A/N: Ahh, yes. Finally, finally, FINALLY, the long-awaited continuation is here. Hopefully, I will meet your expectations after such a long wait. As always, be on the lookout for grammatical errors—I really should've proofread more—and let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter!

(Posted 8/24/2017)

Chapter 17: Revelations

The sudden jolt to his heart rate indicated his surprise, yet the elderly man—who I assumed was Billy, since he and Jacob had the same recognizable physical traits—wordlessly wheeled himself back into the house. I'd been half-expecting him to at least make some kind of remark, mostly because of Jacob.

"Don't do anything stupid," the aforementioned boy warned under his breath, the words dangerously even with deadly intent, when he stepped past me and went inside.

"I won't," I promised in a hushed whisper as I entered the warm, cozy house. Like I was going to kill the man who may know my human father, I thought with a roll of my eyes.

Immediately, my senses were assaulted by the lingering scent of human blood, promoting the welling of venom in my mouth. I wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse—the tempting aroma was marred by the familiar repulsive, animalistic smell that wafted in the atmosphere as a result of my escorts that quickly followed. Thankfully, the door was kept open, allowing a thin, steady stream of clean air in.

"Can I help you?" the old man said gruffly when he had wheeled himself to the kitchen.

I stopped beside what seemed to be the living room, which housed a black antique television and worn down, dirtied brown sofa. "Are you Billy?" I asked carefully. Behind me, Jacob and Embry took their respective attentive positions, leaning against the chipped pale, yellowing wall. I could almost feel their stares burning a hole in the back of my head.

His expression was decidedly wary when he slowly spun around to face me. "My name is Billy Black, if that's who you're searching for," he answered, the intonation of his words not revealing any major emotions.

"Were you friends with a man named Charlie? Charlie Swan?" I continued, my optimism continuing to grow. I had to remind myself to keep my voice soft and steady since I was speaking to a human—I couldn't reveal my true identity. Although he was assuredly related to Jacob, who appeared to have occasionally fought my kind before, I wasn't certain if his father knew what his son's extracurricular activities entailed.

His face revealed a mix of both surprise and recognition, along with faint sadness—his eyes narrowed ever so slightly in response. "Yes, I was. He passed away a long time ago, along with his wife," he replied, full of remorse. "Why do you want to know?" His voice hardened ever so slightly.

I took a much needed breath to steady myself, ignoring the painful flash the action caused to my throat. I might as well inform him who I was related to human-wise—it was pointless keeping it a secret if I wished to uncover any information about my parents. Still, it was difficult to get the words out, for some odd reason. "I was his daughter. I'm Isabella Swan—at least, I used to be," I hesitantly revealed.

Billy's heart stuttered for a beat or two, interrupting his otherwise steady rhythm, and jumped a couple beats faster, causing Jacob to glance at him with worry. A prolonged silence filled the room, save for the three individual heartbeats. "You're his daughter?" Billy echoed doubtfully after he calmed back down. His reaction didn't really surprise me; after all, I had just admitted to being the daughter of his old, dead friend. "You're… Isabella Swan?" He stated again, still in shock.

I could only manage nod my head in confirmation.

He stared at me, his extremely dark brown irises unexpectedly becoming emotionless. "I remembered seeing you on the news—they said that it was a home abduction, and that the police didn't have any solid leads. And I remembered thinking you had the worst luck in the world—your parents died, then you were kidnapped—but you don't exactly need help anymore, do you? Especially mine." His tone hinted at something, though I couldn't determine exactly what.

I tilted my head to the right, scrutinizing him closely. "What's that supposed to mean?" I inquired politely, keeping my voice smooth and even.

Billy held up his hands to stop Jacob when he snarled warningly, having heard the hidden threat within my words. "Nothing… only you're a vampire, aren't you?" he questioned cautiously.

Stiffening immediately, I frowned, pursing my lips slightly. "How'd you figure that out?" I questioned, perplexed—though I had a nagging suspicion he knew, given his paternal relationship to Jacob.

Billy chuckled a low, humorless laugh. I, on the other hand, did not find this amusing. If Aro discovered humans were aware vampires existed in this part of the region, he wouldn't hesitate for a second to send the Guard to cleanse those that knew. And I would most certainly help—the law was of the utmost importance.

"Isabella, generations of certain Quileute members have always defended our tribe against the Cold Ones. We are taught through legends and experience on how to defeat them and recognize the signs—paleness, eye color, speed and strength. So, I was able to easily figure out that you are, indeed, a Cold One," he explained in a serious demeanor.

My frown deepened. Cold One? Was that their terminology for a vampire? At least it was accurate, compared to typical human mythology. I also briefly wondered how many vampires they've successfully killed in their endeavors to protect their 'tribe'. And given the fact how Jacob and his gang freely chased me around without fear of repercussions until I'd retaliated, it was safe to assume their teeth was more than capable of piercing my skin. But definitely not my shield—the thought made me smile.

"The werewolves defend your tribe, don't they?" I guessed.

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Werewolves?" Billy reiterated, completely mystified, as he rolled himself away from the kitchen and stopped a few feet in front of me—did he not know what his son was? His reaction felt wrong; it was though he'd never heard the word before, much less being applied to his son. I gazed pointedly at Jacob and Embry—both of which had edged closer to where I stood, tightening the limited distance between us.

Jacob snorted derisively through his nose, causing me to focus on him with amusement. "Probably 'cause we're not werewolves. We don't transform whenever there's a full moon out or eat people—we protect them from you," he sneered with a roll of his eyes.

I glared at him for a second or so before relaxing—as much as I desired to teach him a lesson in manners, it wouldn't bode well for his father to be caught in the fray; I still needed answers. "So instead of werewolves, you're a creature that coincidentally looks and morphs into a wolf?" I clarified, frowning again. However, this confirmed the hunch I had that they weren't since the beginning—their characteristics did not correlate perfectly to the ones Caius described to me in the past. They didn't require a full moon to change, ran in what appeared to be a structured pack, and were self aware of their capabilities, whereas almost the entirety of the werewolf population were completely oblivious.

"Yeah. We're…." Jacob trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together in shallow contemplation. "Shapeshifters," he finally found.

"Shapeshifters," I muttered, shaking my head in astonishment. What were the freaking odds that I'd meet a coven of vampires and a posse of werewolves, all centered around the insignificant, little town where my father grew up? Seriously, the statistics had to have been around one in several hundred million or to that effect. On the other hand, they weren't really true werewolves but something entirely different, so that chalks up another couple million.

I knew it was improper to categorize them as werewolves, but it was probably easier to identify them as such instead of calling them 'shapeshifters that coincidentally look like enormous, monstrous werewolves'—the description lacked a certain delicate je ne sais quoi; it didn't exactly roll off the tongue. Fate—or my luck, rather—had an infuriating way of making my life a bit more interesting.

What had me worried in the back of my mind, however, was the risk of exposure. If Billy was able to easily recognize my being a vampire, then were there other humans like him in this town? Were they teaching ordinary people about us? These pressing questions demanded immediate answers, and unfortunately, I had to hold off my own about my parents until they were.

"How many people know about all of this?" I probed. I wasn't sure what my expression was, but Billy must have picked up on the change of my tone to seriousness because his heart rate increased a few additional beats. I tried to even it out for the sake of being professional—it was all Volturi business now.

"About all of what?" he said, perplexed.

"Cold On—vampires," I corrected myself. "Your shapeshifters." I paused. "If humans suspect the Cullens are not who they're pretending to be."

"Why do you care?" Jacob interjected as Billy opened his mouth to respond, eliciting a low growl from myself. Clearly, he didn't understand the severity of his situation.

I glowered at Jacob, irritated. "If a human knows of our existence, of vampires, it is the law and our duty to silence them. To prevent them from revealing the secret to others. And taking into account how quickly your father deduced who I really am…." I trailed off.

Violent tremors rippled all over Jacob's body, vibrating him like a tuning fork as he pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against. I automatically backed away, readying myself for a fight; my muscles tensed, and I double checked the impenetrable layer I had around on me. I almost slipped into a crouch, but I fought against the instinct—it only would've worsened Jacob's preliminary reaction.

"Jacob! Calm down," Billy shouted sharply, rolling himself closer to the living room, facing toward where Jacob was standing.

I briefly imagined what would happen if Jacob transformed in this tiny house—and cringed internally. Clearly, Billy would be seriously injured—killed, even—in the ensuing fight to defend myself; and if that were to happen, considering I haven't had a chance to ask him the rest of my questions, it was in my best interest to protect him. With a flick of my wrist, I threw out an invisible sphere from myself that quickly reached Billy and hovered in the air right above his lap. I flexed my fingers outward, and it followed my orders; the bubble allowed Billy to pass through as it expanded like a latex balloon, surrounding him in a facet of my physical shield. The entire process only a mere thirty milliseconds from decision to having him safeguarded, which pleased me. Thankfully, no one noticed the small movement.

"You will not touch him." Jacob quivered where he stood, his purposefully flat voice designed to be intimidating—but not to me.

"You should probably go outside, Jacob," I suggested helpfully, unperturbed. "I don't think your father would fare well if you shifted inside."

"I'm not going to hurt my own dad," he argued, half of the sentence coming out in a jumbled string of snarls. Another powerful shudder rocked his body forcefully and he deliberately exhaled, a fruitless attempt to control himself.

"Well, I'm not going to either," I hissed in frustration. How many times had I made it clear I wasn't looking to harm him? "He's worth more to me alive than you."

Embry placed a large, also trembling hand on Jacob's shoulder, both to restrain and calm him down. "Jake—I got this, bro. Just come back after you cool off. I swear she won't do anything to your father or she'll regret it," he vowed. Without a word, Jacob stormed past Embry and through the open doorway, swinging around to the backyard. The strange shimmering sound of him transforming into a wolf echoed soon after, and I could hear him running toward the woods. Reassured, I quickly dissolved the shield encapsulating Billy.

The tension slowly bled from the air and after a moment of silence, Billy spoke again, anxious this time, as he twisted to placate me. "That won't be necessary, Isabella. The vast majority of Quileutes think of the legends as what they are—only myths and legends." He sighed wearily. "The last time I saw a wolf transform in front of my eyes, other than Jacob, was my grandfather, when I was a young boy. And since then, I have been more aware of the supernatural that exists in this world."

"What if you decide to share your supernatural experiences and knowledge with other humans?" I countered, folding my arms across my chest.

Billy let out a small, tired laugh. "Who's going to believe me? Most people nowadays think I'm a superstitious old man. The same Quileute legends have been told for generations past, and now, it seems like only the elders still consider it to be true," his voice saddening near the end.

I frowned to myself. "And what about the shapeshifters?"

He shook his head. "No. They are forbidden to tell anyone else what they are, and what they do." His eyes flickered up to mine. "Much like yourself."

Despite the obvious liability at hand of leaving them alive, I had to give credit where credit was due: the fact that the Volturi—and other vampires for that matter—were completely oblivious to their existence. Otherwise, Aro would have warned me prior to taking my trip here. And if the wolves were capable of remaining hidden from their radar for 'generations,' it was a safe enough bet to make that they could continue to do so—probably because the wolves kill any vampire that encroached their lands, as alluded to by Jacob. Which, by the way, I wasn't too sure how I felt about that.

Caius had always reveled in the success of pushing werewolves to the brink of extinction, and it was justified; they were our 'natural enemies,' as he'd put it, competing for our food source and real contenders in a one-on-one fight. Yet here was a pack of werewolf-like creatures, who were more than capable of defeating vampires. Would it be right leaving them alive, targeting the next unsuspecting victim? I decided it wasn't really my call to make; besides, Caius and Aro would both be interested to hear about them when I returned. They weren't true werewolves anyway, but a different species that took on similar characteristics.

I realized I'd turned into a statue while deliberating, perfectly motionless in the middle of the living room—since I didn't feel any fatigue, I could've stayed this way for several more hours. I shifted my weight onto one of my legs—I always forgot to feign how a human constantly fidgets. With a resigned sigh, I dropped my arms and combed back my hair with my right hand, refocusing my attention to Billy. "I suppose, for the time being, there's no need for intervention. So long as you keep our secret within your tribe to 'myths and legends,' obviously," I finally acquiesced.

Billy exhaled a small sigh of relief. "Thank you. And please keep ours to yourself, too," he requested. "We can't have stories circulating about large wolves running around in the forest."

I chuckled darkly once. "Of course," I agreed, the only exception being my family.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you become a… Cold One?" He had extreme difficulty getting the two words out.

I frowned to myself. "It's… difficult to explain—and a long story," I added.

"Try," a deep, recognizable voice spoke suddenly, startling me. My head whipped to the source, and saw Jacob standing inbetween the doorway, his arms folded tightly across his chest. They still trembled a little, but it was nothing compared to the previous magnitude. I'd been so engrossed in my conversation with Billy that I didn't notice him approaching.

I shook my head. "Like I said, it's a long story," I reiterated as Jacob stepped into the house, taking his old spot beside Embry, who'd been silent all this time except for his beating heart. "And I've been sidetracked since my arrival," I pointed out.

Jacob rolled his eyes at me, but conceded. "Fine." Wise of him.

"What would you like to know?" Billy inquired respectfully, though still unmistakably wary.

"I want to learn more about my parents. I can't recall much—only a few basic details."

He nodded his head, and his accelerated heart finally began showing signs of returning back to normal.

I had an entire mental list of questions prepared—an understatement in which mere words could not do it justice, considering I've been waiting for this moment ever since my desire to discover my short human history. It was painful holding back the tidal wave of curiosity that constantly threatened to overspill. "What was he like? His personality, I mean," I began, only the barest hint of interest present. I never fully understood who my father was—to me, he was purely a biological ghost, an empty vessel of a person; I didn't know anything about him that could fill that missing informational void.

"He was… a good man," Billy succinctly summed up. He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts. "Charlie believed in things like honesty, courage, and kindness. That's part of the reason why he became a cop. He was funny. He was also quiet, but that was usually when he was alone and not with… Renée," he finished, adding a hint of uncertainty toward the end.

A breath I did not realize I'd been holding suddenly exhaled softly. There was a strange sensation of relief running through my body upon hearing these details about my father. Reassuring, somehow, that my faded perception and memories of him were not entirely incorrect—he wasn't a crazed serial killer or anything remotely close to that, but a normal person. It was an irrational fear, but one that could not be avoided. Thankfully, the outcome made me feel better about myself—the mysteries shrouding my past began to fade away.

My eyebrows pulled together. "Who's Renée?" I asked, intrigued.

"She was your mother."

"Renée?" I repeated, thrown aback. It wasn't a name I was expecting at all. 'Charlie' was common enough for men, but 'Renée' was completely the opposite. "Really? What was she like, too?" Billy's reaction surprised me—his eyes narrowed dramatically and he frowned to himself slightly. I studied at him curiously, but he chose to say nothing.

"She was… flighty," Billy admitted cautiously, peering up at me. "Renée liked having fun without taking part of the necessary responsibilities that came with it. Don't get me wrong, she wised up when you were born—but she was never one for staying still."

I frowned, though not directly at anyone in particular, just coming to terms with the new information. It appeared that Charlie and Renée were somewhat opposites of each other—Charlie preferred stability, while Renée sought new, different experiences. And for whatever reason, it seemed like Billy had a grudge against Renée—was it a dislike for her 'flighty' behavior?

But rather than dwelling on past grievances, I soon voiced another question. "What did my father and mother look like?"

"Charlie had… brown curly hair and eyes, and he was around average height and build. Renée was shorter—around your height—had brown hair like Charlie, but blue eyes instead," he answered slowly.

The vagueness of their description was infuriating. How was I supposed to visualize my parents with nothing to go on but minimal details—if that was even considered the bare amount. "Do you have any pictures of them?" I questioned, suppressing the annoyance I felt from my voice—I knew it was a long shot, but it would be sort of nice to be able to actually see what my parents physically resembled.

But, as I expected, Billy shook his head. "No, I don't," he replied, regret evident in his tone. "They did have a house in Forks before Charlie moved away. I don't think anyone lives there anymore, after the town learned about what happened to them. Out of respect, I believe." I quickly made a mental reminder to ask for directions to the house so I would be able to search it.

This was another crucial fact I wanted to uncover: the reason why Charlie and Renée—it was difficult getting used to saying her name—ultimately decided to move from Forks to Phoenix. "Why did they move?" I pressed.

Billy let out a tired sigh, and glanced out the dirtied window. "Charlie got an offer to be a cop in the city—he never said why, but I'm sure he took it so he could provide a better living for you and Renée. The pay was a lot higher there, that's for sure. And I don't think Renée wanted to raise you in Forks, either."

I arched an eyebrow upward. "Why not?"

His gaze returned. "Charlie brought it up once when we were together. He told me about how Renée was feeling sad, that he didn't know what to do. I eventually deduced that Renée hated Forks. That's why I convinced him to take the job."

My body suddenly froze from surprise. "What?" I blurted out in disbelief. My outburst alarmed Billy, making Jacob and Embry uneasy; they shuffled their feet as if they were simply stretching out a sleepy leg, but carefully inched closer to where I was. If my human parents hadn't moved to Phoenix, then they would be alive today. Yet, according to Billy, he was the person who persuaded my father to move away.

I wasn't certain how I felt about this newfound revelation.

On one hand, I'd longed for the experiences of mundane milestones and daily routines that was normal human life: making new friends, enjoying family interactions, graduating from various institutions of education, earning a degree and job, falling in love and potentially even starting a family. All of these achievements were unjustly stripped away from me. Technically, you could argue that I was still capable of obtaining a few of these goals, only I wouldn't be human while I did it. But on the other hand, if my parents hadn't been killed, I would have never met Demetri and Felix, Aro and the subsequent holistic Volturi. I would have never been thrust into—nor joined—the secretive, mythical world of vampires.

The two wolves stole another couple of inches—I could almost touch the heat radiating off their massive bodies. "I'm fine," I snapped, causing them to take an involuntary step backwards. I inhaled as steadily as I could, wincing as the tortuous multitude of delicious and disgusting scents hit me, and unclenched my hands—I wasn't aware they were balled up to begin with. "I'm fine," I reassured, more for Jacob and Embry's benefit than not.

So what if Billy had convinced Charlie to relocate, which ultimately got them both killed? I couldn't change the outcome of the past—and, to be perfectly honest, I wasn't so sure I wanted to. The results of a resounding chain reaction all relied on the death of my parents—without it, I wouldn't have met my new family, home or friends. It was ridiculous, idiotic to impose any sort of blame onto Billy—he thought he was doing the right thing, helping his friend. And, I argued, it was impossible for him to predict—fathom, even—that the advice he'd give would have such devastating consequences.

"Forgive me, I… wasn't prepared for that."

An expression I wasn't expecting crossed his face—sympathy. "I'm sorry." His tired voice sounded like he was apologizing for everything—everything that'd happened to me.

I shook my head. "What's done is done. It's all in the past now, anyway." A hushed sigh escaped my lips. "I suppose that's all the questions I have right now. Thank you, Billy," I murmured gratefully.

There was something about Billy that you had to respect. Sure, he was being protected by his brute of a son, yet despite all that, he'd let me inside his home knowing beforehand that I was a vampire. He'd managed an incredible feat of convincing me why I didn't need to wipe out the town. And after all that, he still answered my questions without hesitation. He had my utmost respect—which was something exceptionally difficult to earn.

For the first time since we'd met, he smiled, albeit a small one. "You're welcome, Isabella. Although, I ask that you do not return to La Push considering the circumstances of… what you are," he carefully requested.

"I can't promise you anything, but I'll try. If I do decide to come back for a visit, I'll let someone know," I informed with a grin. The idea of prohibiting someplace I wanted to go was downright hilarious and absurd; however, I didn't want to ruin whatever shaky relationship I've developed with the wolves, if any.

Billy sighed reluctantly in defeat. "I guess that's the best I can hope for," he admitted.

I started for the front door, but paused halfway, remembering something. "I've been meaning to ask—do you remember where Charlie and Renée's old house was?"

This was definitely on my next agenda—visiting my old home. For one, solely because my curiosity demanded it, but also to determine whether or not to buy the property itself. It would be nice to own the house of my brief human childhood, and I doubted Aro would have any objections to more real estate—a solid portion of our wealth came from the sheer amount of land holdings within our possession. Another added benefit was the possibility of turning it into a safe house—the reasonably close proximity to Seattle, coupled with the sparsely populated town where it was actually located, meant Heidi could stay overnights to fish for humans. Plus, I knew she loved any reason to buy—and store—more clothes, mainly for her trips.

Billy thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. Near the end of town, I believe."

"Thank you." I ducked my head and resumed walking, the hardwood floor replaced by gray concrete indicating when I was finally outside. I sighed in relief after I'd cleared my lungs of the mixed human and werewolf scents, breathing in the slightly wet, clean air. The difference was unbelievable—I felt calmer and much more controlled.

Morning had already passed, and it was now midday; the sun, thankfully, still safely hidden by a thick curtain of ever-darkening gray clouds. I frowned to myself—a storm was on its way. The sound of two thudding hearts pulled me from my distracted state, and I instantly located where it was coming from—behind the house, approaching us with three sets of footsteps. Two were the louder impacts that I'd associated to paws against soil, while the other was the lighter steps of vampire. I stood patiently on the lawn when they'd reached the house, and I was joined by Jacob and Embry. A recognizable shimmering effect echoed through the cool air before they finally rounded the house. Of course, they weren't wolves any longer, as two unfamiliar guys in black shorts—Jared and Paul, only I didn't know which one was which—appeared alongside Carlisle.

I was about to greet him when I caught a hate-filled glare from one of the escorts—this again? It was starting to annoy me. He was tall and muscular—no surprise there—and his raven-colored hair was cropped short, a rough buzzcut. His hands were tight fists, the large, white knuckles standing out from underneath his russet-hued skin. Seriously, what was up with the fist-clenching? Were they always searching for someone to punch? Or did they have unresolved anger issues? Speaking of which, it seemed like he was struggling to contain himself from transforming into his wolf-form and fighting me—though the idea of a rematch was tempting.

I raised an eyebrow, shooting him a questioning look that clearly conveyed I was doubting his mental and emotional stability. "Is there something I can help you with?" I coaxed sweetly.

He snarled not-so-discreetly at me, instantly drawing the attention of everyone around him, and his hands began quivering. My lips curved upward into an inviting smile as I continued to egg him on, tilting my head to the side to convey an expression of 'Well? Are you going to do anything about it?' But before he act, his friend beside to him quickly planted his feet and shoved him back, preventing him from lunging at me.

"Jeez Paul, chill," the boy muttered. "Can't you see she's messing with you?"

I pouted at Jared—since I now figured out the person itching to fight was Paul—and he scowled, though his was more wary rather than hate compared to Paul. "Smart move," I complimented, ignoring the second snarl from Paul as I faced Carlisle. "Hey, Carlisle, how's Sam?" I greeted casually.

He had been observing us with a hint of stress in his features, but it was gone now, replaced with a polite smile as he strolled forward at a comfortable pace and stopped in front of me. "Hello again, Bella. He's sedated right now—I was able to successfully set the broken bone when he shifted back to his human form, which I must admit, is far more manageable," he chuckled humorlessly. He then twisted slightly to address Jacob and Billy, the latter coming outside when he noticed the commotion. "Please, call me if any complications arise. Otherwise, I should return home."

"Would you mind if I tagged along? I sent Edward back to your house—I wanted to let Alice know of my intentions to speak with her."

"Alice?" Jacob interrupted, eyes narrowing slightly. "She's still with you?" he scoffed.

Carlisle's expression hardened marginally, solidifying like ice. "Yes, as a matter-of-fact, she is," he defended with a bit of steel. "And Alice is welcome so long as she chooses to be there." How strange—he was completely serious. Obviously, the tension existed between the two groups because of Alice. It wasn't hard to determine the specific reason why—the wolves clearly disapproved of a human staying with the Cullens.

What was it about her that had the Cullens acting this way? Yet oddly enough, I saw parallels between her and myself. She was a human staying with a coven of vampires, such as myself before I was changed. Said vampires were extremely protective of her, like my Volturi. And, she was gifted like me. Really, the situation she was present in was uncannily similar to that of mine.

"I was wondering why Edward wasn't accompanying you," said Carlisle, changing the subject and bring me back from my musings. "It's not like him to leave a lady by herself," he noted absentmindedly.

Jacob snorted softly. "Yeah, she's a lady all right," he mumbled sarcastically, earning himself a wink. He rolled his eyes at me. "We'll escort you both to the border," he added, louder this time.

"Border?" I reiterated in confusion, frowning. What was that supposed to mean? I had doubts that it was a physical entity, as I did not see any signs alluding anything to that effect, but then again, I was being chased by a pack of horse-sized, vampire-slaying wolves.

Jacob and Carlisle exchanged a quick glance at each other, and my frown deepened. I didn't like being kept in the dark. "It's a long story," Carlisle finally managed. "I'll explain it on the way home." Although I was suspicious, I trusted him enough not to press for answers. With an apathetic shrug of my shoulders, I gestured for Carlisle to lead me back into the safety of the dimly lit forest.