Chapter IV

The following day.

Sam's pov:

God ! I'm dying ... That's it. Never again. That's the last time I'm hitting the grog that hard ...

Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and was suddenly blinded by the glare of white, bathroom floor tiles. Rolling onto my back, I swiftly closed my eyes, then pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger as the incessant throbbing in my head worsened. It felt as if it were splitting in two. I groaned heavily and licked my dry, chapped lips before cautiously getting to my feet and staggering towards the bathroom cabinet. I'd had hangovers in the past, but they were nothing compared to this. All I could think of was that I needed pain relief ... and I needed it fast.

Tylenol ... Tylenol ... Where the fuck's the goddamn Tylenol ?

Rifling among the meds in the cabinet, I could feel my frustration levels rising as I failed to find what I was looking for. Suddenly, my fingers brushed against a familiar blue box. Sighing with relief, I realized what I'd found and thanked god for Advil, my new best friend. I quickly poured a glass of water and popped one of those blessed orange tablets, draining the glass dry in the process. After rinsing the glass and leaving it on top of the sink, I let the water run then splashed it on my face in the vain hope that it would begin to help sober me up, before quickly cleaning my teeth to scour away the nasty taste of sour whisky that tainted my breath. Afterwards, I staggered into the living room with the sole intention of crashing on the couch and sleeping off the hangover from hell. Weaving around the empty beer bottles on the floor was like navigating the ocean during its worst storm. It was perilous at best ... catastrophic at its worst.

By the time I reached the couch & slumped on top of it, my head was spinning again. The light that seeped into the room was far too bright. Groaning softly in protest, I closed my eyes and covered them with my forearm.

That's it, I vowed to myself, from now on, I'm officially off the hooch.

I winced at the memory of how many empty bottles littered the living room and how I could still smell the aroma of Jack Daniels hanging heavily in the air around me. The smell alone was enough to burn my nostrils and made my empty stomach lurch uneasily. At twenty two and being the oldest member of the Pack, I should've known better. Should've known that although I was the only one legally allowed to drink liquour, that it probably hadn't been one of my best decisions ... even if it did briefly numb the pain I felt and temporarily helped me forget her. To forget Emily. But I hadn't been thinking straight, had I ? And I'm still not thinking straight ... even now ...

My brow furrowed as I mulled over how useless I'd become. How badly I'd let my Pack down ... never mind myself. As I mused, my head rolled to its side against the back of the couch and I suddenly caught a whiff of a scent I hadn't come across for weeks. It was tantalizing. Beguiling. And the most tempting aroma I'd smelled in a long time. It was a scent that I was almost as familiar with as my own. Fresh, yet spicy and alluring. It reminded me of a cool breeze on warm summer nights and of the beach. Of sand, sea and sun and better days. I froze, then immediately sat up in shock as I finally twigged whose scent it was. It belonged to my Beta ... My best friend.

Paul.

And that's when I caught another scent. One that cloaked his. Combined with the strong aroma of whiskey, a faint trace of blood and Paul's intoxicating scent was the unmistakable smell of sex. It was strong. Powerful. And deeply enticing. And to my horror, as I continued to sniff the air, I reeked of it. The speed with which the blood drained from my face, made me feel light-headed. An overwhelming sense of unease swept through me. I could hear my blood roaring in my ears ... my heart pounding wildly and my breathing was harsh and uneven.

Fuck ! Paul had been here ?

If my Beta had been here last night, I'd no memory of it. Couldn't even remember seeing or talking to him, thanks to all the alcohol I'd drunk ... Hell ! I was lucky if I could remember which way was up, never mind what day of the week it was. Honestly ? I couldn't be sure when when I'd last seen Paul ... Especially after that huge bust up we'd had at our last Pack meeting. Since then, everything changed drastically between us. Our relationship swiftly deteriorated. My loyal Beta began to distance himself from the Pack and especially from me. He deliberately kept all communication between us to a bare minimum. Before all this shit blew up in our faces, Paul always held my gaze and his dark eyes would have a spark of defiance or spirit in them. But now ? He'd refuse to make eye contact ... would avert his gaze or do anything rather than look at me. And if he did meet my gaze, his soulful, molasses-hued orbs appeared distant and lifeless and lacked their fire. In the past, Paul would be the life and soul of the Pack. Mouthy and opinionated. Savvy and street-smart. Quick witted and funny. But after I'd publicly chewed him out and torn him a new one, he'd become silent and withdrawn. Would only speak curtly when spoken to during Pack meets and once those were over, he'd be gone as fast as lightning. He'd never hang out afterwards with the Pack and he'd always refuse to eat anything Em made for us ... would raise his eyebrow and sneer in contempt before silently sloping off on yet another patrol.

Like I said, Paul Lahote changed from a fiesty, free spirit into a sullen, brooding lone wolf practically overnight with no explanation at all. And I hated the change in him. Hated the way he was so determined to ignore me, as well as his glacial, cruelly sarcastic and hurtful attitude towards Emily. I hated the way I was slowly, but surely, losing my best friend and Pack brother. And I had no way of stopping it ... It was out of my hands and out of my control ... And the worst thing about it all ? Despite Paul's cold reserve and animosity, I missed him terribly and just wanted my best friend back. But Paul ? He was being his usual stubborn bastard self about the whole damn thing and refused to play ball ... And other than Alpha commanding him to stay by my side - which was something I was loathe to do as I wanted him to do it of his own free will 'cause he wanted to - there was damn all I could do about it.

Closing my eyes, I took a calming breath before attempting another trip down a certain long African river. There was no way in hell Paul had been here. My mind was playing tricks on me. I'd imagined it. I must have. But as soon as I inhaled deeply once more, that certain enticing scent became more intense and proved me wrong. There was no way I could deny it. For some reason known only to himself, Paul had been here.

I couldn't get my head around why my Beta had suddenly decided to turn up on my doorstep. Not when he'd been so grimly and perversely determined to avoid me at all cost over the past few weeks. But thanks to his scent, I couldn't deny that he'd come to me ... and once I realized the blood I'd smelled earlier was his, I quickly sobered up. I suddenly felt sick to the bottom of my stomach. All too aware that my best friend had been here ... had left without a word ... And the worst thing of all, is that I may have hurt him badly - maybe even raped him - and I couldn't remember any of it. Just the thought that I was capable of doing something so abhorrent, so heinous, to someone who meant a great deal to me, filled me with self-loathing and disgust. I hated not being able to recall last night's goings on ... that everything and anything that may have happened was beyond my grasp ... as elusive and intangible as smoke or mist. And the more I thought back, the more the truth eluded me.

Groaning softly, I sat forward with my elbows resting on my knees and bowing my head, I covered my face with my palms. Paul's scent combined with his blood and the odour of sex, musk and sweat taunted me. Made me feel guilty as hell over a crime I may or may not have committed. Not knowing how badly I'd hurt Paul ate away at me. And I'd always hated being kept in the dark or not knowing things. I took a deep, ragged breath and dragged a trembling hand slowly down my face. Whether I wanted to or not, I needed to know what had happened between us ... I had to, otherwise I'd go crazy. And in order to avoid just that, I needed confirmation. Verified proof from, surprize, surprize, the one person who was hellbent on avoiding me. Paul. And my gut was already screaming at me how unlikely that would be, now that I'd apparently crossed a line with my Beta. That helping me and confirming how I'd probably seriously fucked up would be the last thing he'd want to do ... That I'd be - if I even rated that dubious honour - the last thing on Paul's list of priorities. And I was all too aware what Paul's response would be to that request. It was a no-brainer. Paul - if I ever managed to get him to talk to me - wouldn't hesitate to tell me in no uncertain terms to fuck off and leave him alone ... and he'd be well within his rights to do so.

No matter how I looked at the situation, I was seriously screwed.

XXXXX

A week later.

Leah's pov:

I really can't help worrying about Paul. He's not been himself for weeks now and the poor bastard looks fucking awful. It's as if he's slowly wasting away before me and lost the will to live and it's not like our resident loudmouth to be so quiet ... so reticent. But he is. He's become withdrawn and unhappiness positively radiates off him. Especially if you bother to look into his eyes. They're by far his best assets. Stunningly beautiful, dark like molasses. Deep and mysterious. Brimming with sharp intelligence and sparkling with mischief. They're mesmerizing. And once upon a time, he'd never fail to use them to his advantage. But not anymore. Now, they're circled with dark shadows caused by lack of sleep. And where they once glowed with life and passion, they now appear lifeless. Numb. Though every once in a while, if you catch him in a rare, unguarded moment you may just see a fleeting glimmer of overwhelming pain and intense anguish that takes your breath away and you find your heart slowly begins to break for him. And then, all too quickly, that look's gone. Vanished. Leaving you at a complete loss and unsure if you've imagined it in the first place.

I can tell something's desperately wrong with him. Hell ! I can fucking feel it. It's tangible. He doesn't do it deliberately though. In fact, he desperately goes out of his way to avoid showing or sharing his feelings with anyone, so it's not as if he's doing it deliberately or with the sole purpose to make everyone else miserable ... 'cause he doesn't. But I can't help feeling hurt, 'cause he's hurting and after Jake and Seth, Paul happens to be one of the few people I care about deeply. So, when our big, bad wolf's suffering, I share his pain. I just wish he'd confide in me. That he'd share his thoughts and feelings instead of going through all this alone. 'Cause watching Paul like this damn near breaks my heart and I can't stand seeing him in such torment. I really want to help him, to be there for him and so far, for me, I've been pretty patient with him. But now ? Now, I've had enough. I'd intended to wait 'til he was willing to let me in ... for him to confide in me and tell me what was really bugging him. And I felt helpless knowing I couldn't do anything 'til Paul was inclined to let me help him. So now, I'm going to prove that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and that I'm not Sue Clearwater's daughter for nothing ... I'm going to get to the bottom of this and find out what has my "brother" slowly dying before my very eyes and put a fucking stop to it. 'Cause whether our Paulie wants it or not, he's getting my help and support 'cause to put it simply, he's family ... and I love him dearly.

XXXXX

Paul's pov:

I just don't get it ... I don't understand. It's been over two freakin' weeks, for crying out loud ... I should be better by now. But I'm not. If anything I feel even worse than I did at the beginning. Virus, my fucking ass ! This ain't no bug ... if it was, it'd be long gone after twenty four hours. And if I'm honest, it's seriously freaking me out.

It just doesn't make sense. Then again, nothing makes much sense to me these days. I'm constantly tired. I daren't admit it, but I feel listless and lethargic ... even weak. And for a wolf, those are really bad things to feel. The most worrying thing is my loss of appetite. Nothing appeals to me any more. I'm not even tempted. And for me, the Pack's resident glutton, that's virtually unheard of. But the worst thing is if I dare to eat something, I can't keep it down. And that scares me. A lot ...

I know I look like shit ... that my body's changing. Deteriorating. My russet skin has a sickly pallor. I've lost a helluva lot of weight and my muscle tone's not as defined as it was. Shit ! If anything, my body's more lithe. It's wiry and sleek ... more athletic, unlike the rest of the Pack's pumped up, gym bunny look. I dunno if I'm imagining it or if I'm slowly going crazy, but I'd swear on my life that I've also shrunk. Fucking shrunk ! Impossible, I know ... but I have. Somewhere along the line, I've lost essential inches ... I'm shorter, only slightly taller than our feisty she-wolf and I can't help hoping that no one else has noticed that. Yup, it's very naive of me ... but I know damn well that once my Pack brothers spot that, then I'm in for a world of endless ribbing and piss taking.

Having to stay away from my precious imprint's not doing my health any good either. I really - and I mean really - miss Sam. I miss his company and the way his calm presence always soothes my volatile, hair-trigger temper. And that's not all I fucking miss ... I just want to see him. To feast my eyes on him. Devour him. I long to hear his gruff, husky voice. To listen to that deep, sexy growl ... the one that makes my toes curl with need and desire. Want to smell his clean, virile, musky scent with its woodsy, citrusy undertones. To feel his large, powerful body wrapped possessively, protectively, around mine and for that hard, silken length to take me to nirvana. Want to taste Sam's lips, to lick that glistening sheen of perspiration from the broad expanse of his smooth chest. But I can't. His Alpha command denies me any of that. I'm left with a hunger for him that's impossible to satiate and a constant craving to be with the one who's effectively my entire world. One who's banished me from his presence ... permanently.

Damn ! I wish I could hate Sam for what he's done to me. For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else. But I can't. He's the reason why I'm like this. Why I'm a broken shell of a man. A lone wolf who's wasting away without its soul mate. If anyone else had treated me so badly, I wouldn't have hesitated to point the finger of blame firmly at them. But this is Sam, my imprint and I can't ... I just can't. And my excuse for that ? It's 'cause I love him. I love him with every fibre of my being. He's everything to me ... even though I clearly mean nothing to him.

So, that's why I'm on another patrol. Anything to distract me ... to try to take my mind off my imprint. To not have to think of him. Stupid of me, I know. It's futile even to try as all imprinted wolves know without a shadow of a doubt that their imprints are the be all and end all of their lives. Their imprint is what gives them purpose ... gives their lives meaning. And Sam's effectively stripped me of all of that and laid me fucking bare. Left me at my lowest. Weak. Powerless. And what I'd always feared the most ... vulnerable. 'Cause when I'm vulnerable, I act irrationally. Without thought. And without thought or care, I'm reckless ... and that makes me a danger to not only myself but to others too.

I still feel like absolute shit and I can't help feeling guilty over how upset and worried Leah'd be if she knew I'd gone out on patrol without telling her. But that's all I'm good for now. Patrolling. It's all I have left. I've nothing ... have nothing to look forward to, to live for, unlike my Pack brothers and sister who've all happily imprinted. I envy them. Deeply. They all have what I long for. What I desperately crave. Someone they love and who loves them in return ... while I have fuck all. I'm the first wolf in recent Quileute history to be rejected by his imprint. To be denied love, hope and happiness. To be deemed unworthy of all that. And it hurts like hell ... to know that I'm not good enough or deserve any of those things.

Like I said, all I'm good for these days is patrolling and I'm starting to have my doubts about that too. I've not been feeling so hot and if Leah knew I wasn't home supposedly resting, she'd kick my furry butt well 'n' truly into touch. Don't get me wrong, I love Lee to bits, as if she were my own flesh 'n' blood, but ... I just wish she'd give all the "mother hen-ing" thing a rest already as she can be one frighteningly over-protective bitch when it comes to those she cares for. And that can be really overwhelming and pretty daunting if you happen to be the poor bastard she's decided to take charge of. So, if she gets wind about just how rough I feel she's going to go bat-shit crazy on my ass.

For some reason, I've been getting lots of headaches over the past couple of days. Bad ones. Couple those with the tight, crushing sensation I feel around my chest, the odd moments of breathlessness and the continuous bouts of nausea and constant vomiting, no wonder I'm beginning to feel I'd be better off dead. Thank god I've only ten more minutes to go before Jared and Seth take over from me, 'cause right now I'm starting to think Leah had a good point about me staying home. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud, but Leah was right. I should've been in bed or at least within sprinting distance to my new bff in the bathroom, who I'd gotten intimately acquainted with over the past few weeks.

Suddenly, I'm struck by an unexpected wave of intense pain. It sears and courses through my veins like fire, forcing me to shift back into human form and fall to my knees. By now, my chest's tighter than usual and I begin to gasp frantically for air. I ache all over and the pain makes me feel lightheaded. All I can hear is incessant buzzing in my ears and sounds I usually recognize, I can't tell apart.

The last thought I have before falling into darkness is, "Shit ! I'm so dead ... Leah's going to fucking kill me ..."