AN:

I know - it's odd that I'm placing an author's note at the beginning of the chapter instead of the end, but I figured you're more likely to read it at the beginning. Just a head's up that it will be long! And super important.

First, happy holidays, my lovely readers! I am sorry it took me so long to update. I intended to post another chapter weeks ago, but I was busy with an online class, writing a final paper, and taking the actual final that I couldn't spare a moment to update. I was also traveling with my mom from Dec. 20-25, and we actually visited Port Angeles, Forks, and some of the beaches in La Push. The Pacific Northwest is a beautiful, magical place, and I urge everyone to go if you ever get the opportunity. I especially loved Olympic National Park. The trees and the mountains are breathtaking.

Second, happy birthday to this story! I posted it on a whim Dec. 3 of last year, and I honestly didn't think people would be interested in reading it. Mostly, I posted it for myself and wanted to hold myself accountable to actually finish a fanfic. I'm happy that some of you have stuck with me for so long. Your continued support definitely makes a difference.

And third, I've been doing a lot of thinking about this story and the Indigenous characters of Stephanie Meyer's Twilight saga. She did a tragic disservice to the Quileute people and their legends, using their creation story—which does actually include the transformation of wolves into people—as a plot device. The Quileute legends have no mention of "Cold Ones," no "Spirit Wolves" or "Taha Aki," and their transformation from human to wolf was not dependent upon the presence of (white) vampires. Meyer created a false, white-washed narrative about the Indigenous people of the Quileute tribe when she could have used their inclusion in her story to educate people about Quileute history and culture. Even worse, they never received any compensation for their unwilling inclusion in Meyer's books and the movies. What good is representation when it's not even an accurate portrayal? It is sad and infuriating that this happens to many, if not all, marginalized groups in the United States, but especially so for Indigenous Americans.

I was around thirteen or fourteen when I first read Twilight, and being so young, I wasn't aware of any of the harm being done to the real Indigenous Americans of the Quileute tribe. But now that I'm older, I can educate myself about the historically cruel treatment of Indigenous people in the U.S. at the hands of white Europeans (and their descendants in the present), and how this cruel treatment is perpetuated in fiction (via stereotypes, minimization, and misrepresentation).

Continuing to write this story feels like I am contributing to Meyer's white-washed narrative, and as a non-white person who wants to be an ally to all oppressed people of color, it feels wrong to keep going. However, I've decided that I'll see this story through, but on multiple conditions. I urge any of you reading this to please, please, please conduct your own research on the misrepresentation of the Quileute nation in the Twilight series. Please read about their actual legends. Please read about what it means to "white wash" an oppressed people's history, culture, and experience. Please read about settler colonialism and how it has affected Indigenous Americans centuries after the first "settlers"—aka colonizers—set foot in North America. Please seek out works by actual Indigenous Americans. Please read about how Meyer used her privilege to capitalize off of the lives of a people whose land, livelihood, and human rights were stripped from them. She is only one of many white authors, artists, and filmmakers to do so.

The least that all of us can do is be aware of the multitude of issues Indigenous Americans face.


CHAPTER TWENTY

A piercing screech filled the night air as Zora tore an arm from the vampire's body. He bellowed in pain, stumbling backwards, watching with hate-filled eyes as she flung the limb among the darkness of the trees.

She thought she'd lost him, his scent nearly disappearing in a forest unknown to her. She felt a rush of emotions—fright, panic, regret. What had been the point in following after him if she couldn't find him? For a moment, she was defeated, each passing second allowing him to move further away from her. She would have to turn around and pathetically head home, face the wrath of Sam, her pack mates, and her mom. Or worse, the vampire would find her.

And then, by some sort of sheer luck, she'd caught a whiff of his sickeningly sweet stench, a gentle breeze carrying it to her. The scent was strong, potent, and she realized she was close to him after all. She followed in the direction of where the wind blew, spotting his tracks on the ground as the odor became stronger and more nauseating.

The crafty bastard must've laid a false trail, she thought, partially humored and wholly annoyed that he tried to outwit her.

His effort was in vain, however, because she found him. His back was turned, his body crouched over a squirming deer. He seemed to be staring intently at it, but hadn't sunken his teeth into the animal's flesh. He's probably hesitant. From what she'd been told, animal blood tasted nothing like human blood, and seeing as there were no humans in the vicinity, he must have been desperate. His thirst must have been so intense that he was willing to consume an animal, so controlled by the burning in his throat that he didn't notice Zora edge closer to him.

He hasn't fed in hours, so he'll be weak. I'll kill him easily.

The deer was still struggling in his grip, and the moment the bloodsucker made up his mind, dipping his head to take a bite, she lunged. A large, sharp claw dug into his back, tearing through his shirt and marble flesh. A roar of anger left him as he whipped around, the deer springing up and leaping away from them. As his body turned, he'd lifted his right arm in an attempt to strike her. She was prepared for his attack, catching the limb in her mouth and ripping it from his shoulder socket.

Now, they stood glowering at each other, both wracked with fury and hunger and an eagerness to end one another once and for all.

"If you didn't smell so disgusting, I'd be draining you of all your blood right now."

His voice was smooth and alluring, the polar opposite of what she expected from a vampire with pitch black eyes and a terrifying scowl on his face. He was clutching at his shoulder, his fingers coated with a mysterious liquid. Zora almost retched. Is he leaking…venom?

"I know you're not some giant, brainless animal – even though you look like one. You and the others still have some humanity left in you. I saw it when I crushed that brown wolf. He turned into a broken, fragile boy."

She stiffened, a low growl exiting her muzzle. The memory was fresh and painful, the smirk that spread across his face after he hurt Jacob fueling her chase. He's taunting you, she told herself. Don't let him get to you.

He wore a crazed smile. "Once we're done here, I think I'll head back and finish what I started."

On second thought, fuck it.

She launched herself at him, and he ran for her at the same moment, the two meeting in a head-on collision. She snapped her large, sharp teeth, attempting to tear another chunk from his upper body, but he struck first, his hand colliding with her chest in a back-handed blow. The impact sent her flying backwards, her tumbling lasting less than a second as she landed on all fours.

She could feel her collarbone repositioning itself and swore; the pain was dull, but it didn't last. She was more concerned about the bloodsucker's strength. Even with eyes black as coal and a throat drier than a drought-ridden desert, a small hit sent her through the air. Goddamn newborns, she huffed. Be more cautious, Zora. There's no one here to back you up. It's all on you.

She breathed deeply and focused, her eyes trained on the glaring vampire in front of her. He lazily beckoned her forward, his pointer finger waving in a slow, bored motion. She sprinted at him again, focusing her gaze on his legs. He readied for her attack, preparing himself to jump and avoid her hit when she leapt over him at the last second, strong jaws locking around his arm-less shoulder. She bit down and took another chunk of cold, hard flesh.

He was shrieking again, an ear-splitting cry of anger and pain disrupting the tranquility of the forest. He watched as she spit part of his shoulder from her mouth, her lips pulling back into a sneer as she growled. She made a motion with her head to call him forward, and he realized with frightening clarity that she could kill him. Riley hadn't prepared him or the others for a fight against unnaturally powerful animals, and he certainly hadn't prepared him to be chased to the ends of the earth by a wolf with a vendetta.

Everything had been for naught—the training and the hunt for the human girl. His friends, if they could even be referred to as such, were dead. Riley was dead.

And he would be next.

He ran, disregarding his missing arm and shoulder as he raced into the cover of tall evergreens.

Really? Zora thought in irritation, sighing as she followed after him. What a coward. Her paws thudded heavily against the ground, her body a dark blur as she moved with speed and agility. At this point, all she had to do was tear into him a few more times. And then, it dawned on her — what the hell am I supposed to set his body on fire with? She howled in frustration, still running after the leech but losing sight of his maimed back.

Shit! How could I forget something so important? What am I supposed to do, start a fire with sticks? Actually…yeah, that could work. I'll find some sticks and rub them together really, really fast and the friction will make them catch...flame...? Ugh, I hope this works. I hope—

Her train of thought cut off when she realized she'd lost the vampire.

Again.

She pressed her nose into the moss-covered ground, his scent nowhere to be found. She howled, the noise loud and distressed. You've got to be fucking kidding me! He got away – again! Think, Zora. She paced back and forth nervously. Last time, he led me on a false trail, but he's injured now. He's got to be hiding…but where? She looked up immediately, eyes focusing on the swaying tree tops. He could up there, watching and calculating his next move. She decided she would climb that damn tree and drag him down by his neck. She stepped back a few paces, readying to jump onto a thick branch with a running start. Then a flash of white moved in her peripheral vision, and though her reflexes were quick, she hadn't moved fast enough to avoid a powerful kick to her side.

"You're not the only one who can play tricks," the vampire hissed, eyeing her with satisfaction as her body landed against the trunk of a tree.

A searing pain spread throughout the left side of her ribs, her desperate gasping for air alerting her that the bones were broken. She suspected that something had stuck into her back, her fur feeling wet and the smell of blood wafting around her. Whatever it was, it didn't hurt as much as a broken rib cage. She tried moving to an upright position, but her legs buckled beneath her.

The vampire stalked towards her slowly, enjoying her struggle as she tried to stand. He laughed, the empty noise reverberating through the darkness. "When you and the other mongrels jumped out of hiding, I'll admit that I was scared. I was created to hunt down a human…I was promised her blood"—he paused, the memory of Bella's scent intensifying the ache in his throat—"It was supposed to be easy, but you showed up and destroyed everything." He stood in front her now, delivering another swift kick to her hurting body.

It was Zora's turn to shriek, the noise sounding like a strangled whimper as she writhed in pain. Her healing bones snapped in half again. She stared up at him with as much malice as she could conjure, her eyes never leaving his as he crouched down to her level.

"I'm not sure why I was so terrified of you. You're nothing more than an overgrown puppy. And look at you now – incapacitated and subjected to my will."

His face was so close that his cold, sweet breath fanned across the bridge of her nose. I could end him how, she thought, convincing herself not to vomit. I could rip—

Another howl flew from her throat, guttural and agonized and reminiscent of a human scream. The vampire's good hand clamped down on one of her front legs, gripping so tight that the whole bone felt as if it shattered.

"An arm for an arm, right?"

He was grinning, his soft chuckle drowned out by her laborious efforts to breathe. The slightest intake of breath magnified every twinge of pain.

She once had the upper hand, but now, their roles were reversed. He's going to kill me, she thought. And then, she finally felt it — fear. She hadn't been afraid to abandon her pack and chase after the bloodsucker. She hadn't even been afraid when she momentarily lost him. But she felt fear now, fresh and real and goddamn debilitating. Her heart pounded against her chest, her vision clouding with tears. She was going to die, and it wasn't going to be some noble, glorious, heroic ending. She was going to die in a forest foreign to her, alone and in the dark and failing to exact the vengeance that brought her there.

She was suddenly angry with herself, angry about the loneliness and despair her absence would force upon her mother and her best friends. And angry that she would never see Jacob again. The heat of his gaze, the laughter in his voice, the brightness of his smile — all would be lost to her. He could live without her, but watching the leech almost end his life made her realize that she couldn't live without him. He was her imprint, the sun she orbited, and she refused to live in a world where he didn't exist.

She would put her life on the line to save him.

Only, he didn't need saving. She knew he was alive, could sense it despite their distance. He was safe and she was a fool for putting herself in harm's way; a fool who wanted to prove her unyielding dedication; a fool who secretly hoped her disappearance would cause him to wake the fuck up and see her; a fool in love.

It would've been so easy for her to give up. Any remnants of strength were quickly waning, and the injuries she sustained hurt so terribly that she didn't want to move. She could've laid there and accepted her fate, closed her eyes and welcomed an eternity of silence.

The vampire's fingers had found her shoulder, squeezing with enough force to her break the bone, but not hard enough to break it quickly. The demented look on his face was one of pure enjoyment, and she reasoned that he intended to kill her slowly, torturing her to the very end. She was howling again, another desperate cry echoing around them, and she thought of never-ending peace. It grew more inviting, calling her to give in, opening its arms wide to embrace her. So easy…

But she was Zora Medina, and she would never quit. She was a fighter and would remain as such until she took her last breath.

The vampire's face still hovered in front of hers, fingers digging into her fur-covered flesh, the crook of his neck pale and exposed. This was her only chance. She moved without hesitation, pushing her aching body forward to tear into him. She was fast — faster than either of them expected. The vampire was so caught off guard that he fell onto his back, Zora still attached to him. She bit with all of her strength, his terror-filled screams music to the ears of her wolf. His pain further drove her desire to kill as she pinned him to the ground, her good arm and leg holding him as her nails dug into his skin. This is it, she told herself, his hard flesh cracking. With a final, violent jerking, she separated his head from his body.

Zora discarded it haphazardly, adrenaline still pumping as she ripped away the rest of his limbs. She was an animal in the wild, ravenously tearing piece after piece from her prey. And when she was done, he was nothing more than a scattered pile of a mangled body. She gazed at her victory, barking with hysterical, exhausted laughter when she thought of the bloodsucker putting himself back together like a puzzle. The sliver of energy she had left finally faded and she felt herself collapsing, still laughing as she hit the ground.

Should've brought a damn lighter, she thought sleepily, her eyes closing as she slipped away.


(Revised 4/12/2021)