(Updated 8/23/2017)

A/N: Just a few dialogue changes to improve the flow. Next Chapter will be out soon... I promise. Also, I've decided to begin actually responding to some of your reviews, at the end of every chapter, starting now—a new thing I'm trying out. Hopefully, I will continue going through with it as I do enjoy reading reviews.

Chapter 16: New Encounters

Three of the wolves—the leader included—immediately stopped halfway through their arching flight backwards when their bodies smashed into broad trees and dropped to the ground. The other two skidded to a halt along the mossy forest floor, leaving gouges in the soil that marked their path. Either way, it was quite entertaining witnessing the enormous wolves soaring through the air, having completely no idea what happened to them. But I had to be careful—I was still outnumbered.

I waited patiently as they sprang agilely to their feet, albeit with extreme caution now—they stared at me apprehensively while they began to circling me again, like sharks in the water. How was I supposed to escape? They couldn't physically harm me—my shield prevented the possibility—but I seriously doubted they would simply leave me alone if I took off running. Plus, I wasn't exactly inconspicuous if I decided to try and return to town with a pack of wolves trailing behind. That was the crux of my problem—we were at an impasse.

A distraction was necessary then, I mused. And I knew exactly how to create one—injure their leader. Not kill, as the rest of the wolves would never give up chasing me after that, but just enough for them to either split up while I made my escape or cause them to focus their entire attention on their fallen friend. With this plan in mind, I quickly located the black wolf—he was pacing in front of me. I then pushed out my shield so it encapsulated his body.

He whimpered in surprise when the wall shoved him forward gently; the shield became perfectly round once more. A look of comprehension came over his eyes—he knew he was trapped inside my dome—before they hardened into anger. He seemed intelligent enough to understand the gravity of his position—again, I deliberated whether they were werewolves or not.

I smiled widely. "I think you know what's about to happen, don't you?" I asked as I tensed my own body in preparation. He growled savagely in confirmation, also repeated by the pack surrounding us, and we began our deadly dance.

Instinctive snarls and growls erupted constantly as we circled each other within our little bubble; the pattern would be intermittently interjected with one of us suddenly rushing forward, provoking the other into making a mistake. His four other companions slowly revolved outside my dome, their tails swishing nervously, and occasionally, one would try and break through to help their leader to no avail—they would be stopped by the faint, shimmering solid barrier.

This wolf was a good fighter—he always made sure to conserve enough space and time for retreating or maneuvering around—but after probing for a bit to get a sense of how he fought, I knew I was far more experienced. Really, I was just toying with him—the harsh lessons learned from Felix and Demetri flowed through my every step, and I knew I could obliterate him, with or without my personal shield shrouding me.

We gradually began naturally tightening the radius, inch by inch, like a noose, leaving absolutely no margin for error. A part of me thoroughly enjoyed our little confrontation—although I'd been involved in many fights among the Volturi, those often lacked the feeling of a proper, realistic fight, where you're faced with a life and death situation: one misstep could mean a lost appendage or potentially your life. The realization sent a thrill down my spine, reinvigorating me with a renewed sense of attention and wariness.

He stumbled slightly after I feigned pressing forward, and I seized the opportunity: I lunged for his neck. At the last quarter of a second, he turned his shoulder towards me in an effort to protect his vitals—it worked. I sank my teeth into his thick-furred shoulder, and almost instantly gagged. The blood that entered my mouth tasted completely and utterly wrong—it was way too hot, and had an animalistic flavor that repelled any desire in my throat. I couldn't imagine any vampire even thinking about drinking the revolting blood.

He flinched when my teeth pierced his skin and let out an earsplitting, pained half-howl, half-growl. To my surprise, a few of the other wolves howled the same time he did—some in hurt, some in unfiltered fury. He tried throwing me off by violently shaking his entire body, but I stayed attached by grabbing ahold of his velvety fur—the temperature was extremely high, which reminded me of the feeling of touching an open flame—I continued forcing more of my venom into his system.

Ducking the front half of his body, he knocked me away with a violent, sweeping hit of his muzzle, and hastily backed up until he hit the edge of my shield. I somersaulted through the air and landed lithely on the balls of my feet. I smiled at my handiwork—he began to sway unsteadily, like an inebriated human, before shakily collapsing to the ground, resting onto his right side. I hadn't been sure if my venom would induce any effect, as werewolves were immune, so I was extremely pleased with the result. Which also raised the question—if they were not true werewolves, what exactly were they? Beside us, thunderous snarls and growls filled the air, but they barely bothered me. Honestly, I was accustomed to the irritating sounds.

I unhurriedly strolled to where the onyx wolf laid—he was panting heavily, sucking down oxygen in a desperate manner. I had to give him credit where credit was due—he made a valiant attempt to get back on his feet and fight, but failed, falling onto the floor again. Crouching down cautiously, I had to briefly dart backward when he tried biting me; his jaws clicked quietly at the empty air. I pressed a hand onto the side of his muzzle, locking his jaws together to sure he was under control for what I was about to do. My other hand gently scratched the top of his head, imitating the motion of petting a dog perfectly—again, his fur felt like fire as a result of the abnormal temperature, a scorching sensation. The other wolves snarled at the derisive manner, making me grin internally.

"Sorry about this," I murmured into his ear after the feral sounds died down.

Standing up, I positioned my right foot above one of his two hind legs, and casually stepped down. A sickening crunch of the bone snapping reverberated throughout the forest, accompanied by a sudden, prolonged howl of hurt from the black wolf, which was also echoed by the others. Thankfully, no blood spilled—the bone didn't puncture his skin. His body curled up into a loose ball, and his head relaxed against the grass, breathing in and out sharply. Outside, the wolves were wild; they continued to circle my invisible shield, growling viciously and occasionally taking a glimpse to glare—I almost laughed aloud when I saw the trail they had accidentally dug into the ground as a result. I knew they desperately wanted to reach their leader and to injure or kill me.

I coiled my body, preparing to take off, when a familiar, semi-deep voice shouted, catching my attention and causing me to stop short. "Bella!" I glanced to my right, past the silvery-gray wolf that partially obscured my view—three vampires stood motionless near the edge of the clearing. The wolves, having been engrossed with me and my antics, were startled by their presence; they quickly retreated to the opposite side of where the additional vampires were located.

I immediately recognized them as they approached carefully, Carlisle with his hands up to symbolize peace, or at least neutrality—he lowered them once he knew I saw him. "Carlisle? Edward? Emmett? What are you doing here?" I asked, caught off guard.

He paused five feet away with Edward and Emmett at his sides; he glanced at the wolves without surprise in his features, then at the injured ebony one by my feet with obvious concern. His reaction to the wolves—or, lack thereof, to be precise—made me suspicious. Had he met these creatures before? Carlisle then exchanged a look with Edward, who nodded his head once—I had an inkling they were communicating silently, through Edward's gift. "We followed your scent when Alice saw that you disappeared," he explained slowly. "She thought you might have been in trouble."

I frowned, confused. "What?" was all I could manage. What did Carlisle mean when he said 'Alice saw my disappearance'? She was a human—her senses were a million times weaker than mine. It was impossible for her to have seen me running through the woods or in town since I left their house.

"Might as well tell her, Carlisle," Emmett mumbled next to him.

My frown deepened considerably. "Tell me what?" I inquired impatiently, growing irritated with the cloak-and-dagger-esque secrecy surrounding Alice; especially where she got the notion that I was having a problem with something, which turned out to be true—monstrous wolves.

Edward hesitated for a moment. "Alice can see into the future—though her visions are not always reliable or correct," he admitted begrudgingly.

I blinked my eyes twice, my previous frustration replaced with shock. "Are you serious? But she's a human," I protested.

Carlisle nodded his head once in affirmation. "Yes, she is. Her gift is still latent, and based on what you shared with us, appears to be very similar to when you were human. But it's there," he pointed out. I wondered if this was partly the reason why Alice was with the Cullens—her gift, if its manifestation while human was really true, would almost certainly transfer and become amplified once a vampire. And having acquired the ability to foresee the future… her usefulness was limitless.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a forceful, exaggerated huff came from the rust colored wolf, interrupting me—he was staring at the Cullens, then deliberately turned to me, distrust clear in his dark eyes. Whirling around, he darted deep into the forest and around the trunk of a massive cedar, disappearing from our line of sight. He didn't go very far, as I could still perceive the his heartbeat—maybe twenty yards or so away. The remaining three wolves fell back to guard his flanks, warily eyeing us. A peculiar shimmering emanated from behind the tree—it was difficult to describe. It was like the indistinct, soft tinkling of wind chimes, yet much smoother and quieter.

The sound of rustling fabric followed after the shimmering ceased, rubbing against itself and on another surface; a young man emerged wearing only a pair of worn, indescript tan shorts. My eyes widened in shock as I scrutinized him with a sense of fascination—he was a werewolf! He was tall, had pitch-black hair, and intense, dark hazelnut brown eyes. His skin was an unusual russet hue, with muscles protruding from underneath. Glancing up at the thinly cloud-veiled night sky, I realized there was a slight problem—there was no full moon out. How was it possible for him to have transformed into a werewolf?

"Sorry if I'm barging in your little reunion here—" his voice was thick with heavy sarcasm "—but do you know her, Carlisle?" the man addressed bitterly. They did know each other, as I suspected. Though I could tell the human had difficulty getting Carlisle's name out—there was the barest hint of resentment.

"I do. Jacob, this is Bella. Bella, Jacob," Carlisle awkwardly introduced. "She's… an acquaintance," he summed up rather blandly.

Jacob narrowed his eyes at the answer. "That's one hell of an 'acquaintance'," he retorted curtly. I shot him a wink, and he promptly replied with a low growl in his chest, which was odd since he was in his human form—it sounded too wild, too animal-like. "She's got some kind of telekinesis superpower—we couldn't touch her," he accused.

I felt a smirk form on my lips. "Close enough," I chuckled lightly.

Emmett frowned to himself, saddened. "I've always wanted to tangle with a werewolf," he whined with evident longing.

"There's not much to it," I assured with another smile. "And they didn't pose that much of a challenge." Obviously, the wolves disliked that remark; the three snarled mutedly in protest while Jacob glowered at me.

"Stupid leech," he muttered in a cute, derogatory way.

"Leech?" I laughed amusedly. I had to give it to him—his insult was certainly entertaining and true. "I like it." I grinned at him, but stopped when the black wolf beneath me shifted his crumpled posture slightly. The movement failed to escape Carlisle's gaze—he twisted his head to inspect the injured animal closely.

"Bella, would you mind if I had a look at Sam?" he quietly requested. Sam? Was that the name of this wolf? But what interested me more was how Carlisle appeared to know these creatures—they weren't exactly friends, but acknowledged each other's existence. If they turned out to be true werewolves, the same ones Caius despised, then this would be the second time the Cullens had broken a law. Yet, I got the impression that they were something entirely different.

I decided to simply state the obvious. "You know him, don't you Carlisle?" I questioned.

He exchanged another uncertain look with Edward—the latter ducked his head infinitesimally. "Yes, we've met before," he finally answered after a second of silence.

I nodded to myself. "That's what I thought. Go ahead," I granted, stepping away from Sam and easily dissipating my projected shield to allow him access.

"Thank you," he breathed gratefully and began walking toward us. He paused halfway, seeming to remember something. "Edward? Would you please ask Sam if I could look at him, too?"

Edward stood still for a brief moment, distracted. "He said yes," he faithfully relayed. Carlisle, reassured that he had sufficient permission, continued walking. He crouched down over Sam upon reaching him; the wolf growled in warning, but the noise soon died off, having reluctantly accepted Carlisle's offer of aid. The rest of the wolves watched anxiously as he methodically examined his patient. "Sam wants you to know his left leg's broken," Edward added. "And that it isn't healing." Carlisle immediately focused his attention to the lower half of the body, tenderly prodding around with his right hand, which was met by a low, pained whine.

While Carlisle tended to Sam, I decided to speak with Jacob. I wanted to understand the motivation behind why they were attacking vampires—and considering how they're gigantic, supernatural wolves, probably successful in that regard. "So… Jacob," I began with uncertainty, exaggerating the enunciation of his name's two syllables. "Do you always try to kill a vampire you come across?"

His facial expression was stony as he stared at me blankly. "Yes," he replied with a hard edge in his voice, and said nothing after that. So much trying to start a conversation—I raised an eyebrow, giving him a 'well, care to elaborate?' look. "I don't see why I have to tell you anything, Bella," he spat with a sneer.

I jutted my bottom lip out slightly, pouting. "I thought it was common courtesy to answer the person who whipped you their questions," I commented innocently.

His dark brown eyes shone with restrained fury. "Whipped?" he repeated in incredulity.

"I'm sorry, you must've forgot what happened earlier," I reasoned in a gentle, condescending tone. "Perhaps you would enjoy a reminder?" I flashed him an alluring smile, tensing my body for a fight.

He scowled at me, deliberating. "Maybe I would," he responded cockily. Behind him, the remaining wolves snarled savagely in agreement.

But before anything unpleasant could occur, Edward interrupted first, ruining my chances of having fun. "Don't," he warned, looking straight at Jacob—it felt like they were wordlessly communicating.

The eerie silence that followed was broken by Carlisle clearing his throat. "I'm embarrassed to admit I'm not a certified veterinarian, but it is quite clear that his leg's completely fractured," he confirmed, standing up onto his feet. His eyes flickered toward the group of wolves. "I'd recommend Sam shifting back to human so I can properly diagnose him of his injuries."

"Might be difficult if he's surrounded by leeches," noted Jacob, leering at me in particular. "Carlisle's probably fine." He struggled to make his tone lighter.

Considering I had better things to do than to watch Carlisle treat Sam's wounds, that was my cue to leave. "Well, I wish his recovery the best of luck—I'll be on my way again," I informed.

"Wait," Jacob commanded, taking a step forward and held up his hand to symbolically stop me. "Where do you think you're going?"

This boy was starting to piss me off—I bit back a growl at his rude tone. "Excuse me?" Did he honestly believe that he had the power to order me around? I was beginning to regret not choosing to break his bones.

"I know you were trying to go to La Push, and I wanna to know why," claimed Jacob, folding his arms across his chest in a masculine display of impressive muscles. His overall posture radiated an intimidating attitude, but failed to elicit the intended reaction from me.

I narrowed my eyes. "That's none of your business," I shot back. Why was I arguing with this brute?

"Not a chance, bloodsucker. La Push is my business," he countered. This tidbit of information interested me. It seemed that I was correct—the wolves were chasing me away from La Push. How curious, were they purposely protecting their town from vampires? Was that their home?

I tilted my head to the side. "How did you know I was trying to go to La Push?"

He rolled his dark eyes. "S'not that hard. Once we heard you, we realized you were headed straight toward the rez. Now quit stalling and tell me why," he demanded again.

I mirrored his roll of the eyes with my own—it was clear he wasn't giving up. I doubted he would let me leave alone, regardless. A small part of me admired his persistence, but as of right now, I was mostly annoyed. "If you must know, I was heading for La Push to find a human that lives there. From what I've found, his name's William Black, but is also known as Billy Black," I explained with a sigh. So much for trying to remain inconspicuous—here I was, telling a werewolf I'd just met my plans.

It was unnerving how quickly everyone became suddenly silent. Alarmed, I glanced around in an attempt to understand why, but failed to gather the reason. All except Jacob wore expressions of shock and recognition—Jacob's was hostile and unequivocally angry. The only logical explanation I could come up with was that both the Cullens and the wolves knew Billy, which I admit, had me intrigued. Was he even human? Otherwise, how did these two entirely dissimilar groups appear to recognize him?

"What do you want with Billy?" Jacob ordered, his voice fallen completely flat.

I ignored his menacing tone. "It's something strictly between him and myself."

Jacob remained adamant in his quest to keep glaring me down. "I don't care," he replied indifferently, but then his expression softened ever so slightly. "He's my father."

"He's your father?" I clarified, stunned. What were the chances I would meet the son of the human I was seeking? Also, since Jacob was a werewolf, did that mean Billy was one as well? That would explain how the wolves and the Cullens seemed to know him.

"Yes," was his single, wary reply.

A resigned sigh escaped from my lips. There was no point—or possibility—in keeping my purpose here a secret. Besides, I could always slaughter all the witnesses—mainly the werewolves, the Cullens I knew wouldn't dare betray me—should the need arise. "I only wished to ask him a few questions regarding another human—if he even remembers," I admitted.

Jacob was about to speak again when he was interrupted by a weak, yet exaggerated cough that originated from Carlisle. "If you don't mind, Jacob, I'd like your permission to cross the border so I may bring Sam back to his house. I will also need to retrieve my bag of medical supplies from my own home, so this may be done without anyone noticing the extent of his injuries," he notified gravely.

The corners of Jacob's mouth turned down. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I believe the combination of venom in his system coupled with his broken leg is causing him to come in and out of consciousness—he's incoherent," Carlisle elucidated.

Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, and let out a hushed sigh. "I hate being in charge," he muttered quietly to himself. "Okay. Jared, Paul—go with Carlisle to Sam's and drop him off. Then one of you watch him while the other goes with Carlisle as he gets his stuff and comes back. Keep Emily away as long as you can." The two wolves that were mentioned whined in protest; realistically, the one with dark gray fur growled. "Quit complaining and go," Jacob ordered.

Undeterred his enormous size, Carlisle scooped Sam up rather easily into his arms, being careful not to accidentally strain the injury any further. Once he ensured Paul and Jared were by his side, they took off into the woods to the southwest, their footfalls becoming more faint with each passing second. Only two wolves remained—Jacob and the dull-gray, black-spotted one—the even numbers made both suddenly nervous.

"Edward," I addressed, examining him. He had been watching Carlisle depart, too. "Can you tell Alice I'd love to meet with her again, hopefully sometime soon?" I dismissed politely with a smile.

He bowed his bronze-covered head. "Of course," he replied.

My smile grew wider. "Thank you." Edward quickly disappeared southeast not a second later—he was rather fast for a vampire. I waited a couple more seconds, allowing him to distance himself from us, before I turned to face Jacob. "You were saying before?"

He hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "I was going to suggest that if we guard you during your whole visit to La Push, you'd be allowed in. But that sounds like a very stupid idea, even by my standards—my ancestors would hamstring me, and my brothers too, if they found out I purposely let a vampire on our lands." He rolled his eyes.

My eyebrows tugged together in confusion. "I thought Carlisle already had permission? That's a bit of a double-standard, don't you think?" I pointed out.

He frowned at me. "That's… different. Carlisle doesn't hunt people, unlike you. And out of all the Cullens—" his face twisted with mild detestation at the name "—he's the one I trust most."

As much as I loathed taking orders from this particular werewolf, I had to admit there was no way for me to enter La Push without drawing attention if I didn't have their consent. While the endeavor of defeating the wolves would be easy—I already took out their leader—I was skeptical the actual battle would be as inconspicuous as it had been now, where we were surrounded by miles of relatively empty forest.

I pouted back. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fair," he mocked.

"I promise I won't kill anyone," I vowed, rolling my eyes in exasperation. "I would never I'm not thirsty anyway," I mumbled under my breath, ignoring the murderous glare he sent my way. I wondered if he knew exactly how powerless he'd be if he tried to stop me.

After a minute of inner deliberation, he finally spoke. "Fine," he huffed, aggravated. "But only because Carlisle seems to trust you."

I shrugged my shoulders. "What's not to trust?" I asked innocently. Jacob opened his mouth to begin listing his reasons—which I had no doubt there would be plenty, in his eyes at least—but I hurriedly stopped him before he could enunciate even the first syllable. "That was rhetorical, by the way," I added, rolling my eyes again.

"Just a few things first, bloodsucker. If you even look at a human weirdly, we will take you down. Don't talk to anyone else besides us. And when we reach my dad, I'll do the talking first," he instructed with a bit of steel.

I gestured for him to lead the way.

The spotted gray wolf trotted over while Jacob ducked behind another large tree again, and I could hear him changing out of his shorts. The unique twinkling effect lasted only a brief second before it was replaced with heavy breathing and footsteps as Jacob stepped into view.

"Cool," I mumbled. He snorted through his nose loudly, then glanced into the dark forest, waiting. "Lead the way."

Noiselessly, he departed with stunning speed, and I trailed casually behind a few feet. I could've comfortably raced and overtaken him, since I was faster than the average vampire, but I didn't want to risk provoking Jacob anymore than necessary—though it definitely would've been entertaining. I had a impression Jacob instructed the other wolf to protect his back because he never ran past me; it was a convoy of sorts, where I was the prisoner that was being escorted by prison guards.

The majority of the trip was quiet, and dare I say tranquil. It was a pleasant, peaceful change of pace, despite its brevity, like most enjoyable things in life. We were fast approaching the outskirts of La Push, and as a result, Jacob began slowing down. He finally stopped forty yards away from the closest street before him and the gray wolf both sidestepped in front of Douglas fir, cutting off my view so they felt comfortable enough to transform. It was pretty ridiculous, all things considered—vampire-slaying werewolves that were too embarrassed—or too polite, but I seriously doubted that was the case—to change in front of a female. Jacob appeared with what I assumed to be the human version of the spotted gray wolf. He was a little bit shorter than Jacob, but still abnormally tall; his eyes were a gentle chestnut brown, and had the same russet skin and black ink hair.

I eyed pointedly at the boy beside him. "What's your name?" I inquired politely, inquisitive.

He reciprocated the same polite tone. "Embry," he replied, though his rough voice revealed a slight edge to it—nervousness, most likely.

I nodded, pairing up the memory of him in his wolf form to his name and human face. "Pleasure to meet you," I smiled genuinely. Though it was only minutes ago that these werewolves tried to kill me, I was fascinated by them—to an extent. While in their human form, I found them to be somewhat bearable, despite the revolting smell they gave off, compared to their wolf counterparts.

Jacob somehow managed a dubious-looking roll of his dark eyes. "Good one, parasite. C'mon, get moving," he urged rudely.

As difficult as it was, I held back the growl that threatened to escape from my chest. Instead, I settled for glowering at him as lightly as I could when I suddenly swore internally at myself for almost forgetting a crucial detail—since I planned on speaking with a human, and perhaps unexpectedly crossing by one, I needed to disguise my eyes. "Wait," I instructed, mirroring his authoritative tone of voice, only a hundred times better. "Give me one second." I'd let my guard down, which honestly surprised me. I was usually prepared for these types of things—interacting with humans. Maybe I felt a little too comfortable—or more likely, too cocky—amongst the werewolves, which threw me off.

Jacob raised an eyebrow at me, his expression conveying immediate suspicion. "Why?" he demanded, stomping through the ferns to reach where I stood.

"Oh, calm down," I muttered, mildly annoyed, as I swung my backpack smoothly onto the soft, mossy forest floor and crouched down. Unzipping part of a side compartment, I fished out a small circular container and swiftly unscrewed the two caps on the top. Reminding myself not to blink, I pressed the rigid, midnight blue lenses against my eyeball one after another, and shoved the case back into my pack. Realistically, I figured I really didn't need to blink—for now, anyway—out of irritation for the things. It was only when I would meet Billy that I'd begin enacting my human facade.

Glancing up when I heard a soft snort to Jacob staring at me in scathing amusement, I reciprocated with another glare. "Need a way to hide your monstrous, vampy appearance, huh? Figures," he chuckled huskily.

I shrugged my shoulders when I straightened out again, looping my arms through the backpack's shoulder straps, ensuring it was held securely to my back. "I'll have you know that lots of humans have told me I look beautiful. Of course, this was usually before I killed them, but regardless, it's the thought that counts," I smirked, nonchalant. I knew this would anger him; he seemed extremely devoted to the protection of people.

The humor was instantly wiped from his face like flicking off a light switch, and was instead replaced with fury, as expected—I shot him a quick wink. "Life-sucking leech," Jacob growled in response.

"Keep 'em coming," I said with a grin. I motioned toward the empty street partially visible past the dense tree branches. "After you."

Ignoring me, Jacob unclenched his fists while exhaling forcefully through his nose, and after a pause, began trekking over various tree roots and bushes, heading toward the cracked concrete sidewalk a couple dozen feet away.

I trailed silently behind, my senses ranging outwards as a precaution while we walked along, the starlit sky partially lightening due to the inevitable sunrise, listening for anything out of the ordinary. I tried not to breathe too often because of the disgusting scent that originated from both werewolves—the dripping wet dog smell was even worse now that I was standing right next to them. There hadn't been too much wind during the confrontation, but now that we were in an open street, their scents blew around freely—swirling right into my face.

A couple of times, I would detect human heartbeats, but they were muffled—safely hidden either inside a house or car. Thankfully, no humans crossed paths with me—I really didn't want the temptation or to set off the wolves.

Jacob abruptly turned toward a small house coated with a faded, chipping red paint, cutting across the abundantly green lawn. He was visibly agitated—his back was stiff and his fists were balled up again, tendons straining under his skin, as he walked up to the shoddy wooden door and knocked twice. The sound of rubber tires on hardwood surprised me—I'd been expecting human footsteps.

The door swung backwards, and sitting between the doorway was an old man in a wheelchair. He looked like an older, carbon copy version of Jacob—though there were a few physical differences. His skin had the similar russet color, but marginally darker and wrinkled with age. A few strands of hair had been converted into white at the root within a sea of straight black, and he wore extremely dark brown eyes—again, almost indistinguishable to Jacob's, except his were weary, yet also alert. He inspected Jacob first, then Embry, before resting his gaze at me. What unnerved me was his unapparent fear, like he knew exactly who I really was the moment he saw me.

A/N: Hope I'm doing this right...

Elphaba Cullen—Glad you picked up on that! Personally, I find the whole instantaneous attraction and "You're my mate now" thing, well, boring—and overdone. I wanted it to be a bit more subtle—Bella doesn't understand why she feels a slight attraction to someone she'd just met, but it's there.

theresa23—Thank you for the kind words! Life is overwhelming, but exciting!

The Alpha 100—Perfectly understandable... I figured some people might be excited after all my inactivity. Sorry about that, but the next chapter is coming out very soon!