greyed with age, but he was Taha Aki, the Great Spirit Chief, and fought without hesitation. He was losing the battle, and fearing the total destruction of her people and death of her husband after losing her sons, the Third Wife acted quickly. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she plunged Taha Aki's blade into her own heart.
"The scent of human blood immediately enticed the Cold One, who stopped her fighting to quench her thirst. As soon as she turned her back, Taha Aki and two of his youngest sons—who turned after watching their mother die—lunged for the creature and tore her apart. After setting fire to the mangled pieces, Taha Aki lay by his wife's body, not leaving her side for one full day. After the day passed, he went into the forest, still in his wolf form, and never returned."
The finality of Old Quil's words left the group in a sad silence. Their ancestors sacrificed many things, faced complete extinction, yet somehow remained strong and thrived.
"After Taha Aki, only a few men turned into wolves throughout each generation, the threat of vampires almost nonexistent," the man in the wheelchair said, "with the exception of the golden-eyed coven your great-grandfathers made a treaty with." His eyes lingered on Bella, who shrank back with mild embarrassment.
"It was your ancestors' duty to protect their people," said Old Quil, "and now the responsibility lies with all of you."
After another moment of silence, the bonfire slowly roared back to life. Conversation and laughter continued as if it had never stopped. Zora heard Quil say something about loving his wolf abilities, but she had trouble focusing. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking of her mother and father. Which one gave her the wolf magic, she wondered. Did they ever hear stories of past relatives shifting? Had they ever seen it themselves? And most importantly, what would they think of her if they found out their daughter was also a giant wolf?
She chewed on her bottom lip. This life was so complicated and she hadn't even experienced it all yet. She turned her head to say something to Leah, but noticed she moved to sit next to her mom, Sue Clearwater. They spoke softly to one another, something about Leah's late father, Harry, and both smiled sadly. Zora realized it was the first time she'd seen Leah have a tender moment with someone other than herself. She then noticed almost everyone engaged in a one-on-one conversation, and trying to be inconspicuous, looked to the spot where Jacob and Bella were sitting. They disappeared, and she could feel a knot of envy tightening in her stomach. She shot out of her seat, torn between angrily searching for them and heading home to eat her emotions.
For all she knew, they could be making out in the darkness, surrounded by tall trees and bright, romantic stars. The knot twisted tighter, a dreaded tremble shaking her body. She could not turn here, not in front of all these people. It would be too humiliating. To calm herself, she tried to think of positive, non-Jacob things. She had no luck, however, and stomped toward the woods, ready to set the wolf free.
"You must be Zora Medina."
She stopped, matching the voice to the face. Without turning around, she knew it was the man in the wheelchair speaking to her. When she faced him, he was wearing that familiar, recognizable smile.
"That's me," she said through clenched teeth.
"He went to drop off Bella to Edward," the man smiled, and after no response from the frowning girl, continued with, "Isn't that why you were angrily staring at the spot where they sat…because they left?"
"How did you…" Zora trailed off, still frowning.
The man gave a hearty laugh. "I'm just an observant person. Also, I know that Jacob, my son, is your imprint."
Her eyes widened, her face suddenly feeling cold. So that's why I recognized his smile, she thought. It's the same one Jacob wears. A wave of embarrassment washed over her - here she was behaving so callously to Jacob's father, who spoke of her imprinting on his son as if he were speaking about the weather.
Billy could see the wheels turning in her head and noticed the reddish hue that painted her cheeks. Having raised two daughters, he knew how dangerous the mind of an overthinking teenage girl could be.
"Jacob told me about you," he said calmly. "All good things, of course."
Zora raised both of her eyebrows. She had a hard time believing he had anything "good" to say about her.
Billy saw the skepticism written across her face and thought it best to continue explaining. "It's true. He was…upset, at first, when it—when you happened, but he came around and talked to me about you." He noticed the tenseness she held herself with finally relaxed somewhat, and he smiled softly. "I'm sure this hasn't been an easy process for you. After Sam told me he gained a new pack member, a girl who was never on his radar, who then immediately imprinted…well, I was shocked. You got thrown into this world and didn't even know you were part of it."
Though his voice was gruff, he spoke so gently that Zora felt guilty for the coldness she first showed him. "It was unexpected, that's for sure," she said, half-smiling.
"From what I've heard, you're doing great dealing with the rest of those boneheads. I think you're quite special, Zora. There's something about you…I can't put my finger on it, but I can sense it."
And with that, he gave another grin and rolled himself over to Old Quil.
She was left feeling flustered and slightly flattered. She had never thought of herself as "special." But maybe he was right, maybe there was something different about her, something that made her stand out from the rest. Before she could think anything else, a large and loud yawn flew from her mouth, her lack of sleep finally catching up to her. She wanted to stay and hang out with the others, but the desire to rest was stronger than the desire to socialize. Without looking back, she threw her hand up in a lazy wave and continued walking towards the trees.
The night seemed darker now, but she had no trouble navigating thanks to her enhanced eyesight. She'd only been walking for five minutes when her ears picked up a noise. She heard footsteps approaching, still a few feet away. Her keen sense of smell recognized the scent and her heart almost flew into her throat. She used the darkness to her advantage and hid behind a large tree, only this time as the person came closer, she was unable to remain quiet. Her nose began to itch, and the urge to sneeze became inconveniently unbearable. Unable to contain it, she sneezed three times, each louder than the first.
The footsteps stopped right in front of her tree.
"Who's there?" Jacob called out.
Damn it, damn it, damn it. She'd have to reveal herself this time - there was no way around it.
"No one," she responded, "just an unfriendly, sneezing ghost." She was tempted to make eerie, moaning noises to make it more believable, but she knew her identity had already been discovered. Jacob knew it was her as soon as she sneezed.
"Does this unfriendly, sneezing ghost have a name?" he said playfully.
Zora sighed. "Alright, you caught me." She stepped out from behind the tree, her heart racing at the sight of his brilliant smile. She thought he'd still be wounded after being told off by her, yet there he was, grinning as if she'd never said a thing.
"What are you so happy about?" she questioned suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be upset that you had to drop Bella off to her bloodsucker like a child caught between feuding, divorced parents?"
He snorted. "Good one. A little harsh, but not as harsh as what you said earlier."
"I meant every word," she replied, a sharp edge in her voice.
"I know. That's why it hurt."
Good, she wanted to say. Served him right for all of the times he hurt her. They stared at each other, caught in an uncomfortable silence. Jacob had his hands in his pockets again, a habit of his Zora noticed whenever he was unsure of what to say. She was irked that he had no words when she could think of a few he could've spit out.
She sighed, her exhaustion exacerbating her irritation. "Jacob, what do you want?"
A simple question, but it felt so heavy to him. What did he want? An image of Bella flashed in his mind, her lips pulled into a small smile. For months, everything had been clear - Bella was the person who had his heart. She was intelligent and kind and in her lowest time, when she needed someone to support her, someone to care for her, he was there. He pulled her out of the darkness.
But as he stood before Zora with her heavy, tired eyes, tightly-crossed arms, and right foot tapping on the ground impatiently, the image in his mind became unfocused. The girl standing in front of him was brazen and outspoken and fiery; and as he stood there staring into her brown eyes, taking all of her in, wanting to brush the tip of his finger along the path of her damn adorable freckles, something in his chest stirred.
"I want…I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry…for the other night in the car," he stammered, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Is that all?" Zora said expectantly. "No 'I'm sorry for making you believe I wanted to kiss you, only to utter someone else's name and play with your feelings'?"
"You didn't let me finish. I am sorry for all of those things. I was an ass and I shouldn't have led you on."
Led her on? Was he implying that he didn't have feelings for her after all, even though his actions said otherwise? She squeezed her fists tightly, her nails digging into the skin of her palms. She was tired and confused and angry, and the only way her mind could think of to express those jumbled emotions was to cry.
"Are we done here?" she sniffled, her throat feeling tight and her vision blurred as she furiously wiped at the tears soaking her cheeks and chin.
Jacob watched her with a horrified expression. He was only trying to apologize, not make her burst into tears. He didn't know what he said that was wrong, but he desperately wanted to fix it. "No, I wanted to say something else—"
"There goes that word again," Zora interrupted, her voice rising. "Want. What is it that you want, Jacob? A friend, a body guard, someone to listen to all of your girl troubles?" She edged closer to him, her eyes narrowed. "You're my imprint, and I'm supposed to be whatever you need."
She was nearly shouting at him, her voice laced with sarcasm. The way she spoke, though, whether she was having a simple conversation or yelling at him, was full of an unwavering firmness that captivated him. Her words were always confident, and that was the Zora he came to know. Tenacious and strong-willed — he knew in that moment exactly what he wanted.
"I want to do this," he declared, and without any hesitation, closed the gap between them and cupped Zora's wet face. Then, he pressed his lips to hers.
Note (7/20/2020): The legends detailed in this chapter ARE NOT the true legends of the Quileute people. Stephanie Meyer twisted the actual traditional stories of the Quileute tribe to fit her racist, white-washed narrative, so I want to denounce her actions and encourage all of you to do some research (you can visit the Quileute Nation's website or the Burke Museum's page "Truth vs. Twilight") and read about the real legends, the stereotypes Meyer perpetuated about Indigenous people, and the lack of monetary compensation the Quileute tribe received despite being portrayed in the books and films.
