A/N: Just a reminder, this fic is strictly AU.

i) Leah and Sam never were together. They're just good friends. End of.
ii) Jacob and Leah imprinted on each other and have a very strong, loving relationship.
iii) Paul was the second to phase after Sam and being best friends, they already trusted each other implicitly and that's why Sam chose him as his Beta.
iv) Emily isn't the "sweetness and light" character, as portrayed in the books and the movies. She's an out 'n' out bitch. Basically, the Makah equivalent of a self-centred, whiny, extremely irritating Bella Swan !
v) The lyrics featured are from a song called "Not Strong Enough" and belong to Apocalyptica. A song which I've been playing on a permanent loop along with Nickelback's "Trying Not To Love You" and "Holding On To Heaven."

XXXXXXXXX

Chapter I

One month later

Leah's pov:

It's been a month since we've buried her. Five weeks since she was killed by a drunk driver in a hit-and-run and Sam's world was completely thrown off its axis. I feel for him. I really do. I can't imagine what he's going through ... or would even want to. In fact, I don't know what the hell I'd do if something like that ever happened to my Jake ... if I lost him. But something tells me, screams at me from within, that if I were to lose Jake, my beloved imprint, my life wouldn't be worth living. I wouldn't want to live without him, as he means everything to me. Just as Emily did to Sam.

I can't say Emily and I got on. That we liked each other. I mean, we were too different. Had nothing in common. We only tolerated each other for the sake of our imprints, but that was it. I wouldn't seek her out for companionship or to confide in her ... I had Kim and Rachel, who were my closest friends outside the Pack for that and they're all I need and trust. Nope, Emily Young and I weren't friends and most likely never would've been. She was more of a man's woman. Always fawning around the Pack, trying to make the rest of us women feel inadequate around our menfolk. Particularly Rach, Kim and me, who'd been imprinted on by Embry, Jared and Jacob ... and much to our dismay, those three sad saps always bought her "Little Miss Perfect" act, just like the rest of the damn Pack. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating slightly there, there was one wolf who had the strength and the smarts not to fall victim to her wiles. And that's our Beta. Paul.

Paul never got to be Beta without a damn good reason. He may be a hot-headed, arrogant, impatient ass at times, but the Council and Sam knew exactly what they were doing when they elected him as the Pack's second-in-command, 'cause our Paulie has a damn good brain and he's not afraid to use it. Paul Lahote's a shrewd, cunning bastard and someone you'd always want to have your back in a tight corner. The man's a born fighter. And considering the shitty upbringing and totally worthless people - well, I can hardly call them parents, as they never cared for him and treated him like dirt - who raised him, it's no wonder that he's the kind of person that lashes out aggressively first and asks questions later.

But as a team, he and Sam worked really well together. They complimented each other. Sam was the cool, calm and collected one. Always planning and thinking things through meticulously and ensuring that we were aware of any potential risks we'd have to face. Paul was the volatile, passionate, loyal one, whose impulsiveness was curbed by Sam's restraint, while Sam was far less controlling and detached, thanks to Paul's influence. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Sam may well be the Alpha and the Pack's soul, but Paul's definitely its heart.

Anyhoo, no matter, I guess I'm rambling here ... It turned out that I wasn't the only Pack member to dislike Emily. For some reason known only to himself, Paul loathed her from day one. Genuinely hated her. Much to Sam's utter dismay and confusion. Our Alpha couldn't get his head around the fact that his best friend and Beta refused to tolerate his precious Emily. Thanks to her, they began to grow apart. Emily had Sam wrapped around her little finger and she damn well knew it. For a supposedly highly intelligent man, when it came to Emily, Sam could be a total moron. He was besotted with her. She blinded him. Made him fail to see her jealousy towards his Beta and the underhand way she continuously undermined or try to humiliate Paul in front of the Pack.

Sam became blind to the hurt that shadowed Paul's velvety, dark chocolate eyes and the way his proud countenance would darken in anger. Not only that, Sam was deaf to the snide remarks she'd make at Paul's expense; the sly digs Emily made about Paul's home life and of the poor control he had on his temper ... yet not once did Sam reproach her and tell her to lay off that delicate subject. She took pleasure whenever Paul and Sam fell out - something much to my brother Seth, Jacob and my dismay, seemed to occur more frequently than we liked. And Sam never failed to read Paul the riot act if Emily gave the slightest hint that Paul did or said anything which displeased her. And the worst thing about it ? Instead of exploding or instantly phasing like he always did with the rest of us, our fiery, mercurial, mouthy Beta'd just sit back meekly and take it, before sloping off like a wounded animal with its tail between its legs.

Seeing our normally proud, dominant Beta act so out of character, so submissively, during his fights with Sam was so very, very wrong. Paul wasn't supposed to react that way. To lose his snarky, bad ass attitude and the fire in his belly. It simply wasn't him. I know he gives everyone the impression that he's a bad ass mother-fucker, that he's the Pack's original big, bad wolf and all that's perfectly true. He is all that and more ... or at least he used to be. But now, thanks to Emily, Paul's become somewhat of a lone wolf. Oh, he's still loyal to the Pack. Above and beyond the call of duty in fact. But since Emily came into the picture, he's no longer the social animal that he once was. And that can be seen in our Pack meetings. In the past - before Emily got her claws into Sam - you could say Paul was at the heart of things. The life 'n' soul in all our meetings. Thoughtful. Opinionated. And not afraid to air his thoughts, even though some of them could be irritating as hell at times. He'd always hang out with the Pack once the meetings were over, pranking some of the younger wolves and basically relax and have a laugh.

But things changed once Sam got serious about Emily. She succeeded in driving a wedge between Sam and his wingman. Paul became quieter. Taciturn. Colder. And since Emily managed to get her feet firmly under Sam's table, Paul's attitude was one of solely business. The "get it done and get gone" kind. He no longer hung out with us once Pack business was done ... not after the last vicious argument with Sam, which turned into a rather nasty dogfight at surprize, surprize, Emily's instigation. The bitch had Sam by the balls and poor Paul was the one who kept getting it in the neck. Usually for no fault of his own.

Things had gotten so bad between our Alpha and Beta, that Paul would barely look at Sam. Would only speak curtly when spoken to and would do his damnedest to keep to himself as his muscular, six foot three body coiled with tension. Tension which would only begin to dissipate once he'd silently stalk out of Sam's home, citing that he had patrols to run. And that hacked Sam off no end. It kinda pissed me off the way Sam expected Paul to "suck it up and deal with it" ... to expect the most loyal member of his Pack to put up with the disrespectful way Emily treated him. In fact, there were times I'd be so infuriated on our Beta's behalf, that I'd walk out of Sam's cabin. Just to make a point. Not that it made much difference really. Well, not when Sam was so oblivious to anything and everything which wasn't Emily ... But Jake noticed alright. He might not have been Paul's greatest fan at first, but once they became friends, Jake quickly sensed how unhappy Paul was ... how distraught our hot-head felt about losing his best friend.

Shit ! I'm waffling again, aren't I ? Talking, as Seth would say, absolute crap as usual. But this is something I feel pretty strongly about. I know I have a rep for being the Pack's resident bitch, but WTF ... ? I was nowhere in the same league as Emily. And whatever I am, I never tried to destroy the pack dynamic as she did. I never came between two brothers and I hope to god I never do ... no matter how much they wind me up ...

I can't deny that I care for Sam. That I feel sorry that he's in such pain right now. That he's grieving for someone he loved yet lost. But Paul ? I've come to love him like an annoying older sibling. One I can't help but like. A lot. I hate seeing him suffer like this. I know he misses Sam terribly ... that he misses the closeness they once had.

In a way, I'd hoped that Emily's death might have brought them back together ... but it never happened. Paul was unable to shake off the memory of his last fight with Sam ... that Sam had betrayed and rejected their friendship. And so he continued to stay away. He even elected to patrol on the day of the funeral and pulled a double shift so that me and Jake could be there to support Sam. The awful thing about the situation was that a few people were quick to loudly voice their opinions about Paul's absence, one of them it pains me to say, sadly, was my own mother. Looking back, I'm still pretty ticked off with mom for the way she kept acting like the sun shone out of Emily's ass and how she constantly compared me, her own daughter, unfavourably to the late, deceased "Saint" Emily. Way I figure it, is why the hell should Paul attend a funeral to pay respect to someone who did nothing but disrespect him while she was alive ? If I'd been in his position, I'd've done exactly the same. So, no, I'm not going to miss her now that she's gone and I'm only sorry that she's pushing up daisies, for Sam's sake ... not hers.

But I have to admit, I'm worried about Sam. It's been a month and none of us have seen him since the funeral. It's like he's laying low and gone to ground to lick his wounds. Or flying under the radar, if you like ... Whatever ... What scares me is that Sam's clearly not himself. Rumour had it that he'd met up with the Council and demanded that they replace him as Alpha ... that he'd no intention of leading the Pack. So now, Jake, who happens to be the rightful Alpha, has had to step up to the plate as temporary cover. And Jake only did it with the proviso that Sam would eventually return as Alpha and that Paul continued as Beta. And fair dues to Paul, he has been pulling his weight over the last few weeks and has taken on far more than his fair share of patrols, never mind having Jake's back and providing him as much support as possible. That kinda threw Jake for a loop at the beginning, but now, he's truly grateful for all the help Paul's given him. But this weird reclusive shit that Sam's doing is really freaking me out. I can't help but worry that unless we get through to him soon, that he's going to do something really stupid ... and if that happens, I'll never be able to forgive myself.

So, I'm thinking maybe it's time we did something about it. Show Sam that we care. It's time we quit pussyfooting around the issue, pulled our fingers out of our butts and checked up on him. I reckon it's time for Jake to have a little chat with our stubborn Beta and persuade him that it'd be in his interest to start talking to his best friend once more.

XXXXX

Paul's pov:

It's been two years ... Two long frickin' years since it happened. Since God decided to have a huge laugh at the expense of La Push's resident skirt-chaser and hot-head. And it's one big, sad fucking joke ... only I'm not smiling, let alone laughing ...

Two years ago, my life turned completely upside down. Made me feel as if I were struck by a right curve ball ... and since then, everything's turned to complete shit. Become a goddamn clusterfuck.

My home life's always been a mess. My old man's been a mean, abusive drunk ever since I've known him. Mom's always lived in fear of him. Constantly on tenterhooks as to where the next blow's coming from and what will trigger his violence. She's a complete bag of nerves ... existing from day to day as his own personal punchbag; terrified of opening her mouth and saying the wrong thing. And once the rat-arsed bastard's done hitting her, he usually starts on me.

Hell ! I've lost track how many times me 'n' mom have ended up in A&E, needing to be patched up; how often Sue Clearwater's tried to help us or convince us both to just pack up our stuff and leave him ... but mom always refuses. Says we'll both be fine. That dad didn't mean any of it. That he was just under a lot of stress. But me 'n' Sue know better. We both know what's going on and we're both pissed 'cause our hands are tied over the situation. We both know mom will never leave the old man, 'cause she's afraid that he'll track us both down and fuck knows what'd happen to us then ... Like I said, I've lost track of how bad things are at home. How often I've turned up at school with bruises I can't explain or how many broken bones I've had. Fuck ! I'm almost damn sure by now, that there isn't a single part of my body that hasn't been kicked or punched by that evil old bastard.

A son's meant to love his parents, right ? Not hate or live in fear of them. That's why I've always envied Jacob and Leah and Seth for their parents. They've no idea just how fucking lucky they are to have such great people as parents. Folk who genuinely and unconditionally love them no matter what. Hell ! I'm even jealous of Embry. He may not have known his dad, but his mom ? She's awesome. She adores Embry, positively thinks the sun shines from his ass and would do absolutely anything for him. Mrs Call's not had an easy life. Not by a long shot. She's always worked hard and done her best for Embry. Being a single mom couldn't have been easy for her, but she did it all with no grousing, simply 'cause she loves her son and always put his welfare and happiness first. I just wish I'd been so lucky ...

But to get back to the point. What I'm trying to say was I'm totally fucked and my life's just plain screwed.

Two years ago was the last time my dad ever hit me. Since then, after what happened, he hasn't laid a finger on me. And the reason for it ? I phased for the first time and nearly scared the old bugger to death. Now he just gives me a wide berth and death glares and that's something I can live with. My mom's not been so lucky. Every so often, when I'm not around, he beats her up. Simply 'cause she's smaller and weaker than him and that makes the fucker feel good. One of these days, I swear to god, I'm going to catch him at it and I'm gonna make his life absolute hell ...

I always hoped I'd never turn out like my parents. I didn't want to be like them. A drunken, vicious bully like my old man or a weak, frightened person like my mom. But it looked like someone forgot to send that particular memo to the big man upstairs ... 'cause I ended up inheriting dad's worst possible traits. His violent temper and stubborn streak. And I loathe it. I truly hate being like him ...

FLASHBACK

So yeah, here I am. Seventeen years old, a hot-headed, aggressive and impetuous prick who'd just discovered he was a goddamn freak of nature. A frickin' wolf ! I was so confused and terrified that I hadn't a damn clue what was going on, what was happening to me that I bolted into the thick of the forest behind my house.

One minute, I was a normal teenage boy, who was slightly buffer than I used to be and who had a far higher temperature than normal. The next ? I was on all fours, covered with dark silver fur, had heightened senses and having the mother of all panic attacks.

Oh, shit ... Oh, shit ... OH, SHIT ! I said, or rather whimpered to myself. What the fuck ? I stared down at my huge paws and another intense wave of panic overwhelmed me. This can't be happening. There's just no fucking way this is fucking happening ... It's just a dream. A bad dream. Just a nightmare. Once I wake up, everything'll be ok and I'll have a laugh about it ... That's what I'll do. I'll just lie down, close my eyes and when I wake up, everything'll be ok ...

Swear to God, on all things sacred, I prayed like mad that it was just a dream. But as soon as I opened my eyes and saw those damned huge paws stretched out in front of me, it slowly sank in that nothing changed. I gave a cry, well, it came out as more of a deep, loud howl than a cry, of pure frustration and hysteria before leaping to my feet and growling softly as I paced anxiously.

Fuck ! I'm stuck ... I'm gonna be a frickin' wolf forever. This wasn't supposed to happen. I had my whole damned life planned, for fuck's sake. Get my apprenticeship sorted, pass my exams and get my qualifications, then open my own bike custom and repair shop ... Maybe get a couple more tatts and a piercing or two ... Shit ! No more women ... I'm never gonna get laid again. Might as well get rid of my dick 'n' balls while I'm at it, considering I'm never gonna get any more action. It's not fair ... Why do I have to spend the rest of my fucking life as an overgrown, fleabitten furball ? This is just great ... just fucking great !

And that's when it happened. When I got the biggest shock of my life.

Paul ? Hey, Lahote ? That you ?

Startled, I nearly jumped through my skin when I heard that deep, husky voice, then immediately spun around, with my hackles raised as I scanned the area for its owner. There was no one there. Confused, I sat down, my brow furrowing into a wolfish frown. Oh, great ... so now I'm hearing voices in my head. Imagining things. Could my piss-poor life actually get any worse ?

Oh, for crying out loud, Lahote. Your mind's not playing tricks on you. It's me. Sam.

By now, I was totally thrown off balance. Completely at a loss. I shifted slightly to make myself more comfortable and began to scratch behind my right ear with the paw of my hind leg. Sam ? "Sam" who ? Do I even know a "Sam ?"

'Course you do. Sam Uley, you stupid dick !

Oh, right ... That Sam ... If a wolf could break a world record for looking sheepish, then I just had to be a winner. I'd probably be unbeatable.

Yeah, that Sam ...

I heard a soft chuffing sound and took it to mean the wolf equivalent of laughter. It was then followed by the equally soft padding of feet. Then I saw it. A massive, sleek, powerfully built, jet black wolf with yellow eyes. It broke through the cover and calmly approached me with a confidence that blew me away. It's tail was at half mast, wagging slightly.

Even though I was way larger than your average wolf, this one towered over me. I growled softly and stiffened. Whoever the hell this was, I was taking no chances and despite the huge difference in size, if it attacked me, I would retaliate and defend myself ... even though the thought alone had me shitting myself.

The sable wolf shook its head and looked distinctly amused ... for a wolf. Paul ... Paul ... Paul ... Calm down, it's just me. Sam.

WTF ? Sam ? I gave him what would soon be patented as my "Are you for real or are you just shitting me ?" look. The look that had the Pack's members wary of me.

Come on Paul. Follow me.

Uh, where are we going ? I asked warily, not wanting any more nasty surprizes unless I could help it.

Back to my place, then on to Billy Black's ... There's stuff you need to know ...

XXXXX

I followed him silently into a large, comfortable log cabin at the outskirts of the forest.

Sam stalked briskly up the steps and nudged the door open with his snout. Once inside, he turned his head and watched me carefully as I stood hesitantly outside. I swear if a wolf could roll his eyes, Sam did just that as well as roll his impressive shoulders in what could only be classed as a shrug. He sighed.

You coming in ? Or are you expecting me to roll out the red carpet or something ?

I gave an unimpressed "humph" and cautiously entered the cabin and found myself in a spacious living room which was both warm and welcoming.

Wait here while I go 'n' get you something to wear. Then I'll show you how to phase back. Sam ordered before slipping into a side room.

I stood there silently and took in my surroundings, appreciating both its beauty and comfort. It felt like a home, unlike my own, which resembled a war zone at the best of times. For the first time since I'd shifted into a wolf, I felt calm. And at peace.

There were some fine wood carvings scattered around the room. All of the local wildlife. Deer. Elk. Bear and cougar. But one in particular caught my eye. It mesmerized me. It was a wolf. So utterly lifelike and realistic, that I half expected to see it move at any time or see a breeze gently ruffle its thick fur. It made me think of one wolf in particular as the resemblance was so uncanny. It reminded me of Sam.

I must've sensed Sam's presence before I heard him re-enter the room. I turned ... and suddenly froze.

It was as if time stood still. I felt inexplicably bound to Sam ... Couldn't imagine living my entire life without him being present in it. In any way, shape or form. It was like I was magnetically drawn to Sam and that I would always be attracted to him. Heat coursed throughout my body and all I could see was Sam. I felt as if my centre of gravity had snapped then shifted to bind itself entirely to him; anything which connected me to everything and anyone else had been cleaved. From now on, all that mattered ... all that was important in my life was Sam ... and I felt a powerful compulsion to care for and protect him. To do anything and everything I could to ensure his happiness.

Where these intense feelings for Sam came from, I'm fucked if I knew. But they were there. Undeniably so. And they would always be there. Come what may. Sam would always be the main priority in my life. Overshadowing everyone else. Rather like the sun eclipsing the moon. Everyone else - if I remembered them - would forever come second to him. And I would always place his welfare and happiness above everything else, even if it meant sacrificing mine.

"Paul ... Paul ?"

I must've zoned out. I slowly shook my head in a vain attempt to focus and stared at Sam who stood before me, with his striking whisky-hued eyes narrowed in concern. He'd shifted back to human form ... and what an impressive form it was. He was tall. Well over six foot three and impressively built. Ripped, in fact. The first thing I noticed, well I'd've had to be blind if I hadn't, was the fact that he was half naked. A pair of denim cutoffs were slung low over his narrow hips and clung enticingly to his lower body, flattering his toned physique.

I swallowed hard. Glad for once that I was not in human form, otherwise I'd've been sorely tempted to lick my lips at the sight of him. That should've been the first warning sign. That I definitely found him attractive. Desirable. Me ? Paul Lahote. Skirt-chaser extraordinaire. The womanizing bad boy from La Push who left nothing but a trail of broken, hearts in his wake was seriously lusting after another man. And fair play, Sam was undeniably a very fine specimen. Absolutely hot.

Smooth russet skin covered taut sinew, like silk cloaking hot steel. Closely cropped hair, black as a raven's wing, covered his scalp, accentuating strong, chiselled features that were both beautiful and unarguably masculine. Combine all those assets with those striking, highly intelligent golden-brown eyes and that deep, gravelly voice ... well, no wonder I was suddenly and mysteriously confused about my sexuality.

The rest of the day became a complete blur. Totally passed me by. All I knew, once I'd laid eyes on Sam and met his stunning, concerned gaze, was that my life would never be the same again.

XXXXX

By the time I'd understood what had happened to me - what imprinting truly was - and found the nerve to tell Sam, it was too late. He'd met Emily. And was very taken by her.

I'd stopped by the auto-shop that he owned, after hours of inner conflict with myself whether to tell him or not that I'd imprinted on him. I'd kept quiet about it for almost a month and the knowledge was eating away at me like cancer. In the end, it got too much and I decided, the hell with it, Sam had a right to know. I owed it to him. He was my best friend. My Alpha. And I could no longer lie to or keep my secret from him.

I ambled into the garage, full of anticipation and if I'm honest, some trepidation about how Sam would take the news. All I could do was pray that he didn't completely reject me. 'Cause if he did ? Well, lets just say my life may as well be over.

"Hey, Sam ! You busy ?" I yelled over the radio, which was currently playing Nickelback's "Trying Not To Love You" full blast. Oh, the irony of it being that song being aired, just as I was about to drop a frickin' bombshell on the man. "Got a sec ? I really need to talk to yo- "

I came to an abrupt halt as I found Sam leaning against an open bonnet of a rust bucket, his attention completely focused on some skank ... er, sorry, girl who appeared to own it. He appeared totally smitten by her and I hated the bitch on sight.

"Oh- " I mumbled. That was unusual in itself as I never mumble. I yell, I cuss, I bawl out people, I whisper sweet nothings to them, but I, Paul Lahote, never mumble.

"Sure, man. What can I do for you ?" Sam replied, his gaze never wavering from her.

Shaking my head in disappointment, I growled, "Er, forget it. I can see you're ... busy. It doesn't matter anyway. 'S not if it was something important."

I turned on my heel, head bowed and stalked towards the door. Trying to put on a brave face so that he wouldn't see something was bothering me.

"Paul. Wait ! What's up ?" Sam reluctantly hauled himself away from the heap masquerading as a car and slowly approached me. He laid his hand on my forearm and the heat from his palm against my skin was scorching. It also sent the blood directly to my nethers, making me impossibly hard.

Shrugging my shoulders, I waved him off. "Look, it's nothing, man. Really. Forget about it. Sorry I disturbed you ..."

"You sure ?"

By now, the song had long since changed on the radio and the lyrics were even more poignant.

There's nothing I can do
My heart is chained to you
And I can't get free
Look what this love's done to me

"Sure I'm sure ... It's just me being crazy. I'll catch up with you late- "

Before I could even finish what I was about to say, I could tell that Sam was distracted ... that his attention was firmly back on the slut who was eyeing him up possessively. I felt my lips curl into a disgusted, furious snarl. How dare she ? How fucking dare she look at my imprint as if he were a piece of fucking meat for the taking ? She wasn't worthy to be in his presence. No where near good enough for him ... He deserved far, far better than that.

I could feel the tension rapidly seeping into my body. The acute need to phase. And the dull, constantly throbbing ache I had in my chest. Exactly where my heart was frantically beating. And all I could think of was that I had to leave ... before I did something stupid. Luckily for me, I had my back to them. Even more lucky, Sam had all but forgotten my presence.

To my horror, I felt a tear slowly trickle down my cheek and I wiped it away furiously with the back of my hand. There was no way in hell, I could tell Sam now. Not when he was clearly interested in her. I'd lost him, before I even got the chance to tell him how I felt. And that knowledge was tearing me apart. Slowly killing me. But I could see how happy Sam looked when he'd been flirting with her. He was genuinely happy and there was no way - no matter how badly I yearned for him, longed for him to want me the way I wanted him - I could selfishly come between him and what he wanted. After all, when it comes to the crunch, my imprint's happiness and well being take precedence over everything else, no matter how strongly I feel about him.

Seeing he was otherwise occupied, I had no choice but to leave. I fled. Determined never to reveal my secret as I'd never be able to deal with the rejection or pity I'd find in Sam's highly observant eyes.

END OF FLASHBACK

So, yeah ... That's why I hated Emily so badly. She just swanned into Sam's autoshop that day and stole my reason for living. She fucking took my life away from me, broke my heart in the process and regularly stomped on it for good measure. And the fact that she's a bitch of the first order just makes it so much easier for me to hate her. If I'm honest, I'm glad she's gone. Glad that she's dead. And I know I'm being an embittered, vindictive bastard for feeling this way, but I just can't find it in me to care. The only thing I do care about is that my Sam's truly suffering and is in immense pain. Pain I'd do anything to endure on his behalf. Like I said, Sam's my imprint and I'd do anything for him ... Anything, if it brought a glimmer of hope, of happiness to his eyes once more.

So now, here I am. Outside my imprint's home for the first time in a month. I haven't seen him in weeks ... Not since we last fought ... and that was down to that conniving bitch. I stayed away 'cause it was too hard for me to be around him. To see him. Hear him. Smell him. And not be able to touch or taste him. I've missed him terribly. More than I ever imagined possible. And now, I find myself as a favour to both Jake and Leah, about to enter the wolf's den. To be Sam's loyal and supportive Beta once more ... and I'm fucked if I know how he's gonna react once he sees me ...