Author's note- I apologize for the wait :( I had some very busy weeks that will continue on until the end of June. But I am still in love with my story :) and these characters (which means Quil) and so there is no chance of me abandoning it! So, have faith and patience, I'm doing my best. I swear! And so I give you the thirty first installment. Enjoy!

Thanks to my wonderful and inspiring beta Warui-Usagi for making the post possible.

Disclaimer.

"That's a bad one."

I smacked his face away from my neck and grimaced. "I know that actually. Thanks, Embry."

"What'd she do? Chew on your skin for a while?" He sniggered.

I punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

"Hey!" He covered the area with his palm. "Play nice!"

I scowled into the mirror, poking the hickey on my neck. "This is going to get me in a lot of trouble." Sam will have my head.

"You never know. Maybe you're overreacting. You've been known to, weirdly enough."

"You're not helping," I growled.

"I've had them before and he's never said anything."

"But you're a sleez." Embry laughed at me and shrugged, nodding. "And he doesn't know who gives you those. And whoever they are, they're not his niece."

"Oh, true." He pushed my head to the side again and scratched at the bruise with his fingernail. "You're in deep shit."

"I hate you sometimes."

We waltzed casually enough into the Black house, a common place for everyone to hang out. Jacob, Stormy, Paul, Reagan, and Seth were lounging in the family room.

"What's on?" I asked, trying to discern the jerseys on the screen.

"Some really exciting baseball game," Stormy explained. She and Jake looked comfortable. His arm was casually slung around her shoulders, his mouth to her ear as he whispered something.

"Oh." I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the baseball comment, a habit of Claire's. But I smiled at the same time, maybe Bella hadn't messed him up too badly this time. I hadn't done a full turn towards the kitchen when someone squealed from the floor.

"Quil Ateara! What is that on your neck?" Reagan cried.

Kill me. I shrugged my head to the side I knew it was on, pretending to scratch my cheek with my shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Stormy approached me, grabbing my face and exposing the bruise. "Let me guess…" She smirked. "Curling iron burn?"

Jacob snorted and stuffed his face into the crook of his elbow as his shoulders shook. I just rolled my eyes. "It's not really that bad," I complained.

"Yeah, it is," Reagan and Stormy said in unison.

"Can you fix it then?" I snarled. "Instead of just laughing at me as I walk onto death row?"

Seth rose from the couch, having heard the conversation and becoming interested in the object under debate. "Dude, that's ghastly."

I snorted loudly. "Don't use that word."

"Why not?" Seth asked, defensive.

"Because it's a stupid word."

"No, it's not! Maybe that huge hickey is affecting your brain."

I swung my arm behind me and felt it make contact with his cheek. A softened blow sounded.

"Ow!" He yelled, punching my shoulder blade.

"I guess I could try to put some cover up on it…" Reagan mentioned idly.

I cringed. "You mean make up?"

"Hey." She put her hands up. "You're the one with the love wound on your neck."

I paused and glanced in a reflection on the glass door. The blue and black spot seemed bigger and darker than before. My heart pounded more heavily just at the thought of how it had gotten there. I gasped as three pairs of hands pinned me to the couch.

"I can't believe I'm actually letting you guys do this," I sighed, irritated.

"Well, you aren't really letting us," Seth said as he put all his weight on my left arm when I squirmed away from the scratchy, brown sponge.

"I feel so girly."

"Well, it's your girlie's fault that this is here anyways," Jake reasoned, clenching his hands over my shoulders. "So suck it up."

The thick, cold syrup was spread over and over the spot until I felt like it had to be caking over. "Please, tell me that was enough."

Seth put a fist in front of his mouth and coughed out a laugh. I glanced worriedly up to Reagan.

Her eyes were humored and her lips were twitching. But she worked hard at looking sympathetic. "Quil, it's too dark."

"What do you mean? You can't cover it?!" Might as well make funeral arrangements now.

"I'm sorry!" She burst into hysteric laughter. "There's only so much cosmetics can do!"

I shoved off of the couch and stomped into the bathroom. A large, mismatching patch on my neck was clearly visible. And so was the dark circle beneath it. Claire's going to feel so bad when she finds out that she got me murdered.

I yanked a wash cloth out of the cupboard and scrubbed furiously at the goop that had made it worse. A soft tap came at the door.

"Quil?" It was Stormy.

"What!"

"Can I come in?"

I threw open the stupid piece of rectangular wood.

She bit her tongue as a laugh bubbled up her throat, "I don't think it's that bad."

I scoffed. "You're lying."

She chuckled lowly. "Yeah, I am."

"How could I let this happen?" I grumbled. This could ruin everything. This could set everything back. Would Sam do that? Make me wait longer?

"Did she draw blood?" Stormy wondered amusedly, rubbing the spot. "Because that is the darkest one I have ever seen."

I just glared at her, not honoring the question with an answer.

"Okay, touchy today, I get it." She spun on her heel, whisking out of the door.

Jacob appeared, his looming form slumping in the doorway.

"What?" I growled.

"Sam called."

Great. "And?"

"We're meeting in twenty minutes."

"Do you mind killing me before we get there?"

He just shook his head and laughed, shrugging away from the frame.

The meeting went as smoothly as any other, no one had mentioned my mark yet, luckily. And I had been blessed enough to keep Sam from noticing it. My mind wandered as the anxiety lessened fractionally.

I couldn't believe Claire would be sixteen in less than two weeks. For so long we'd had nothing but time in front of us, and I had nothing to do but wait. I took leisurely pleasure in enjoying each and every slow moment between us, whether she was four or fourteen.

But suddenly, there didn't seem to be any time left at all. And I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know what to do with myself. What all would change?

My limbs stiffened as a familiar, prickly heat whirled through my veins. I wanted her so badly. I wanted everything, all of her, all of the time. And I wanted to give her all of me. Everything. Forever.

But she was only going to be sixteen.

I had waited for so long that it seemed like so much older, but she was still younger than I was when I had first imprinted.

I didn't notice we were done until everybody started rustling around me, heading for the door. I got up from the couch and hurriedly pushed towards the exit, my heart still pounding.

"Quil." Sam's voice was strong. I felt my eyes nearly pop out of my head and my heart stop. "Could you stay for a minute?" Jake squeezed my shoulder on the way out.

"Sure," I mumbled. He waited until everyone had cleared out, my entire body shaking the whole time.

"Let's take a run," he invited.

Shit.

The forest floor didn't seem as forgiving as usual as my paws pounded on its surface. The wind blurred our shapes as we flew through the gaps in the trees, barely more there than ghosts.

I need you to clear your head, Quil.

Sam's request vibrated through my head. I sifted through everything, tucking away moments here and there, hiding some, and leaving others in plain sight. This couldn't be good.

How's your neck feeling?

The question brought speed to my heart.

What do you mean?

I played dumb.

Quil, I'm not blind.

I was kind of hoping you would be today. I thought honestly. Why wasn't he beating me into the ground yet?

You know why we're running then.

Here it comes.

Yes.

We were silent for a long time then. And it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was dreadful. The pulse in my chest was plummeting into oblivion while my head was trying to map the location around us. Was he running to get us lost? And then he'd leave me there to die?

Melodramatic? Maybe. But my life was on the line here.

I'm not going to lie to you, Quil. I'm pissed, he said finally. My body shuddered.

I know.

I felt like I might throw up from the feeling in my stomach. But it had been worth it. I'd do it all over again if it just meant a few more minutes wrapped around that silky skin of hers.

But I'm not going to lie and say that I don't understand.

His thoughts were strangely sympathetic. Pushing my luck was the last thing I wanted to do, so I kept quiet.

I've felt what you feel. I still feel it, everyday. And I know it must be agony to deny those senses.

My head was spinning so fast from the unexpected consideration that I almost couldn't understand what he was saying.

But you disobeyed me.

My blood froze. I began blubbering in my own defense.

Sam, it wasn't something I meant to do; I swear. I just couldn't—help myself. And it hurt like hell, believe me.

His form came to a halt in front of me, the onyx eyes nearly invisible in the sleek shadowy coat. His four legs moved excruciatingly slowly through the air as his high head approached mine.

I realized something the other day.

He told me. His gaze had been averted back to the forest floor.

Claire's sixteen in a little more than ten days.

Yeah. I only noticed that a little while ago too.

He sighed, or the wolf version of such.

She still seems so young.

I wanted to beg to differ, but I didn't.

You have to understand that I'm not just her uncle, Quil. When Ron died I became her father too. She doesn't have anyone else.

The hair on the scruff of my neck stood on end in irritation. I felt a fiery flash dance across my eyes.

She has me, I snarled in my mind.

And when she turns sixteen I won't have any control of how you handle your relationship with her. So what I'm telling you, especially regarding that hickey on your neck, is that you're going to have control of your relationship. Which means you'll have control over what happens to Claire and over…reactions to some of her decision, he snarled in return.

I nodded sharply, accepting the responsibility. I began to turn back towards the Rez when he skidded in front of me, his eyes dark.

And, Quil? That means you're the only boundary left to protect her virtues.

The word rang in my head. Virtues.

Virtues. Virginity. Values. Vices. Lots of 'Vs' to uphold. My throat closed up.

I'll see you around, Sam thought. And then he left.

She looked perfect, perched in her little corner, strumming the strings of the guitar without a care in the world. I leaned into the doorframe, careful not to make any noise, and just watched. Her eyes were closed, the smooth lids twitching slightly as the downturned orbs traced the trails her fingers wove over the strings. Those long eyelashes were boldly black against her russet skin, shadowing elongated fingers down the apples of her cheeks. Her plump, softly pink lips were murmuring lyrics underneath the wind that blew from between them.

Her thin, toned arms were bare, having been exposed by the grey tank top she had slung on. Mile-long legs were folded beneath her, lean and carved from silk. My heartbeat sped just looking over Claire's body, silhouetted by the late light of the afternoon.

Sam's bass reminder rang in my head; you're the only boundary left to protect her virtues.

Some boundary I was. I could barely keep myself from jumping on her at that precise moment. This was going to be hard.

"Hiya." Her voice was soft. I hadn't even noticed that she'd stopped playing.

"Hey."

"Watcha been doin'?" She set her guitar down and shrugged adorably, beckoning me to her with a wave of her hand.

I trudged forward, hands tucked in pockets. A spark flew through me as she pressed her lips against the side of my face when I leaned down to hug her. "Just a boring day," I told her, pulling her against my chest.

She relaxed against me, making the inside of me warmer than usual. "Can we just watch a movie tonight?" She asked, laying her head on my shoulder. "I'm tired, sort of."

"Sure, C." I set her on the ground, wrapping her hand in mine and towing her towards the living room. "I'll bet I can pick out the movie."

"I'll bet not." She smirked, grabbing one off of the shelf.

"The Notebook?"

Her smile fell. "You know me too well," she sighed. That made me smile.

"Or maybe you just don't know me well enough," I teased.

She popped in the DVD and sunk into my lap, curving into my slouched form. She glanced up to me and gasped, giggling. "Did I do that?" She petted the shady hickey on my neck.

"Yeah."

"That's dark." Her voice was almost awed.

"I realize that," I quipped, chuckling lowly.

"Ha—has anyone seen it?"

I finally blushed. "Yeah…a couple of people." I expected her to balk but instead she laughed. I guess I shouldn't ever expect the typical of Claire.

"Good," she said smartly.

"Good?" I wondered.

"I'm proud of the first love mark I've left on you." Her smile was wide and infectious as she giggled.

"It's not the first," I promised her, noting the many that she had stamped all over me in the past fourteen years. There were memories of her punches, tantrums, butterfly kisses, and playful wrestles all over my skin. "But this one is definitely my favorite."

Author's note- Now leave a review so I can get to work :)