Their flesh is raw and bodies spent when he pulls out of her for the last time, spilling his seed onto the curve of her slick thighs. He holds himself up on his tired arms, hovering above her shivering figure as they try to collect their breathing. Sarah's eyes remain closed as jagged breaths shake her frame and Jacob watches as the female beneath him sweats at his expense. He bows his head and rests it in the mess of her tangled hair, his cheek pressed up against hers.
Her lids lift slowly to let her eyes adjust to the lack of movement and she glances at the heaving male she is pinned beneath, feeling his warm breath in puffs against the lobe of her ear. Her hands find their way to cup his shoulders so gently, barely even making contact. A quiet sigh parts her lips as she tries to find the right words to speak, but she comes up with nothing. She notices her skin beginning to feel sticky with the change in the atmosphere, almost as if they were dwelling in a sauna. Had it always been this warm?
Sarah huffs through her nose when she applies a gentle pressure against his shoulders, calmly shifting his frame to the side as she slips out from under his heavy form. She positions herself on the edge of the mattress for a moment, her bare back turned towards him. Without another thought or before he can muster up anything to say she lifts herself from the wrecked bed and walks out of the room.
Jacob watches in a slightly stunned silence as Sarah moves about the house. First, she leaves the room without a word and is now collecting her belongings from the living room, all while the girl refuses to even attempt making eye contact. His eyes remain fixed as she pulls the white dress over her head and hears her groan after getting the garment situated.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed when he finds the energy to move and shifts over to the wooden dresser in the corner. He pulls on a pair of black boxer briefs as he moves to the door, leaning his shoulder against the frame and crossing his arms over his bare chest. He watches with a raised brow as the young woman stands frozen in the middle of the room, seeming to be lost in thought. She swallows thickly.
Jacob cannot help the growl that rolls from his mouth when he notices the dress is still damp from the burden of the storm, now long since passed. He can see every curve and every shade of her skin beneath the fabric, and it doesn't help that there is now a tear in the elastic top of the gown causing it to sag around her breasts, letting them hover naturally. "Did I do that?" he asks huskily as the woman examines her attire.
"Yeah, thanks." Sarah mutters. "This was kind of my only article of clothing."
'What's with the drastic mood change? PMS much?' Jacob bites his tongue when he remembers voicing these choice words to Leah years ago and how much pain he was in for the remainder of the day due to her reaction. Considering he finds Sarah slightly more intimidating than his Beta, he thinks it is probably a wise choice to keep his thoughts to himself.
The static vibe of the room shifts in an instant as Jacob's human instincts suddenly kick in, his wolf clawing back into the dark and hidden confines of his mind, thus leaving him to pick up the mess. His nerves are flooded with discomfort and he clears his throat after it goes unintentionally dry. "Where are you going?" he asks as smoothly as he can.
She doesn't make an effort to move the hair that falls in front of her eyes and her head keeps low as she speaks softly. "I told you I was leaving in the morning."
"Oh." Jacob was never good at hiding his disappointment, although his curiosity is what keeps him more intrigued at this moment. Why was she even here? Not that he was complaining, although if he really cared, that probably should have been a question to ask before they repeatedly ravaged each other.
"Well," she lifts her gaze to his with a cheeky smile. "Goodbye." And she was gone, as fast as she had come. Again.
He doesn't understand why she was so formal with her parting. It renders him baffled and even his inner animal is cringing as it muses over the complications of a feral female. "Thanks for nothing." He directs inwardly in a hushed voice.
Jacob doesn't know how long he hovers in the doorframe leading to the bedroom as his body reacts to a whirlwind of emotions. His fists clench with the fury for leaping into bed with the strange woman, no matter how enjoyable it had been. He has had many women and has been content with the possibility of never finding the one. It almost seems destined to be that way. But Sarah's lack of pure humanity sets her apart from the usual mold. Her supernatural nature makes her a threat. She can never know what he is, what he does. It is forbidden. She is already treading thin lines just by being here. So why didn't he push her away?
He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and chews lightly as he feels the concern in the pit of his stomach. He worries for his pack, for Sam's pack, and even for the blasted Cullen's. There have been so many legends, some proving to be dangerously true while others are purely mythical, and Sarah did not fit in with any of it. The woman came out of nowhere, from nowhere – 'Alaska?' he thinks – and it was evident that she was not like him, like any of them. Sure, she was some kind of shape-shifter, but that just left even more unanswered questions. And she seems so in-tune with her animal, her wolf, unlike any of his pack members. It was as if it controlled her, like the wolf was the dominant entity and Sarah was just a part of the prestidigitation.
And her healing ability – He has never seen anything like it. What else was she capable of? What kind of magic was she born from? These questions, and so many more, caused him to fear for those he knows and loves. If she doesn't leave in the morning like she keeps promising, he worries of what could happen. The possibilities were endless and most scenarios caused his flesh to boil. But what if she did leave?
His heart sinks towards his diaphragm and the beat skipped causes his lungs to momentarily strain for air while his skin vibrates with a numbing sensation. He feels a pull, a sort of longing for Sarah. Her presence had stirred something within him, feelings and desires he had never even chanced a second thought with. He is fascinated with the unknown where it was concerned with her, no matter how much he tried to tell himself to stay away and think of his pack. His family. He wants to know her in every aspect, figure her out and all of her magic and hope that she is far from dangerous. He wants to feel her back in his embrace.
Jacob wildly shakes his head to rattle the thoughts bombarding his mind and causes the wood to groan as he leans more of his weight into the doorframe. He turns his head to take in the sight of what once looked like his home. The stack of mail that was messily, although methodically, sitting on his kitchen counter the previous morning is strewn about the floor. His old red couch that usually sits in the middle of the room directly in front of the small television is pushed up against the wall and half of the cushions are missing, and his table lamp lays broken on the ground. He squints his eyes and notices a set of distinct claw marks in the wooden floor by the couch. Was that him, or her?
He shifts his stance to peer into his bedroom and is welcomed by an unnatural sight. On a normal day his bedroom was kept tidy, as much as it could be for a mid-twenties bachelor. But now the mattress lies crooked over the box-spring, the lip of the far side sagging towards the floor. The flannel fitted sheet has been pulled from its purpose, clinging to only a single corner while the rest of it spills out onto the floor and the flat sheet lies in a mangled heap at the foot of the bed. He counts three out of four pillows; one in the window sill pressed up against the cheap blinds, another wedged between the mattress and the headboard, and the third is entangled in the sheets. Random papers and miscellaneous items litter the floor, and he can't help but grin wolfishly at the view.
To top it all off, the lingering scent of sex is thick and hovers throughout his small home. He can smell her sweat and the heat between her thighs as if she were still there which causes the all too familiar pull in his gut. It has been less than twenty-four hours and he can't help the longing, the need, to be near her. What the hell was wrong with him?
Was this… imprinting?
All of the guys who have been lucky enough – or as Jacob has recently declared as unfortunate – to have imprinted had all explained it the same way. The imprint becomes their world, their everything. No one else matters in comparison and nothing keeps them grounded save for the strength of the imprint. It is unbreakable and the most powerful form of love. It is the wolf's involuntary method to finding their soul mate.
Sure, his thoughts have been deluged with Sarah all day, and he keeps wanting to be close to her, but certainly there is an explanation for that. There has to be. It can't be an imprint. The whole process is ancient; he would know exactly what it is when it happens, right?
Jacob shakes his head again as he chides himself and walks towards the bed. He figures he can clean up in the morning, seeing as there is no more than two hours left until the sun rises. For now he needs his rest. He needs to tame the wild argument within his mind. He stands at the foot of the disheveled bed and lets his body fall freely onto his stomach, his cheek pressing heavily into the mattress and his arms back against his sides.
Among the chaos and the unwanted emotions, and the theories on his possibly imprinting, one factor terrifies him the most, but he tries to keep that in the furthest corners of his sanity while his eyelids grow heavy. Sarah stirs something within his wolf that he has never felt before. His alter-ego has never wanted to be more in control and as experienced as he likes to think he is, he is at a complete loss for what to do. Before letting sleep consume him he decides that in the morning he will seek out his father to try and get some answers.
Sarah can't sleep, even if she tried to force it. There is too much commotion in her train wreck of a mind and her nerves all out of whack. Luckily she was able to stabilize the miniscule grip on reality she happened to conjure up and high tail it out of there, away from Jacob, before she did something else stupid. She feels that her body's compulsion for sex has been fulfilled so now she can leave, before the desire replenishes itself without her own accord. And she's leaving fast.
The sun has already claimed its rightful place in the morning blue of the sky by the time she reaches Forks. Unfortunately, thanks to the constant, dreary weather it seems the clouds from last night have decided to stick around and settle around the town, causing that grey tinge she became familiar with on her first day in the area.
She figures she should get herself a new outfit and ditch the dress, then try her hand at hitchhiking her way out of town. She is a little bit rusty in the manipulation department so it could be fun to brush up on her techniques. Not to mention it may be a good idea to get drunk on a new stranger's stench rather than happen upon even a hint of Jacob. She would probably turn around without a second thought and barge her way back into his bed. No, not again.
First she stops by the café to say a quick hello to Taryn and divulge in a cup of steaming coffee. After a short and simple conversation and new directions, she takes her drink to-go and makes her way towards the center of town to find the small clothing boutique that the barista had raved about. Upon arrival at the store, she finds it quaint and welcoming, and notices a vast amount of styles to choose from. The amount of clothing is almost overwhelming compared to the tiny size of the shop.
After perusing through countless wracks and tables of outfits, she settles for a simple pair of denim shorts with a sable green racerback. She pays for the items, along with a set of black sneakers, rather than trying to sneak them away from the watchful eyes of the employees. She tells the girl behind the counter to keep the receipt and changes in the bathroom, leaving the dirty white dress behind in the trash can.
A small television catches her eye as she walks by a large window on her way back to the highway. Sarah stops in the middle of the sidewalk causing the couple behind her to break their hold on each other's hands and part around her like an obstacle, only to meet again and embrace each other even tighter as they continue on their way. She cocks her head to the side as she waits for the program on the screen to unfold. She watches as a large elk grazes in a filed of long grass, and the scene cuts to a man adorned in full camouflage hiding in the brush as he steadies an archer's bow in his hands. She can't hear any sound through the glass but continues to view intently as the man waits for so long, just watching his prey. It cuts back to the elk which continues to eat, completely oblivious to its impending doom. After the man on the television shoots his arrow and strikes down the animal with one swift and precise motion, the program cuts to a montage of targeting and kills with the weapon.
She becomes entranced by the video playing and loses her sense of surrounding and time, not even hearing the door that leads to the store open.
"Hey there," a gruff voice wakes her from her stupor.
Sarah rips her eyes from the screen to the man standing in the doorway. He is very lean and slightly taller than her and his choppy grey hair hangs in tufts from underneath his camouflage baseball cap. The lopsided grin on his face is friendly.
"See somethin' you like?" He asks.
Sarah looks to the television and back. "What is this?"
The man leans forward to peer around the display window and get a look at the program. "Ah, you an archer?"
She shakes her head as her eyes wander back to the screen, falling under another trance. "No," she manages.
"It's a good sport. You interested in learnin'?"
Sarah continues to stare at the box as if she is drawn in by its features until a hand waves in front of her face, shaking her from her spell. "What?"
"Come on in. I'll show you what I got." The man leans further into the door to open it at its full tilt, revealing the entrance and waiting for the woman to enter before him.
Sarah's nose is bombarded with the smell of solvents and gun powder as she steps further into the shop, her eyes scanning all of the equipment. She shivers and turns away at the sight of the gun cabinet near the register. She focuses her attention on the display in the far wall, taking in an assortment of stuffed animal heads and photographs. She takes another step when she feels the man's presence behind her.
"I'm gonna take a guess and say you're a beginner, so this right here is the best piece of equipment for a rookie." He pauses to let her turn her attention on him. "AW Deluxe recurve Take Down bow with a wood handle, got a twenty pound draw weight. Now I'd say you're 'bout…" his voice trails as he looks her body over quickly, leaving Sarah feeling slightly agitated. "You probably weigh 'bout one-thirty-five, right? Well you can probably handle a draw weight of thirty, maybe thirty-five pounds max, but since you're just startin' out its best to go with a smaller size and weight."
After the man's rant Sarah's insecurities disappear. He was so involved with his craft it was like he was just speaking out loud to himself. She watches quietly, and in a state of awe, as he openly admires the weapon in his hands.
"And it's easy as cake! You just grab the grip here, like this, and pull back on the line." His stance holds firm as he shows her to use the piece while her eyes find their way to another bow behind him. The design and mechanics look much more complicated than the simple piece of wood he holds in his hands, and it looks heavier, like it may actually cause damage. It was an intimidating item.
"What about that one?" the man turns his head to find what the woman is pointing at.
"You mean the Hoyt Powerhawk compound bow with carbon handle? Yeah, things a beauty, but I think she may be too much for a youngin' like you."
Sarah ignores the man and takes the bow from where it hangs and admires the craftsmanship as she carefully holds it in her grasp. A flash of what the employee showed her followed by a recall of the program she had watched causes her to brain to instinctively jolt her body into reaction. She firmly clasps one hand around the grip as she points the weapon towards the back wall and raises her other hand to hook her finger around the bow-string.
The man tries to reach calmly for the merchandise. "Don't hurt yourself, now. That's a sixty pound -" His words drop from his mind as he watches the small-framed woman effortlessly pull back the string to its full length, her cheek pressed up against the cables and her eyes hard set on the back wall. "You look like a pro." He laughs more to himself.
She throws a smirk over her shoulder as she lowers the device and releases the tension in the line. "I'm a fast learner."
"I'd say so. What do you say? You interested?"
Sarah turns hesitantly on her heel to greet the man with a raised brow. "Excuse me?"
The man laughs lightly. "In the equipment – you interested? Or do you wanna find somethin' smaller, like a knife or a revolver?"
"No!" The taken aback look on the mans face tells her that she probably answered too quickly and she can still feel the lingering stress from her voice. "I mean, no. I don't like guns."
"Alright, fair enough." He holds his hands up, palms out, as if in surrender then points to the bow in her grip. "You wanna get that?"
Sarah admires the weapon for another moment before placing it back in its place on the wall. "No. I'm leaving town any way."
"Really? When?"
"Today."
"Ah, that's too bad. You woulda looked real good with that Hoyt. Where ya goin?"
Sarah shrugs as she slides her hands into her back pockets. "Not sure."
The man nods his head and sucks in his cheek, his features shallow in thought. "Well, the name's Terry, if you ever come on back. She'll be waitin' for ya." He gestures towards the bow again.
"Thank you." Sarah gives him a genuine smile and leaves him behind as she exits the store. She isn't sure how long she had conversed with the friendly employee but from the glow of the sun through the haze it seems to be mid-afternoon. She pauses for a moment on the pavement to give one last look to the row of small businesses, but the moment all aspects of her surroundings flood her senses, images of the native adaptation of Adonis assault her mind. The way his perfect teeth gleamed when he smiled, the flash of raw and uncharted emotions in his dark eyes, his unblemished and chiseled frame as he hovered above and below her while he pleasured her repeatedly with a dangerous expertise – Sarah is in trouble.
"Get the fuck out of my head!" She grinds out before treading back towards the highway where she figures she can walk along for a few miles before waving down a random stranger and their car. And then she can get the hell out of Washington as fast as possible.
After passing the café she begins the approach to the small convenience store and gas station. Her feet involuntarily stop mid step while her muscles tense, her nose obviously commuting directly with her motor skills before connecting with her brain, but when the spark ignites she realizes why the sudden halt. That damn smell again. Her jaw goes rigid and her eyes pierce forward, all of her senses taking it down a notch to let her nose and ears do all of the work as she picks up her pace again, heading towards the gas pumps with a new determination. The closer she draws, the thicker the scent grows and the more it tickles the hairs in her nostrils. She fights the overwhelming sensation to sneeze at the sickly-sweet tinge and the want to gag from the putrid stink of death. Once she clears the far corner of the store she stops in her tracks to look frantically in every direction.
The road and the woods beyond are deserted as far as she can tell, and only a silver Mercedes rests idly by the four gas pumps. Sarah feels excited and panicked all at once, straining herself and her heightened senses to finally get a look at the smell that has been haunting her for most of her life. Although, she notices, there is something vaguely different here, something a little off. The aroma is the same, but it's not. It is all too confusing, but she needs answers. She just wants to know.
As she is about to take her next step leading her in the direction her nose has chosen, she hears the familiar bell signaling the opening of the entrance to the mini-mart. Exiting the store and strolling gracefully towards the Mercedes are three laughing women. One is alarmingly petite with short and stalk straight brunette locks, another is taller with long chocolate waves, and the third is about the height of the latter with similar colored hair falling in ringlets down her back. Sarah watches as they smile brightly, there skin all sharing the same ivory tone and their aura intoxicating. The one with the curls has a rosy tint to her cheeks and looks to be in her late teens but there is something child-like in her coffee brown eyes while the other two don the same golden orbs. And they are ridiculously beautiful, perfect even, like celestial beings come down to Earth to shatter the dreary mood with their bell-like giggling. Sarah feels drugged by their presence.
These women cannot be the source of the smell. They are too angelic… Who are they? What…
It doesn't take long for her to shake the helpless feeling when she notices that the short ones eyes are on her. Their gaze connects like an electric current and the pixie-like woman seems to lapse into a momentary daze until she finally smiles brightly. The black specks buried in her aureate eyes pool to what should be their normal size while Sarah cannot help but stare back, motionless. Her smile seems knowing and warm, like she can see right through Sarah and she knows some sort of delightful secret. But as fast as the smile spreads it begins to falter, finally being replaced by a look of utter sadness. The sorrow that wades within the little ones eyes is heart-breaking and Sarah fights to swallow the lump growing in her throat.
"What is it, Alice?" The other one with the same eyes takes her friend's shoulders in her arms, a look of curiosity reading across her features. She follows her gaze to the woman frozen in her place only feet from them and her lips form a loose line.
"That's so sad." If it weren't for Sarah's excellent hearing she probably wouldn't have even caught a trace of the short one's whispered words. She watches with a bated breath as three pairs of eyes stare with an unreadable expression until finally climbing into the sleek car. Sarah waits for the doors to close and for the sound of the engine roaring to life, and finally for the vehicle to drive off and disappear around the corner before she can find the will to move again.
She is almost jogging by the time she reaches her destination, nearly knocking the door off its hinges before slamming all of the money from her pocket down onto the glass counter. Her eyes are blazing with determination and certainty as she collects her breath and grins at the man. "How much for the one I liked?"
"Decided to stick around, huh?" Terry raises a brow.
"Yes, now how much?"
"That Hoyt right there'll cost ya about four hundred."
Sarah groans and feels the confidence begin to drain from her nerves. "Shit," she mutters under her breath.
"How much you got?" Terry cranes his neck to get a better look at the wad of cash in her hands.
Sarah unfolds the bills and lays them on the counter. "A little more than eighty."
"That's all you got?" he picks with another quirked brow.
"Yeah, I'm not from around here so -"
"Figured as much." He chuckles. "Tell ya what. I'm gonna give you my old recurve to practice with. It's seen better days but it'll do the trick. You just gotta buy all the fixin's to go with it, and be sure to return it in the same condition I give it to ya in." He chides.
"No, I can't -"
Terry holds a hand up to stop her. "It's alright. You look like a darn natural with that thing, figure it would be a real shame to let a raw talent like that go to waste. So what do ya say? We got a deal?"
Sarah can't help the smile and the short laugh that cuts through her breath at the unnecessary act of kindness. "I don't know what to say…"
"Just say thank you." Terry slaps his hand on the counter in finality before disappearing through the door leading to the office. Minutes later he emerges with a bow that looks similar to the one he had first showed her. Sarah immediately notices the chips and bruises in the older wood, but her eyes grow wide with delight nonetheless. He lays the bow on the counter and reaches for a long and narrow rounded case on the lower shelves.
"These here are the cheapest arrows we got, but they'll hold up just fine, long as you don't handle 'em bad. And remember you gotta have a license before you do any kind of killin'." He pauses to throw a wink. "That's all you'll be needin' for this set, so just hand me a twenty and be on your way." Terry smiles and slides the equipment closer to her.
Sarah quickly hands him the bill without hesitation and snatches up her new purchases, or rentals rather, and looks at the man with a soft admiration. "Thank you so much. I don't understand why you're being so kind, but thank you."
"Ya don't need to understand." He waves his hand towards the door and laughs. "Now get on out of here and have some fun."
Sarah ends the conversation with a polite nod and makes her way to the door but stops when she hears his voice again.
"Ya didn't tell me your name, sweetheart."
She bows her head and suppresses a laugh before turning back to face him. "It's Sarah."
"Sarah." He says quietly to himself as if his mind ponders. "I like that. So what made ya decide to stick around, Sarah?"
She shrugs and gives him a sideways grin. "I think that will always remain a mystery."
Author's note: I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. It honestly took me forever to write this chapter because I have been in kind of a dark place the past week and a half. A little depression, a little anger… So I stuck to reading books and some lovely pieces of work here on this site to get me out of my funk while I slowly managed to work something up as an update.
I hope you enjoy this chapter… I feel a little indifferent, but I think that's mostly because of my emotional state (Oy, I'm such a sap). But please let me know what you think, whether it's via review or PM. I'm really working hard at this story, and the ideas keep flowing like crazy! So all I ask is for a little bit of feedback. It is always appreciated and I always respond because I feel it is the least I can do.
A special thanks to Venetia Carianna, xXAngelStormXx, Song Of The Moon, Invaderzee, A.J. Scarlet, Mebs2010, and Mrs. Lautner96! I don't know what I would do without you all. Thank you SO much for the kind reviews and all of your words of encouragement, it truly means the world to me! I hope I can keep this thing up to par for all of you. And everyone else, be sure you check out all of their Jacob-centric fics. They are all amazing and deserve to be known!
Thank you again.
