Disclaimer – I own nothing.

A.N. – As always, thank you so much for the kind and encouraging words! On that note, I know this update is SUPER EARLY since my next update isn't due until next month, BUT since today is Valentine's Day, thought I'd give you all a Valentine's Day present to show my appreciation: a bit of fluff thrown in the mix, LoverGurrl411 style! Hope you all enjoy it!

Important Note: Some of you have mentioned that you're not quite sure what Edward's angle is, and if I mentioned it and you missed it: You didn't miss it, I just haven't made it known yet. The reason for that is because everything is from Bella's point of view, and I don't want to throw something out there that there's no possible way she would know at this current moment where the story is.

To mrslisablack, PrincesitaVulturi, Renee, , alba1020, 4Gracie04, Kuuleialoha1, PastOneonta, sbcorn, kouga's older woman, fanfictionfan4444, Holidai, Mysteriousreader1990, corkykellems, Guest (1), teamjacob0729, Madmaxi, Wolf Born Woman, megan39, booklovur217: Thanks you guys so much! I probably sound like a broken record, but trust me when I say that I am very sincere when I say thank you! Your words make me smile during the day, and keep me writing during the night. It's a wonderful feeling to know others are enjoying a story that is dear to my heart.

On that note, as always, a special shout out to all you silent readers who have favorited, and/or followed! Through your silence I can still feel the love! Happy Valentine's Day!

/I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night;

He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight;

I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero til the morning light;

He's gotta be sure, and he's gotta be soon, and he's gotta be larger than life/

-Holding Out For a Hero, Jessie Pitts

Chapter 6 – The Swans Who Love and the Wolves Who Cry

"Do you think I'm stupid? For provoking him?" I ask Jacob as we drive past my house. "Where are we going?"

Jacob hadn't said a word to me from the moment he picked me up except for a barely there smile, and swift kiss...if one could count a kiss as a word, which I don't. The silence was getting to me. Really getting to me.

"We're going to Sam's place," Jacob whispers. He's coiled so tight, too tight, that I need to soothe him somehow. I know something's wrong, but I don't know what.

"Are you angry at me?" I ask, afraid to touch him and be rejected. I know he won't reject me, but knowing doesn't change the way my heart speeds up and my throat closes at the thought.

There's too much silence, and I want to scream and kick and furiously fight with the dashboard to break the silence like I feel it's breaking me slowly.

"I'm not angry at you," Jacob continues to whisper, like if he spoke louder the fragile world would shatter around us. "But I am so fucking angry, honey, that I could rip that fucker's head off—and goddamn the treaty!"

I can tell that he's barely holding it together, the fire must be burning too bright inside of him right now. I touch his shoulder, and the muscles ripple beneath my touch.

"What treaty?" I continue to rub his arms, and sending out as much waves of calm as I can. I'm not sure if I'm doing it right, but I continue to try anyway. We. We're in this together.

"It's the reason why I haven't—" Jacob cuts himself off, and sighs. "There's a lot of us now, but before, back in my grandfather's time there were only three of us. Three of us against four of them—sounds pretty even, but in supernatural terms one extra is the same as having ten extra."

"So they struck a…treaty?" I deduce. It's the only reason I could see the word "treaty" having any part of this conversation.

"Yea," Jacob nods and grips the steering wheel harder than before. "They don't come on our land, and we don't shift on their land."

"You don't approve of the treaty," I call him out on the feelings pouring out from him.

The road is long before us, and yet he drives the way he kisses—effortlessly, and with complete focus simultaneously. His eyes never leave the road, and the road is a part of him. I feel the curves inside next to the pull and fire. I feel the Earth, but I know it's not me. Not really. It's Jacob who feels the Earth like the blood in his veins, a constant pulse.

"Those fuckers think they can do whatever they want because of the treaty!" Jacob hisses. His eyes are amber, and they glow like love on Valentine's Day – effervescently. "They think they can just corner my girl? Like I won't do anything? Like I'll just take it lying down?"

He's shaking inside. I feel the shake in my own limbs, and I want to ground him to me. But I don't know how, so I continue to rub his arm lightly.

"What's going to happen? What are you going to do?" I ask, but I'm so scared to know the answer. I know he's a wolf, Alpha, which means he can take anything Edward Cullen throws at him, but his ancestors made a treaty for a reason. They were scared, too.

"I—I don't know what I can do," he sighs, and it's like the fight leaves him as suddenly as a star stops burning. "I'm not just a member of the pack, I'm the head. Any decision I make stretches beyond me…If I choose to break the treaty, I'd be bringing war onto my people. I—I don't—I can't be the cause of a war because I care too much about you…and I'm so damn sorry."

His words are like a train running at me at full speed, and I'm too helpless to stop the impact. Pull. I don't just know in this moment; I understand.

He's ashamed because if he were any other guy, he would be incinerating Edward Cullen. But he's not any guy. Alpha. He can't react. When he acts, it's with impunity, and for a reason that he can state as defense to anyone in his tribe if they asked.

I feel his shame, and anger, and I want to scrub our skin till we bleed those feelings out of our system. Out of our pack, because they don't belong. Not to Jacob. Not ever.

Jacob's the future chief of the Tribe. He feels the pain of the past like you wouldn't believe, Paul's words rush at me.

"You…" I'm searching for words that I can't grasp, but I try anyway. I try for him. Because I care too much, too. "You don't ever have to apologize to me for being Alpha first. I—I get it, okay? I get that I can't come first for you."

"It shouldn't be that way, Bella," Jacob pleads with me for understanding. He pleads for me to fight this. The imprint. But we're past that, and I won't look back. I can't. The pull and ache and fire reach for each other too often, and the thought he might not want me…I can't breathe.

Jacob curses, and parks in front of a quant house with lots of plants and flower beds everywhere. He apologizes, and touches my face and shoulder, but the air won't come.

Maybe he doesn't want me. But I know he cares. Doesn't matter what I know. The insecurity runs too deep, and I never knew it was there. He doesn't want me.

Jacob kisses me everywhere his lips can find.

"Fuck," He whispers, and his hands dig into my flesh, burning into me. Imprint. "I'm sorry, Bells. God damn it, I'm sorry for everything. I take it back, I swear."

He's trying everything he can think of probably, but it doesn't matter because his kisses are like the greatest medicine created by mankind, and they soothe me in a way that his words never could, and I doubt ever will be able to. His kisses talk and they tell me that he cares, not because he has to but because he wants to.

Fuck the imprint. I smile, remembering the words, and then blush realizing that I caught another panic attack in front of him.

I guess that he realizes that I'm not freaking out anymore, because we just breathe for a moment—our foreheads against each other, our hearts somewhere in between.

"I want to be someone that you can be proud of," Jacob confesses, knowing that I need words and explanations. He knows, because he can feel the doubt inside me growing, despite the reassurance of the pull. "I want to fight the world, and lay it at your feet, but I'm not that guy. I can't be that guy, and it kinda hurts that I can't be. The wolf, he can't stand knowing he's been anywhere near you, touching you. The wolf would have lit that fucker up the second I got to your school, but I can't be ruled by the wolf. I have to better than my instincts…"

His words rain on me, washing away the fears and uncertainties.

"I—I'm already proud of you," I grip him as tight as I can. I want him to feel me inside of him, and outside. "I needed to fight that battle on my own. There's something about him that makes me hazy. It's like I'm drowning inside of myself, but he's there, and he's all there is. He does something that makes me forget how much I don't like him." I feel Jacob tense, but I need to get this out. I need him to understand, and so I plow on, hoping that he understands the way I want him to.

"It's almost like a dazzle, like he dazzles me. But I fought, I fought him without any supernatural powers. I'm strong, you know? And I guess I needed to know that. I needed to know that I'm strong on my own. I've never felt strong before. Not in my whole life, no matter how much I mothered my own mother, or claimed independence as my nature—I've never been strong. And I am. I am now, and that's you, Jacob. You gave me the chance to be strong…So, just don't, okay?"

And he doesn't. He smiles, like he's seeing me for the first time, and maybe he is. Maybe we're both learning new things about ourselves, and discovering we're not who we've always thought we'd be. And it's okay. It's really okay, because we're better than we thought we'd be.

"This is Sam's place?" I ask shyly, realizing I'd practically monopolized the conversation, and have been sitting in front of someone's house for an entire confession. Jacob nods, smile still tugging at his lips. "Wolves don't have any, you know, special hearing, do they?" I ask, but the mischief in his eyes are all the answer I need.

I groan, mortified. But his bark of laughter allow me to feel cocooned in him, and I don't feel so embarrassed that Sam most likely heard my confession. Pack. Family.

With laughter still on his lips, Jacob drags me out of the truck, past the flowers, into a home filled with Love. I can feel the love, steady, warm, the forever-kind where the pack lay inside of me, next to pull, and I am home, too.

Meeting Emily was a moment I don't think I'll ever forget. She shined brightly as she ushered us in, the scars on her face dull compared to her life. I instantly had looked at Jacob, inquiring with my eyes why he hadn't warned me…but I already knew.

He had wanted to see my natural reaction. He had wanted to see my answer to that possibility, without any filter.

I didn't need any explanation; I felt the shame rolling off of Sam, and knew that somehow, whatever the circumstances, he had done that. He had done that to his imprint.

I wanted to slap Jacob, for the first time. For the first time, I had wanted to slap him so bad, because I care so much and he didn't see it. I wouldn't walk away, no matter what he threw at me.

And so, without prompt, I had embraced Emily as my sister shyly, unsure if I was embracing her properly. She had hugged me back enthusiastically, and when we pulled apart, Jacob and Sam just stood there. Watching us. We. We were all together, family. And it felt so darn right that I could let out a whoop and a smile worthy of Apollo, the sun god.

But before the moment could stretch, and our happiness could take root forever, a wolf howled into the air, and the hairs on my neck stood up. Jacob reached for me, kissed me swiftly, and whispered that they would be back.

Without looking, I was sure that Sam was doing the same with Emily. But I didn't have time to look over, or even say a word to Jacob, because he was out the door, Sam following behind him.

I had just stood there for a moment, confused, lost, the feeling of safe and family gone. A chill had come and swept me up in its emptiness, and I had no clue what to do.

That's how I find myself sitting at Emily's kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea.

"Where did they go?" I ask her, unsure if she would laugh or mock me for not knowing. It's like I just opened my eyes, and realized that I had been so consumed by Jacob that I never bothered to ask questions. At least, none that mattered. None that told me where he goes when he's not with me.

"There's a…vampire…in the area. They went to, well, you know," she replies uncertainly. I nod, recognizing her awkwardness was probably a result of not knowing how much I knew, and not wanting to freak me out. Too late.

Jacob was out there, fighting those things! I want to run outside and yell for him to come back. I want to burn incense like I see on T.V. and hope that that and garlic will keep those things away. I want to kick and scream, claw and fight against this reality rushing towards me, but I feel Emily like pack, and I know that's not what she needs. She needs to know that I'm here with her.

I know she was lonely, before me. I know she's hoping she won't have to be so lonely anymore. I want to reassure her. A change in subject is definitely in order.

"So Sam did that to you," I point at her face. Clearly I need to work on my change in subjects. Oh god, I want to crawl inside of deep dark hole inside of the center of the Earth. Maybe I can backtrack. "I'm sure they'll be back soon."

Awkward isn't even close to describing the silence, and my face can light up half of the world it's so red. But then she smiles, and her smile reminds me of Sam—sweet and unassuming, non-judgmental—a compliment to his trustworthiness.

"Yea," she starts. Her smile is in place as her fingers play with the edge of the teacup. "It was a bad time. He didn't mean to, but he didn't have control of the wolf back then…things like this can happen..when the wolf is pushed too far."

"But you forgave him," I smile lightly at her. We, imprints, understand that there was never another option. Not forgiving him would have been like trying to tear off her arm—if she felt anywhere near what I feel for Jacob, she'd rather he really did rip her arm off then ask her not to forgive him.

But there's a grip inside of both of us that makes us pause. There's a coldness and fear that pulses deep inside—I can see the reflection of these emotions in her eyes. Someone's hurt. No. Yes. Please, just don't let it be Jacob. But I know the way I pray to whatever Higher Power may be listening, Emily's doing the same for Sam. All I hope for is that my prayers are louder.

I never realized how horrible of a human being I could be till this instance. We both sigh, and look away. We each know what the other is thinking. We. Family. Pack. Together, even in our pain.

"It was my fault, really," Emily looks away in shame. Her focus on that allows us to not focus on the fear and pull inside of us. Her shame causes something cold to slither down my spine. Her words raise something I'm not sure I can understand, let alone grasp, inside of me. "I knew he was volatile. I knew, but I pushed him anyway. Told him I didn't want him. I felt him, but I told him I didn't want him or anything to do with him. Jacob was almost to us, and I could hear him yell out for me to stop, but the words were already out of my lips. Once you say something, you can't take it back."

"Words are funny like that," I joke. It falls flat, but she's too lost in the memory to notice or care. Perhaps she hadn't had anyone to tell the story to before. Maybe this truth had been burning inside of her, waiting for someone to acknowledge it. "What happened?"

"Same phased," Emily whispers. Truth, and pull anchor me to the ground, and I can feel Jacob on his way back to me. I don't know when this happened, but I can feel him in the Earth, paws hitting the ground. "He phased on top of me, and I screamed murder, I screamed so loud. Paul told me later that Jacob had practically ripped Sam off of me, and I remember that all I could think of was if Sam was okay. I was hurt, bandages covering half of my body, but I just wanted to know if Sam was okay."

Emily shook her head at herself, but I understood.

"You cared," I shrug. "That's what caring is all about, right?"

"Do you care about Jacob?" She asks, but I know she's not really asking that at all. The answer is obvious. She's asking me to share like she shared. We.

I remember Jacob had joked the other day that there were no secrets in the pack, and now I can see why. There's a compulsion to share each other's souls. It's an imperative to bare yourself at the other's mercy…I can barely wrap my head around it. So many imperatives.

"This is all so new, and different," I try. That's all I can do, really. "One minute it feels like I'm flying, and the next it feels like I'm running without sneakers. I—I guess dealing with Jacob is different than dealing with Sam, right?"

I'm looking at a fellow imprint, asking for guidance. I need it, I'm so lost. But when he kisses me, I'm as found as I could ever be. Too many contradictions. Pull. Fire.

"Jacob's Alpha," Emily asserts. "He's got a whole host of problems of a different scale than Sam. But he's a good man. A good leader. So good, sometimes we all forget he's younger than half the pack." At my inquiring look she clarifies. "Sam, Paul, and Jared are all older than Jacob. Only a year or two, but still."

"I forget that I'm older than him by a year and a half!" I laugh, and it feels good to laugh. It feels good to know that Jacob is almost home to me. But the laughter can't dispel the truth as it spills forth like water from a fountain. "But the weight of the role weighs on him, and I'm not quite sure how to help him. I—I want to—to be able to carry it all, but half the time I don't even know what's wrong, and he doesn't tell me, either. It's like I'm flying blind."

"I wouldn't ever be able to deal with that," Emily admits, sympathy clear in her eyes. "Not knowing what's going on, not being put first. I don't think I could ever handle that."

"But I'm proud that he can put the tribe before me," I explain. Pride laces my being, and I let it feed out to him, wherever he is. "Because…well, that's the mark of greatness, isn't it? Being able to ignore instincts, in favor of reason. I just—I—I don't want him to think he has to make excuses for being who he is. Because he doesn't. Not ever."

"Guess that's why you're the Alpha's mate," Emily sipped her tea. But we had said what needed to be said. Somewhere deep inside of myself, the pull needed to be recognized, not just as another imprint, but as the Alpha's mate. The recognition glows inside of me, and I feel like I'm high.

Family. Pack. Home. We smile. Imprint to imprint. Newfound friend to newfound friend. Imprint to Alpha's Mate.

But the moment passes as Jacob comes barreling through the door, a claw mark on his chest seeping blood, ash covering his frame, an unknown pack member leaning on his shoulder.

"He's okay," Jacob tells us, but I'm not sure I believe him. "Just got too close too soon."

"We should take him to the hospital," I hear myself say as Jacob sets the boy down and I see the mangled mess that is his arm.

At least it's not Jacob. At least it's not Jacob. No, but it was someone. Pack.

"We heal fast," Paul comes into the room and kneels down next to the boy. He lays a hand to his forehead, and speaks to him. "You hear me, Seth? This is gonna hurt like a bitch, but once it's done, it's done. Okay?"

Seth barely nods, in and out of consciousness. Paul looks at Jacob, and Jacob barely nods, before Paul has reset the bones in Seth's arm. Seth's cries echo off the walls, and before I know what I'm doing I reach for him, and cradle his head.

"You're okay, your okay," I whisper to him, trying to comfort him. I feel his pain so acutely, only to realize it's Jacob feeling his pain, and me through Jacob.

"One more buddy," Jacob lays his palm on Seth's forehead. The touch of his alpha soothes something that I couldn't, but I feel the difference.

Jacob nods once more, and once again, Seth's cries bounce off the ceiling. I want to cry so much, but I can't. Not yet, when Seth's in so much pain. Not when Jacob needs me to be strong.

This could have been Jacob. But it's not. Pull. Ache. Fire.

"Let's get him into bed, till he heals," Emily speaks, and Paul and Sam grab him out of my arms. My arms feel empty, but there's a pressure building in my chest…it knows something I haven't recognized consciously, yet.

"How fast will he heal?" I ask anyone who will answer.

"He should be as good as new in a couple hours. By tomorrow for sure," Jacob looks deep into me. I feel him, but I don't know what he's searching for inside of me.

"Wow," my eyebrows must be up to my hairline. That's fast. "So you guys are practically invincible," I joke.

"Practically," he doesn't smile, and I know there's something I'm missing.

"We can stand a bullet better than we could take vampire venom," Paul strolls into the room, and looks at all the blood on the floor. "Emily's gonna kill us," he mutters.

"What happens if you get v-vampire venom?" No no no, my brain doesn't want to know, but it already does. I already know.

"If it falls on us, it burns like a bitch," Paul cringes at a memory. Pull, tug. "And scars, too."

"And if they…b-bite you?" my question brings a silence so heavy, it feels like I went back in time to the second Jacob and Seth barged through the open door.

No no no. But I already know. Pull. Ache.

"We die," Jacob's deep voice doesn't hesitate. It feels the space in the room like a flood. He consumes me; images of all the horrible deaths that could happen to him assault me.

I have to remember to be strong. I am strong. Alpha's mate.

But all I can think to say is, "I should probably get home." Jacob nods, wipes his chest with a damp rag that was on the table, lifts a t-shirt that probably belongs to Sam over his frame, and we walk out, without a good-bye to anyone. We walk to the truck, and in our silence lays the truth: when I thought nothing he could show me could get me to walk away, I had never considered him leaving me first.

When we park in front of my house, Charlie's cruiser is already there, and he's sitting on the front porch, a stern look upon his face. I look at Jacob, but there's a seriousness in the lines on his face, that tell me now isn't the time.

We get out the truck, and walk towards Charlie, but he doesn't say a word. He simply stands, opens the front door, and ushers us in with one sweep of his hand.

"Dad?" I know the look on my face is question enough.

"Did anything interesting today, Bells?" he asks, and just like that I remember I had gotten caught making out. Oh no.

I go to explain, but he holds his hand out for me to stop.

"Me and Jacob need to have a bit of a man to man, so why don't you go start on your homework in the kitchen," he isn't asking. I had never felt so much like a teenager as I do in this moment.

Jacob nods his head at me to listen to Charlie, and with no other feasible option I head into the kitchen. I take out my books on the kitchen table, look at Jane Austen, and realize that I had missed her today. So much had happened, and it had happened without her as my witness.

But here is my first love, my first friend, and I can practically hear her telling me to take a peak. Eavesdropping isn't a crime, only if I get caught.

Hearing voices is a sign of insanity, I remind myself. But I am strong. And my strength comes from something as unbelievable as an Imprint, and an Alpha, and I realize: that's when I'm at my best though, when I'm insane.

So I quietly stand up, and I find myself hiding behind the staircase, listening in on Jacob and Charlie's man-to-man.

"My whole house smells like her, and the thing about her is that—to me—she smells like Christmas morning." Jacob admits to Charlie. "I know that you have your…suspicions…about me, but that's just who I am Charlie. I live till it hurts, and I kinda don't know any other way. And I know that's probably the worst thing I could tell you, but you know me Charlie. You've seen me grow up, and have been there when I've felt I couldn't go to my own dad. You know me, and I'd rather tell you the worst thing, then lie to you...so I guess what I'm asking of you is to believe me."

"Believe what exactly?" Charlie asks, no bullshit. No hesitancy.

"Believe that I care about your daughter," Jacob starts. "Believe that because I care, that I wouldn't ever willingly bring her into any crap that I've got going on—not unless she dragged herself in."

"That's all good and dandy Jacob," Charlie sighs. "But what if she wants to get dragged in? What then? Women…women aren't like us. They're illogical at the best of times, and there isn't anythin' worse for a woman than lovin' a man. Any grown man'll tell you, when a woman's in love, they'd walk into the belly of a damned beast before they'd let their man get eaten alive."

Jacob goes to lie, to calm some of Charlie's fears, but Charlie sees the lie on his lips before it can fall.

"Don't take me for a fool because I'm gettin' up there in age," Charlie pins him down with a hard stare. "She may not have loved you when you both put on a show for the town in her truck, or loved you later today, but if this thing—whatever it is—that you two have goin' on keeps going…she'll love you. She'll love you, and if Bella's anything like her old man she won't know how to stop."

They sat in silence for a moment, content to breathe and take the entire conversation in. I guess men can do that, not care about the silence.

"She really did a number on you, didn't she? Renee," Jacob clarifies, but his question is like a rock in Charlie's stomach. I can see the pain of the past on the laugh lines on his face. They tell a story, the kind that lasts for centuries.

"When I met Renee she wanted to fly to the moon, and walk across the galaxy on the wings of her dreams. That's the kind of woman she was, flighty. Here one second, gone the next onto the next adventure," Charlie speaks softly. "She was the woman that I loved, even as she left me, which is all I could ever really ask for, ain't it?"

I had never heard him speak of Renee before, not like this, and it touched something deep within me to know that he chose to share this with Jacob. Perhaps things this deep to the heart can only be discussed with other men. Perhaps he just needed Jacob to understand the way Swans love. Eternally, wholly, unconditionally, and without reason.But Jacob isn't a man. Alpha. Man enough, I guess.

"It takes a special kind of man to love a woman, knowing she's gonna leave one day," Jacob leaned on his forearms, and stared into Charlie's eyes. They can see something reflected in the other that I can't, and I'm lost—knowing, yet not understanding, and wishing that I could. "And it takes a special kind of woman to love a man knowing that he might cause her pain one day by dying. It takes a special kind of woman, and the father of that woman should feel so much damn pride to know that he raised a woman who could love beyond barriers. To know that his daughter could see past it all: the blood and the mysteries, the problems lurking in every corner and still love without question."

There's a heavy silence, and in this silence are answers that I can't hear. But Jacob can. Charlie can. They. The tribe of men, separate from the pack, that care and worry for me. They're their own tribe, fierce without any supernatural or metaphysical pull forcing them to be for my sake. Fuck the imprint. Yea. Family.

"You plannin' on dying any time soon?" Charlie asks him, but it's a voice I had never heard him use before—hard, yet smooth and silky. My heart wants to explode at the thought of Jacob dying. Never. But never is a long time, and he's only human. We're only human.

"Don't go cop on me, Chief," Jacob smiles lightly. "You and I both know that I don't cause trouble."

"Doesn't mean you're not wrapped up in something that causes you trouble," Charlie raises an eyebrow. Jacob nods his head in acknowledgement.

"Don't worry about me, Charlie," Jacob claps Charlie on the shoulder and stands up. "I can take of myself."

"I know you can," Charlie stands up, and I had never realized how strong he was until this moment. "But just because you can doesn't mean you don't have people who would go to bat for you. If only you'd talk to us."

And like a light bulb switched in my head, I understand that there's a lot being said without words. It's the piece that I'm missing, and I try to accept it. I do. But the itch to know gives me a slight twitch in my right eye.

"Maybe before," Jacob admits, and it breaks my heart a bit to see it. "when I was—but I'm not good anymore. Not the way I was. And I've made my peace with that."

More silence, and it bugs me that men can't just lay out all their feelings on the floor. I don't want to guess, I want to know. But his words are enough, and Charlie claps Jacob's shoulder and they walk towards me. They walk…towards me. Oh no.

I panic and scramble to move towards the side door, and throw it open.

"Bells?" Charlie and Jacob say simultaneously. Home and Fire mix in one word, but I can't focus on that. I plant a wide smile on my face, and turn around, as if I was just coming in.

"I was just about to track you guys down," I lie badly. Charlie's eyes are suspicious, and I know Jacob could hear my heartbeat—fast and loud in my chest. I'm pretty sure neither believe my story at all.

"Well, looks like we found you instead," Charlie joked, allowing the lie to become the truth. Jacob jokes along with him, and I get it.

Like the first time you realize that 'one plus one is two' only because words are arbitrary; we give words meaning, so 'one plus one' could have easily been 'car plus car', and it would still equal the same amount. Either 'two' or 'truck.' The words don't matter, it's the intent. The meaning behind the empty words.

Charlie would rather let the lie live inside us, then call me out and have to rehash the sentiment. Jacob would rather go along with Charlie, to save his raw emotions, then force the issue and cause a great man more pain.

It's not about the words.

It never was.

It's about the intent.

The meaning.

Alpha.

Mate.

Together.

Pain. Loss. Love. Eternity.

Family.

Pull.

Fire.

Knowing a man's heart isn't about what he says, but about what he feels, and I understand why there's so much silence between Charlie and Jacob. The intent is all that matters, and I'm almost envious that they can value the meaning more than the words.

Almost. Because as Charlie turns around to head to the living room with a beer in hand, and Jacob wraps an arm around my waist, leans down, slowly brushes his lips lightly against the pulse in my neck and whispers, "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to try give you up," I feel God.

I feel God, and I've never been a religious woman. I've never even been sure there is a God, but I feel like no one in the world, I'm sure.I know that intent could never be enough without words for me.

And his words soothe me, and raise me up against the hills in both of our hearts…

And I am Woman. Loved. Strong, because I wrap my arms around his massive frame, and cradle his head like he is my child.

I whisper back, "Swans don't give up," and I mean it.

I will the intent into the words with all the free will in my body, as I hold him, letting him be weak for a moment; and I know that even the prospect of death come too soon can't make me walk away…because I'm stronger than that.

We are stronger than that. Together. The Alpha and his Mate.

Sooooooo? What do you guys think? I know, A LOT happened in this chapter, but I sincerely hope you all enjoyed it! But, either way: loved it? Hated it? Let me know and Review!