There is an undeniable lure in being wanted. Edward had wanted her, but so did Jacob, and it was not the same.
For two years she'd tried to give Edward exactly what he wanted from her, but she didn't understand his desire, and she never felt it was enough. It would never be exactly what he wanted; not until he consumed all of her, until she was just like him. But Jacob wanted her. She knew exactly what he meant and she also knew it would be almost too much for him. And for her. Still, desire knotted hot in her belly as Jacob pressed closer. She had the fleeting thought that he could probably smell her own arousal.
"Bells?" His voice dropped into its deeper wolfish timber, almost like a growl. He knew and he wanted to her say it.
Edward had promised to change her into a vampire himself, after their wedding. When he did, she would lose this human wanting—the coursing hot mix of pheromones and hormones burning her alive from the inside out, the sweat and heat of bodies moving together as if they'd become the same person—as surely as she would lose Jacob.
"I want you too." She leaned forward and kissed him, choosing him in this short, hidden moment. If she was going to die, she wanted to live.
Jacob's mouth had slanted over hers, even as he'd pressed her body tight against him, a thundering rumble rolling in his chest. "Bells," he tore his mouth free, his breath shallow, his eyes serious. "Please don't do this unless you're sure."
It was a warning. If he took her now, he wouldn't take another. She would be his in the eyes of his wolf. His first, his mate. She should've told him no. If she'd loved him like he deserved she would've let him go before stealing his heart only to break it again. But she was so young, so selfish, and so afraid. She wanted—needed—to know what it was like, before everything changed.
"I'm sure." She'd spoken so quickly, she hadn't had time to realize how true her words were. The truth often cuts itself free, quickly and without remorse. She was sure. "I want—"
You. He didn't have the patience to wait for her to finish.
Bella always thought of herself as something of a prude. She'd understood sexual intercourse in a scientific way, learning the mechanical basics and hormonal components, first in her freshman biology course, then in more detail, blushing her way through four years of sex ed classes. What science and facts couldn't tell her was the difference between mating and making love.
At first, Jacob had made love to her, slowly and gently; a man caught up in just her; relishing her skin, worshiping her curves, drowning in her scent, reveling in each precious part of her. He couldn't stop the whispered awe tumbling out of his mouth. He'd tried so hard to make it about her, she didn't mind when it hurt a little, or when the tension between them built, the pace suddenly changing. His eyes flickered darker and she'd seen his wolf reflected there, demanding its share, its mate. She'd laid her hand on his face and nodded. She wasn't afraid of the wolf or the man. He'd flipped her over and mated her, until she gasped and trembled, shaking underneath him in a sea of warmth she couldn't imagine if she'd tried. Then she'd felt the sting of his teeth on her shoulder, and then warmth of his tongue, then his lips. They'd collapsed onto their sides, the night wind blowing sweetly over the sweat dusting their skin.
"Wow." His simple utter delight and astonishment helped her to smile, even as tears had gathered in her eyes. They had laid there, their bodies connected for much longer than she knew was normal. She'd wriggled a little, trying to pull free. "Sorry." He kissed her neck. "It's kind of a—"
"Wolf thing?" She finished for him.
"Yeah." He chuckled and kissed the spot on her right shoulder where his teeth had left their faint mark. "Did I hurt you, honey?"
He didn't hurt her. He was Jake and she was Bells. She had hurt him.
"Ouch," she sucked in a breath and sat up in bed, rubbing her side. "Get your little paw off my ribs," she growled. Her baby's foot was securely lodged beneath her ribcage, the pressure sending a sharp jolt of pain through her muscles. She gently pushed the heel of her hand down on the spot until the baby shifted it's feet. Sometimes the warmth coursing through her body reminded her of what it was like to be held, to be loved, an echo of what she'd had before throwing it all away. "I hope you look like him," she whispered, hugging her stomach again. Jacob had begged her to stay, to run away with him, tears he refused to shed making his eyes shine in the gray dawn.
"We can run, Bells," he'd grabbed her hand. "Run and not look back. Please."
"I can't,"
"Can't or won't?" His grip was firm, but never too tight. "You're mine now, Bells, and I'm yours."
"I'm not yours," she snapped. "I'll never be yours."
Jacob's face had turned ashen, his eyes dark with anger. She thought she saw the sun glint off a wetness on his cheek when he turned and ran. She'd shut her eyes against his pain, but she heard the unnatural gut crunching sound as he shifted and kept on running. She'd stumbled back through the woods, refusing to let herself cry, even when she heard the anguished howl of his wolf. Maybe if she had cried then, he would've heard her and come back. Maybe things could've been different.
For three days she pretended it hadn't happened, pretended she hadn't betrayed Edward or broken Jacob, pretended she knew exactly what she wanted. Then Sam and Paul and Jared had found her after the wedding. She didn't have a chance to say anything, but she didn't need to. Paul and Jared's expressions held so much anger and bitterness, but Sam looked tired and old in away that made Bella feel oddly guilty.
"Care to dance?" Sam's request took her by surprise, but Edward had agreed, with an air of uncaring superior confidence that made Bella even more uneasy.
Sam's hands were hot, burning through the silky fabric of her dress. Like Jacob's. She shook her head, trying to focus on Sam. He looked mildly uncomfortable in his wrinkled button-down. None of the wolves were used to wearing more than was absolutely necessary. "Nice shirt."
"Nice dress." He glanced over her again, his face etched with sadness. His eyes dropped to her shoulder, and Bella had covered it with one hand, as if she could hide the evidence of her crime. "It shouldn't be white."
She'd gasped at his words. Of course the pack already knew what she'd done with Jacob. They'd seen it the moment he shifted and ran.
"Don't judge me, Sam Uley," she'd said, shoving him with both hands. It was like shoving a brick wall. "Don't you dare."
"Bella," She knew Sam had a soft spot for her. And he knew what is was like to have his heart torn in two. "Don't."
"You left Leah for her cousin, so don't you fucking tell me you had no choice."
"I did have a choice." Pain etched deeper in his face.
Emily Young had been Sam's first everything when he was only fifteen; a summer love affair that ended badly when her father caught them together. She broke his heart, told Sam not to call her, and then was gone. He'd held onto her memory for two years, angry and bitter. Then he'd met Leah Clearwater when he was seventeen and his heart healed, little by little, until Emily's memory faded. After he shifted into a wolf, he'd kept Leah in the dark. Secrets breed lies and lies break trust. When Emily suddenly came back, like a ghost from his past, Sam had mated her in a moment of stupid passion. As a wolf he'd chosen Emily, even while his heart was tied to Leah. Regret ate at him, but he couldn't take it back. Their's was an Alpha bond and couldn't be broken; they were in it for life, until one of them died, or Sam was overthrown as Alpha. When Leah shifted and finally learned the whole truth, she was devastated.
"I chose wrong." He raised his chin. "So did you."
"You bastard,"
"Jacob's gone, Bella." Sam interrupted.
"Gone?" She stared at him, her fingers digging into his arms. "Can't you make him come back?"
"He broke with the pack."
"He—you didn't stop him?"
"I tried," Sam met her gaze. Bella's eyes widened. If Jake had truly broken with the pack, Alpha commands and pack loyalty, could no longer hold him. Sam nodded, answering her unspoken question, "It's rare, but it can happen." He sighed, dropping his hands. "We can't hear him anymore either."
Bella stared. The shared pack mind was the strangest part of the Quileute wolves, binding them together when they were in wolf form. If they couldn't hear Jacob then—
"But he'll be back, won't he? What happens when he comes back?"
"If," Sam said sharply. "If he comes back. He'll be an Alpha."
"But you're the—"
"There'll be a fight," Sam growled. "One of us will lose."
"F-fight?" Her eyes widened. "No, you're pack brothers, Sam. You can't—Jake wouldn't—"
"There can only be one Alpha." He turned and headed for the woods where she could see Paul and Jared waiting.
"But he'll come back, won't he?" She'd called after him, suddenly desperate for his assurance. "Sam?"
Sam turned at the edge of the clearing, "Are you sure you want that, leech lover?" There was frost in his words, and a challenge. She realized then she didn't know what she wanted and never had. But it had been too late.
"Almost too late," Bella shifted slowly and lifted her hand to brush the curve of the dream catcher which hung from her headboard. It was funny now, to see all the pieces Jacob had left behind. They all found her again, slowly and surely, like flowers pushing up through the frozen ground. She didn't know who'd sent her the old dream catcher Jake had given her on her eighteenth birthday. Probably Charlie. She might be invisible, but her father wasn't stupid, and he must know where she was. If he didn't know, he'd tear apart the world looking for her. But he hadn't called or written. He never did unless he was worried. Sending the dream catcher was his own way of quietly loving her when she needed it the most.
"I love you."
Jacob had been right. Sometimes words lie, especially when shades of meaning are buried within them. She'd said those same words to Charlie, to Renée, to her friends, to Edward, and to Jacob. Each time it meant something a little different. Love had lied to her until her mind whispered that what she felt for Edward was irrevocable, unchanging, immortal. Maybe it was, but whatever it was, she could no longer call it love. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find the right word for what she'd felt, to replace the lie. A vampire thing, she thought grimly. Humans words simply didn't fit. It wasn't the same.
She closed her eyes, one hand resting on the heat of her stomach.
"I love you."
I love you, Bells.
It wasn't the same.