Four
The next morning, Paul woke up to a vaguely familiar beeping from the vicinity of his desk. He threw a pillow at it sleepily, and the beeps still came, but they were muffled.
It had been almost three in the morning when Paul had made it back to the rez after sitting outside his imprint's house for a couple more hours, not wanting to fall asleep in case she had another nightmare (she hadn't). Whatever time it was now, he was still exhausted.
He finally realized what the noise was – it was his bedside alarm clock, set to go off at six for school. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been home at this time to hear it. He usually ran the late night to early morning patrols, since his sole parent gave far fewer fucks than almost any of the other pack member's parents about him being gone in the middle of the night. Sam had given the evening patrol yesterday, though, probably trying to "ease" Paul into the fabulous imprinted lifestyle.
He rolled over and grabbed the clock from where it had fallen to the floor, turning it in his hands thoughtfully. Hardly anyone in the pack went to school anymore, except for Embry, whose mom would have flipped a shit fit to rival a rampaging bear if he'd dropped out.
Paul had never loved school, but he didn't hate it, either. He had nothing he had to do for the pack today; he could go to class, if he wanted.
And then what? the tiny voice in the back of his head asked. Stare at Zach and Tim and get butthurt if they don't try to talk to you, but yell at them if they do? Make your first and last appearance at school for the month? See how badly, exactly, you're failing every class?
Fuck no. Going to school would be worse than useless.
Pretending he didn't care at all, he pressed the clock's reset button, erasing all the alarms, and turned over to go back to sleep.
When Paul woke up a few hours later, it was to an uncommonly beautiful late morning, with a few rays of sunshine even able to find their way through the thick threes surrounding his house and onto his bedspread.
Even the view from his window couldn't cheer him up, though. As he had done so often since he first phased, he woke up pissed off and starving.
His dad was eating breakfast when Paul walked into the kitchen, meaning it wasn't as late as he'd thought. He almost walked right back out, but he was too hungry to wait for him to leave.
"Decided school wasn't for you, son?" his dad asked dryly as he took a bite of his cereal.
Paul almost retorted, "Decided work wasn't for you, Dad?" but decided it wasn't worth the argument. His dad had thrown his back out five years ago while working as an electrician, but he'd recovered, and he had prescription pain pills to cover any flare-ups. Instead of getting a job again, though, he pocketed the disability checks and spent most afternoons playing poker with a group of perpetually unemployed or retired tribe members at the senior center.
Paul privately thought his dad had been waiting all his life for an excuse to quit trying, and he'd finally found one.
He settled for grunting and shrugging, reaching for a package of lunch meat to make himself a sandwich. He shoved the sloppy pile of meat and cheese into his mouth as he sat down across from his dad. He'd never been much of a cook, but these days he didn't have the patience for much of anything at all.
Least of all, his imprint bond, which he could feel tugging in his chest again, an invisible line pulling directly to wherever his imprint was now, probably at school. She didn't have to drop out, after all. He wondered what classes she took, which ones were her favorites.
He abruptly shoved himself away from the table, making the milk in his dad's bowl slosh over. "Paul?"
"Don't worry about it," he muttered. The bond was turning him into such a pussy. Next you'll wonder what her favorite color is, if she likes chocolate or vanilla better. He could feel the shaking starting.
He left his father sitting at the table, bemused and walked into the woods, threw off his shorts, and phased.
Jared was the only other one in wolf form, patrolling the north end of their land. 'Sup, Paul?
I'll take patrol, Paul told him. Got nothing else to do. He certainly wasn't imagining showing up at his imprint's school like a retarded Tonto and following her around. Definitely not.
You sure? Jared asked, but he was already trying to figure out if he could get to the rez high school in time to sit with Kim at lunch.
Jared had never for a microsecond stopped to think that imprinting on Kim, who he had never even talked to before the day he'd imprinted, had been anything short of wonderful, with clouds parting and angelic choruses and all that shit. How he could possibly think that, Paul didn't know, and he didn't ask.
Go, Paul told him, and Jared went.
Paul began running, first an easy, loping pace, then faster until he was running full-out through the forest, his eyes judging the easiest path through the trees a second before his legs took him there. Not running headfirst into a tree took up all his mental energy, and for a time he allowed himself to be the wolf. Wolves didn't have shitty parents, or failing report cards, or imprints who could barely speak two words without looking like they wanted to throw up halfway through.
When he came back to himself, the sun was past its midday peak, and he felt some small measure of peace - not an emotion he was familiar with. It was a nice change, not thinking about anything at all for a while. Not thinking about her.
Then Jacob phased in, and it all dispersed like mist.
Hey, Jake said after a minute.
Paul didn't dignify him with a response.
You should go see her, Jacob said, offering up his completely inane advice like it was a gift. I can tell it's driving you crazy.
Seriously, dude, shut the fuck up. Paul clamped down on his thoughts, purposely thinking about how hungry he was instead. Maybe he could get Emily to feed him? She usually had food on hand for impromptu pack meetings…
Bella likes to cook, Jacob volunteered.
Paul almost changed direction and ran toward where he knew Baby Alpha was, along their eastern border. A fight might do him good and would definitely distract him for a while.
He was certainly not filing away this little nugget of information on his imprint like it was a precious secret.
Amusement snaked through from Jacob's end. Dude, you're kind of making up for how pissed I am that you imprinted on my girl.
She's not yours. Had that been him, or his wolf? Either way, it was simply the truth. She's mine. My imprint.
Really? Jacob said, sounding unperturbed. Kind of hard to tell, since you're not with her.
Don't feel like it, Paul lied, and then immediately wondered why he was even wasting his energy, when the truth was there in his mind for Jacob to clearly see. He wanted – he needed – to see his imprint, to smell her and know that she was safe and unharmed, even though it had barely been twelve hours since he'd last seen her.
That enraged him like nothing else could have.
I'm so fucking tired of not having any say over my own fucking life! he shouted, if you could shout in your head. He started running again, sprinting, just to have something to do with the furious energy that was coursing through him. First we turn into wolves, and now I'm stuck with her – the stupid, whiny leech lover? What the fuck?
For a moment, he thought Jacob had phased back to human, since there was nothing from the pack mind for long minutes. I hate that you get to have her, and you don't even want her, he said finally. I hate that I still want her to be happy, and she's not ever going to have any shot at that unless you're around.
Paul saw through Jacob's eyes as he lunged for a deer, his mouth snapping at the fleeing animal. Jacob never hunted in wolf form.
Most of all, Jacob said, leaping through the air and fastening his teeth around the deer's flank, pulling flesh away savagely, I hate that I can't even hate you for it.
Paul lasted another hour before he couldn't stand not being near his imprint for a minute longer. Jacob had phased out with the parting words of, Just go see her, dude, before you turn into an even bigger asshole than you already are.
Being around her was going to turn him into more of an asshole, though. Paul didn't understand how everyone else couldn't see that. If he annoyed them now, he could just imagine how much worse he'd be after having to spend time with Her Royal Sadness, who somehow managed to infuriate him more than anyone else on the planet could. They should be begging him to stay away from her.
This is stupid, this is stupid, he thought over and over as he ran toward his imprint.
He didn't stop, though.
He phased in the patch of woods outside her high school and slipped his shorts on, watching from the trees as students trickled out in threes and fours, laughing and shouting to each other as they got into their cars.
Even if he hadn't been able to feel her, he would have noticed her immediately. Her head was ducked down, her arms wrapped tight around her sides as she walked slowly toward the parking lot, alone.
When she was about half the length of the lot from him, her shoulders tensed up. She stared directly at him, and even from the distance her eyes looked dull and lifeless.
He met her at her truck, aware of the other students who stilled to watch him. He was shirtless, barefoot and decidedly not white, after all.
"Paul?" she said as she walked up to him. "What are you doing here?" He was stupidly pleased that she didn't look annoyed that he was there, just surprised.
He wanted to touch her, run his hands through her hair. He wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and put his scent on her, so that everyone would know she was his.
That was so dumb that he almost couldn't believe he'd thought it, except for all the other crazy shit that was his life.
He shoved his hands in his pockets just to make sure they wouldn't sneak off on their own and reach for her outside his conscious control.
I wanted to see you, was what he wanted to say but couldn't. I needed to make sure you were okay.
Instead he said, "Just wanted to see if you were going to be home this evening so I could stay outside your house like I did last night." That was a stupid lie, and it didn't even make sense – he could have found her wherever on the planet she went - but she didn't call him on it.
She frowned. "Is it…Tuesday?" He nodded, slightly worried that she'd managed to make it through the whole day without knowing that. "Then I have to work today. Till six. But after that I'll be home."
"Okay," he said, memorizing her face. She looked tired, but he was starting to suspect that she always looked tired. He could tell her backpack was too heavy for her, and before he realized what he was doing he was reaching out to tug it off of her shoulders, tossing it into the passenger seat. "I'll come over after that. I'll be in the woods unless you…need me."
"Okay," she echoed, her eyes darting to his as if she wanted to say something else, but she just looked away and climbed up into the driver's seat. Her foot slipped on the footrest, which was wet from condensation, but she straightened herself quickly, and he tried to look like he hadn't been about to lunge for her. "I guess I'll see you then, maybe," she said awkwardly and started the engine.
He nodded once and walked back the way he had come. Back in his wolf form, he felt much calmer than he had all day.
A few minutes later, Jacob phased back in. Oh, thank Christ, he said with relief.
Shut up, Paul returned immediately, but this time, there was no malice in it.
After patrol, Paul returned to the patch of woods closest to his imprint's house, preparing for a long watch as he had done last night. He could hear her moving around downstairs, opening drawers and running water. Making dinner, maybe?
Only a few minutes later, though, he could tell something was wrong. The tugging in his chest hadn't gotten any better, and it was causing him physical discomfort now.
I'm less than fifty feet from her! he thought, irritated.
Need to be closer, his wolf said urgently.
Um, how about no. He bit down on an involuntary whimper as the tugging increased.
Suddenly, the back door sprang open, and his imprint stood in the doorway, her eyes scanning the woods until they stopped directly where he was, though he doubted she could see him. Her arms were wrapped around her chest. "Paul?" she called out urgently.
Before he registered hearing his name, he was in front of her, scenting the air worriedly for any sign of danger. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
"Oh," she said in surprise, staring down at him. To his shock, she reached out to touch his head.
Her touch warmed his whole body down to his toes.
She jerked her hand away like she'd touched a hot pan, and he wondered if she'd felt something similar. "You're fast," she said weakly.
He took a few steps backward to make sure he was out of her way and phased human. "The fastest," he told her smugly, grabbing the shorts he'd tied around his ankle and pulling them on.
When he looked up again, she was bright red. "You've got to stop doing that," she muttered.
He shrugged. "You'll get used to it. What's wrong?"
"I-" She stopped, looking surprised. "Nothing, now. I just…it hurt. The…bond, I guess."
"Well, I'm here," he said gruffly. He wondered if it would start hurting if he left again right now. Not that he would do that to her (that he could), but he'd thought that being in her vicinity would be enough to "trick" the imprint bond. He had the sinking feeling that he'd been wrong, that the bond was slowly roping him in, drawing him tighter and tighter to his imprint.
She nodded, her face going blank again. He knew zombie mode would kick in if he didn't keep her talking. For some reason, he really, really didn't want that to happen.
"How was work?" he asked lamely.
She grimaced. "It was work. Busy. I don't like talking to the customers, but at least it makes the time go by faster."
The scent of garlic and tomatoes was coming from the direction of the kitchen. He'd only had time to grab a couple burgers from Emily's house before he'd had to leave for patrol, and he was still hungry. His stomach growled, making her jump.
She looked from him to her still open doorway, her brow furrowed. "Have you eaten? You could… my dad's working the night shift all week. I just started on dinner."
His pride warred with both his hunger and his desire to be as close to his imprint as possible, and pride lost. "Yeah," he said, motioning her to go ahead of him. "Okay."
Her cooking was fucking amazing.
Ever since Paul had started growing abnormally fast as his body prepared to make its big debut into wolfdom, he'd been hungry all the time, and it had never, ever stopped.
He wouldn't be able to hold down a job to afford more food until his around-the-clock patrols ended, and he tried not to eat his dad out of house and home since the disability checks only went so far, plus his dad's indifference might have actually escalated into something resembling concern if he regularly saw his son putting away four thousand plus calories a day.
His imprint pulled the pan of lasagna she'd made out of the oven and made a plate for her dad, which she set in the refrigerator, and a took small slice for herself. Wordlessly, she set what remained in the pan down in front of Paul.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you sure this is enough?" he said sarcastically.
"You're hungry," she said, frowning. He wondered if that was just a guess or if she could feel him in a similar way to how he felt her. "Really hungry. Eat."
He picked up his fork and obeyed. It was the best meal he'd ever had.
As he rose to put his dishes in the dishwasher, he realized that he was completely full. He couldn't remember ever feeling like he'd gotten enough to eat since before he'd phased the first time. It was a homey, secure, comfortable feeling.
As he walked over to where his imprint was sitting at the bar, he realized she was just picking at her meal, scooping pieces up with her fork, turning them over, and setting them back down. "You're not eating."
"I am," she said weakly, but she was lying.
He shook his head, annoyed but not as pissed off as he would have been on an empty stomach. "Don't try that shit on me. That might work on other people, but we talked about this yesterday - I know what you need, and right now what you need is to eat. You've been starving yourself for too long."
She glared down at her plate, but he stayed beside her chair, just looking at her. She finally ate a tiny bite, swallowing pointedly. She picked up another piece, looking surprised, and ate it much more quickly.
"See?" he said. "Fucking delicious, right?" The corner of her mouth lifted in the tiniest semblance of a smile."I told you, I know-" A loud howl pierced the night air, and she dropped her fork.
Paul sprinted toward the back door. He recognized Sam's cry. It was close, which meant Sam had come to where he knew Paul would be for a reason.
Another howl entwined with Sam's – Jared. Paul suspected they were all out there, waiting for him to join them.
His imprint had moved to stand beside him in the doorway. "Is that the pack?" she asked.
Paul nodded sharply. "Stay inside until I come back," he told her. "Don't leave the house, I'm serious."
Her eyes widened. "Why?" she called after him, but he was already running into the woods, phasing as soon as he was in the trees.
Remorse slammed into him once he phased and began running to where he knew Sam was waiting.
Sorrysorrysorry, came Quil's voice.
Paul caught a glimpse of Quil's memory of himself sleeping. Sleeping through his assigned patrol probably, the idiot.
The leech made it onto our land, Sam said, and a bolt of outrage shot through Paul. Just the thought of their unnaturalness on tribal land made his heart beat faster, his lips curling back as he imagined sinking his teeth into leech flesh and ripping.
He burst through a grove of trees and saw Sam and Jared's wolves. They began running back in the direction of the rez as soon as he drew close.
She's looking for something, Jacob said. He was guarding a tight perimeter around the residential portion of La Push, pausing to scent the air every hundred feet or so. She got really close to my house for some reason.
What the fuck does she want? Paul said, though he wasn't expecting an answer. They had all asked that question multiple times over the past month or so since they'd first scented her near the rez.
Sam sent back his confusion, his frustration. If we can get upwind of her, we might have a chance to catch her unaware. I'll have you chase her, Paul, since you're the best sprinter, and the rest of us will try to corral her from either side so that you can have a chance to catch up to her.
I can try, he said doubtfully. But she's fucking fast, Sam. I'm not making any promises.
I know, Sam said. Just do your best.
As it turned out, though, it didn't matter.
Gone, Embry said in disgust a few hours later as he finished the widest circuit of the ever-widening perimeter that Sam had assigned them to run. That was fifty miles, Sam. Nothing.
Fuck, Sam said, followed by a tense silence in the pack. Though the Alpha's thoughts were mostly hidden unless he intentionally shared them, Paul knew he was thinking furiously, generating and discarding plans in seconds.
We're gonna have to patrol two at a time from now on, he said finally.
A chorus of dismay rose from them all. There were only six of them, and that meant their daily four hour shifts had just turned into eight hour shifts.
Do you want to have to tell someone that you let their parent or their sibling or their child die because you didn't feel like doing your duty? Sam asked fiercely, and the complaining stopped. We'll get the leech, and then we can go back to single shifts. That's the way it has to be, with just the six of us.
Seth Clearwater is shooting up like a weed, Jared said thoughtfully. I saw him last week and he looks at least two or three years older than he is.
Everyone politely pretended they didn't notice the flare of pain that shot through Sam at the mention of Leah Clearwater's younger brother. This leech is going to trigger the phase in him, even though the Cullens are gone, he said heavily. That alone is reason enough to get rid of her as quickly as possible.
There wasn't much to say after that.
Paul volunteered to take the night shift with Sam, since his dad still wasn't any closer to noticing when his son was home or not. As the rest of the pack phased back to human, he and Sam set off to cover opposite ends of the tribe's boundary and work their way toward the middle.
Paul couldn't help thinking of his imprint, how he likely wouldn't get a chance to see her for another day at least, and how he already hurt from being apart from her (and what was she doing, would she be worried, would she eat enough tomorrow), how he would have to figure out how he was going to have time to protect his imprint, fulfill his duty to the pack, and maybe, occasionally, eat and sleep. It was still better than the alternative, though – letting the leech live.
He might be a dick, but even he wasn't selfish enough to wish this life on anyone else.
Thank you for all your sweet comments! I'm enjoying writing Paul. Much more Paul/Bella interaction in the next chapter.