The Twilight Series belongs to S. Meyer, no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing with the characters.
He ran after her. Her thoughts still silent to them but her scent was easy for him to follow. Wildflowers. His wolf was pulled in the direction she was running. He didn't expect what he saw when he finally caught up to her.
Her soft sobs filled the air as she kneeled naked as the day she was born next to a small stream. The water moved swiftly enough that it was only tinged slightly pink as she scrubbed at her hands. The smell of salt overpowered her scent.
Sam's disappearance and reappearance, her decision to say goodbye to him, and even Emily and Sam's later betrayal hadn't broken her. But this—this could be the final straw.
He phased back to his human form and slowly moved towards her. His footsteps silent as he crept closer. The closer he got to her it quickly became apparent that her hands were long since clean. The water flowing was clean and clear once again but it didn't stop her obsession with washing them.
His heart bled for her. It wasn't her fault what happened. The very reason they were all assigned wolf-watching duty for Seth was to ensure if the phase was imminent that they could intervene and prevent possible harm.
He couldn't even begin to think what Emily thought she was doing. She had been told multiple times to leave Leah alone. Though Leah didn't have all the facts—Harry did see his niece occasionally at a pack meeting. But she had been told by Harry to stay away from their house. Sue knew nothing about the wolves, the imprints—nothing about the secrets of the tribe.
And just like that day so many months ago, he fell to his knees behind her and pulled her into his arms. His longer arms allowed him to reach around and pull her hands out of the water. Her wet, icy hands were covered with his warm ones.
"Shh, it's okay," he murmured in her ear.
Her sobs grew louder with his first words. He knew without a doubt that she was mourning. Mourning the loss of her innocence. The realization that not only monsters were real but she was now one of them.
He didn't care what the elders said. This wasn't an honor. It was a curse. Not only did he fursplode onto four legs at will—he also did it whenever Sam commanded it.
Those first few weeks were hell. His thoughts were never his own; forced to share them with the others and Sam. He hated Sam—the person he had looked up to once was nothing more than a controlling bastard.
The moment Sam caught a glimpse of his thoughts—an Alpha order was issued. And he was powerless to it. Every word, glance, and touch was pulled from his memories against his will. It made him sick to think of that day. The violation he had felt at Sam's intrusion and his guilt over his unintended betrayal of Leah.
He continued to hold her tightly. The warmth of his body seeping into hers until she was warmed—her temperature just as hot as his. He crooned in her ear; apologizing for the words he had said to her that day. Telling her how much he missed and needed her. And most of all reassuring her that everything would be okay—even if he didn't truly believe it.
"Is this why," her voice raspy from her tears. "My dad knows doesn't he?"
He sighed. It was going to be a long day. "Yes," he answered hanging his head and wishing this was just a nightmare.
"Does she become one too?"
Even without her saying Emily's name he knew that was what she meant. "No—it's something different."
"Different how? Does that mean there's something wrong with me? Do any of them change," she asked anxiously; pulling away from him at the same time.
He tried to hide the conflicting emotions that ran across his face. How was he to answer her questions when he didn't even understand? He couldn't give her all the answers. At his silence, she pushed against him and he dropped his arms to his side.
She stood abruptly. Her bare flesh on display and he couldn't help his reaction. He had dreamed of her every night. It was only in the darkness of night that he could pretend nothing had changed. She was still his and he was hers. He imagined that she lay next to him and they planned their future together.
"Tell me," she demanded, her voice shrill; arms flailing. "This—me—it isn't right, is it? That's why you're not saying anything."
He stood and grabbed her wrists to keep her arms still. "I don't know," he confessed softly. "You're the only girl."
He was unprepared for her anger. She wrenched her wrists from his grasp. Clenching her fists and pounded them against his chest while screamed at him, at Sam, at her father, and finally at the sky. Cursing the ancestors and their gift.
Her anger didn't last long. Within minutes she was crying again in earnest, clinging to him. Her small frame being drowned by his larger one. And he did the only thing he could think of to comfort her.
His arms pulling her closer and up toward him while he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. It was as though nothing bad had happened between them. The last few months disappearing—the hurt, anger, and regret washed away at the first touch of their lips.
"Please," she begged softly; her hands threading through his hair.
He deepened the kiss at her plea. His hands stroked her from shoulders down to her ass cheeks and back up. Back and forth; his hands and fingers re-explored the skin that had once been as familiar as his own.
As his mouth moved downward along her jaw and neck; he snuffled her skin and breathed her scent in. A light bulb turning on as he realized why she smelled the same but yet different. His scent didn't cling to her skin—time and distance has washed it away.
He vowed to make it cling to her once again. It wasn't natural for it to be absent. Finally, there was something he and his wolf were in agreement with. And frankly, it was about time.
Together they dropped to the ground, barely breaking contact to do so. He pushed her onto her back while she pulled him toward her. He settled between her thighs, rubbing his hardness against her center. His mouth opened and captured one of her nipples; his mouth and tongue sucking and licking the firm peak.
She arched up; her fingers stroked his skin, reaching, pulling, and grabbing. Seeking purchase where they could. Her legs spreading further apart before she lifted them to wrap around his waist. Using her strength to pull him closer to her as she reached to grip his cock. She grasped him tightly, lining him up while she waited for him to make the next move.
He shunted against her slick flesh, coating his cock with the moisture that wept from her. He nudged at her opening and she moaned; the fingers of her other hand dug into his skin. He pushed forward slowly to give her time to adjust. It had been so long since he had been surrounded by her and she was so tight.
The ridged muscles tensed around him; flexing and releasing as they pulled him deeper inside. It was like their first time all over again. He tried to keep his thrusts as soft and slow as he entered but he couldn't. She felt too good and he needed her.
He held himself up and looked into her face. It was stained with her recent tears. Her nose was red and her eyes were swollen. Despite this, she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
He kissed her, murmuring against her lips. Her hands in his hair which pulled him closer as she met him thrust for thrust. His movements faster and harder; meeting her eagerness. His hips snapped against hers; his pubic bone rubbed against her swollen clit.
The sensations of their movements quickly proved to be too much for her and she raked her nails down his back. His name was what she cried out as she came. The tears that leaked from her eyes weren't in sadness but something deeper that she barely understood.
It had always been him—it would always be him. Without him she couldn't breathe, think, or even feel. A shadow of her former self.
His hands turned rough on her body as he held her close; trying to make the space between them disappear. The need he had to make them one overruled all his other needs. He knew his fingers had—were leaving marks on her body. But he would find a way to make them better.
"I love you," he cried out hoarsely as he came; his head buried in her neck.
Their bodies were slick with sweat but this time as he snuffled her neck; he felt at peace. She smelled like him and he knew it was the same for him. He had been fighting his imprint for so long but even he could admit it was getting harder. But now he had something to fight for—her.
He turned, pulling her with him. He knew there was going to be fallout from this but he refused to regret his choice. Somehow, someway, she was going to be his, and he, hers. He refused to believe it was meant to be any other way.
FF_8756144_11 12/10/12 9:15PM