A/N: A massive thank you to my BETA, BlazingBrown, for their wonderful help!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters, Stephenie Meyer does. However, I do own Black Sun and any OCs I create.

Erick Wilder sat behind a heavy oak desk, feet resting on the edge, an investigation folder scattered across his desk, and an arm thrown over his eyes. His breathing was irritated, heavy sighs falling from his mouth as he tried to control his frustration. Nothing. Fucking nothing had been found about the club owners' deaths. They were just dead, fucking dead after amazing sex and a toxin induced into their systems. He let out an angry growl, feet stomping the floor as he slipped them off his desk.

"Son of a bitch." He murmured. His dark chocolate skin felt like it was on fire, sweating heavily due to the intense heat in the police department. Seattle's finest, yeah, fucking broke finest. The fans above his head were working on overdrive, but even that didn't dissuade the heat. The smell of alcohol and vomit filled his nose, drifting over from the drunks and other miscreants lined up against the tank on the other side of the department. He ran a hand over his buzz cut scalp, the rough hair itching at his fingers. He shifted in his chair, taking a sly smell at himself. Shit, he needed a shower, bad. Damn, it was going to be a long day.

His partner, Hank Richerts, sat across from him, a blonde eyebrow lifted in expensive curiosity. Right, pretty boy, how does it feel to be on the cheap side? Rich ass prick. The fucker wasn't even sweating. Hank's pricy buttoned shirt rolled at the sleeves, his three hundred something pants perfectly creased, and that God damned blond hair had Erick's teeth on respected the man, of course he did. Money didn't get you through basic and it sure as hell didn't give you the position of detective. You had to be crazy to want that job.

He wasn't though. Crazy, that is. Fuck, Erick was as sane as they came. Just shy of burning rage and an alcoholic swearing asshole, but he wasn't crazy. Though Erick was beginning to feel as though he were, thanks to the fucking case. Two dead, both in their late twenties; the men were healthy and did not participate in any toxic activities. Besides amazing fucking sex. Jesus, who keeled over from sex? Geezers, fucking geezers. The real mystery was the toxin found in the men's blood. The substance was natural, organic, and nothing chemical in the product at all. He shifted a hand over his green tinted brown eyes, his broad shoulders shifting to accommodate his massive frame. His chair squeaked as he moved, the old leather turning to dust under Erick's ass.

"Lab come back with anything?" He bit out to his partner, short and curt. Erick wasn't much for conversation. If anything, he tried to ignore it on a regular basis. Yet, he chose a job where conversation was required. No one ever said Erick was the brightest of bulbs, at least, his mother didn't.

"Nothing."

Erick growled, wanting to throw the case file in the trash and burn it with a fucking blow torch. Smart, because a lighter is too god damned easy. "Not even on the clothes?"

"Nope." Pop.

He glared at the offensive piece of gum his partner chewed, the filthy mongrel. The fucker did this because he knew Erick hated people who popped their gum, and Hank did everything he could to yank the chain on Erick's peeves. He stood up, brushing imaginary dust off the dark washed jeans that seemed to coat him like butter. A black polo stretched across his chest, accenting thick arms licked with muscles, and beat up work boots completed the appearance of violent asshole.

"Headed out?" Hank asked while he blew a bubble and popped the offensive gum. The sound seemed to rip across Erick's senses, sending him spiraling further into intense anger.

"Will you fucking quit it?"

Pop. "Quit what?" ...Pop.

Erick mumbled under his breath, something unintelligible, but Hank picked out phrases like 'fuck face' or 'run over' and even 'where's my fucking gun." He laughed quietly, irritating his partner filled Hank's days with endless fun. Every day was another game, figuring out Erick's ticks brought out the sadist in Hank. Not that Erick was a masochist, but the man seemed to live off of suffering and pain. Fucking romance novel. Hank had, in fact, heard some interesting information from the Lab, but the look on Erick's face was priceless when he'd told the man the tests were negative. Fucking phenomenal.

Pop.

"Give me my gun. Someone give me a mother fucking gun!" Erick whirled around, striding across the room like an angry tornado, boots stomping, the smell of cloves and sweat following behind him. Women swooned as he walked past, their gazes locked on his abs and scorching over his firm buttocks. Hank laughed, the sound quiet, but the malicious glee very apparent. He would never tire of this. Standing up, he followed after his partner, nodding to the men in uniform who seemed to know exactly what kind of game Hank was playing. The women sneered at him over their white, police issued coffee mugs. Their dislike of him had grown in recent weeks. Then again, Hank's abuse of Erick had grown as well. Funny.

"You mother fucker!" Erick growled fifteen minutes later, toxicology report in his hand, and Hank was surprised the man didn't have a gun in the other. His face was murderous, one look at Erick and everyone knew to stay away. A wild rampaging man was not always the safest person in the room. "Honest to God, man, your fucking jokes are going to lead to your murder."

Pop.

"You-," Erick shook his head, trying to put away the irritation that simple noise sent through him. It didn't seem to be working, simply because the need to cut out his partners tongue was burning a hole in his brain. "To the point, even though I know you already heard, DNA was found on the clothing we recovered." He slapped the report down on the table, a loud sound in the buzzing room, drawing unneeded attention.

"Really?" Hank asked.

"You son of a bitch, will you get your head out of your thirty million ass and listen for once?"

"Only thirty million?"

Erick let out a rough breath, the air pulsing out through his nose as a look of rage coated his face. Hank loved this, watching Erick's face distort in rage gave him an adrenaline rush. Maybe sadistic was too easy a word for him. "What did the lab find?"

Erick gave him a glare and rolled his eyes before speaking. "Catrina found two strands of hair as well as some type of dog hair on the clothing. She hasn't been able to pull any police data up with the female hair found, but the dog is throwing her for a loop."

Hank raised his eyebrows in confusion. "How so? If it's just a typical dog, then nothing should be wrong."

"That's the thing, it's not a typical dog. The hair has similarities of a wolf, but there is something wrong with the DNA coding of the strand. Catrina said it's eating through the solution, whatever that means."

"Interesting."

"Weird as fuck, but who knows what kinds of dogs are out there these days?" Erick sighed, and moved back to his desk, his chair nearly buckling under his weight. "Back to the case, did you hear anything from the witness? When's the bastard coming in for an interview?"

Hank straightened the papers on his desk, before spitting the gum he had been chewing into the trash. "Should be here in a few minutes. He's a little flighty, so I'm thinking we play the good cop card."

"You sure as fuck are not a good cop."

"Well, at least I'm not a sex addict."

"Never said I was one, liking sex doesn't mean that I'm a nympho."

"That's your word choice, not mine."

Erick growled, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. He was tired, the constant fifteen hour shifts were weighing on him. His partner wasn't too far from the truth, Erick did have a small addiction to sex. It had grown in the last two years though, after his wife's murderer had been found, it felt like he no longer had anything to live for. Erick was tired of being alone, he missed lying next to his wife in bed, waking up to the smell of her floral fragrance, the gorgeous auburn hair that always seemed to coat his chest, because she was a little handsy in her sleep.

Fuck.

Erick pushed back the memories, trying not to remember the way her eyes looked when they made love, the little happy laughs she gave even when he told a lame joke, and the way she had cried when they found out she was pregnant. God damn. That hurt, fuck, even after five years the thoughts still killed him. No one knew, could possibly comprehend, the pain he went through every day.

So bringing women home every night was the least of his problems.

"You okay, Erick?" Hank asked, his eyes watchful.

Erick pushed back the memories even more. He had no right to those thoughts. Not when he was the one who had caused her death. Her family said as much, and he was beginning to believe them. He closed his eyes tight, trying not to remember the way her hands felt on his skin, how her body had rounded with the growth of their child, the smile that always coated her mouth, the sound of her voice when she said 'I love you.' God, he was trying so hard to forget this.

"I'm cool, man, don't worry about it." His voice was gentle for once, but remembering Margaret— or Maggie, as she liked everyone to call her—always did that to Erick. "What time did you say the fucker would be here?" Cursing helped, something constant always grounded him. Even if it was only words, the repetitiveness of the phrases calmed him. But liquor helped more.

Hank paused before answering, staring at his partner in sadness. The man was a walking train wreck, even with Hank's endless need to torture the man, he could see the pain Erick suffered. He had heard the stories about the murder of his partner's wife. It had been horrible, a violent crime that had blinded the police department. Until then, the department had never handled a serial killer like Brian Gaffe, and they hadn't since.

The man was crazed, his particular method of torture to pull the skin off the women he killed while they still lived. He'd take it off, strip by strip, bleeding them dry in the process. Maggie Wilder's murder had been more violent than any other of Gaffe's. Her pregnancy had added flame to the killer's intent, and it didn't help that her husband was about to put Gaffe's in jail for life. He'd just finished basic when Wilder's wife was killed, and the images and reports still haunted Hank.

Looking up, Hank spotted the witness being led in by a young deputy; Jamar Torres' body was tense, and his thick muscles strained under the shirt he wore. He practically embodied his job title, and it was no surprise to Hank why Haddock and Jack had hired the man. Honorably discharged from the Air National Guard, Torres had seen a lot in his tours; the left side of his face was badly scarred and Hank knew that was only a portion of the wounds that coated the man's body.

"He just walked in." Hank finally spoke, standing up and leaning over Erick's desk to straighten and grab the case file. "You good to go?"

"Just fucking take him to the interview room and read the fucker his rights."

Nodding in compliance Hank walked over to Torres, stretching out his hand to shake the other man's. "Jamar, thank you for cooperating and agreeing to an interview with us. We're hoping your statement will help us to attain a lead on the case."

Torres nodded, his brown eyes shifting to the left, catching site of Erick, he buffed out his chest a little, trying to establish dominance in the presence of another Alpha male. His efforts were futile, Erick would always have the upper hand. "Yes, I'll do anything I can to find the woman that did this." Hank was surprised by the man's honest statement. A lot of times, workers were unwilling, or afraid, to share information about their boss' murder. Mostly because they ended up as suspects, but that's beside the point. He scrunched his nose at Jamar's next statement. "If I was completely honest, I didn't really get a good look at her, my eyes were kind of focused on her tit-."

"Stop right their Torres, I need to read you your rights, or else everything you say will be inadmissible with the court. So if you'll give me a moment, I'll have a deputy set up the interview room and we'll get started." Jamar nodded in acceptance and embarrassment flushed his cheeks. He was confused though, the fact that his boss' had died from sex wasn't that big of a deal. He'd seen them together, checked in on his employers two hours in to their fuck party, and they'd still been going at it like rabbits. Why was it relevant that she be found? Yes, he understood that they had died from her mystical pussy, but that's just it, they died from sex. Nothing else. So, what the fuck was he being brought in for?

As promised, Jamar was taken to an interview room and his rights were read. The walls were brick grey, a light-colored wood table sat in the middle of the room, and an opposite view mirror filled a wall in front of the furniture. The deputy gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs facing the mirror, and Jamar had to remind himself that he was not under investigation. He'd done jack shit to be giving cause to the fucking cops.

He ran his hands over his face, fingers rubbing the sensitive scarred flesh, his mind winched in response to fluctuating memories, and he let out a deep, calming, sigh. It had been a long time since Iraq, fuck, it felt like decades, but sometimes the Post Traumatic Stress shit ate at him. He sucked in another breath of air, trying not to remember a similar room, in a not so similar country, and a pile of burnt bodies. "Fuuckk…" He breathed out, fingers pushed at his temples in calming swirls, and he tried to think positive thoughts.

"Thanks for stopping in today!" The door to the room slammed open, knocking into the brick wall hard, and filling the space with a splintering sound. Erick stood in the entryway, his eyes dark, lips pulled in a tight facsimile of a smile, and a thick case file in his hand. Hank fluttered behind him, a frown on his face apology at the ready, and followed the other detective into the room. They sat in front of Jamar, their bodies filling the room with overflowing amounts of testosterone.

"Not a problem," Jamar finally responded. "Like I told your partner, I'm happy to help you find the woman. Though I do have some questions, call it curiosity, if you will."

"Knock 'em out." Erick mumbled as he slapped the file on the table, hands nearly ripping the innocent paper in half as he opened it.

"They died from sex?"

Hank answered. "Yep."

"Why is it such a big deal?"

"Well-," Hank began, but Erick cut him off. "Classified, bub, sorry, but we can't share that particular bit of information with you."

"But you just said-,"

"Yeah, and I'm a cop, so I say a lot of things, but I don't actually mean ninety-five percent of them. Feel me?"

"Fuck, man-,"

"You getting fresh with me?"

"No, look-,"

"I'm just fucking with you." Erick cracked a wide smile as Jamar's fists clenched, his mouth setting in an intense line.

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?"

"I'm actually told that quite a bit."

"Charming." Hank coughed. "As I was saying," he growled, daring Erick to interrupt him again. "Your employers did die from sex, but, there was a toxin in their blood that seemed to speed up the process. I wouldn't call it a praying mantis effect, but it seems that the woman your employers slept with, poisoned them to death while she was having sex with them." He was quiet for a moment and a confused look covered his features. "Do you remember anything…strange about the woman?"

Jamar was thoughtful, "Like I said earlier, I really didn't get much of a look at her. My vision was twenty-twenty on her tits, yeah?"

Erick let out a grumble. "Can you at least describe anything above her chest? Any distinctive features you could remember, something that would help us to identify her."

"She was naked under her clothing." Jamar burst out. "I mean, yeah, I'm used to women going braless at the club, but completely bare is a little different." He stopped for a second, hands brushing against his scarred face, almost like a security reflex. "She was pretty tall for a woman, six foot, maybe six-two, her hair was mid length with a wave to it, and she had the oddest smell." He paused again, and a faraway look came to his eyes.

"The 'completely bare' bit would explain the clothing left at the scene, but you only saw her tits, so how did you notice anything else?."

"I mostly saw her tits, there's a difference. Fuck, man, what would you do if your boss was pawing a fine ass female in front of you and that same female was fucking begging for it? Jesus, she was like a black hole." He looked at the detectives, his eyes beseeching them. "Her smell really was odd. It was so earthy, like she'd just fallen from the woods, or dug her way out of the ground. That sounds crazy, I know, but I could see my boss', they kept smelling her, it was addictive to them."

"So, besides a magical smell, what else do you remember?"

Jamar glared, embarrassed at himself. "Not too much, she was tall, smelled amazing, tanned skin, big brown eyes, and a mid-length hair cut."

"Around what time did you leave that evening?"

Jamar laughed. "That morning, actually. I clocked out around one-thirty, and when I checked in on them, they were still going at it."

"Interesting." Hank murmured. "Did you see her administer anything in their drink, did they take anything from her?"

"No, they just fucked."

The detectives were quiet, their eyes locked in a conversation, and ultimately both knew that this witness did not have any vital information for them. Standing up and holding out his hand, Hank said, "Thanks for taking the time to come in today, Mr. Torres. We are very appreciative of the information you gave us." Jamar stood up, accepting the hand shake, and followed Hank out the door.

Hank led Jamar towards the exit, pointless conversation flowing. "We'll be looking at footage from the room later today, and if we have any questions we'll contact you. Is that alright?"

"Like I said, I'm more than willing to give you anything I know."

"Thank you again, Mr. Torres."

"Detective." Jamar nodded, before exiting the police precinct.

The she-wolves were running again, their paws, light on the forest floor, sending up sprays of dirt behind them, and the moon rested high in the sky. Two weeks they'd been at this, running patrol around the Cullen home, and it wasn't getting easier. The sickly scent of the vampire's burned at the women's noses, the glitter resting in their senses, and it followed them even after the she-wolves shifted.

The vampires had yet to leave with the pack's Alpha, but that did not stop the new assignment they'd been given. Since their discussion with Jacob, the woman had hardly remained in human form, instead, choosing to stay shifted for the majority of a day, and only returning to their original form when the sun crested the horizon. This was a benefit to them, because they released less of the emotions they harvested when in wolf form. There was less feeling in wolf form, less thinking, less sorrow, less everything. The woman were growing bitter, resentful at the constant separation that pushed them to the edge of the pack. Yes, yes, partly it was their fault, but no one reached out, noticed, cared, anything. Sue had made her thoughts on the she-wolves misbehavior very clear, there was sympathy in the woman's eyes, but her conscious was not as empathetic. What did Leah expect? Crying eyes, begging whispers, warm hugs? She wasn't delusional, she'd known for a long time that the loss of her emotions would cause a rift between the family and herself, but in the back of her mind—when emotions were present—she had wished everything to be a horrible dream, but it wasn't.

Sam was an expecting father.

Paul was newly engaged.

Everything hurt, burned at the back of the women's throats like a river in winter. Bella tried, desperately she tried, to hold herself together, and conserve the waning emotions that filled her body, but as they continued to release her rationality vanished. She was angry, so angry, and lashing out at other people helped, especially her sister Rachel. Fuck, she hated that woman. The disgust that filled Bella's stomach, when Rachel was within eyesight, ate at Bella. In the depths of her mind, logic reigned, and she knew it was not Rachel's fault, but Bella's inner wolf was enraged. Boiling a pot of liquid fury that was intent for Rachel's disgusting human body. Her sister was lucky, Rachel wasn't burdened with the shifter genes, and the other woman had control of her will. The ability to love and live free without hindrance, but Bella was stuck. Imprinted to a man that refused what they could have, empty on the inside, forced to share a pack mind with said imprint, Bella was so bitter.

Leaping effortlessly over a fallen tree, the women wove in and out of the ones surrounding them, and the pack mind, for once, was silent except for the she-wolves' thoughts.

She really asked you to be her maid of honor? Leah's voice was scorning and a rage bubbled just under the surface. The scent of vampires became stronger as they closed in on the coven.

Bella said nothing, increasing her speed to an almost painful pace, her breath falling in light, panting breaths. Images of her conversation with Rachel flashed through the pack mind, but no cruel intent covered her sister's face. Rachel had been genuine, her question truthful and pleading. Bella had been unable to decline, and the pain that accepting caused brought fresh realization to her.

Paul would never be hers.

That burned, fresh flames of agony licked their way through her body. Paul was completely happy, delirious at the prospect of marrying Rachel Black, and Bella would never be able to change his mind. Sorrowful, she begged someone, anyone, to change her future, to give her a semblance of happiness, but that would not happen. How could he not feel the emptiness and longing, the burning pain that filled Bella? How could those feelings not be shared between them? Bella suffered so much it felt like she was dying, yet he was able to live separately from her? The imprint was shared, she knew this, the pack mind housed the memory, but Paul still rejected her. How? Why was life so cruel? In her heart, Bella was slowly giving up. She was so tired of feeling such pain and loss. Seeing her imprint, knowing that her sister would bare his children and be given Paul's love freely was life ending.

Leah continued, but slowed her run to a trot, finally coming to a stop at the edge of the woods that led to the Cullen's home. Who the fuck does Rachel think she is? Bella, we can kill her, I'll beat her blood, and then we can burn her body. No one would be the wiser.

Idiot. Bella sighed, her body shaking in change until she stood fully human and gorgeously naked. Raw red marks coated her hands and feet, the constant patrols over the forest floor tearing at her body. This was new, the wounds that the two women were beginning to receive were a mystery. They were wolves, immortal, with a superhuman healing ability. Injuries of any kind were unheard of, but the women were precariously close to losing all of the emotions they had collected, and shedding feelings of fear or worry for mere wounds would release what was left far sooner. She didn't care though, nothing mattered much. In these last few weeks she only existed. Sighing, Bella spoke "What were you expecting? She's my sister, and contrary to popular belief, I did not always hate her. I don't think she even knows that I imprinted on Paul, and-"

Leah let out a furious roar, body tightening, heavy breaths rising and falling from her chest. Her face was encased in anger and her eyes were pure death. Leah's stepped close to Bella, pushing their heated skin together, her hands gripping harshly at the smaller woman's waist while pressing her back against the nearest tree. Leah's nails bit deep into Bella's hips, pulling blood from pale skin. "How can you accept this?" Her voice was low, her body shivering as it pressed against Bella's. Overly warm, Bella bucked her hips, attempting to dislodge herself—there were no feelings of comfort in this touch—but that only succeeded in Leah pressing herself even more against Bella. Their breasts pushed together, the skin on skin contact shooting waves of arousal through the emotions they shared, and Bella let out a whimper, heat pooling in her stomach. Leah laughed, a throaty sound, and pushed her hips against Bella's in a luxurious roll, her fingers rubbing seductively under Bella's breasts. Leah shifted her body, knee pushing Bella's legs apart, thigh rubbing directly against her friend's core. Bella let out a keening moan, her hands gripping at Leah's shoulders, nails biting deep into tanned flesh.

"Look at you," Leah growled, dominant side rising to the surface, and moved herself against Bella once more, lips quirking in a seductive smile. "How are you okay with this? So needy, so desperate. Look at what Paul has made you. What Sam has caused me to become." Her hand slid down between their bodies, fingers sliding against Bella's navel, dangerously close to where she really wanted Leah.

"I-I don't, Leah?" Bella couldn't think, her breathing was erratic, and this just felt wrong. Leah's fingers brushed against Bella's sex, twirling her clit, sliding between the lips in a gentle caress. "No-no, Leah. What are you- Oh, God!" She frazzled, her only focus on the intense need burning inside her.

"Look at us, Bella, reduced to seeking comfort from one another, burning for our imprints, but fucking other men. How are you alright with this? What we're doing now, how I'm making you come apart, is not right." She laughed, her strong hands lifting Bella's thighs so she could wrap her legs around Leah, her body pushing against Leah's hand. "You're falling into this so easily, Bella. So willing to take any semblance of comfort and affection from me, because it fills something inside of you." At the 'inside of you' comment, Leah plunged her fingers into Bella's depths, lightly curling them. She let out a cry as Leah's fingers brushed something that sent Bella flying. Leah pushed Bella further, enticing whimpers, moans, and all sorts of seductive cries from her friend's mouth. "Bella, Bella, Bella…What I'm doing to you is wrong, we're friends, sisters, this is not something shared between those relationships, but you don't care do you? Your imprint rejected you, so any semblance of physical touch is fine."

Leah moved her fingers faster, her head falling to Bella's breasts, and her teeth bit harshly at the other woman's nipples. Nibbling at them until they formed distended peaks of juicy red, before kissing her way up Bella's chest, mouth clamping on the woman's throat. Bella let out a high pitched cry when Leah sank her teeth into the junction of her neck and shoulder, Leah's fingers pumping in and out of Bella's pussy.

Leah's wolf was howling, the beast roaring in dominance at staking claim on something, anything that she could keep for their own. Her fingers moving inside of Bella's sex sent tendrils of glory through Leah, watching Bella fall apart in Leah's arms sent triumph running in her veins. Fuck Sam, fuck the pack, this solid foundation that she held with Bella was erotic, but this would be the only time she would touch her friend like this, abuse Bella's trust.

"Listen to me, Bella," Leah's fingers were pushing deep now, and Bella could hardly concentrate with the feelings in her body. Leah's voice was so seductive and Bella could smell her friend's wolf just on the edges of the woman.

"Please-please, Leah. I need to-, I want-." She pushed harder against the fingers invading her body, keening as they hit the bundle of nerves inside of her that caused bursts of pleasure to explode.

"Bella." The growl was a warning and Bella pulled her eyes up to lock gazes with the other woman. "I'm fucking you like this now out of sympathy. Do you understand?" Bella whimpered at the words, her head nodding so hard her breasts shook. "This is not okay, you should not be seeking this from me. You should not accept this from me, your sister and your friend. Do not blindly accept Paul's rejection of you, just like I will not give up on Sam." Bella's sex was tightening on Leah's fingers, and the smell of Bella's arousal was filling Leah's nose as well as the ones of the vampires that now stood behind the women. "Do you understand me?" Her voice was harsh her actions even more so as she added another finger to the two already inside Bella's pussy. Bella nodded again, unable to focus on anything except the bark shredding her back, the erotic sound of Leah's voice, and the fingers that were pushing her closer and closer to an orgasm.

"Tell me you understand, Bella." Leah commanded, her fingers slowing now, barely moving. She laughed harshly when Bella tried to push herself back on the digits only to be met with tight resistance from Leah's grip on her waist. "Answer me. Do not be blinded by your emotional need." Leah's voice was a guttural growl.

Bella looked away from where their flesh connected, eyes locking with Leah's before being pulled away when she noticed the Cullen's watching them. "Leah-I," Her flesh heated as heavy waves of arousal reached her again when Leah moved her fingers against the small spot inside Bella's core. She locked eyes with Jasper, connected by the heated gaze he was giving them. She watched as he licked his lips, hands clenching. He was the empath and could feel everything in that moment. Jasper let out a hiss as Alice brushed against his side, her hands intending comfort but only succeeding in increasing the burning need inside of him.

"Answer me." Leah savagely sank her teeth into the healing wound on Bella's throat, a growl reverberating as blood spilt forth.

"Yes, yes, I understand. Please, Leah. Please, I need to-,"

"What do you understand, Bella."

Bella whimpered again, the sound reverberating around the woods. "This is wrong. I- I- friends do not, we shouldn't-. I should not accept anything other than what I deserve." The last was harsh, breathed out in heavy pants, but when Leah nodded, Bella knew she had spoken right, and when Leah's fingers took up speed again, Bella could no longer focus.

An intense, blinding orgasm shot through Bella. Her body clenched, toes curled, and a keening wail ripped itself from her throat, but Leah didn't stop. Harsh fingers moved inside of her nonstop and when Leah's lips connected with Bella's she was skyrocketed into another freefalling high. "Leah!" She cried, wrenching her mouth away from the other woman's, breath barely filling her body.

Sudden, just as quickly as she rose, Bella fell. When Leah released her pliant body, fingers sliding from her core, lips skimming her cheeks, Bella sobbed. Her body racking with erratic bursts of grief as the enormity of what they had just done hit her. Fuck, oh fuck. Shame filled her as she crumbled to the floor, arms wrapping around her body. Someone covered Bella with a blanket, a vampire scooped her body up and held it against their own, and soon the feeling of a soft mattress and cool cloth hit her skin. She was still sobbing, uncontrollable, burning sobs. Leah, her friend, her ally, how had Bella become so lost within herself? How had she given up her will to live?

That's what Leah had meant, allowing what Bella deserved to slip through her fingers. How had she forgotten? The emotions she'd taken, they'd helped to push back the emptiness, but the problem was still there. Paul was Bella's imprint, just as she was his, and the intense pain and longing she fought was a constant reminder of that. She tried to stop, to brush away the salty tears that kept falling, but they wouldn't leave. She knew, that even after three weeks, such a short period of time, her emotions were leaving her. This last bitter cry, last bout of emotional sex, would be all she would feel for a long period of time. With Jacob leaving, and their punishment, the she-wolves wouldn't be able to leave and harvest more.

Bella tried not to think of herself as feral, but without her emotions, she was wild and untamed.

When Leah laid beside her, Bella rolled in close, her hands gripping at the other woman's shirt, sighing when Leah wrapped her arms around Bella in a tight embrace. "Tell me what you'll remember?"

This was a regular discussion, picking a feeling that they'll try to keep, even though the women knew the emotion itself would be forgotten.

Leah thought. "Amusement."

"Why?"

"Teasing the pups is my past time. I'm perfecting my torturous ways with those cuties." Bella laughed and burrowed her head into Leah's neck. "You torture them too. I seem to remember a delicious looking Collin practically salivating after you this morning. That little towel slip had the wolves panting."

"Oh, Collin…" Bella sighed, reliving the memory. "I think I scarred him."

"More like, gave him the greatest gift of his life."

"I do that daily. My whole being is a gift to men. Besides, it was just my breasts, he sees them all the time."

"Right, just not directly in his face and pressed against him. Telling him you were 'reaching for the cereal' was so lame."

"I couldn't think of anything else!"

Leah laughed, a happy trill that caused Bella's mouth to split in a shit eating grin.

"Of course, because you were too busy wanting to eat cereal. It had nothing to do with the monstrous bulge that his pants were holding."

Bella was silent, before becoming serious. "I'll miss the feeling of love." She paused, her mind working. "I don't want to forget what it feels like to love you as my best friend and sister. Or how I love my father and brother. Jacob…he can be so cruel, but I always admire him, and the intense need I have for his approval is constant in my heart."

Leah nodded, her hand rubbing comforting circles on Bella's back. "I love Paul, too. I can't stop, but there's so much pain when I love him. It is a sorrow filled love."

"I know. Sam…he's like this burning light in my heart. Every time he's near, or I see him, I just want to kiss him and touch him. I think about what it would feel like, to be in Emily's place, but it's so hard to try. It should be me, Bella." Tears were falling then. "How can he just reject me? Am I so worthless that even as his imprint he denies me?" Their positions were switched then, Bella cradling Leah, petting her back as the other woman cried. "Clothes," Leah finally murmured, pulling her body away she stood up, and grabbed a pile of clothing that had been placed on a chair in the corner. Tossing them at Bella she crawled back onto the bed, relaxing back, and stared up at the ceiling.

Bella slipped off the furniture, pulling on a black and white striped shirt and dark washed jeans. "Pants. Always pants with these vampires."

Leah laughed. "I can only imagine how much that clothing costs."

"Do you think Alice would be mad if I 'accidentally' ripped the jeans? I mean, say the sickly smell of sugar suddenly caused me to sneeze and, in the process, I ripped off a pant leg…"

"I heard that!" The vampire cried from somewhere in the house.

The sound of a door opening and heavy pairs of feet on the floor alerted the women to their packs presence. They froze, bodies tightening as the scents of their imprints filled the air.

"I don't want to forget." Bella whispered sitting on the edge of the bed she grasped Leah's hand, clutching it tightly in her own. "I'm so empty, Leah. Already these feelings are leaving me."

"Longing."

"What?" Bella asked confused.

"I don't want to forget the feeling of longing, because with that comes hope, and hope is the strongest feeling of all." The feelings were slipping away, only three weeks and already they were leaving the women. Everything was moving so fast, and the women needed more and more each time. Two, three, it didn't matter how many men, they would never be enough to stop the hunger.

The sound of voracious laughter filtered up from below and the women slowly made themselves presentable. "You look thoroughly ravished, if I do say so myself." Leah laughed.

"I wouldn't know," Bella giggled. "I'm almost embarrassed to look." Leah brushed her fingers through Bella's hair, sighing at the tangles, before seriousness overcame her.

"What I did to you does not change anything. I want you to know, that I will never take advantage of you like that again. You're my world, the only other person who understands what I'm going through, and I don't want to lose that. I just-"

"Shh," Bella whispered, placing a finger in silence against Leah's mouth. "I know, I understand why you did what you did. I was falling, very close to losing myself, and you brought me back. I do not regret the feelings we shared, you returned my goals and for that I am thankful. Beyond thankful, actually." She smiled, pulling Leah into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry." Leah whispered.

"Don't be. I enjoyed myself immensely."

"You're not…disgusted?"

Bella frowned, an adorable pout forming. "Why would I be disgusted? You are my dearest person, what we did was special and beautiful. Mind you, I don't know if I can do that with you again, but I will forever cherish your dominating guidance."

"Dominating, 'eh?"

"So shameful. Leah, I was begging you."

"That you were."

"Don't tease, let me enjoy the bliss without embarrassment."

Leah guffawed, "You were hardly embarrassed, I'd call it slutty, but that would be biased." She ran her hand through Bella's hair once more, finally deciding it decent, before pulling the girl from the room.

"I'm not slutty." Bella grumbled as they descended the stairs, Leah grinned, and laughed loudly. "I'm not!" Bella whined. There were some emotions left, just light bubbles on the surface, but they were there none the less.

Chapter Playlist

Weird Dark Things-Bronze Whale, Khai
Holy Soul-Salt Cathedral
She Talks Too Much-Elohim
Pygmalion-Liar
Teenage Crime-Adrian Lux
Goin' In- Skrillex "Goin' Down" Mix-Birdy Nam Nam