The Twilight Series belongs to S. Meyer, no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing with the characters.

AN: Things will move fast but I can't guarantee I'll be naming who "he" is quite yet. D

Words were meaningless. She was ashamed to admit even words she had spoken were meant nothing more than the breath she used to speak them. The look on his face when she ended it. She knew without a doubt that she had torn his heart from his chest and stomped on it. Telling him the feelings they had, the things they did together were wrong, sordid, and meant to remain a deep, dark secret.

No one told her that secrets could eat you alive from the inside out. Every day since that day she was playing in the biggest farce of her life; acting like she was happy when she was miserable. Using a smile to cover her frown. Makeup to cover the dark circles and red-rimmed eyes from her lack of sleep and nightly tears.

But everyone around her was happy—Sam, her parents, and his mom. She kept reminding herself; she could do this. It was for the best. Sam had been through something he couldn't speak of but she saw the worry in his eyes as he glanced at other young men in the tribe. Worrying, watching, and waiting for something big.

When Emily came to visit in July; she relished the opportunity to talk to someone. Openly, without fear of reprisal or censure. Emily was her best friend and she couldn't just say what happened over the phone. It was too personal, intimate, and private.

At least his words weren't meaningless. Emily's arrival signified the final nail in her coffin. She didn't even get an opportunity to ask for Emily's advice because one moment Emily was her best friend, cousin, and sister and the next she was too busy sneaking side glances at Sam while he did the same. She was an unwilling participant in some fucked-up love triangle. And it wasn't even that she wanted Sam anymore—it was the fact he promised her and she gave him everything she had left.

Now she was alone. Trapped in her mind's torturous repeat of her life. Cycling over and over; never-ending. Each and every moment re-lived with the emotional factor quadrupling. She couldn't breathe right anymore. Her heart's rhythm faltered.

She watched in abject horror as Sam and Emily presented a united front and apologized to her. "We're sorry, Leah. It just happened. I love her and she loves me." Her eyes darting back and forth between the two; it was enough to make her dizzy. She even pinched her arm for good measure; hoping a little physical pain would wake her up. But she was well and truly fucked; Fate hated her as her cousin added, "This was meant to be—it's Fate. I never felt complete until I met him. There was always something missing."

She stared at them, her mouth hanging open. The words she wanted to say were too crude and cruel but nothing else was coming to mind. She snapped her mouth shut, hoping to hold them inside but they tumbled out with a vengeance.

"You—you fucking bastard! How dare you stand here in front of me and tell me this shit! Two weeks ago you asked me to marry you and now—now you're in love with my cousin?! Why didn't you stay missing—I wish you never returned."

The besotted expressions on the pair's faces shriveling away to nothingness as they took her words in. And they were stupid to think she was done with them. "And you, Evily. You backstabbing, conniving bitch. I might have been dumb enough to believe the bullshit he told me but you—I should have known. You talk in your fucking sleep! I heard you last summer—heard every word and every time you called out his name! He was my fucking boyfriend—fiancé and you couldn't wait to get your claws into him."

She wanted to say so much more but her anger was burning through her body; it made her muscles and bones ache, her vision fuzzy, and her ears rang. She needed to get away from them before she did something stupid. "Just stay the fuck away from me. I don't care what you two do. If you see me somewhere—I don't care where—the rez, Forks, Port Angeles, stranded in the fucking woods. Don't look at me, don't approach me, and sure as fuck don't talk to me."

With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked away. She barged into her childhood home with the remnants of her anger and misery over her situation fresh on her mind. What the hell had she been thinking? Why had she said goodbye to him?

She watched from the shadows as it happened. Her dad was always busy with council business. And the young men of the tribe—the ones Sam had been watching so closely began to follow him around. Like he was some leader or general was the better term. And each new member seemed to be in tune with the others. Moving with military precision; their surroundings and the happenings which occurred were evaluated and catalogued.

Was there some unknown danger in La Push? Something only they could see? she wondered idly. First Jared, then Paul; Embry followed closely behind the two older boys and barely a week later it was Jake and Quil in quick succession. Where there was once one peculiar person with strange mannerisms—by the end of the September there were six of them.

Six overgrown youths with senses too sharp to be normal. She suspected they could see and hear things she couldn't. Too often their gazes would shoot her way as they fought with one another. The air holding a tenor of violence but their voices remained low—whispers softer than the flap of a butterfly's wings.

And he was one of them. Any hope she had of reconciliation was dashed the moment he joined Sam's group. It didn't take long before there were females to match the number of males. Emily was the first but as each youth joined; it seemed another female did too.

Rachel Black came back to visit her father for the first time in over a year. Her visit was only going to last two weeks and she promised Leah they would get together for lunch. The promise and plans made quickly forgotten as Rachel joined the club.

Isabella Swan was next, followed by Kim Connweller, and then a girl from Forks she didn't recognize—she thought perhaps her name was Amanda or Angela. The last one was Emily's cousin on her dad's side, Claire Young. She was the same age as Leah but had a definite wild streak to her. The few times she had been around Claire involved alcohol and boys—there may have even been some girls too. She couldn't remember.

There was no rhyme or reason for the additions to the weird boy-man army. She spent too much time trying to figure out why. Analyzing every possibility and coming up empty. She pressured her dad for some type of answer about Sam and his goons' activities. Sometimes lodging the pettiest of complaints; their violent outbursts, the litter they left one day on First Beach when they rushed off on some errand, and their general aversion to shirts.

Nothing worked. Her dad pretended ignorance and grew annoyed at her complaints. "Leah, mind your own business. They're not causing anyone any harm. Leave it alone."

Even when Sam's intense gaze focused on her brother; there was no change to her dad's stance on the subject. The same changes she had noticed only months ago appearing in her little brother. His body was that of a gangly youth one day and a bodybuilder the next. His sunny disposition changed to sullen and angry. He grumbled, complained, and was a general bigger pain in her ass than he had ever been.

Something was happening in La Push—had been happening for a long time and she got the feeling it was much more sinister and dark than she could imagine. Boys growing into men overnight, complete with personality transplants. The fact they followed her ex around like little lost puppy dogs. And the girls—since when did a gang need a bunch of girlfriends? She knew they were paired off as she had been witness to their group lording over the rez like they were royalty. Maybe that was the key—she wondered if she could sneak a peek at some of the old records. Or perhaps, it was some bizarre mating ritual—arranged marriages and she just hadn't been selected as a favorable mate.

FF_8756144_9 12/08/12 7:47PM