I liked the feeling of my muscles carrying me swiftly though the forest. I dodged all the trees like I had been doing it my whole life. When I would hear someone catching up with me, I ran faster until I didn't have any more steam.
Then I started to hear the others' thoughts. Most of them were wondering how to get to me, and one was wondering if the oven was on. Paul, I thought.
Yes? His voice said back to me. You won't be able to run very long. You'll run out of steam and crash soon enough.
I ignored him. I ran until I hit another wolf. It was Leah, and she stood her ground. I phased back again, the feeling of imminent death coming and going so quickly. Leah walked back into the forest then came back in a sport bra and sweat pants, and had a pair for me too.
I put the clothes on and looked around. We were alone so far as I could tell.
"Why did you run?" Leah said quietly, her eyes burning through me.
I glared at her. "I don't want this." My voice was blunt, hard as nails.
"Why not? It's great."
"I'm not human?"
"So?"
I turned away from her and walked. I had no idea where I was, so I was just walking. Not long after I left Leah standing there, Sam found me wandering.
We just looked at each other for a long time, then I asked, "How long have you known?"
"About three months." Blunt. To the point.
My jaw dropped. "Three months? You've known for three months and you didn't tell me?" I yelled. "What the fuck, Sam?"
Sam started talking but I thought about the werewolf lineage. The trait was inherited from father to child. So did that mean…?
"Can you tell me who my dad is, Sam?" My voice was like a child's, except I knew I was going to be disappointed.
He hesitated slightly and I saw something flash in his eyes. "Here's the thing. When your dad gave you up, he said he didn't want you to know who he was. He wanted a better life for you than what he could offer."
"So he handed me off to you and you raised me like your own. I know the story, Sam. But if I'm a werewolf, I could go ask Billy about the lineage and could figure the rest out."
"Brook, you won't find the information. There is none. I'm the only one who knew your dad, Brooklyn."
"Then tell me. I won't hunt him down; I won't try to find him. I just want to know." My voice sounded pathetic to my own ears. I pleaded even though I knew he wouldn't tell me.
"No."
"Then get me to the border. I'm going to Emmett's."
"I wouldn't suggest it."
"Why not?"
"When you smell Emmett, you'll want to kill him on instinct. And, being new at this, you may not be able to control yourself."
My mind was blank. Can't see Emmett? Kill Emmett? Or Alice, or Jasper? Emmett…
"I can't see him?"
"No. You'd kill him Brook." His voice hit me like a blunt object, hard and absolute.
"I can control myself."
"You don't know how to make yourself phase, Brook."
"But I can-"
He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, silencing me immediately. "No you can't. I've been a werewolf for years and it's still hard for me to control myself around them. I know how it is."
Anger flashed inside me. "No you don't! You never wanted to be around the Cullens and you know it, so don't lie to me! They've been more of a family to me than everyone else around here! You don't understand how I feel, so stop pretending you do." My voice became softer as I went on, but I was still upset. "The others can be around them… Why can't I?"
He sighed, a heavy gesture. "You can't because you're a direct descendant of the first werewolf. You're more powerful than all of us."
I stared, awestruck, at Sam. This was all coming at me so fast. In one night I learned that 1) I am a werewolf 2) I can't see Emmett, and 3) I was the most powerful in the pack. My legs gave out and I fell to the ground on my butt. I pulled my knees to my chest and laid my head on them feeling myself slip from anger to sadness in a snap. I felt, for the first time in my life, helpless. Useless. Hurt, betrayed… I could come up with more, but I don't really feel like it.
Upset, I begin to cry for the first time in a long time.
After what felt like an eternity, Sam left me sitting there. After an hour or so, Paul was there, standing in front of me in jean-cutoffs and nothing else. I looked up at him, my face streaked with tears, my legs numb from sitting still for so long. I exhale a shaky breath and he hunkers in front of me.
I turn away from him, angry. I feel his gentle hand under my chin, trying to make me look up at him. I resist, and find it much easier than usual. My body is stronger, and I can feel it. He's still stronger than me, though, and he turns my head. I close my eyes, and I can feel his frustration at me for resisting him.
His hand changes then. It goes from being almost rough to being gentle and loving, cupping my face so lightly, like I'm very breakable. I think about opening my eyes, then know better. He would take quick advantage of me quickly and effortlessly. I know that I am facing him now, and keep my eyes shut, ready for verbal abuse or whatever he holds in store for me.
I'm less than surprised when his soft lips cover mine lovingly. I'm more surprised when my lips respond and move with his. His tongue moves into my mouth, almost caressing mine. I reposition myself so I'm kneeling, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me, me closer to him.
He puts his hands on my waist, and he pulls back for a quick breath, which I greatly appreciate. He brings his lips back to mine, and we are much more passionate now, urgent, because I need him. I need someone to keep me here, sane. His hands run up my sides, gently cupping my breasts briefly. He returns his hands to my hips, where they strain me closer to him.
I pull away, stand up and walk three paces away from Paul, leaving him staring into my back, his confusion baking off of him in waves. I pull my arms around myself, finding goose bumps on my exposed torso that had nothing to do with the temperature. I hear him stand up behind me, walks to me, and puts his strong arms around me, pulling me close.
"I hate seeing you so hurt," He said softly, his breath whispering in my ear. His arms tightened around me, and I knew he was being truthful. I knew how he felt towards me, and I knew that he knew that I didn't feel the same. Nonetheless, I placed my arms on top of his and gently squeezed his fingers.
And then he said it. Eight words that made me lose it so quickly it could have killed a small squirrel.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way."
The words cut deeper than anything. I wrenched myself out of his arms and turned to face him. I furrowed my brow and shook my head. When my body started to shake, I closed my eyes and laughed in no humor.
He was confused. "What?"
My rage boiled out from the core of my being like wildfire, and the world around me blurred, as I'm sure my shape did. I opened my eyes and not only was my body shaking, my vision was doing the same.
"You don't care! You aren't sorry!" I screamed at him. My hands were shaking fists at my sides. "If you were sorry, you'd find a way to fix this, instead of trying to hook up with me! I don't like you that way Paul!" The words escaped harshly from my mouth, and Paul's face went quickly from hurt to resentful in a flash.
"Fine. Whatever, Brook. I'll leave you alone. Get your stuff out then." His voice was so hard it hurt. I was done being angry, and I started pleading.
"Paul, I'm sorry. Please don't kick me out. I have no where to go, you know that," As I spoke, Paul walked into the forest where I couldn't see him. I followed him quickly, before he could phase.
I grabbed his upper arm, unable to get a good hold. He twisted out of my grasp and turned to me, his eyes blazing and sad. "What?" He snapped.
I found myself at a loss for words. The look in his eyes was killing me, it made my eyes swell up. I'd already broken him. I couldn't ask him for anything.
"Nothing," I choked out. As I turned to walk away a tear fell silently down my cheek.
"Brook…" He said quietly. Before he could say anything else, I let the heat overtake me. Changing my form, I started running home in the deepest part of the night.
Half-way home, I realized I didn't have a key, and after I phased back, I would be naked. I needed clothes, and there was only one other place in La Push where I kept them.
I went to the northern end of the reservation slowly, starting to tune into the pack's conversations.
Where is she? Where'd she go?
We don't know yet. She hasn't been aware long enough yet to be able to hear us. I could distinguish this as Sam and knew they were wrong. I could hear everything they said, I just didn't respond.
When the house came into view, I circled it silently, looking for cars and listening for people. I could only hear one inside. After looking around and becoming extremely self-conscious, I phased back while I was still in the trees, spitting distance from the back door of the house.
I ran to the door and opened it, it was unlocked. There was a small mudroom, so I closed the door and peaked around the corner. Emily was sitting on the couch with a magazine, not even looking up to the door.
Naked, I made a beeline for the stairs, trying to stay silent. I failed. I hit a squeaky board and there is a pause before Emily yells "Who's there?"
"It's just me, Brook. I need clothes."
She laughed and I heard her get up. "How much do you have on?"
"As much as I was born with." She laughed again and went to her room. She came back out and, respecting my privacy, threw a pair of boxers and a t-shirt into the hallway where I was standing.
I put them on and went to sit with her in the living room.
"So," She said, sighing heavily, "They told you, huh kiddo?" Her scarred, beautiful face was smiling sadly, knowing the answer to her question.
I nodded and said, "Yea, but I'd rather not talk about it. I'm really tired, do you mind if I use the guest room?"
She smiled sweetly. "No, not at all, Brook. You know where it is."
I had stood up when she said no. I was walking away when she said you. I crashed onto the bed and was asleep when my head hit the pillow. I didn't dream, but I knew I didn't want to wake up while I was asleep.