Two
Paul ran east.
As a wolf, he knew directions instinctively, in the sense that he always knew where the sun rose and where it set, and from there north and south were easy calculations.
Now, he had a bonus direction: where his imprint was. Getting farther and farther away, his wolf said in distress.
But Paul was not just the wolf, and Paul the human wanted nothing to do with this girl. So he kept running, concentrating on the smell of evergreens in the wet spring air, the way the ground felt, damp and deep under his paws, and he most certainly did not think about the fucking nightmare he had just walked into.
It was half an hour before he felt Sam phase in and Paul knew when Sam felt the truth in his mind.
Fuck, came his voice, then long silence.
Paul ignored him, letting his powerful hindquarters push him forward, the forest floor a dark blur under his paws.
Paul, Sam started finally, but Paul didn't slow.
Suddenly, Jared was there. Paul, man, what hap-
Out, Jared, Sam's voice interrupted, the force of the Alpha behind it. And keep the others out, too, until I say otherwise.
Jared abruptly faded from his awareness, leaving him and Sam in that inexplicable mind meld that was the shared wolf mind.
Leave me alone, Sam, he thought, without any expectation that his Alpha actually would.
This isn't going to go away, Paul, Sam replied finally.
I know, he said. But I can.
Even if I thought you could stay away forever, I can't let you. Not with the redhead still out there. I need you here, with your brothers.
They're not my brothers, Paul found himself thinking sullenly, like a little kid whining about his step-siblings. He wished he could take it back, but the words were already there, lingering.
They are in all the ways that matter. Somehow, Sam managed to convey a sigh. Look, if you need to run, run. I don't blame you. I did. Paul got a flash of claws raking across a shocked female face combined with dawning horror, before Sam managed to shut it down. But be back on the rez within two days. That's an order.
Aye, aye, Cap'n, Paul replied bitterly, and Sam phased out.
The miles fell away behind Paul as he kept up his punishing pace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone for so long within the wolf mind. Sam must be keeping them out. He surely wouldn't get much longer, though; Sam wouldn't like them to be without their supernatural abilities with the redheaded leech around.
Against his will, his thoughts kept returning to the brown-eyed leech lover. She wasn't even Native, much less Quileute. Why the fuck would he have imprinted on her? It made no sense. He made no sense.
Need to be near her, need to protect her, the wolf chanted. It was louder this time, more urgent.
You can fuck right off, Paul thought at it fiercely. The urge didn't go away, though, through the long hours of deep night and into the next morning.
The first person to phase back in was the second-to-last person Paul wanted to talk to on the entire planet, his imprint being the very last.
I know you didn't do it on purpose, Baby Alpha said in a surprisingly reasonable tone. Paul ignored the slightly less polite image of him with his throat torn out that seeped through from Jacob's side. Jesus, I know that. But goddamn it, Paul, if you weren't my brother I'd hunt your ass down if I had to chase you across the entire fucking country to do it.
There was that word again. Brother.
She's never gonna want you like that, Jacob said, seeming slightly calmer. Never. She told me that fucking leech broke her, and I thought it was just something she was saying because she was sad, but it's been six months and she's still half-dead. I think maybe she's serious.
Paul saw Jacob's thoughts flash to Bella, something desperate in her eyes as she stared up at him. "If I could love anyone again, it would be you, Jake, I swear to god. But I can't."
That's what she gets for loving a fucking leech, Paul retorted, refusing to let himself be moved by the raw pain he had seen in the girl's eyes.
It was dumb, Jake agreed. But she didn't know what he was at first, and they're… appealing to humans. That's how they're designed. And even though that asshole didn't love her back, she really did love him.
Well, she can keep on loving him. Or you. Or no one. I don't give a shit.
Jacob snorted. Yeah, that's totally how this is gonna work, Paul. We don't get a damn choice about turning into wolves, and you somehow think you're gonna have any choice about this? Paul could feel Jake's grimace. No, you're gonna come back, and it's gonna be for her. And it's gonna be sooner rather than later.
Oh, go fuck yourself, Paul said, disgusted. I'm not with her now, am I? No reason I ever even have to see her pasty white face again.
Yeah, right, Jacob said, before phasing out.
Yeah, right, echoed Paul's wolf.
Paul shook his head and kept running.
That evening, Paul felt his steps slowing down, his huge paws hitting the earth more slowly. Can't go much farther than this, his wolf said. Gotta be back by this time tomorrow. The Alpha order already weighed on him, urging him to turn back.
But back to what? To a pack of half-grown boys he knew way more about than he ever wanted, thanks to their perpetual Vulcan mind meld?
Back to her?
Jesus Christ, no.
Yes, his wolf said happily. Back to our mate.
She's not our fucking mate, he told it. She's a whiny, self-centered little girl who makes terrible life choices.
Mate, his wolf said blithely. Imprint. Ours.
Paul made it to Forks before sundown. He was starving, having only managed to take down a couple of wild rabbits on his way back. What he wanted to do was get to the rez, where he was pretty sure he still had some leftover casserole that Emily had baked a few days before.
Instead, he found himself standing outside a narrow two-story house he'd never seen before, hiding in the shadows of the back woods. He was absolutely certain that his imprint was inside that house.
If he could have punched himself in the face in wolf form, he would have.
Instead, he leaped forward and began running toward La Push, trying futilely to pretend he didn't feel much better than he had in two days being close to the girl.
When Paul walked into his house, his dad was spread out on the couch, a Mariners game blaring on the television. Rainier bottles were arranged clumsily on the floor beneath his head. It was a slow-drunk night, then, which meant his father would probably be a talker.
Paul ignored him and walked into their tiny kitchen to pull out the casserole. He didn't bother to plate it, just shoved the whole pan into the microwave.
"If I were a better father, I'd beat your ass," his dad mumbled to the TV.
Paul frowned, stepping into the living room. "What?"
His father blinked up at him blearily. "School called this afternoon. Said you'd been skipping so much you're about to fail out. What the hell, kid?"
"Oh." Paul shrugged, fighting down his frustration. He hated that he had to become a high school dropout, hated that he couldn't explain to his dad that he wasn't a complete fuck-up.
(Of course, the leech-lover got to know. She got exceptions.)
"Paul," his dad said, struggling to sit up. Paul grabbed his shoulder and helped him upright. "Paul. You know this is no good. You're a smart kid. You need to get off the rez and make something of your life."
"Yeah, Dad," Paul said. He'd heard this a dozen times before. "But I can't. I've got to be a protector of the tribe."
His dad rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and that's what the elders say, too. But it's bullshit. There's nothing we need protecting from." If only he knew. He leaned forward to peer at Paul, almost falling off the couch in the process. "And even if we did, it shouldn't be teenage boys who haven't had a chance to live yet."
"I know, Dad. Come on, let's get you to bed." Paul hauled his dad's arm around his shoulder and begin leading him down the hall.
"Shouldn't have brought you back to the rez," his dad mumbled. "'S meant to just be for a little while, till I… your mom…"
"Yeah, Dad," he said again, helping his father lie down fully on the bed and switching off the light. "I know."
Sitting down to eat his dinner, Paul tasted nothing. He tried not to think of how his werewolf genes would never have been triggered, and he never would have imprinted on the leech girl, if his dad had never had a nervous breakdown and brought him back to La Push.
He tried not to hate his dad for it.
He wasn't sure he succeeded.