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Chapter Fourteen
In the eerie calm of LaPush, Paul had traded his heart for duty, slipping into the role of protector with the practiced ease of a wolf who had long accepted his fate. The pack's vigilance had doubled under the looming threat of Victoria and James, and each night brought new patrols that merged into a blurred rhythm of the forest's heartbeat and the thrill of the hunt.
Amidst the rustling trees and the familiar howls of his brothers, he often found himself wrestling with the pull of two worlds—one that required his loyalty to his family lauding over him, and one that beckoned him into the chaotic embrace of neon lights.
The warmth of Nicky's laughter used to fill the spaces between his duties, but this past week, as Paul spent more time buried under the weight of his responsibilities, and more time in the pack mind seeing the happy faces of all the pack's imprints as they thought of the loves of their lives, Nicky's laughter and happiness it brought him felt more like a distant echo.
He had always viewed her through a protective lens, since he'd first come across her, in her hectic car, but the desire to keep her safe felt like a double-edged sword. With every night he patrolled more and more because he was the pack's best fighter and Nicky was his sister.
He had decided to be on duty non-stop until they came across and killed the vampires, the stupid fucking coven that was after Nicky, and as he patrolled more and more, and stayed a wolf for longer, with the imprinted wolves thoughts making their way into his head, Paul became less Paul—her brother, her ally—and more of an icy sentinel, consumed by an obligation that felt suffocating and relentless.
Paul started to make his way to the club in Seattle, a couple of nights in that week. In the dark corners of the club, where bodies swayed to the pulse of electronic beats and emotions were lost in loud laughter and heavy bass, Paul felt both liberated and trapped.
The thumping music drowned out the voices in his head, telling him he was forgetting the warmth of family and the innocent joy of sharing a moment with Nicky. But in those hours spent amidst strangers, confronting a reality without vampire threats, the chaos was a temporary balm for a heart that was growing colder by the day.
The club was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could drown out his worries with tequila shots and fleeting connections. Everyone in the room was a silhouette, filled with life but devoid of meaning; the faces changed with each visit, and their names blurred into the background, just another line in a night filled with dopamine.
Yet, alone amidst the throng, he could sense the hollowness of his escapism. Laughter echoed around him, but he felt lonely, an island in a sea of transient energy.
It was during one of these nights, as he leaned against the bar nursing a drink, that he caught sight of an unfamiliar girl. With sun-kissed skin that glimmered under the multicoloured lights and a smile that was easy but hard to trust, she caught his eye—a flicker of warmth in a crowd that felt unusually frigid. He approached her, hiding beneath a facade of bravado, laughing off the stoicism that encased him like armour.
"Hey, what's your name?" he asked, leaning closer, the sound of her voice barely cutting through the music.
"Amber," she replied with a twinkle in her eyes that momentarily peeled away the layers of coldness he wrapped himself in.
There was a moment—a brief heartbeat—where it felt like it could be just the two of them beneath the whirling chaos. He wanted to pull her close, take her home, violate her body, ravage in his desire for a fleeting connection, a connection that could alleviate his itch.
Although, Paul's stoic, hard mask he wore did not ease the women into his arms. He didn't want to do the useless small-talk, engage himself in banter with someone he couldn't care less about, whose body he only wanted to ravage and penetrate. He wasn't much for conversation.
Paul's body did all the work for him though. His muscular build, his tall frame, his big arms, pulsing muscles drew chics to him like flies to fruit. He was the fruit—the sensual, sexy, mature, provocative body that caused the club of women to drool and leak in their panties as they looked in his direction.
Paul couldn't just see the lust in the women's eyes's around him, as he stood in the club, he coud smell it in the air around him. The large room smelled of the sweet liquid leaking down the women's thighs as they turned his way. The room smelled of sex and it mixed with the aroma of booze, sweat, cigarettes and drugs.
He wouldn't have ever smelled so many toxins, the soap in the bathroom, the chemicals used to clean the bar, the smell of cranberry juice in a mixed vodka drink and so much more before he'd become a shifter, but now he smelled more than he ever wished to know at once.
He was over-stimulated. But he was massively turned on and ready to get out of this environment and bed a girl so he could forget about all of his problems for just a moment. While he sucked on a girls nipples, played with her pussy, put his tongue down her throat, and fucked her hard, he'd get to experience a small amount of ecstasy and dopamine that would help him forget about his life.
"Do you come here often?" Amber asked, trying to keep the conversation alive. Paul saw the genuine curiosity in her gaze, layered with the hints of mischief.
"No," he said, the word heavy in his mouth.
"Just when I need to forget for a while."
"Is it working?" she challenged lightly, and he felt her probing—trying to get right through his defenses, like it's probably worked before— but with others— less dominant, powerful than him.
He chuckled darkly, the laughter echoing hollow in his chest.
"Sure, gorgeous." He replied.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.
She looked up, her eyes sparkling with interest.
"Sure. What do you recommend?"
As the drinks flowed, she became intoxicated and they danced for a bit among the other patrons. The energy between them crackled as they lost themselves in the rhythm of the music, swaying closer until they could feel the heat and sweat radiating from each other's bodies.
Eventually, Paul leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear, whispering a sweet nothing that sent shivers down her spine. He could see her thighs shake, her lips quiver, her loins drip in lust. The thrill of anonymity and reckless abandon rushed through Paul and he knew he was close to getting her where he wanted her.
Hours later, they stumbled out into the cool night air. The city's neon lights painted her skin in hues of vibrant rebellion. She led Paul to her apartment a few blocks away, his muscles rippling beneath the tight fabric of his shirt and her sweat gleamed under the city lights, illuminating her skin beneath her tight, small dress.
The girl, Lia, intoxicated with excitement and a hint of alcohol, led Paul eagerly into her apartment. Paul could smell the juices between her legs and he knew she was ready for the taking tonight. It wasn't chemistry that fueled his fire to get her in bed—it was a desperate need for fleeting pleasure, a temporary reprieve from the weight of his reality.
Once inside, Paul wasted no time. The kiss ignited a primal hunger between them, raw and unrefined. Their breaths mingled as they fell onto the bed, losing themselves in a whirlwind of skin and desire.
Paul's focus was singular—indulging in ecstasy, forgetting the life that haunted him, kept him up at all hours, made him feel like he wasn't in control, always on the defense. His hands roamed her body, claiming her in a way that felt territorial. But in that moment, he was oblivious to the nuances of connection. He didn't care about soft whispers or shared sweet remarks; he sought nothing but the electric thrill of the moment.
The night blurred with passionate intensity, each movement a dance of bodies, each sound a stark release of pent-up tension. Yet, beneath it all, Paul remained untouched by emotion, a man sealed off in a bubble of pleasure resigned to the fleeting nature of it all. They lost themselves to the night, wrapped in each other's heat—a brief flame in the vast dark.
When the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, illuminating the room, reality began to seep in. Paul mirrored the light's starkness, feeling it expose the emptiness within. With a quiet detachment, he untangled himself from the sheets, leaving her tangled in rest and stillness, an afterthought to a night of recklessness. Dressing swiftly, he moved with a purpose, his body strong and unyielding. He glanced back once, but it was more curiosity than concern.
As he slipped out into the chilly morning air, the weight of his decisions lingered, but he brushed it aside. The girl was an echo of a moment long forgotten, a participant in a night that had meant everything for a second yet in the big picture, nothing at all.
Paul stepped into the streets, a man, a shifter alone with his thoughts, once again. He walked at a fast pace back towards the club so he could get in his truck and drive back to LaPush, where he would go straight back to patrol and have to hear the loving, intimate, nauseating thoughts of all the imprinted pack members once again.
And as the sun rose, Paul walked on—stoic, muscular, and haunted by the very existence he could never quite escape.
As he drove home, thoughts of Nicky filled his mind, her laughter, her presence, her safety, protecting her— his priority, his only objective now. Despite having to sacrifice some of his humanity for the sake of duty, for her protection, for her to be on aconstant guard, he would find a way to balance it all, once she was no longer being hunted.
Soon he'd be able to protect her and still hold onto the connections that brought him joy. Even though it was much less joy than the imprinted wolves had, atleast he still had a flicker of it, that kept him human.
When this nightmare, this hunt on Nicky was over, maybe, just maybe, he could learn to embrace the warmth of the pack again, lust in the laughter, and love again—maybe one day an imprint would come his way but until then he could indulge in his happiness when he was with his sister, his family.
He would be a better brother, a better wolf. It was going to be a long journey, but for the first time in a while, Paul felt hope.
…
The sun was beginning to dip behind the jagged peaks of the Olympic Mountains, casting long shadows over the forest surrounding LaPush. Paul ran alongside his packmates, Jacob, Embry and Jared, the cool evening breeze rushing past them, but there was no comfort in the chill. Paul's heart pounded in time with his powerful legs as they raced through the undergrowth, adrenaline igniting his senses like wildfire.
Anger simmered just below the surface. The weight of recent events pressed down on him like a boulder. It was a fire that had started small but was now raging out of control. With each day that passed, Paul felt his grip on humanity slip further away, replaced by a bloodlust that twisted his morality until it was almost unrecognizable. He was tired of waiting. Tired of holding back.
Tonight was going to be different. Tonight, he longed for vengeance.
The crack of twigs and the rustle of leaves shattered his focus. Paul's instincts kicked in as he halted, raising his snout to catch the unmistakable scent of two vampires—foul, sickly sweet, and enticing.
It was a scent he had grown to detest yet crave in an animalistic way. Victoria, a red-haired predator who had carved a personal vendetta against the pack, and Nicky was one. The other, he quickly deduced, was James, sadistic and the worst of them all. Their arrival meant trouble.
Embry's thoughts ran rampant of Nicky's safety and of her being alone—without protection, and so did Paul's but not to the same degree. Nicky was Embry's imprint, and the imprint pull ran strong when an imprint was faced with danger, even the thought, the implication, the chance of it.
"Go to Nicky. Phase out, Embry." Ordered Jacob, as he thought of the pack's chances at a fight without Embry's distracting thoughts and thought of Nicky's well-being aswell.
Embry phased out of the pack mind as he became human. The pack howled, a mix of frustration and clarity that echoed through the trees. It served as a warning—a call to action for the other pack members in LaPush to shift, phase if they weren't already phased because their howls meant that danger was here— vampires.
In an instant, the familiar blend of rage and fear coursed through the wolves as more wolves shifted, ready to protect, and they prepared for a battle that seemed inevitable.
"Stay focused!" Jacob growled, leading the charge as alpha, as they set off, their paws pounding rhythmically against the earth.
The air was charged with tension. The leeches were first on the ground, so close, almost caught by Paul's fast paces but the vampires were quick, and smart and started bounding through the trees like shadows, using their unnatural speed amongst the trees to evade the wolves below. But the pack was relentless.
Paul pushed himself forward, fueled by anger. They were closing in, chasing the scent that twisted through the air, split by the two creatures' sudden recklessness. Paul could feel the heat of the moment, aware that the pack was growing as more wolves joined the pursuit, their spirits ignited by the threat.
Suddenly, the pack realized that Victoria and James had split. One had turned left, the other right. James was leaving LaPush, his scent's direction was clear. But Victoria was still here. That realization sent a surge of adrenaline through him as they redirected their chase toward the scent of Victoria. James would have to wait. There couldn't be a vampire in LaPush.
The familiar landscape of LaPush shifted as they negotiated the trees with practiced ease. But as they followed Victoria's scent, it led them to a small river in the LaPush forest where she'd jumped across to divert them. The pack couldn't swim across it as wolves or leap across it for it was too long.
"Everyone do a lap of LaPush!" Jacob ordered through the pack mind, and the pack fell into a quick rhythm, their senses heighted, and they ran around LaPush at different intervals, looking for any signs of Victoria's wherebouts or James's return.
Suddenly Embry's phased in and worry, fear, and the scent of a vampire flowed from Embry's thoughts and through the pack. Embry was supposed to just guard Nicky in his human form but Embry being phased meant that something was very wrong.
Pauls anger intensified and the anger from the pack, long with worry ran through the pack mind as they collectively headed towards Embry's location, Paul's house, towards where Nicky and Embry were.
Through the pack mind, as they pack made their way to Nicky and Embry, they could see Embry fighting Victoria in Paul's living room. Embry had the upperhand, as he fended off Victoria's attacks alone and made sure she couldn't get enough leeway to get upstairs to where Nicky was.
But suddenly, while Embry was utterly and only animalisticly focused on the hunt, his instinct, protection and duty, the scent of Nicky wafted throug the pack mind from behind Embry's offense before the stairs but Embry was too focused to recognize it and before the pack could warn him Nicky had run down the stairs.
The pack couldn't see her through Embry's mind because his back was towards the stairs and he was facing Victoria, but the pack could hear and smell her presence though the pack mind.
They could smell Nicky's shampoo, the sounds of her little feet tramping down the stairs towards Embry and Victorra and the smell of her fear; it was all clear as day. But Embry was hyperfocused, blocking out the chorus of other thoughts in the pack mind as he signled out his thoughts to his only objective; Victoria.
As Victoria lunged forward to take a swipe at Embry, Victoria caught a chunk of Embry's furr and pushed him backwards and Embry fell back, Nicky has reached the bottom of the stairs, the pack could her little feet reach the floor and Embry landed hard on Nicky, the sound of her screams, and the sound of her bones break rang through the pack mind through Embry's conciousness.
Then— it registered for Embry, as he pulled his thoughts out of the singular focus, smelled Nicky's blood, heard her blood-curdling screams, and felt her broken body and cracked bones bellow his furry form that weighed as much as an elephant.
"NO!" Paul's heart raced in a way that he had never experienced.
Nicky was hurt. The primal need to protect his own pulled at him fiercely, and before he could think, he was leading the charge, his pack following closely, desperate to close the distance between them and his house, where Nicky, Embry and Victoria were.
As the pack neared Paul's house, a shiver raced down Paul's spine as the sounds of chaos reached his ears—pained grunts and howls that sounded of agony, worry and sadness from Embry, and the, piercing screams of Nicky that cut through the night like a knife, and the smell of her blood, so much blood.
As they crashed into the front door and into Paul's house, the sight that met their eyes fueled Paul's rage to unfathomable levels. Embry was locked in a fierce struggle with Victoria, but the vampire was fast, spinning just out of reach, her laughter cold and taunting. Nicky's terrified and pained screams echoed in the night, a sound that turned Paul's blood to ice, as she lay below the stairs to the second floor in a pool of her own blood.
Paul amassed every fiber of his being, charging forward with the force of the pack behind him. Together they surged, a wave of ferocity and fury, their wolf forms merging into one unrelenting force. Paul lunged towards Victoria, determined to end the threat. But his thoughts also pulled at helping Nicky, getting her to the hospital, getting her safe, getting her help.
Although Jacob had ordered Seth and Quil to phase human and help Nicky, despite him being the best fighte and being needed, he quickly made the reckless decision to put his family first and he phased and ran over to Nicky, the smell of her blood invading his nose with every step.