Disclaimer – I own nothing.

A.N – Wow! The amount of support and interest that you guys have shown this story is AMAZING! I know I'm cutting it a super close for updating, but I figure it's better I update the last day possible for January than NEXT MONTH and break my word. After much thought, I have decided to throw any semblance of "down to Earth" that I was trying to hold on to out the window. You guys told me the truth (that I was failing), and I listened. There aren't words to express my gratitude, so instead – on to the shout outs!

To mum2shane, 4Gracie04, Natasha Trahan, 8goose8, Crisely, Renee, alba1020, Wolf Born Woman, Passing-Glance, jayley, Imnotsurereally, kouga's older woman, PastOneonta, darkpurplefairyprincess, Debbie Hicks, , Teresa, BeckieT108, margaretgriffin, Miznana, Guest, , natashar, twin268, Flower2001, shay205, teamjacob0729, booklovur217, K Krystine, Red Swarm, YouHaveGOT2BeKiddingMe, TiffaniW: Seriously, you guys are so great that I wish I could give you a legitimate hug! You guys are so awesome for simply reviewing, and answering my questions and worries! Every single time I see a review in my inbox, my face practically lights up!

Last but definitely NOT least, I want to thank all you silent readers out there! And to those who favorite and follow! You guys are awesome too, because it lets me know that you guys are reading and ENJOYING the story!

/And if in the moment I bite my lip,

Baby, in that moment you'll know this is something bigger

Than us and beyond bliss; give me a reason to believe it/

-Love Me Harder, Ariana Grande ft. The Weeknd

Chapter 5 – A Whole New Set of Passions and Pride

Green. Trees. Earth. Wind.

Run. Harder. Don't stop. Never stop. Jacob.

Breathe. So close. Pull.

Inhale. Exhale. Scream. JacobJacobJacob.

Eyes lock. Heat spreads. Legs and lungs burn. Please.

Further. Faster. YesYesYes. JacobJacobJacob.

Back turns. No. Scream. Jacob. Reach. Arms outstretched. Heart longing.

Pain. Pull. Darkness.

Gasp! Eyes open. Bed solid. Walls purple.

Darkness. Alone. Pull.

"What's wrong?" Jacob asks me Monday morning as we park in the parking lot of Forks High.

What's wrong? How could I tell him without feeling like a fool? Pull. It comforts me in a way that it wouldn't have before. It's familiar, and warm, and a reminder that I belong to Jacob. It reminds me that he's mine, too.

Jacob tips my face up with his fingers gently. They ghost over my face, and the inside of the truck feels like it's 98 degrees. It's burning. I'm burning up for him. I'm always on fire for him, since the day we re-met.

"I—I had a dream last night," I whisper. My heart drums a thousand beats per minute, and I know he can feel it like it's his own heart. Together.

"Oh? So did I," he teases me…I think. It's a reference to The Tragedy isn't it? It has to be. Or maybe I'm just a bookworm. Maybe if I follow through he'll think I'm crazy.

Pull. Imprint. Together. It tells me all I need to know.

"What was yours?" I smile lightly. Please, oh please let it have been a reference.

"That dreamers often lie," he tips his nose against mine, and I'm lost for a moment. I'm lost in him, and around him, and I remember my dream so clearly.

"Romeo and Juliet," I pull away but smile warmly. "Didn't take you for a classics kind of guy."

He doesn't let the space between us last more than a moment, and he tugs me closer. I go to him, helpless at his will. Alpha. Mine.

"I'm not," he whispers, and the Pull reacts violently. It wants more, so much more. "But I know you are, so I made it my business to know a bit. Paul, believe it or not, is into all that crap."

"Hey!" I act affronted. I'm not, not really. My own mother had called my first love crap all the time in passing. "It's not crap, just an acquired taste."

"I've gotten a taste alright," he laughs and I can't help but smile wider. "I've gotten a taste for you. I think I'm whipped."

The mock-shame on his face is so close to how I know he really feels, that I can't help but laugh out loud. It's a short burst of laughter that rises from my gut, it's so sudden. If only he knew how whipped I was, he'd know how much power he really has.

But the power and the pull are just a reminder of the dream…of everything that I could lose. I know he feels the shift in emotion, and shifts so he can bury his head in my neck and hair. He's so close, yet so far that I want him like the moon wants the ocean—it pulls the tide away from shore, but then relents and lets it go back. It's a wanting too wrapped up in itself—confused—without beginning or end.

Oh God, will I ever survive wanting him this much? I have to survive it, because I can't be tamed by it. He doesn't want that. I don't want that, either.

"Talk to me, Bells," he says huskily in my ear. I know my haywire emotions are making his go wild. Since when am I Bells? But I don't ask. It feels right. It feels like home. Like when my father calls me Bells, only so much more.

"I dreamt that I was running towards you," I start. Anything to distract me from the need that presses down on me like a rockslide. "But no matter how much, or hard I ran I couldn't get to you. I—I felt so lost and alone, and you just stood there. Waiting for me. But you never tried to run towards me. And I was running so hard, at one point I thought I was flying, I was going so fast, but then you just walked away."

My throat closes, and my eyes water at the memory of how it all felt. It was just a dream. Just a dream. But it felt so—there aren't even words to describe how much it pained me to see him walk away from me. Jacob. My Jacob. But he wasn't mine anymore, not in this dream where I ran towards him and he just stood there. Cold.

"Look at me," Jacob grabs me gently and roughly simultaneously by the neck. There's an urgency in his touch that calls to me. My eyes snap to him, and it grounds me. Just a dream. "I would never not run towards you. Not ever. Not if the sun fucking fell in on the Earth."

I know he's telling the truth. I know. But the words leave me, unchecked. "You say that because of the Imprint."

"Fuck the imprint," Jacob responds savagely, and I know the beast is right beneath the surface. My doubt challenges the man and the wolf – his eyes turned-amber are all the proof I need. But the pull and sudden tingle in my fingertips and toes make me fearless.

The tingle is new, but not unwelcome. I could never be afraid of him. Fuck the imprint. Perhaps he has a point. Together. Merge, not remake. Maybe he would care without the imprint, and maybe I'd be bat-shit crazy without the imprint, too.

He sees my dwindling doubt and he presses his point home, the only way a teenager can, really. His lips claim mine, and his moan is a mixture of pleasure and pain. Or maybe it's my own moan that sounds like that. Maybe we're hurting each other, but we can't stop because the hurt is so good. It's as good as any worded logic.

"Fuck the imprint," he repeats slowly, pushing his sentiment home. No one could ever claim that Jacob is a wordsmith, but even Shakespeare couldn't refute his effectiveness.

Because his simple, raw, rough-around-the-edges words make me believe in him so much more than any pull, or imprint ever could.

"Fuck, Bells," I feel his desire crash into me. We're in a whirlwind of fear, and desire, and I'm too high and lost to care. The way he says "Bells" doesn't feel like home anymore. It feels like the greatest secret ever known to man.

"If you knew the nasty shit I thought about you, you wouldn't claim the imprint has anything to do with us. The imprint is Earth, and Wind, and Water, and Alpha-centric. Me? You? This?" he lifts me and settles me on top of him, legs on either side of him. I feel him completely, and my face lights up like the Fourth of July, but I could care less who sees. I'm past that. We're past that. "This is all us, baby girl. The imprint can't force this kind of desire."

I want to care, I do. I want to let myself be reassured, but the instant I felt him, all reason escaped me, and I am left wanting. His words are dirty, in a whole new way for me. It's like I'm in a whole new world. I grind myself experimentally against him, and Jacob hisses and buries his face in my neck. His arms are steel around me, and I am clawing at him. Please.

I want to beg for something that I can't understand, and I know Jacob understands the silent language my body is speaking to his. His hand travels to my backside, and pushes me down against him harder.

Pure bliss—unimaginable pleasure—unmeasurable heaven spreads through me, and I am blinded for a moment. But the instance of ecstasy passes, and I want more. Please, please. Don't stop.

I know I should feel bad—my own desire is fueling his, and there could be people watching. But I feel his lips roughly traveling the road on my neck, and damn the people watching. I claw at his back with one hand and grip his hair with the other.

I moan his name, and he grips me tighter, anchoring me to him as he moves. I move clumsily against him, but I don't have time to feel self-conscious. Mine.

My breath is shallow. My limbs feel like jelly one second, then coiled the next. So much, not enough. I don't think as I lean in and bite his neck. I want him to submit to me. But I've never wanted that before now, and I realize it must be his emotions and wants bleeding into me. Doesn't matter, though, who wanted it first. I want it now. I want, and I bite down again.

It's too much, or maybe not enough, because Jacob starts to push against me in earnest. One of his hands wraps itself in my hair, and pulls harshly. Oh my. The pain is so wonderful.

I wonder for a moment why no one ever told me that pain could be so awesome. But the moment passes because Jacob is kissing me, our lips like two tornados—we could destroy the world with the force of this passion, but I can't let go. Not now that my entire body is trembling. Not now that he won't stop moving. Not now. Never. Please. Please. Please.

It's like we're climbing, flying, soaring, and then—KNOCK KNOCK!

We freeze. Jacob slowly untangles his arms from around me and leans his head back against the headrest—his eyes shut tight as he slows down his ragged breathing, and desire. He's trying to tame the wolf that I feel underneath my fingertips—the wolf that lingers in love with my tingle.

Our fire burns itself down to a slow simmer—the kind that's always under the surface all the time. I'm used to it, always there, checked, until it takes control of me again.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

I turn my face slowly, fear grabs my hand and I can't shake it off. What if it's my father? What would he say?

But it's just Principle Greene. Principle Greene who had watched me get it sort of on with Jacob in my truck. Principle Greene who is frowning so deeply that I'm worried his face might permanently stay that way. Principle Greene who knows my father.

Shoot.

As I walk into my first class, Science, I'm twenty minutes late and ten-times my normal color. I'm pretty sure I'm shades of red that aren't even invented, yet.

Everyone starts clapping (Mike and Tyler are whooping), and I practically run to my seat—which is right next to Edward Cullen.

Everyone probably witnessed me getting ravished by Jacob. Or they heard about it; Forks is small like that.

Mr. Banner tells everyone to settle down, but even he's smirking a bit in my direction. Oh God.

I bite my lip so I don't growl. I'm wound so tight, too tight.

Edward Cullen smiles at me for a moment, but with one breath his smile stills. His shoulders tense. His eyes burn black, and the aversion almost overwhelms me.

Mr. Banner tells everyone to return to their group work, and Edward takes that chance to ignore the paper before us, facing me fully.

"So, you have a boyfriend?" Edward asks me tightly. I know, but he doesn't know that I know. The pull fights with the fire, and there's too much of him—monster—surrounding me.

He doesn't even pretend to do the work, and his arrogance annoys me. No, I'm not annoyed. I'm furious. It's too much. The fire flares, and I could care less who hears me when I snap at him.

"How is that your business?"

I look away, ashamed at my lack of self-control. He sees my shame, I'm sure, but misinterprets it. He's too close.

"It's not," Edward concedes. "But, I want to spend some time with you—outside of the classroom—if you are amenable, of course."

His words were wordy, completely different to the straightforward truck-in-a-pileup crash way of Jacob. Jacob. My Jacob, and I remember how close we were.

The fire dissipates for a second, replaced by the shadows of passion at the memory of him.

Edward moves closer, touches my wrist, and my eyes snap to his. The remnants of desire wasn't for him, but it doesn't matter anymore. The fire is so complete that it overrides the aversion, and suddenly I can't breathe. I don't know if I want to get away or stay forever. Forever. No, that's not right. Forever is with Jacob. Mine. His. Together. Imprint.

But this blackness in Edward, this darkness that pulls me in a completely different type of way, scares me. Too dark. Too much. I don't want this.

But the outside pull, the one that comes from his eyes don't let the words leave my lips.

I feel trapped. Jacob.

I know Jacob feels my fear and uncertainty, and he sends his fury back to me. It consumes me like insanity consumes the grief stricken. His fury gives me strength to tear my gaze away, and snatch my hand from under Edwards cold touch. So cold. Unnatural. Monster.

"Don't touch me," I whisper. I can't bear to speak louder. It's like I'm still in this haze of darkness, though I'm no longer bound within myself.

"Why not? He touches you," Edward shoots back, and I see into him. I see myself in him, and I understand. I understand like I've never understood anything else before—not school work, or Renee, or Jacob.

I see myself like Edward sees me, and the thing is that in his eyes…I'm a trophy: a thing to be possessed. I see myself like he does, and something inside of me, something dark and deep, doesn't mind. I want to be possessed—I shiver at the thought, but once something is realized, it cannot be unrealized and I fear for myself. I fear for what this monster will turn me into.

"He's not a monster," I say with conviction. Stay away, but he doesn't, and I can't handle all the imperatives of the woman and the imprint.

There's something in his eyes—he knows that I know. No more pretenses. No more floating around the edges. I need more time.

"Just a different kind of monster," his breath flitters across my face, and the smell is intoxicating the way liquor is—disgusting at first, then an acquired taste which makes you so drunk that you don't know which way is up.

We're at a standstill—me all fire and bravado (ignoring the darkness that he calls to him), him all ice and death (purposeful in each word, step, and movement that he makes).

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Horrible idea—his smell is too much. Inhale through the mouth. Exhale through the mouth. Breathe. Better.

"He's nothing like you," venom falls from my lips, and I never thought I could ever be so spiteful. I feel those words deep inside of myself, where the pull and fire lie.

"You say that because you've never seen him hunt, Isabella." He smirks at me knowingly. I want to slap him so badly. I want to burn him to ashes, and stomp on his remains. I'm the monster between the two. "If you had seen him, you wouldn't let him touch you, I'm sure."

"I already have let him touch me with blood covering his body," I shove the truth in his face. Let him hurt. Let him know how deep my devotion goes. I can't back down. The pull and fire won't let me back down. "I would let him touch me if he had destroyed a thousand of your people."

"Why? How?" He asks me, and his eyes twinkle with curiosity at the puzzle before him.

I hate him, and the emotion is so foreign that vertigo assaults me. I've never hated anyone before. But I hate him. I hate the glimmer in his obsidian eyes, and the cultured lilt in his voice, and everything about him.

"Because I am not a toy," I call him out, fearless like I imagine Jacob to be. Jacob. Mine. Hell yes, and let Edward know it. I can care less that I'm most unlike myself right at this moment than ever before. I'll blame it on the fire. "I am not a plaything or property, and Jacob reminds me that I never have to submit to anyone including him. He—he makes me strong. Stronger than I've ever felt. He reminds me that I'm better than that. And I am. I am better than someone who submits, so you can take your supercilious smile, and your stalker-ish looks, and your over-stepping-personal-space touches and leave me the heck alone!"

My glare was fierce. My hands were in fists. My body was trembling, but I was proud. I had been tempted. I had wanted, even through the aversion, I had been wrapped for a minute in Edwards glow—like so many I see during the day. I had been trapped in a cage made of gold; but a cage made of gold is still a cage, and words whispered through prison bars lose their charm, and I had been strong enough to see through it.

I see through Edward, and behind him, past the parking lot and into the trees I see Jacob, and Paul, and Sam, and unknown faces, but it doesn't matter because they are pack, family.

I see them, and the pride escalates, until I am floating within myself. They had come to rescue me, but I hadn't needed their rescuing.

Jane Austen in still in my bag.

I was alone, and I had won.

There had been so much doubt inside myself, so much fear of Jacob leaving, of monsters attacking, of living without my first love.

But this isn't a matter of knowing I am strong—I had proven it. And the pride of my pack consumes me and elevates me to new heights.

I see Edward reach towards me again, but my words stop him in motion. "Touch me again, and you will lose your hand."

He knows I can't physically do it, but I don't need to because my pack is there, waiting for me to call them. My pack. My Family. My imprint.

And I smile, because I understand—finally, I understand that Jacob is my imprint as much as I am his. Together. Merge, not re-make.

We. All of us. We are strong in our pride, and love, and there's too much swirling within me. But I can't hide. I won't hide, not from my pack. So I open my emotions, let them feel what I feel, and let myself feel what they feel. Together.

"As you wish," Edward bows his head slightly in defeat—but his eyes are soulless, and I know this isn't him conceding defeat, but instead buying his time to strike another time.

Doesn't matter. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Pull. Pride.

And for the first time since I met the Cullens, I invaded Edward's space. He takes a step away from me, startled. I raise my eyebrows tauntingly. He stands up straighter, chest puffed out, full of arrogance and conceit but he can't fathom life flowing between my pack and I through the simple air around us.

The air travels around us, from outside to inside, sharing the space and the Earth.

"Yea," I say, eyes fierce, tone cruel and aggressive like I've never been before. "As I wish."

The Bell rings; the people around me start to pack their things in their bags; Mike and Jessica are laughing loudly at some joke Tyler made; Mr. Banner is yelling out the homework as people scurry through the door, eager to leave; everything is completely normal and mundane. Except everything had changed, and I know I can never go back to before. I can never go back to before Jacob, before my pack, before the one moment of fear in Edward Cullen's eyes when he realized I may not be that easy to possess after all.

Sooooooo? What do you guys think? I'm SO excited to hear your thoughts (whether good or bad) because I absolutely adore this. THIS is what I've been sort of working towards with Bella. I truly hope it doesn't seem sudden to you all. Anywho, liked it? Hated it? Let me know what you think and Review! :)