Disclaimer: Every recognisable character, setting, backstory and/or themes belong to their respective owners, Marvel Comics and Stephanie Meyer. I am in no way associated or representative of the estates of these fictions and any copyright infringement is unintended.

Pre-read: Greetings and welcome! I am still in my infancy with published writing – fanfiction or otherwise. I am looking forward to this journey. Thank you for coming back and joining me on this journey – please feel free to send any comments or critiques.

Narration: storms

Thoughts: storms

Speech: "storms"

Chapter 2

Ororo

Heading back to her lovely cabin, Ororo mentally ticked off her list of things she needed to do to settle. Forks was a small town but had a lot of conveniences; storefronts, amenities and a good structure that reminded her of Westchester in certain instances. The windrider was able to find everything she needed and even source a garden centre – she was excited to see what they had to offer.

Ororo found the rest of her afternoon engaged with housekeeping, she put up net curtains, swept all the rooms and changed the bedsheets and duvet covers. Candles set up around the house bought a subtle scent of jasmine and, soon, the smell of salmon cooking filled her space. Ororo pushed the windows open with her wind and sat outside on the porch front to eat her meal.

The former goddess' mind wandered to the small information she was able to get today – the police chief of Forks was welcoming and willing to provide answers to her on-the-nose questions "Are there any things I should be aware of?", "I heard there were some animal attacks around the woods?" and "Are small towns safer than big cities, you think?". Chief Swan was amiable and knowledgeable, it was easy to see he loved this town.

But the information seemed to point to what Charles may have been worried about – something had the police, both in Forks and La Push on high alert, which she noticed was reflected in the tense atmosphere at the precinct office.

Ororo wanted to head down to Seattle next week, to see if she could find out anything new. She was also interested in the man she met today outside the grocery store. She believed he could be related to the various signatures that the Professor had felt from this area, as she could feel the psionic energy radiating off Seth and his friends. The goddess was smiling down on her. How lucky would it be if she had indeed met one of the mutants in this area on the same day as coming here?

As the day melted into evening, Ororo made her way to outside of the cabin and took a deep breath. She had seen Forks and the reservation on foot – now she wanted to take to the air. Using her winds to lift her, she sailed upwards at a slow rate for a minute or so, which allowed her to acclimatise. The air pressures were different in this part of the country. She didn't want to lose her breath.

She ascended gradually, the cabin below shrank and as the mutant looked towards the setting sun, she smiled. She had been flying since she was a young child: as an orphan surrounded by street children almost all the time, she loved the quiet of the skies, when she floated above the world like this. She never felt more powerful than when she flew into the clouds and above the headwinds. Gaia had welcomed her and she had embraced the earth back, and it had been her solace since then.

She headed westwards, chasing the sun, and rose higher to glide above the rain-filled clouds. It seemed to always rain here and it produced a clean, fresh scent to envelop Forks constantly. Ororo came to a stop and perched on a tall fir, using the winds to keep her still. Her eyes settled on nothing for a while, simply revelling in her surroundings.

But as she cast her gaze back towards town, she spotted movement through the forest heading northwards. It was sudden and jarring, catching her attention to what seemed to be large animals running at speed. The trees occasionally rustled as if something were pushing against them with great force.

Months now of being an X-member had her tensing, preparing to take flight and give chase. But she paused, Charles' words of caution ringing through her ears. No, this could be an opportunity to observe unless a human was directly in danger. She would follow and keep her distance. The windrider rose from her perch, and swiftly followed the disturbances. Whatever was being chased, or chasing, appeared to move in different directions and weave through the trees and undergrowth. Like it was reacting to something.

Ororo finally caught up with what she assumed now was a chase, using mist to disguise herself, the weather witch lowered her altitude to float amongst the lower trees and shifted the winds so that she was downwind. She spotted a clearing up ahead, nestled between the forest and a cliff edge, dropping off towards the sea. Ororo rose again to nest in the thick bristles and spikes of the tall pines that crowned the clearing and, as she watched, a man burst through the bushes at such speeds that the former goddess could hardly keep up.

She hid further into the tree to avoid detection, watching as the man turned his head sharply to the right, before he was bowled over by a large grey blur. The collision, that rang out like a gunshot across the small clearing, was punctuated by growls and howls: several other large shapes broke through the treeline and stalked forwards.

Ororo found herself horrified and fascinated: the man crouching in the centre of the valley had wounds and claw marks over his body but appeared unaffected. Not human… Ororo concluded, as there was no blood in his wounds. His face was visible now that he had turned towards the threats behind him: his pale, handsome face twisted into something monstrous, with his lips curled over sharp canines, teeth gleaming silver and his eyes coal black, sclera and all. As the African woman continued to watch the scene unfold, clouds that were previously blocking the sunlight parted slightly. And with that, his skin transformed. The translucence of his skin appeared to shift and harden, into diamonds, that threw back the rays of light back into her eyes. Like dew on a spider web, the black-eyed man glittered and glinted, transforming into some ancient being of legend and myth.

Ororo's mind spun: I can't detect what exactly his mutation is? Skin transmutation, like Piotr, maybe? Or some type of imperviousness to damage? A shield, perhaps?

As she continued to muse, the man scowled down his adversaries; a group of wolves, unnaturally large, the weather witch noted that they stood higher than the average lupine. Tall, with long hind and fore legs, the thick trunk-like flanks of the animals heaved with exertion and adrenaline. Their barrel chests all seem to vibrate and rumble in unison, producing a cacophony of growls and snarls. All of them covered in short, tangled furs that ranged in autumnal, pitch and silvery shades.

Like clockwork, they had shifted to circle the man in the centre who had risen slightly and now showed slight panic across his lovely features. One of the wolves, slightly larger and taller than the rest, stalked forward, its head bowed low in aggression and challenge. Ororo bristled in reaction; she shifted on her perch, leaning forward worriedly. She had never seen animals react with such venom towards people like this. Perhaps they also sensed he was not human and were threatened by him. But would they be able to battle him? If this person was a mutant like I suspect, he could decimate these wolves…

With her mind made up, she rose from her perch, the winds caressing and holding her form. Sinking down to ground level, she sunk her fingers into the leaves and grass, the temperature of her fingers dropping rapidly. The weather witch summoned ice and water to her hands, and just as the rogue mutant ran at the wolf closest to him, Ororo shot ice towards his feet, yanking him mid-air and freezing his lower half to the ground. His yell of surprise rang out through the clearing, simultaneously, all the furry heads and ears perked up: the growls falling silent.

In the midst of their visible confusion, Ororo launched herself forward, the man in her sights, and lashed snow drifts towards his arms and torso as well. When she was confident that he was secure, the weather witch landed in front of him but had half her head turned towards the wolves.

They are still animals after all, they may react to me as they did him. But they all stilled, taking note of her: one of the wolves, a silver furred one with long, graceful limbs stalked forward, an aborted movement, as it was not sure whether to approach.

The sound of sibilant hisses pulled her towards the rogue mutant in front of her, and she gazed steadily at him as he thrashed violently in his frozen cage. His struggles were frantic and powerful, but her ice held him and eventually the black-eyed mutant settled on scowling at her. Good, Ororo thought, I can get some answers from him. Her sapphire eyes locked with his pitch ones.

"You're not human," the weather bender stated, watching as the trapped man jerked his head to the side at her statement. A moment in time passed: a crooked smirk chipped itself across his face. "Neither are you, you delicious thing," he purred and took a deep breath. "You smell like a whole meal, especially compared to those dogs behind you."

"Leave the animals out of this: why are you here?" Ororo questioned. "You are too close to the humans of this town, and whatever group you are with, they are catching the attention of the people of this area."

"It's convenient to stay close to your food, isn't it? These backward monkeys are ripe for the picking, so easy to hunt and drain," the mutant's grey tongue swept his lower lip, then tilted his head back in almost ecstasy. His words registered a moment later.

"You feed on humans? Like a ghoul?" Ororo asked him, startled by this revelation. "Is this a part of your mutation?" The weather witch was worried by this: the Professor had stated that he hoped they could bring these new mutants into the fold, lead them from whatever path they were going down and mentor them in ways to survive alongside humans in peace. But if they fed off people, then…

"Suck the blood outta innocents, princess, like leeches," a deep voice snarked behind. Ororo's eyes widened in shock and turned to see who had arrived. She glanced across the clearing back to where she expected to see wolves still prowling behind her, and saw 5 men, stood like soldiers and watching the two mutants intently. Their eyes were all hard, mostly focussed on the mutant behind her, but she noticed several glances directed towards her.

The former goddess looked around, trying to see where the wolves had gone and one of the men noticed and stepped forward. "Didn't expect to see you here, 'Roro." Her head whipped forward again to focus on the man now stood before and realised it was Seth: the same man she had bumped into outside of the grocery store.

"Seth?" Ororo whispered, confused. His warm smile slide across his face, but his sharp eyes held confusion and suspicion, towards her it seemed. "Best to step back, babe, get out of biting range," he rumbled, moving close enough to her and looping his long arms around her waist. Seth then tugged her away to the side, putting himself between Ororo and the rest of his group. She looked over broad shoulders and watched the men surround the mutant. "Ha, I've never seen one trussed up like a turkey before!" one of the guys guffawed.

The tallest man glared at the man who spoke, silencing him, before sneering at the trapped 'leech'; he had started hissing and thrashing again, perhaps panicked by the men surrounding him. The man who had glared, a giant amongst giants, turned towards Seth and Ororo, his obsidian eyes catching the arm still wrapped around her waist then flicking upwards to peer at her eyes.

Ororo felt like she had been punched in the gut, trapped by his gaze. The weather witch had faced down mutants, gods and entities, in battle; by herself and with her teammates by her side. She liked to think her resolve was solid, but the second this man had looked up at her, his eyes like blown glass, she felt small and vulnerable. She was vaguely aware that the world around her had quieted, but she focussed on little outside of this giant. Lumbering towards them, silent on his feet despite his size, he stopped short of the pair and inclined his head slightly towards Seth. Side by side, Ororo noticed they looked related, almost like brothers, the differences only apparent when you were closer to them.

Seth, responding to some silent signal, unhooked his arms from around her, smirked slightly at her and walked backwards. Ororo looked up, finding her entire vision filled with this man, unsure about what he wanted with her.

After a pause, "Drop the ice. We need to take out the garbage," his voice quaked in her ears, into her very bones, she thought. But the Kenyan regained her composure, shook her head and gazed up at this interloper, the movement of her snowy locks catching his eye briefly.

"I, I would like to get information from him. I believe there are other mutants like him in the area and if we could just talk to him…" she began, thinking to reason with him. "There's no need for talking. He's a parasite, and he'll lead other leeches here if we leave him walking. We take him down. Now." His tone brooked no argument, but Ororo paid attention to his eyes. This was clearly someone used to having his commands followed, his gaze focussed, his tone steady: a leader, I recognise the type.

"Please? I'd like to try with him at least, Mr…?" she switched tactics, trying to establish some rapport. The tall man glanced between her eyes briefly, then shook his head. She realised she might need to concede this battle; these men seemed knowledgeable about what might be going on in Forks and Seattle, so she settled back. Nodding her head, the former goddess surged her power towards the … vampire? and released him from her shackles.

Between the moment it took for her to melt the ice and her next inhale, the leader had thrown a "Light it up" over his shoulder and, as she watched, three of the guys closest to the leech had grabbed his arms, one leg and pulled. A horrible sound, like scrapped metal being crushed, accompanied the vampire being torn apart. Seth had stepped forward with a lighter and before she could blink, dark purple flames had arisen from the pile of pale limbs.

Wincing, Ororo averted her eyes, disturbed by the sudden violence. Trying to regain her centre, she glanced up to find brittle onyx pupils staring her down. "I can't say I approve of the methods, but I suppose if he was a danger to humans'" she trailed off, her thoughts turning inwards. His words bought her out of her reverie, "We defend our lands. The time for negotiating and truces is over." His tone remained even but the man's emphasis on the word truce suggested previous bad history.

"You are mutants, then. The wolves from before, are they your other forms?" she was curious about them. He snorted softly "Mutants? I dunno about that. We are spirit warriors, born with the ability to shapeshift" he explained "And from what you did to that leech, I suppose this ain't new to you?" She nodded and smiled "We are all part of a larger community, those born with or given powers and abilities beyond what normal humans can do."

"Hmm." He appeared to ponder her words but turned his head at a loud "Jake!". His name, I suppose. She watched as he held court with his men, discussing between them in hushed voices. She moved further from them (and the smouldering remains of the vampire) and looked towards the horizon. Adrenaline leaked from her veins, leaving her weary after the short battle. She wanted to start heading home, regroup, maybe even contact the Professor. He would like to know what happened today. Before the former goddess had gathered winds to fly off, a warm hand wrapped itself around her wrist. She shifted to see Seth grinning down at her. "You alright? You zoned out for a bit," the shifter queried, his head tilting in the way a dog's might. It was an endearing image.

His quiet words were spoken lightly but thrummed with an undercurrent of concern. "Oh, I am well, just digesting everything," she smiled tremulously. His sharp eyes caught on her wobble, but shrugged and smiled, moving past her slight lie. She caught the thick wrist that was holding her hand, catching his attention "Can I know, does it hurt? When you shift into a wolf?"

Seth tilted his head, pursed his lips as he answered "Nah, it's like slipping in and out of an old pair of jeans now. Hurt in the beginning though, like a motherfucker" he mumbled the last part. Instinctively, she swatted his hands without looking away from his face with a muttered "Language, fedha moja." She noticed his ears perked up at the foreign phrase that rolled off her tongue. She felt at ease with the wolf mutant, partially due to his steady presence through what happened moments before, and something in his demeanour reminded her of Bobby. Young, headstrong and generous in their time and attention to those special to them – protectors in the purest sense. Ororo understood this association as the reason behind their quick familiarity; the pet name had come out before the weather witch could stop herself.

Ororo chuckled at his openly curious face and stepped back. "I should probably head back now, I wouldn't want to take up more of your time, or your team's," the weather witch noted, turning towards the other men in the clearing, several of whom had walked back towards the treeline and downhill towards town. Seth peered back and as he stepped away, Ororo caught the eye of the only other person now in the clearing: Jake. His face seemed carved of ice, with arms crossed over his broad chest and his entire frame held still, tense and almost ready to pounce.

She barely noticed Seth ducking his head, silent communication from the older man prompting him to follow his teammates, not before throwing a wink over his shoulder. Her focus was wholly on the lead wolf, had been since she had become aware of his presence.

"I'm sorry for earlier," the former goddess started, contrite. "It looks like you all had this under control, I didn't know that he…" she trailed off, glancing towards the smouldering ruins of the mutant still sending wisps of dark smoke furling upwards. "I have never heard of his kind before," she concluded.

The Native man did not appear to acknowledge her words. Something shifted in his eyes, traces of the animal spirit within before he marched to stand over her form.

As the silence stretched on, she deflated slightly and turned to take to the air but she again felt a strong, warm hand band around her lower arm. "You should keep your windows closed at night," Jake informed her. Ororo's head snapped up to look at him again. He peered down his long nose at her, continuing "Parasite wasn't kidding today - your scent, it travels for miles." As the Kenyan woman's head spun with the information that he knew she kept her windows open, where I lived, her scent… Jake raised his fingers up to gently hold her neck in a firm grip. She flinched instinctively, until the weather witch realised the man's hand was not tight or squeezing. He was simply holding her there, his calloused thumb resting above her pulse line.

As she watched his handsome face, drawn to the strong lines of his brow, cheekbones and jaw, she could feel him do the same to her. His flint eyes, now edged with a sliver of gold, flitted over her face and hair, cataloguing everything. She felt at his mercy, vulnerable but secure in his hands, and watched as his nostrils flared. His noble head canted downwards, whilst tilting her head back and the wolf leader drew a large inhale into his lungs. He's scenting me! The mutant realised with a slight shock.

"Seth called you 'Roro'. Never heard of it," he cocked his eyebrow, turning his statement into a question. "Ororo," she corrected gently "and it is Swahili, Kenyan, in origin." He narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar pronunciation and his face remained stoic, but his eyes glinted with interest, she thought. "And yours? I heard someone call you Jake?" she questioned. She felt a yearning to know him, she realised, a twinge that sat just under her breast, and ignited whenever he focussed on her.

"Jacob," he rumbled, other hand joining his first one around her neck. Jacob pressed lightly into her collarbone, his thumbs still stroking and sending fire across her skin before lowering his arms and stepping back. "Be vigilant, pititchu, our pack is spread thin as is. And stay out of the forest." Ororo cocked her head at the unfamiliar word, the vowels and sounds rhythmic and foreign to her, but she nodded in agreement at his warning. She suspected the men of the tribe, Quileute Chief Swan had told her, knew more about these rogue mutants or vampires than she did. Being a now seasoned member of the X-men, the wind rider knew when to lead, but also when to listen and submit. So, she would lay low for now.

"I need to contact my family back in New York," she replied. The Kenyan felt a smile flit across her face at the feel of his large hand, now dropped to their sides and stroking her left one, playing with her bangle. Jacob nodded, his face solemn again, and then jerked his head upwards. "Go," the wolf commanded. And the goddess obeyed. Her winds lifted her swiftly and she flew in the direction of her cabin, feeling Jacob's gaze burn into her.

Jacob

His wolf growled in protest to see her fly away. She must stay, Alpha. Jacob felt his wolf's displeasure vibrate through their link, their shared body tensing and relaxing, a reaction to not being in line of sight of the white-haired woman. He shook his head and wrestled his wolf into submission, quieting the storm of his mind.

His nostrils flared as the leech's remains and its stench rolled across the valley, sickly sweet and aggravating to his senses. Pivoting on his heel, the future Chief strode back towards the reservation, his thoughts swirling.

It'd been a decade, to his reckoning since the fateful night that he underwent his transformation. Growing up as a child of his tribe, and son to its Chief, Jacob had grown up listening to stories and tales, legends and myths that wove the tapestry of their peoples' history. The youngest Black had thought them wild even back in his childhood – warriors of renown, wolves, the undead and spirits – and Jacob had simply ignored the deep tones of his father's recantations, the lessons embedded in these stories and had run around bonfires with friends, eating, drinking and laughing to his heart's content.

His naivete had been shattered at the age of 16. He found himself, as a young man barely legal enough to drive, having to step into the shoes of his ancestors, reconciling the glamour and honour of the tales with the true reality, the horror of his situation. A monster, clad in human skin, Jacob's body rent itself in two and shifted to a thing of nightmares – a hunter and killer, designed to claw and slash through any adversary.

Whilst dealing with the growing pains of discovered and lost love, he had found himself playing second fiddle in a story as old as time. And Jacob emerged the loser of that battle, his heart and soul battered and bruised. As his confidence, sense of leadership and duty solidified, his inner light grew dim.

Taking the reins of the pack from Sam, coming into his role on the tribe's council, as protector of his people and child to an ailing father left holes in the young Black's consciousness: his soul taking the brunt of the responsibility and pressure. Jacob had successfully led their pack to defend against the incursion of two covens, battles and war. The Alpha had guided and trained the youngest and least experienced pack members into accepting their duties, whilst helping many of them in their personal lives. Broken families, relationships and break-ups, hormones and school, each man in the pack had to find a tenuous balance for his own sanity and looked to their Alpha and the older members of the pack for direction.

Jacob had borne this with all the grace of his great grandfather, Chief liked to remind him. But the price had been high. The man that emerged was hardened like steel, the wolf and warrior settling into their strength, whilst his human side limped away and hid from the world behind a wall of apathy and distance.

Jacob knew this about himself, self-aware enough to know that this had hurt the people that meant the most to him. But the Alpha could hardly allow himself to care. As long as they are alive. The mantra he told himself over and over.

And now this. As Jacob stalked through the forest of his childhood, towards his home, his mind called forth the image he had been trying to block all afternoon. Foreign and alien and lovely to his eyes, Ororo had blown in like a gale into his life. And he hated her for it. A part of him raged where had she been when he'd gone through all that fuckery? When he'd needed her?! The rational side of him knew that was bullshit – that their separation was no more her fault than his.

Imprint. Wolf had known from the time he had smelt her, vanilla and jasmine notes on the wind when him and his pack had faced down the leech. Jacob the man had acknowledged that his wolf seemed distracted but had pushed that down to face the threat. Then the snowy haired woman had made her dramatic entrance. Ice, winds and snow flurrying around her, she had looked like a goddess.

And Jacob had known, before those sapphire eyes had glanced his way and froze, her full lips parting in surprise and her chest heaving with exertion. Mine, his spirit wolf had howled with joy in the back of his mind and pushed forward to hold, protect, claim. Jacob held back and watched, as his friend and pack member had crowded Ororo, murmuring low to her, voice filled with concern. Her laugh, shocking him with the warm and deep sound of it, and her voice, an accent that he knew now to be Kenyan pulling her vowels and words, making her impeccable English sound like music to him, ringing out to the sensitive ears of the men in the clearing.

He hadn't been able to resist the pull to her, when his men had left them alone. Ororo seemed as compelled with the imprint as he was, her delicate hands had come up to grip his arms when he had scented her, held her. She had seemed uncertain but calm, her lush scent not tinged with the sour notes of fear and she looked settled in his embrace.

Jacob knew she would not understand what was happening between them, why she felt the pull towards him or what it meant. From watching his packmates, the pull affected the woman as much as it did her wolf, neither being able to resist the ancient compulsion. It had caused issues for sure, the issue with his Beta, Emily and Leah a great example of how their lives had been wrecked by this genetic curse.

And that was the crux of the issue. As consuming as the imprint was, as lovely as his moon-woman seemed to him, none of it was real. Scripted love was abhorrent to the Alpha wolf, as bitter to him as being cast aside for a human sized tick. Either way, he was never the first choice. He felt his wolf growl in displeasure again at his trail of thoughts, but the future Chief had learnt long ago how to ignore his other half.

Jake approached his home, built a few years prior, with his thoughts a thousand miles away. Stalking through the den, the dark of evening pressing around him, Jacob made his way to the kitchen for a beer. As the cold alcohol slid down his throat, he gazed out to the land outside his property.

The pack did well today, extra training is helping at least. His mind turned briefly to the recent surge in vampire crossing into Quileute lands. 5 years on from the Cullens leaving Forks, seemingly for good, had meant that leeches, in droves, were navigating the vast forests and mountains of the area surrounding his people's lands. Always trespassing and crossing their territory. And it had every wolf in high alert. The surge in disappearances in the surrounding towns did not help and the Elders were urging Jacob to act.

And now I will have to keep my imprint safe, Jacob lamented to himself. Whatever she was, mutant as she said, it's obvious she's never encountered a cold one before. Talked to it and stood next to it like she was greeting an old friend. That needs to stop.

He vowed to double his efforts when he was on patrol to cover the area she lived in. Jacob would take this responsibility for himself as he could not ask more of his pack, his brothers. Ororo was his now to protect and, as with everything in his life, he would bear that alone.

And this concludes the second chapter! Thank you to all who have come along with me on this journey so far – I've had a wonderful time to write this story.

Again, please let me know your comments/questions/concerns. I bid you adieu.