AN

Epilogue aside, this will be the last chapter. So, there are some people I need to thank;

7Cerberus7
alicecullenisrealinmyworld
AttackOftheNerdling
catk241
Cesca
crazylove13
crazyreaderduh
esyuen
Hanski
Helewisetran
ImDaMnShOrTaNdPrOuD
Japanesegirl388
JellyBeane
jblc
kimmmz
LivLifeForever
lottie14b
machdalena
Maniacinthemaking
nabela
PuRpLeLuVeR28
Reading Kiwi
VampireGirl7898
xxSillyWillyxx
XxXWolvesInTheNightXxX

Wouldn'ta' been possible without ya'll.

As love without esteem is capricious and volatile; esteem without love is languid and cold.
Jonathan Swift

Please Enjoy.

I was never sad that I no longer felt the effects of the weather after my change. It was quite a convenient perk among the regrettable symptoms of the werewolf 'condition'. But just because I wasn't bothered by the weather doesn't mean that I couldn't tell what it was, or that I couldn't remember what was normal to wear in what weather. For instance, 'That' I thought, when I saw Myra arrive with Jared, 'is not normal for this weather.'

She wore a black turtleneck sweater and a skirt that reached just past her knees, with tall black boots coming up to cover what the skirt didn't. She also had on huge sunglasses with her hair uncharacteristically falling over her face. It was a warm day; too warm for a full cover-up, but it wasn't the weather she had on her mind when she had dressed this morning.

I'd watched through Jacob's eyes as Myra had become more comfortable with her scars, and being around Jacob, but she still didn't like being out in public, and she still stood so that Jake would hold her right hand, not her left. But Jake was lucky; his relationship was well on its way. Pretty soon they would be regularly going out, kissing, moving in together, and starting a life, and my stunning lovely brilliantly-stubborn Kim and I hadn't even spoken in weeks. I still saw her, and knew that she was okay, but I missed the sound of her voice.

I knew she would be here today, but I worried every time that it started to drizzle that she would use it as an excuse to bail. The light wind and rain was depressing, and made the day seem like it should be colder than it was, providing the ideal cover for Myra.

It was the perfect day for a funeral.

"A famous writer once said 'We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give'," a man started his eulogy for his daughter, niece, student, or maybe just friend, "If that is true, then Alysha made a great life. She was the most giving person I've ever known. And judging from the nodding heads I see in front of me, it seems that many of you agree."

He continued with his story of her life. Everyone told their side. It felt strange to think that even though I'd only known her for a minute or two, I knew her better than anyone else there. I knew the side of her that she hid under the shield that everyone else thought they knew.

I wouldn't be sharing my account of her life however; these people wanted and deserved to hear only the best things.

For a while, Jake had wanted to tell them. He wanted revenge for what she had done to Myra. Only she was able to talk him out of it, in the end. That would only hurt her family, and, ultimately, he had gotten his revenge.

It wasn't the injuries alone that caused her decease, it was the infections she'd caught from sneaking out of her room, and being out and about when she should've been sleeping, but she wouldn't've been in the hospital at all if it weren't for Jake.

I smelled my sweet 'n fabulous, perfect angel Kim. It was my favourite smell. She was a couple rows in front of me. She stood near the edge, pushing herself away from the family, while trying to stay as close to Alysha as possible.

I knew that she blamed Jacob, and myself as well for being like him. She hated me and was scared of me. It was a wolf's worst nightmare.

I followed her when she prematurely left. I called out after her, and received some dirty glares from the mourners behind me.

I caught up to her easily. "Kim, can we talk?"

"No," was her reply.

"Well, we have to." She just kept walking. "We can do it on any terms you'd like; in a public place, from ten feet away, tossing paper airplanes with notes on them back and forth. We'll do it your way, but we really need to talk about it.

"How about we talk in a court of law?"

"Oh, Kimmie," her face became angry when I used the forbidden nickname, "it's actually kind of a secret. Like, a tribe secret. If you wanted, you could get one of the elders to explain it."

"What are you talking about?"

I moved in closer, not wanting anyone else to hear what I would say next, "The Quileute legends are true. We turn into wolves- but, only as protectors."

She processed what I had just said. The area around us was private enough; several hills hid us from anyone who would intrude on the situation. I leaned back down to her so I could whisper; they always took it better if you said it in a whisper, "Werewolves are real, but they're only real to keep everyone safe from The Cold Ones-vampires. Now, you don't have to freak out. You're not in any danger as long as I'm here." I was sure my pack mates would surely be jealous of my near perfect delivery of the 'imprint speech'.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she said, to my surprise. "The Spirit Warriors in the legends... Well, they're not..." she stumbled for words, then turned and stared to walk away.

I walked beside her. "Come on Kimmie," I received another evil glare, "you have such an advantage over the other im- people we've told. For God's sake, you already know it's true! Don't make me feel like a fool. I know you know, you just have to let yourself believe it."

After a minute, her face stared to whip through different emotions and states of thought. She bit her lip, and nodded her head. I wanted to kiss her so badly. My lips ached for hers. I saw her shoulders relaxed for the first time since...well, the first time. I was having strange urges to pick her up by the waist and spin her around like they do in the movies.

"Well..." she looked confused, then hit me with a strange response, "So do you change when the moon comes out, cause it's getting dark?"

"No-"

"But you're a wolf?" she cut me off.

"Yes, b-"

"A big one"

"Yes."

"Red?"

"Brown," I replied quickly, realizing that I wouldn't be able to give any in depth answers until she finished her mental list of questions.

"And you're all like this?"

"There's six of us," I answered truthfully, as Quil had recently entered the pack.

"But the elders know?"

"Most of 'em."

"Billy?"

"Yep."

"Harry?"

"Yep."

"Quil Sr.?"

"Yep." The words bounced back and forth between us faster than I'd've thought possible.

"And this is why you're so strong?"

"Yes."

"And hot?"

"Well," I faked laughed, "I was born a pretty attractive fella." I looked her in the eyes and smiled. I was happy to find her smiling back at me. It was a faint little sucker, but it was sure as hell there. I pretended to realize what she meant, "Ooooh, you meant," I laughed again, "you meant temperature."

Then, I heard a mysterious group of invisible singing angels descended from heaven. Oh, sorry, it wasn't angels, just Kim laughing at my lame joke. It sounded like angels though. Her laugh was beautiful.

She grabbed my hand. Her palm felt soft against mine; her skin was soft like silk. I watched our hands together, and when I glanced up at her eyes I saw that she was watching them too. Did she see how they fit like two pieces of a puzzle?

"So," she remembered what she was going to say, "let's say that you are a werewolf, and that you do have all these secret super powers and stuff," I trusted that she did believe me, and that this was just an opening to some question, "Why tell me?"

I smiled. "This is the easiest one so far."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yep, super easy,"

"I dunno, you answered the other ones pretty fast." She could sense that I was stalling.

"Yep, it's really really easy."

"Well, go on then."

"I've told you," I paused for dramatic effect, "Because I love you."

Her eyes looked up and met my eyes, and before I knew it, her lips met my lips. They crashed into mine as her available hand was thrown around my neck. I put my other hand on the small of her back and pulled her up towards me.

I cannot do justice to her beauty or perfection with my prose, and my lovely Kim's faultless kiss cannot be expressed through words.

We were like that for some time, and...well, I'll just let Edmund Vance Cooke wrap it up:

Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
Be not loathe to tell them so.
Lips go dry and eyes grow wet
Waiting to be warmly met.
Keep them not in waiting yet;
Kisses kept are wasted.

So, there you have it.

The only thing left is an epilogue, which is completely up to you.

Should I do one of their engagements? Weddings? Years in the future, when they all have kids? Some strange mix of a couple of them? Prom? Any other ideas?

Review. You have two weeks to do so, cause I'm going to write it as soon as I get back from vacation.