Hey all.

So finally, after more than a year from when I first published this one shot, I've added to the story.

I had so many pleas to turn the one shot into a multi chapter story. And finally, I have. This is an 8 chapter story, that I've already written and is almost all beta'ed. I'm planning on posting a chapter or 2 every week.

I've only slightly altered the last bit of the 1st chapter. You might want to go back and re-read it before starting this one.

Hope you enjoy.

MarinaNamaste.

Chapter 2

I didn't understand. The same as her mother's? It couldn't be.

She was a vamp. She was dead and cold, and unable to have children. I also knew for a fact that Bella Swan didn't have a kid at the age of seven. Maybe she's somehow related to Charlie? Still doesn't explain the biting and all round blood drinking. Not that I minded. My imprint could do whatever she liked of me, it was all part of the package. And anyway, it felt amazing.

"Your mother's eyes?" I asked. My body was still pressed against hers, her soft perfect breasts were pressed under my chest as I hovered, looking down at her angelic face. My eyes coursed over her features. Features that, the more I looked, the more I was reminded of two people—and I use the term people loosely— I used to know.

Her eyes searched between mine, the dark, deep brown orbs flicked back and forth as she seemed to formulate the best answer.

There've been times in the brief period I've known her that she seemed to be analyzing everything we did. Studying everything I'd said. It was like it was the first time she'd ever been let out in to the real world and she was taking mental notes or something. I wonder if maybe she was. Everything about this woman was so fascinating to me; she's so captivating. I am now dedicated, for the rest of my life, to unravelling the mysteries of one Miss Renesmee Carlie Cullen. My soul mate. My imprint.

I consider myself one lucky fucker.

"Yes," she said quietly, her eyes now still and steady into mine. "My father always says that her eyes are what he misses the most."

Then she shifted slightly under me, her leg wrapping around to hold mine, her hands coming to embrace my shoulders. It was subtle, but I could feel her nervousness. She was holding me close, in what I figured was preparation for me to pull away from her in response to whatever she was about to say. It wasn't needed. The imprint wouldn't let me run from her. Not that I wanted to anyway… well, at least ninety-nine percent of me didn't. I am absolutely loath to admit it, but a tiny portion of me still hated that name and all the hateful emotions it conjures up in me. But it wasn't going to be an issue. The imprint is irrefutable.

She sucked in a deep breath, before continuing. "Yeah," she said softly, her lips barely moving as she spoke, "my eyes are the same color as my mother's… when she was still human."

She said nothing else. She was waiting for my reply.

But I didn't answer. I needed to collect my thoughts for a minute. It was just a short sentence. A dozen words strung together, but it said so much. My mind flicked through the possibilities of whose eyes she has. The obvious similarities to another set of eyes I once knew—Aka Bella's— was a complete, totally couldn't happen, impossible notion. She'd said her mother was once human, which implies that she no longer is. Which then implies that Renesmee is also not human. I allowed myself to focus on that for a moment.

This woman in my arms is not human— and she seems to know that I'm not really either.

She'd bit me— and I'd healed.

I know she saw it—and it hadn't freaked her out.

And she'd bit me— and it didn't freak me or the wolf out.

It had just felt amazing. Fucking amazing.

We both obviously had secrets we wanted to share but we both seemed too frightened to spill. She needed me to have the courage for us both. I could feel it in the depths of my imprinted soul.

I didn't answer her bombshell. Instead my lips lowered on to hers, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss upon her before pulling back from her skin, my knees kneeling on the cool hardwood floor between her legs.

I saw the distress in her eyes as she assumed and started to freak out that I was going to run. I wasn't. I just wanted us both to be more comfortable.

"Come lie up here," I said, standing and pulling back the bed covers before sliding in and opening my arms in a gesture for her to join me.

I hardly knew this girl, but as she slid up to the head of the bed and under the covers, naked and into my waiting arms, I understood that feeling of belonging and wholeness that had started to seep into my bones was the feeling I had been waiting for. I'd been waiting for her all my life.

I wanted to know her better.

"I think we both have a lot we have to share and a lot of questions," I said, as my arm wrapped around her. The tips of my fingers played with the fine silvering bite mark I'd left at the base of her throat. Her skin erupted in goosebumps at my touch; a short, feminine, throaty, dick twitching moan echoed over the room.

She leaned her body on mine and my restless hand finally came to lie just underneath the swell of her naked breast. I resisted the temptation to find a nipple to play with. She had beautiful nipples, I'd discovered.

I leaned down, pressing my lips into her hair and inhaling that intoxicating sent. It was now mixed with my sent and our sex. It was an overpowering and heady aroma. My fingers smoothed over the soft swell of the underside of her warm, heavy weight. I mentally cleared my head. Fighting the strong physical desire coursing through me, instead focusing on the person behind the perfect breasts.

"Why don't I start?" I said, clearing my throat and willing my dick to keep quiet for five.

The born leader in me took the reins. "You said your eyes are the same as your mom's were when she was human. Does that mean she's something else now? Is she a vamp?" I asked as gently as I could.

"Yes," she whispered. She was still unsure if her answers would scare me. I was now more than sure she knew about my people. Maybe not much knowledge, but just enough to make her weary of being a leech. But she wasn't a leech though, was she? She had a pulse. She smelled and tasted divine, she was warm and soft and her breasts were perfect… and she was my imprint.

My head was still reeling that it had finally happened.

"It's not the Spanish inquisition Renesmee, you can tell me anything. I promise you, I will always be okay with it." If only she knew just how okay I would be. I continued, gently prompting her, encouraging her to divulge more. "And you're a Cullen?" I said, more of a question that a statement.

"Yes."

"But you drank my blood. You bit me. Are you not 'vegetarian' like them?"

"You know my family?" she asked, inadvertently diverting the conversation as she lifted her head off my chest and looked at me over her shoulder smiling. She seemed excited by the prospect of me knowing her family.

She had a beautiful smile. It lit her up from within. She was a beautiful woman; shapely full lips, contoured cheeks and full, bold lashes. But when she smiled, it transformed her face and she became a goddess.

Our eyes met in the light of the dim bedside lamp. That attraction zapped between us, but at the mention of her family I'm sure she saw the loathing creep into my eyes. I saw the flicker in hers, it flickered as she realized that me knowing her family might not be such a good thing.

She was partially correct.

That one percent of me still didn't think it was a good thing.

I wanted that one percent of my mind to go to hell. But the fucking Alpha was strong and so god damn willful.

"They're the only vampires that I've met and haven't killed," I said stoned faced and unable to hide the threatening menace in my tone. I could hear her heart beat jump, her body tensing and on alert. Her flight or fight mechanism had kicked in, and she was ready to fight or flight from me.

At that moment I hated, more than anything, that tiny part of me that still felt bitterness towards the golden eyed leeches— her family. I hated that I had had allowed that bitterness any kind of voice.

The imprinted part of me— the ninety-nine percent— couldn't have care less about her family name or the need to treated the enemy. But the Alpha who'd returned after a year and a half of absence while lost in grief, that little part of me had returned stronger and more focused… and more ruthless. That one percent was fighting to assert itself.

"Do you know about a treaty they once had?" I asked her, desperately trying to force the hostility from my traitorous voice.

She nodded, her large doe eyes looked up through her long fanning lashes. Her body was frozen in fear.

She looked so vulnerable; naked and exposed as she lay there in my arms. Her heart was fluttering like a little bird and her breath was coming in suppressed hiccuping pants. She was terrified. The realization awakened the wolf. A shudder of protectiveness surged though me. This would not do. Not at all.

It was true, the Cullen's were the only leeches I'd met and not killed. It didn't mean I wanted to hurt Renesmee in anyway though. Quite the opposite, the wolf would die to protect her. Her life was all that he now lived for. I couldn't bear the thought of her being scared of us, of me. In any form.

The imprinted wolf battled internally with the jilted man. If the boy from years ago was still angry, he could take it up with Bella, this wasn't Renesmee's burden to carry or endure.

My saving grace was that, thankfully, through the silent struggle I was having within, she still stayed in my arms. Even though her body was reacting in fear, the larger part of her, the part that could feel my devotion and protectiveness; that part of her trusted in me instinctively. Her innocent confidence in me was the tipping point for the battle. Fighting through her own fears, she nestled her cheek against my chest and looked up at me.

Her lips kissed my skin, and her body pressed apprehensively against mine. I trust you; in whatever this feeling I'm experiencing is, was whispered inside my mind, and the wolf howled in his righteousness.

Her trust in what must have been a baffling and yet innate bond between us had the wolf assuaged and the Alpha humbly admitting defeat and forgiveness.

Even without really knowing what the hell was going on between us, she trusted in us… in me. Somehow, she ignored her fear and set aside my fraudulent threat, instead seeing the love and devotion that was behind the words. I could see it in her eyes, she could see the battle raging within me. I could feel her acceptance, despite the Alpha's stupid, proud threats. She understood the wolf. She trusted the wolf.

If I hadn't been devoted to her already, I would have fallen in love with the girl then and there.

She was brave. And gracious. And beautiful.

My mate.

The connection Renesmee and I held between our focused eyes melted any last vestiges of hostility that I had somehow been holding on to. The slight lingering scent of fear still hazing around her had me softening my eyes further, smiling in reassurance that this place, this den, this sanctuary the wolf had made for us— for my imprint— truly was safe.

Sanctuary; I knew it was really just Seth's bed, and that the reality of her family's past with my pack could have far reaching consequences. However to the wolf—which was now the completely dominating part of me— this woman was his mate, and he needed her to know that she was safe. That there was no safer place than with him—me.

I took her small nod as conformation. My imprint felt safe in my arms. The wolf purred his contentment at the awareness of it.

I moved on, hoping to get though the duty aspect of my role as Alpha, leader of the La Push wolf pack as soon as possible and with nil casualties; namely Ness or me and my heart. I would never let her see the savagery of what the Alpha wolf was capable of. No, I'd never her even come close to letting her see. but I did need to know how much she knew about the terms of the agreement between our ancestors.

I needed to know if she understood the details of the truce. "Do you know that the main part of that treaty is that they can't feed from humans… ever," I said, pulling her hand from my cheek. With her warm fingers in mine, I pressed her hand down my throat, over to where lay a faint,healed scar from her bite from only minutes earlier.

She'd bitten me, and she'd drunk my blood. The wolf found that a little gross. Forgivable but still gross. But… the hot blooded man still had the sensation of just how good it had felt as we'd exploded together fresh in his mind. My dick was remembering it pretty clearly too.

I was suddenly lost in my own thoughts, remembering just how good being wrapped up inside her had felt— better than anything I'd ever felt in my whole fucking life— times a thousand. My dick was stirring again at the memory when she lifted her had off where it had been resting on my shoulder. She pressed up, her naked breasts hanging heavy and swinging below her. Her two hard nipples were jutting out, dark pink, like two tiny strawberries waiting to be sucked and nibbled at, they hardened under my gaze, puckering as she started to sit up. My eyes flicked from her tits to her eyes. Tits. Eyes. Tits, and then eyes.

The mating instinct was so fucking strong. It swept me up and I lost all train of thought.

She'd been watching me as I'd been watching—ogling—her. I forced myself to keep my eyes at her face. She smiled, it was a soft lifting of her lips, a knowing smirk. I'd been caught perving. Then I saw something in her eyes shift, and she moved her body, turning so that she was sitting on the bed. She folded her legs under her, unconcerned by her nakedness as my eyes unapologetically traveled over her flawless, creamy skin once again.

Our eyes meet as she watched me take her beauty in. A more pronounced satisfied smirk twitched on her lips as our eyes met once more and we both felt the desire rolling of one another. She was confident in her body, she should be— she was fucking stunning.

Her eyes bore into mine as her hand reached up, warm soft fingers gently traced over the place that should bare the mark of her bite and her midnight snack once more. But it didn't. There was no mark. It had healed.

But she had bitten. And she had drunk. I still didn't know if she understood the ramifications of her drinking human blood as a matter of routine. Hell, I didn't know the ramifications if she did. I didn't know what the wolf would do if his imprint was also the very thing he was made to kill.

Her eyes lowered to the smooth, healed skin on my shoulder and then back to my face. "Firstly," she started, her voice coy, "I doubt you're actually human." I could hear the grin forming on her pretty lips. "so that part of the treaty is safe."

Then she blinked, slowly and purposefully, opening as the playful lust in her eyes flickered suddenly to anxiety and the smile dropped from her face. The veil of confidence slipping to expose her real emotion of insecurity. Her lips parted and I could see the sudden desperation in them. She was desperate for me to hear her, to truly listen to what she was about to say next.

"And secondly" she hesitated, biting her lower lip in a way that reminded me of Bella.

It didn't upset me, to be reminded of the girl I'd lost the way it might have just a day ago. Seeing my imprint bite her lip like that was hot, instead it sent a renewed rush of blood to my groin. Then, like the screeching of breaks, my focus was back on my imprint, I was hit with an ache in my chest, and her soul begging me to help her tell me what it was that she seemed to desperate to say.

I leaned up on an elbow, reaching up to tuck a stray curl from her face and slipping it behind her ear. Her hair was so beautiful and soft. God I was easily distracted by her, I forced myself to focus. "Go on Renesmee, I'm listening."

She paused only momentarily, swallowing and taking a reassuring breath. "That was the first time I've ever bitten a human, Jacob... Ever." Her eyes were wide and glassy. Her heart thumped out like a hummingbird's wings. "Please believe me," she begged.

I did. Of course I did. I could feel her sincerity in my chest. It pulsed and vibrated with the bond that held us to one another.

That had been the first time I'd bitten a human –or whatever she is— too. My eyes left her face and traveled down the length of her throat, zeroing in on the crescent shape mark at the apex of her shoulder. The wolf's mark. My mark.

My dick pulsed again at the memory of it all.

I willed it to go down. She didn't need my body right now, she needed my confidence and trust. After her faith in me earlier, she deserved as much from me now.

Through the fog of lust and desire, I really had heard her. I'd been committing to memory and cataloging every detail of what she had been saying all night. The melodic sound of her voice from the moment our eyes first met was now the center of my world; I hadn't heard anything else but her. This whole evening I'd been soaking in every detail, every nuance of this magnificent angel in my arms.

"But you're not a leech," I said, more as a statement than a question. "You have a pulse." I reached up to her, the back of my hand gently caressed over her jaw and down her throat, nestling against her delicate collarbones. My finger traced over her mark and her eyes closed as she reveled in the pleasure it gave her. I sat up, facing her as my other hand traced over the dip of her waist and my fingers splayed out. I pressed my heated palm into her belly and leaned forwards, my nose brushed against her pulse point. I inhaled deeply.

"I love the way you smell. Why? Why doesn't it burn my nose like the rest of your family's scent does?"

My question was soft and gently inquiring. I was peeling back the onion of who she is, unraveling what makes up the essence of my imprint. It was like I was slowly unwrapping the best birthday present I ever had or ever would receive.

A thought of her wrapped up in nothing but a big red bow and asking to be opened popped into my brain and I quickly quashed that as she continued our serious conversation.

"I'm only half human," she said turning and lying back down, her glorious hair fanning out behind her. She tugged on my arm, pulling be back down until we were sharing the same pillow. We we're lying face to face, our breath mingling as our noses lay only inches apart. One of her stray ringlets was winding up and obscuring my view of her a little. The heat of her skin warmed mine.

Her leg slid up the outside of mine and my hand slid over her hip, and down her soft bare thigh until my fingers curved around the back of her knee and hitched her leg comfortable around my hip. I loved the feel for her skin under my fingers. Under anything of me, really.

She seemed to be getting ready to finally explain it all to me. Maybe our minds were in sync. I didn't know, but I did know that our bodies had most certainly aligned. I could feel it. Literally.

The powerful energy of what was burgeoning between us was zapping all along the spaces between our skins like little prickles. It wasn't sharp or painful though, this was soft and soothing, yet energizing all at the same time. It was the tickle of the shared imprint bond. It was flaming in a sweet pleasure in all the places that we touched. Her leg slid between mine, soft and silky, and smooth like satin: she was the embodiment of a flesh and blood woman.

And that's what I didn't understand. What is half human? Did her transformation not go all the way? Did they not use enough venom or something? She must have sensed my confusion, because she wiggled a little closer, tucking that stray ringlet behind her ear as her soft little foot slid up my leg and down again. Her touch was a balm to my soul.

"It's just easier to show you Jake. Do you know about the gifts some vampires have?"

I nodded. How could I forget the fortune telling that spoiled it all and the mind reading as we fought over her love? As I lay there though, in the quiet of the evening with the angel in my arms, I couldn't even remember why I had bothered to fight for Bella all those years ago. It was a shadow of the emotion and love I felt now. God, I'd been a fool, all that needless pain. Stupid boy had no clue was love was.

"I have a gift," she said looking up at me. She had an innocent and vulnerable look on her face as she asked, "may I?" Her hand then reached up and her soft, warm fingers cupped the side of my jaw.

I nodded. I trusted her explicitly.

Then out of nowhere, I had in my mind an image of me at the kegger as I fell to my knees when I first saw her. I looked like a man blinded, seeing the beautiful sun for the first time. The most pivotal moment in my entire life.

"I can show someone images and emotions simply from my touch," she said, before continuing, "and this… this is why I have a pulse Jacob," she said as my mind was filled with images and feelings.

I felt love and the warmth of a living breathing mother, before being launched in to the cold hands of Dr. Fang and then Edward. They were in a hospital type of room. Then I saw Bella—her mother, I assumed — lying like a skeletal figure on a bed, and the feeling of love and nurturing enveloped me. She showed me flashes of the woman's death, bursts of Edward biting her, over and over and over.

She showed me all of the Cullen vamps. All of them love her, and she showed me that she loves all of them too. An image of a newly turned Bella flashed in my mind. She was beautiful; gone was the clumsiness I'd once known. She was graceful, she was striking. Her eyes were blood red. The word Mother was placed into my head, confirming my suspicions.

I saw flashes of Renesmee's life. Only being semi-satisfied after hunting sitka deer with her uncles, being far more satisfied after drinking a bag of donated blood by her grandfather, being quite repulsed after being forced to try human food by her grandmother.

She showed me her speed, her strength, the exhilaration of running over an Alaskan glacier and her frustration at never being as fast at the rest of them.

Her longing to go to school and learn what is like to be normal human child. The growth chart indicating the incredible speed of her development. The driver's license that says she is eighteen years old. The Newspaper article detailing her mother's faked death, dating back only seven years.

Oh fuck. I jerked at the last image, sitting up abruptly but not breaking skin contact. She's only seven years old. I pulled my hand away from her leg so that we're touching less intimately.

"You're only seven?" I said, a maelstrom of emotion at this revelation. Oh god. Spirits help me. What have I done?

"Chronologically, yes," she rushed to answer. "But for all intense and purposes, I'm eighteen Jake. I've stopped growing. I will be this way for eternity."

.

"You're only seven and you're Bella's daughter?" he asked me, as if on repeat.

I nodded, desperately trying to read into his repetitive questions. I wasn't familiar enough with the nuances in conversation of a mainstream, modern community. I silent cursed my family for not equipping me with the knowledge I needed to act like a normal teenager in the twenty first century. "And Edward is my Biological father," I added in the light of full disclosure.

"You're only seven," he mumbled again. I could see the fight in his eyes. He was looking at me, seeing the woman I am, and then how he'd glaze over and think about my chronological age.

He was fighting between the logic, the primitive emotion and the attraction. I'd seen it in his eyes all evening, and in his hands and lips all night—Jacob was physically attracted to me. But there was so much more.

I could feel the relationship between us. It's was quite illogical. I had only known this man for just under two hours, and I already felt a connection to him that felt like a lifetime of trust and commitment. It was instinctual.

I felt safe in his arms. I felt loved by his gentle touch. I felt on fire from his scorching gaze. I loathed to have him think of me as child. He couldn't place human age values on me. I had to make him understand as much before he pulled completely away.

He moved to sit up even more, further distancing himself from me. Automatically my hand reached out and gripped his wrist, hard. "I'm not a child, I haven't been a child for a very long time. I've stopped growing now. Jacob, this is how I will look for an eternity. You don't have to be scared of my age. In all the ways that matter, I'm an adult Jacob. Please don't go!" my voice wavered with desperate emotion.

My behavior was so very irrational, I really didn't know this man. But the idea of him pulling away from me and fleeing caused a curious sensation in my chest. It was a burning ripping pain, like my proverbial heart had infiltrated my cardiac muscle and was ripping me apart. He couldn't leave me.

He froze at my touch, his gaze directing to where my hand was clenching his wrist tight. "Ow," he said wryly. I thought I could see a hint of humor in his eyes, but I was too terrified to focus on it.

"You're definitely stronger than you look," he murmured, more to himself than to me. I felt he was trying to convince himself of my maturity as much as I was.

Slowly, finger by finger, I loosened my grip on his arm.

"I am."

His eyes lifted up to mine, searching over my face. "I'm not going anywhere Nessie." As our eyes met, that unexplained, age old kindred spirit of unity washed over me once more. I liked that diminutive. Nessie.

Maybe it could be a private name that he reserved for the bedroom.

Like the one we were currently in.

Like a person transitioning between personalities, I swung from desperate and pleading, wanting him to accept me for what I was, to determined and heated, wanting to prove my maturity… physically.

I came up on my hands and knees on the bed, crawling the two foot of space he'd placed between us. All the while our eyes never broke contact… until I shifted my shoulders, my bare chest moving, the sweetly curved mounds were pendant beneath me… and his eyes lowered.

I felt a little guilt as I realized that I could use my body, and the gift that I had learnt that it was, to my advantage, at least in the short term. I would use it to keep him here until he understood.

I was not a child.

His eyes raked over my chest, as my arms held me up, slowly slinking closer to him. I noted the similarities to stalking prey and this erotic dance I was beginning. "Look at me Jacob," I said, lifting up to my knees, bearing myself to him. He did, his eyes roved over my skin, zigzagging across my body. "I am not a child."

I walked on my knees until I was almost on top of him. My hands reached for his, pulling him up until he too was kneeling on the bed. Our bodies aligned as we knelt face to face, naked and exposed, yet completely protected.

Gently, I took his hands in mine, lifting them up, and placing one of his hands on my waist and the other, more brazenly, on my breast. "This is not the body of child."

Then I lifted my hand, placing it gently on his chest, above his heart. And mentally, I am not a child, I said through my gift, showing him flashes of my collage experience so far, both academically and socially. The dancing with drunken fraternity brothers, my exploration of my own body as I'd developed physically, the exquisite sensation his hands and lips and body had brought out in me only minutes earlier.

And I don't feel like I'm a child, I continued, sending him the mature emotions I'd developed over the last few years as I reached adolescence and now adulthood; rationality, sympathy, compassion. I showed him snippets of the discussions and arguments I'd had with my family— mostly my father—as I'd started to develop a sense of self-assertiveness and break away from my parents. He saw my ability to formulate and implement goals, like this experiment on sexuality that led me to this very point with is amazing specimen of a man I was kneeling, naked on a bed with.

I felt his fingers slide over a nipple as again I bombarded him with all my lustful feelings and memories of what the two of us had just shared physically, less than an hour ago. And this here, I said, my hands smoothing over the muscled chords of his chest and arms, floating over the ripples of his abdominals and gently wrapping my fingers around his relaxed penis before moving up and down along the length, this is completely grown-up.

With one hand working him, I pressed my body flush with his, the other hand fanned across his shoulder blade, pressing his heated skin to mine, we are two consenting adults who both very much want to be here.

I pulled away from him somewhat then, looking upwards in to his deep and absorbing eyes.

"I am a grown woman, Jacob, and I very much would like to know you better."

I could see the conflict in his eyes. As his fingers pinched at the nipple I'd so brazenly placed his hand on, I saw the moment the logic lost. The moment he saw me for as the woman he'd first seen at the kegger. The woman I felt like. The woman that wanted to taste his love again.

But we had more things to talk about.

My hand left his burgeoning erection, both arms winding around his neck as I leaned up and kissed him sweetly. I felt, taking my inexperience into consideration, I was doing quite well with the physicality of the sexual act and the intimacy of this fledgling relationship, or whatever it was. I didn't know what this was, but it was not going to be a one-night-stand… Not if I could help it.

"Tell me more about you," I said, using my body weight to pull him down on top of me as I lay back on the pillows. "You're so hot," I said, my fingers tracing over his browns and down the sharp edge of his cheeks. "And you heal so fast… I don't know all that much, but I do know about your people. And I know about the protectors. Tell me about you, tell me about the wolf?"

.

The wolf inside of me rumbled with contentment as she pulled me down onto her naked skin and proceeded to ask about him.

I leaned to the side, pulling her with me as my arms wrapped around her little shoulders and she rested her head on my chest. I nuzzled my lips against the mark on her throat, resisting the canine urge to lick it as her fingers played with the very light spray of hair on my chest and her leg slid over mine as she wound herself around me.

My imprint wanted to know more about me. I couldn't have refused her if I'd wanted to. And I didn't want to. I wanted her to know me better than anyone in the entire world knew me. We were not going to have any secrets. Secrets breed mistrust and resentment. I'd learnt that first hand, after the elders so wisely decided that us children didn't need to know—even hours before— that we were going to morph in giant dogs. The pack all held a lot of resentment to the tribal council over their role in making the life changing transition from normal res rat kid, to a four legged, demon killing, mythical creature, a lot harder than it needed to be. A lot of things changed after I became Alpha. Full disclosure and honesty being a big part.

"I come from a long line of Quileute warriors," I started softly, lifting of the sheets to turn off the side lamp before settling back next to her. One hand smoothed over her forehead and over the softest hair I'd ever felt. Her skin was luminescent in the moonlight beaming through the partially open window curtain. My eyes saw every curve of her features as if it has been broad daylight. I'd never seen anything so beautiful in all my days on this Earth.

Leah has a quote hanging in the front entry of her and JP's apartment in Seattle. The words flashed in my mind as I struggled over the rightness of telling her all the facts in my fucked up biography. Love cannot make a home where lies and secrets sleep, the plaque says. Leah had told him she was a wolf on their forth date. And because of her honesty, he'd been able to be there for her, every step of the way, as she'd given it up.

I wanted to make a home with this beautiful girl. There could be no lies and absolutely no secrets.

"I was sixteen when I first phased. I'd just been to see a movie with your mother."

"You knew my mother when she was human?" she asked, a presently surprised smile on her lips.

I look down at her, nodding and lovingly brushing a finger over her porcelain cheek before continuing. No secrets. "I thought I was in love with your mother back then."

I heard her gasp, but I kept powering through before I lost my nerve. "And for a little while she might have even loved me too. But it wasn't enough," I hurried to say, turning so that I could look directly in to her eyes and she could see the sincerity in my words.

"Because then he came back. She'd never stopped loving Edward. I was never really in the running. And then they got married, and I was so angry… and broken… for so long." Both of my hands were cupping her face as I shuffled down to be face to face with her. "And then tonight… at a stupid collage frat party," I laughed to myself. "You… you were there. And… my god, Renesmee…"I could hear the reverence in my own voice as I spoke her name. "I had no idea what love was, not until I walked out to that crappy, pot hazed courtyard and I saw you there. And my whole world changed. You are my whole word now. And I'm whole. I love you."

I saw oceans of reactions flash though her eyes. Shock and hurt, amazement and flattery. I saw the disbelief at my seemingly impulsive declaration of love and then the relief that the seemingly impulsive declaration held. She felt it too. She didn't understand it, but she felt the love.

I could see her sorting through all the information I'd told her. I watched her face as she internally categorized them.

Eventually, she quirked her head, looking up at me as she asked, "What do you mean he came back? Where did my father go?"

Shit.

I'd told her I used to love her mother, and her mother may have, kind of, loved me once too. I'd told her that I was in love with her after meeting her at a frat party only two hours earlier and all she had honed in on was the Edward had done a runner bit? Uh, uh, uh, there was no way on this freakn' planet that I was getting into that story. "That's your mother's story to tell," I said, shaking my head.

She nodded, almost undetectable and she seemed to file that line of questioning away for later. Much later, I hoped.

She closed her eyes for a few moments before they opened, he gaze now directed to my chest. I could see her eyes tracking as her hand traced up my breastbone, lifting off and hovering over my heart. With the steadiness of the supernatural, her palm just hovered there, just an inch from my skin; no further, no closer. She wasn't touching me, yet I could still feel her. The tickle of our bond was zapping between us.

"Why can I feel you every time we touch? And even like this, I can feel you Jacob. On my skin and in my very being."

My hand slid up to hers, weaving my fingers through as I pulled her just that little bit closer.

No secrets.

I licked my lips and took a confidence boosting breath before answering. "It's called an imprint bond. I can feel it too." My voice was soft in the still and quiet night.

I could see her lift her head up from the pillow to look at me in the darkness, her eyes shone with little moon shaped reflections in the brown mesmerizing pools. "What's an imprint bond?"

"It's the mingling of two souls, Renesmee. When the wolf finds his counterpart in this universe, there is no one else, she becomes his everything, his world."

Again that image of me in the courtyard of the frat party, falling to my knees as our eyes met flashed into my mind. Is that what that was?

I nodded, kissing her temple, "yeah sweetheart, that was my soul finally meeting it's other half. You."

.

The soul of his wolf recognized me as its counterpart. But it's more than that, I can feel him; inside and out. I have such an illogical driving need to never leave his side. There is an overwhelming sensation of security when I am by his side.

Pulsing though my veins— if I have them that is, no one has ever been game enough to bite me to find out and risk encountering the wrath of well… the wrath of all of them. Pulsing though my body— possibly veins— and in to the very core of my spirit, was the strong physical attraction I felt towards Jacob.

It was as if everything about him physically was exactly to my taste.

I loved how his smooth caramel skin contrasted with my cream, how his soft pillow lips felt on mine, his broad shoulders as he held me close, his strong defined back that my fingers could hold on to, the play of the pectoral muscles on his chest as he held himself above me, his stomach as it rippled as his hips moved, his… well I'd done the research, his penis was well above average. In size and in girth.

And his eyes, they held me prisoner. Not that I ever wanted to escape his hold. They were so dark and deep and full of the love he'd only just declared to me.

He was made for me.

Body, heart and soul.

In every way, somehow, in only a few hours, he'd ticked off nearly all of the human experience I'd wanted to achieve while here studying at university. University. In California. Nowhere near his people in the Quileute valley.

I felt the constriction my chest at the thought of him maybe heading back to his home in the morning. I couldn't let that happen. Maybe he didn't want to leave me either.

I had to find out.

"Do you live in Washington?"

He paused for a moment. I assume in an attempt to try to understand the meaning behind my atypical response to his explanation of this 'imprint bond'.

It hadn't taken me long to process and accept his revelation. It all made sense to me. I'd seen it in my family. Each one so deeply in love with their partner. I'd seen it every day of my life with my mother and my father's love for one another. Their cold unbeating hearts alive once again inside the heart of the other. I understood that level of connection.

I'd wanted it all my life.

If he was going back to his home, I was going with him. My soul was demanding it.

With a curious smile on his lips, he finally replied, "Yes," nodded, his face brushing against the taupe colored sheets, "I live in La Push."

There was a questioning push to his smile as he waited for me to elaborate. He didn't realize that I'd already processed his confession, accepted it, and then moved on to the practicalities of such and all-encompassing bond.

I knew he needed clearer acknowledgement of my understanding from him, but I was too enthralled with his smile to care about interpreting the hidden question in it.

Because he was smiling…There is something about Jacob's smile, it lights him from within. It changes his already rugged and hansom face into something of the Gods. He is beautiful when he smiles. And was smiling at me.

It grabbed me by the ovaries once more. I wanted those lips on my body and those teeth biting through my skin.

I shifted and moved my still naked body so that I was pressed along the hard lines of his. My breasts pressed into his chest as my hips begin to roll over his now thick erection. Leaning down, I pressed my lips to his. Softly and sweetly I held my lips to his briefly, before pulling back and looking forlornly in to his eyes. We needed to sort the geography out.

"When do you have to go back?" I asked, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. The thought of me not being able to be there in my arms again that night, and every other night, made my insides churn.

His hands glided over the lines of my back, one hand cupping over my bottom as the other held onto my shoulder.

"I don't have to," he said, "I can stay as long as you'll have me."

With his words, I felt the freedom of his embrace lift me up. I leaned down once more, meeting his lips in a hot open mouth kiss, full of lust and love and longing. I realized, with an awakening of a long dormant metaphoric chamber of my heat, like a lotus flower opening to the early morning dewy dawn, that I was irrevocably, and interminably in love with this man.

My hand cupped the side of his chiseled face, as a smile stretched over my lips, I think I'd like to have you for an eternity.

More to come soon.