Chapter 20- Love Tattooed

Mac's POV

"Does it hurt really badly?"

Wyatt glanced over at me. There was no indication of pain on his face. His muscles were relaxed and defined. However, behind his blue irises, I could see it, the pain lacerating his corneas. "No," he lied, his voice just barely strained.

I looked at the needle piercing his skin and cringed, listening to the high-pitched whine of the motor, putting into memory the way the ink stained the perfection of his tanned skin. The taootist looked up from his work to gaze at me.

"He's a strong one," he said. His hair was black, hanging over his forehead and short everywhere else. His skin was forever etched in ink, his earlobes severely gauged with thick, black bands. His entire face was pierced, nose, ears, eyebrows, lips. Though his visage would make you rethink speaking to him, he was nice and unconcerned for the pain he was inflicting on my imprint.

I looked down at the partially completed design on Wyatt's left pectoral, right over his heart. In black and white, a wolf's face was staring at me. We had given the tattooist a picture of my wolf form, just the face, and altered on the computer to be smaller and more what humans were accustomed of. Though I didn't like that it was hurting him, I was excited. The wolf was to have no color except the eyes, which was going to be green. Just like mine.

A few days before, Wyatt and I had been lounging on the couch in my living room, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Trying to forget and trying to embed every moment between us to memory, knowing what was looming in the near future as my family rushed around us, preparing and getting other vampires and werewolves to come to our aid again.

Wyatt had glanced at me and staring into my eyes, told me that he wanted to get a tattoo of me before he became a vampire and it would be impossible. Of course, I told him if he became a vampire, but he persisted. My heart melted into mush when he told me what he wanted. And because I was head over heels for him and could deny him nothing, I conceded.

Wyatt's sapphire eyes locked into mine, concern marring his brow. "Are you nervous?" he asked.

I shook my head, even though it was a lie. I was scared. It was ridiculous, but I couldn't help it. I was always afraid of new things. I hate change. So trying new things wasn't really my thing, yet I wanted to do this for him. For us.

The tattooist, whose name I later learned was Blake, said, "You'll be fine. It tends to hurt the first ten minutes or so but will numb a bit. It'll mostly hurt when it gets to places that are closer to the bone."

I watched mutely as Blake finished Wyatt's tattoo. The wolf was beautiful. Blake was doing a wonderful job of creating my wolf to be life like, her eyes staring at me from Wyatt's skin. When Blake finished, he switched the needles, and dabbed the new one into a bright, vibrant green. His hand was steady as he carefully colored in her eyes, leaving me breathless at the likeness between us.

"Wow," I whispered, looking at how breathtaking the tattoo had come out.

"All right, you're all done," Blake announced, wiping the tattoo with a paper towel. "Let's go check it out."

Walking with the two of them to the six-foot mirror on the wall, I watched Wyatt's face light up as he caught sight of it. His eyes even misted as he met mine. "Blake, it's amazing."

Blake merely smiled and thanked him, pouring medicine onto his hand, and rubbing it onto the tattoo before tapping saran wrap over it. "On to you," he said to me.

I nodded, swallowing thickly. Wyatt grabbed my hand after I had lain supine on the table, taking my arms out of my shirt so Blake could reach my left shoulder blade, the same place Wyatt had gotten his but on the other side. Right over my heart.

I heard the needle start up and my heart thundered in my ears. "Are you ready?" Blake asked.

Wyatt's lips touched the rim of my ear as his hand tightened on mine. "I'm right here, Two Socks."

"Yes, I'm ready," I said, and it wasn't a lie. Feeling Wyatt's hand in mine and the comforting sweeps his thumb was making on the back of my hand made me feel courageous.

The needle pierced my skin and I was surprised at how little it hurt. I had scared myself needlessly. Considering my ridiculously high pain tolerance, there was no reason for me to have been afraid. I would've laughed if I knew it wouldn't ruin the tattoo.

Over the next hour, I lay under the carefully movements of the needle moving on my skin, taking comfort in Wyatt's hand and the fact that I was putting a piece of him on my body to hold eternally. No matter what will happen, I would always carry a piece of him near my heart. The love I had for him emboldened me, filling me with heat and security. This way I would never lose a part of him, even if I were to lose him in body and spirit.

"How are we doing?" Wyatt asked, after Blake and he had finished a conversation about why he had become a tattoo artist.

"Good," I muttered, my stomach screaming at me to feed it. "Just really hungry."

Blake barked out a laugh. "You're the first person to be so nonchalant about the pain and then say that you're hungry."

"That's my girl," Wyatt whispered in my ear. "I told you that it would fine."

A few minutes later, Blake was done, and he walked me over to the mirror. I put my back to it and stared into the handheld mirror he was holding. I put a hand over my agape mouth, staring at the black and white duck footprints. He had made it look like a duck had walked through sand at a beach right on my back, with just the edges of ocean touching a top edge of a footprint.

"Blake, you are my favorite person right now."

He smiled and rubbed the medicine onto it, telling Wyatt and me what we needed to do to take care of our new tats. I smiled, thinking about the fact that we both had his and hers.

Together, Wyatt and I walked out of the tattoo shop hand in hand, smiling privately at what we had just done. The sun was setting over the Olympia horizon. Our hands swung between as we walked down the street, lightly laughing and looking for a restaurant. We settled on The Lucky Dragon just down the street from Cobra, the tattoo/piercing parlor.

The maitre d' led us to a secluded table next to the window, facing the bustling downtown street.

Wyatt sat across from me, smiling.

"What?" I asked, stirring sugar into my tea, extremely ravenous.

"You just look happy."

I glanced up sharply. "I am," I told him. "With you, I'm always happy."

His dimples deepened as his smile grew. "I'm glad. I know that we've been trying to ignore what's going to happen in a month or so."

I didn't respond. Just sat there, stirring my tea much longer than what was necessary. I refused to think of it. My mind had barriers, preventing me to even imagine. It hurt so much, just wondering what it would feel like if he were gone. The reality of all this made my heart pound in my chest as an ache spread through my entire body.

No, I couldn't, wouldn't, go there. I wasn't ready to lose him yet, not after all that had happened. Without even getting married yet.

"Hey," he whispered, lifting my chin with his hand underneath it. "Don't go there."

"I can't help it," I whispered back, the restaurant falling away until there was just the two of us. "I can't help but wonder . . ." I trailed off, not daring enough to speak of it.

"Shhh. I know, but have to move past this. Live in the now. What will happen will happen. And when the day comes to fight, we will be strong together. I won't lose you."

"I can't lose you either."

The rest of our conversation hung in the air between us, weightless, held suspended as we never looked away from each other. We just drowned in the other's eyes until our souls were connected and unwavering. Welded together with a force stronger than either one of us were brave enough to admit. I couldn't force the words out, how much I needed him, how much of me would die when his time came.

It wasn't until the waiter brought water and asked us what we would like that we broke out of our trance. For the rest of the evening we were silent, enjoying the ambiance of being with each other, and the soft, gentle, foreign music pumping through the speaker above our heads.

After dinner, we walked hand in hand to my Mustang still in the Cobra parking lot. The sky was clear, the bright moonlight providing more light than the street lamps, sending a pretty glow over my teal car. Wyatt slid into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition. He tended to drive my car more than I do, enjoying the roar of the ancient engine as much as I did. Growing up with my father had turned me into a car junkie, and I breathed Car and Driver like oxygen.

I enjoyed it when he drove, even if he had a tendency to speed, given the horsepower. Feeling full and complete in a way that is indescribable, my eyelids drooped, falling down to rest on my cheeks. I yawned, my head turning to the side, facing Wyatt unconsciously. He had turned the heater on, not allowing the cold spring air to seep into the car, and it made me even more tired than I thought was possible.

"Wyatt," I murmured drowsily over the sound of the finely tuned engine, "when do you want to get married?"

He sounded surprised and then amused when he responded. "Mac, are you asleep?"

I felt the car turn sharply and realized we had just gotten on the highway.

"No," I slurred. After a long moment of silence, I said, "You haven't answered my question."

"After we survive." I barely caught his words, spoken so quietly in the warm heat of my Mustang.

I immediately fell asleep, trying not to let his words upset me.

"That tattoo is amazing!"

I looked up sleepily to see Ravyn standing in the doorway of my room. I had just asked him to come up and help me clean it through our mind link. "Thanks, Ravyn," I said, my voice clogged with sleep. I sat up, taking the rest of the saran wrap off.

"How did Wyatt's turn out?" he asked, approaching the bed to peer at it before grabbing that lotion-y type medicine Blake had given me and rubbing some onto his palms.

"It's amazing. Besides it being in black and white, it looks just like me."

"That's so cool. I want to get one, but I don't know what it would be. Something totally masculine and BA."

We sat in silence as he rubbed it into the skin. It burned like an SOB, but I didn't cringe or make any indication that it hurt. In all honesty, I had been in much more pain before, so this was like a bug bite. Annoying but forgettable. When he was all done, he said, "The Denali's should be here later today."

I glanced at the window, watching a bird fly by, its wings flapping soundlessly.

Ravyn's arm drew around my waist as he pulled me into his side, and I grabbed onto him for dear life. "I'm scared too," he whispered into my hair.

Everything is going to change because of this, I said in his head, unable to speak the words aloud.

You don't know that, he responded.

"Don't I? Alice said they were pissed. Unlike last time, there will be a fight."

He looked at me and smoothed my hair back. I had forgotten that Ravyn could be so gentle and nurturing. "We're stronger now, sweets. Not only has the pack gotten larger, we have even more love on our side than we did twenty odd years ago. The love between siblings and mates and family. We fought once, we'll do it again."

I let my head fall into the crook of his neck. "I'm not scared for me, though. It's everyone else. Wyatt, you. Everyone."

He chuckled lightly. "You better not go sacrificing yourself for everybody, Little Mac."

"That's not what I mean. I will if it means saving one of you thou-"

His hand was placed over my mouth, his face dead serious as his eyes bored into mine. "You listen to me. I wasn't kidding. You will not sacrifice yourself for us. We love you too much. Wyatt, Aiden, me. We would literally die if you were to even get hurt. Do you get that?"

I nodded, my body paralyzed by the sincere rawness in his voice.

"I love you too much, Mackie, to let you die. I don't tell you enough, but I do."

My eyes grew misty at the pain on his face and I pulled his hand away from my mouth to kiss his cheek. "I love you too, Ravyn, so much. It would hurt me if I were to lose you."

"Then do not even think of letting those bastards kill you."

"I won't," I assured him. "I won't."

The Denali's arrived around two o'clock, meeting with Carlisle, Edward, Jasper, my father, Leah, Seth, and Emmett in Carlisle's study to discuss strategy. Esme and Bella were in the kitchen, trying calm themselves, as well as busy themselves, with baking. My mother was pacing around in the garden, looking for weeds, but knowing that there wouldn't be any. She eventually decided to go out and buy more flowers. Rose and Alice went hunting not long after the Denali coven had appeared.

Ravyn, Aiden, Wyatt, and I stayed in the living room. We were waiting for the pack to arrive. All fifteen or so of them. We were all quiet, knowing that all of the supernatural beings coming to aide would not all survive, and trying to look at them without thinking they might be one of the ones who won't make it.

"Hey!"

We all jumped at Devin's loud shout. A second later Devin, Hayden, Stormy, Quinn, even Alex – my practically sworn enemy – were entering the front door. Following them were all the current wolves, the pack members who had stopped phasing staying in La Push with their mates.

I was surprised that I hadn't heard the engine of a car rolling up the driveway, but I was so preoccupied with the looming fight that I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised at all.

We all got up, muttering our hellos and hugging each other in greeting.

"You guys are so depressed!" Devin chastised us, slapping Aiden on the back. "You have to liven up a bit."

"Dude, the Volturi are coming back here to kill us. Now, gee, I wonder why we're all upset," Aiden responded, pushing Devin away from him.

Devin looked shocked. He looked around at all of our faces – Aiden, Ravyn, Wyatt, me. His face grew paler, his brows falling down over his eyes. "Is it really that bad?" he whispered.

"Yes," I answered quietly.

Devin ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I didn't think . . . I just didn't . . ."

"I know," Ravyn said. "I know."

We we're all quiet then, listening to the rain hitting the ground outside and wondering what our fate looked like.

I was scared there wasn't much left of it.

All of the vampires who helped last time showed up again. The Cullen household was overrun with vampires and werewolves. Jasper and Edward helped to re-teach everyone how to fight, and the Amazon vampire did exercises with Bella to make her barrier even stronger. The days flew by. The date of the Volturi's arrival growing even more imminent with each passing day. The anxiety level was raised and all of our fear was growing.

And to my ever-lasting irritation, Jasper and Edward were aiding Wyatt in learning how he can defend himself against them. Which was very minimal, because in all actuality, there really wasn't much he could do to assist us. It was driving me insane, because we had already decided that he would be in Forks with all the retired wolves to help protect him and all this was just precautions.

Wyatt and I tried to spend every waking moment of our time together. We just couldn't be apart in times like these. We were both frightened of the unknown and the fact this big huge was going to happen, and we wouldn't even be together for that. We made love as often as possible, in unhurried pleasure, knowing that these moments might be our last. Trying to commit our bodies and soul to memory so we would never be able to forget.

When one of us would feel like the end was tangible, we would reach out and touch our tattoos and feel the comfort. We both knew that the tattoos were nothing more than ink and skin, yet the meaning behind them was just so profound that sometimes, when I would feel his muscles spasm under my splayed palm, I thought for a second that I might fall to my knees with all the feelings pouring through me. And when I would look up into his eyes, feeling his heart pounding in rhythm with mine, the same emotions were returned in his. I would know that he was feeling everything that I was feeling. Scared, restless, anxious. We couldn't wait for all of this to pass.

Saying good-bye to him was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. Standing there in my driveway with my arms around his middle, my face in his warm, cologne scented chest and crying, feeling as if I would never see him again. I could taste it. The end. I didn't think I would ever be able to do it.

Wyatt pulled my face away to wipe my tears with his fingers, his own streaking his face. "We're going to see each other again, MacKayla. I can feel it." He was shaking, every part of him quaking with emotion.

I choked back a sob. "I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you either. God, I don't know how Edward convinced me to go. I really don't fucking know how he did it."

"Hailey is with her friend, right?"

"Yeah. I think she could sense something was wrong. She looked at me with the saddest expression on her face. She does that sometimes. It's weird. It's as if she knows things other people don't."

We were silent for a minute or two, holding onto each other so tightly I was afraid I was going to snap him in half. I pulled pack, dropping my arms to my sides before making my tears stop and running my hand beneath my nose to catch the snot. "Well. You should go."

His face was contorted with pain. "Mac . . ."

I nodded. "I know. I love you."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheeks, his tears falling onto my face. "I love you too. So damn much."

I watched as he got into his truck and fire it up. It sounded great after the two of us had fiddled with it the day before, doing a tune up. As he backed up, I waved, and felt a deep sense of loss once his truck disappeared. My knees crumbled and I fell to my knees. Not crying. Not doing anything but just feeling the sense of numbness that overtook me.

Suddenly my family was surrounding me, holding me, telling me this was best and I would see him after tomorrow. It was difficult, but eventually, I got up, walked with them into the house, and sat down to eat some lunch. Wyatt was gone, but I would see him in two days. He'll be fine. . . I repeated that in my head all day, and all through the night, as I couldn't sleep. He was fine. He would be fine. He had texted me and told me that he had gotten there safely and that he would fine. I had to believe that.

The next morning we all went to a clearing near our house. At dawn, all of us walking must have looked like an army walking to a battle. We were a formidable force; we wouldn't lose. We couldn't lose. We had so much at stake, so much riding on this. On us.

As we entered the clearing, we saw them. The Volturi, standing there in black robes soaked by the rain falling around us.

A mean smile that was meant to be kind lit up the dark morning with white teeth in a pasty white face. "Hello, Cullens."

Pictures of their tats on my profile.

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