"Furiae?"
I know this voice. It's smooth even now when the world is crashing down around me. I've gone so far, traveled the distance, and now I can't even look up. I can't face him now. Not now.
"I am sorry," is all I can say.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice stern, and it aches my ever beating heart.
"I wanted to see you again," I mumble. I am not sure he could even hear that with the waves crashing not too far from us.
"Why?"
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," I lift my right hand up and wipe the tears away from my eyes but my heart still hurts. It feels like there is a weight dangling from the end of it.
"You can't be here," he says. I hear his feet on the stones, they sound like they are fading away.
"No, wait!" I cry out, leaping to my feet and rushing to stop his departure. He stops but doesn't turn my way. His head is bowed and I can see clearly that he has changed.
Not only is he more physically built than the last time I saw him, but his hair is cut short and I glimpse a tattoo on right bicep. He's not wearing a shirt out in the rain, just a pair of jean shorts and a pair of boots.
"I came all this way - all the way from Montana - to see you again."
"Is that where you ran off to?" His voice sounds clipped.
My outreached hand falls down to my side.
"I knew they didn't tell you," I mutter, feeling the tenseness in my chest of wanting to cry again. He truly believed I just up and left him, especially when he was in such a terrible state. "The day you got sick, there were three men -"
"Stop it," he says. "Just stop."
"No," I hiss.
I see his back flex and his head turns slightly towards me, but not quite looking at me.
"No matter what you say, I can't be around you."
"Why?" I whisper.
"I am not good for you, or for anybody," he steps away from me, but I snatch his left hand with both of mine and hold my ground. His hand is incredibly hot, as hot as the night he was sick. It sends shivers down my spine.
"Don't you turn this around on you," I demand. "I need you."
"You know," he starts. He lifts his head and looks up at the cloudy sky above. "I thought about you a lot. I'd remember our times spent together, even though they were short, they still meant something to me. And then the dreams came."
"Dreams?" The blood rushes hot through my veins. He thought about me.
"I had dreams about you, often. And nightmares, of you leaving."
"I didn't leave you!" I yell, gripping his hand even harder. "They took me away!"
He stiffens, I feel his fingers twitch in my hands. His head comes back down and looks back at the side, almost directly at me. "Who?"
"The three men! The ones that came that night you were sick. One of them, his name was Jared, ripped me right out of your room and then - I don't know. Something happened and I fainted. I woke up in a hospital in Montana," with every word I pour my heart out, but he doesn't show any expression from what I can see.
"Jared?" He asks. "Did you get the other two mens' names?"
"No. One was very demanding of Jared, commanding him to take me out of the room. I fought back, Jacob, you have to believe me."
His fingers clasp around my hands and he slowly turns to me, his eyes low, as if afraid to look at me.
"How'd you get back here?"
"It's a long story," I watch my hands connected with his. A warmth runs up my arms and comforts the rest of my aching body. "I escaped the hospital, got jobs here and there, made little money and took buses to get back here."
His eyes examine my feet, the wear and tear of the boots I had to buy in one city because the others I stole were too big. And then they move up to my legs, the dirtiness from the mud and rain, and up to my midsection, where my blouse sticks to me like a second skin. And finally, to my face, where our eyes meet and his softening considerably.
I can hear him stop breathing, the grip around my hands tighten, and his lips part. His legs shake underneath him and he slowly falls down to his knees in front of me, his eyes stuck on mine.
He exhales in a long sigh. "Furiae…." He whispers more fluently than I have ever heard him say before.
"Jake? What's wrong?" I ask. I am not sure why he got weak in the legs all of sudden, or why he kneeled down, but the warmth in his eyes right now washes away all the pain and stress I've felt throughout these several months.
"Nothing…." He whispers again. "I just found you."
"Found me?"
"My purpose for living."
My heart flutters in my chest and I can feel heat roll through my entire body. He lifts my hands to his face and rests his forehead on my fingers.
"Forgive me, Furiae."
"For what?"
"For almost leaving you here," he says slowly and full of what sounds like regret.
"Jake…."
"Jacob!" A familiar voice calls out to him from afar. This voice was demanding on the day I was torn away from Jacob. My eyes search the background for the source of the voice and it's there, coming out of the forest across the street where I see them. This time there are more than three. All of them are tall and muscular, not wearing any shirts, and have short hair. They are all native men, but the tallest is who I remember the most.
"It's them…." My eyes widen and I step back away from Jacob, my hands still in his grip.
Jacob looks over his shoulders at the slowly approaching group of men, a low growl coming from the depths of his chest. He stands up and tugs me behind him, his left hand now holding onto my left hand.
"Get away from her," the tallest commands in a much deeper voice. One that is more commanding than I heard that night.
"No," Jake says with a final tone.
"No? That's a demand!"
"I'm not leaving her, not ever again. You and no one else can make me."
"What?" There is a briefness of silence between them all. I get the feeling they are trying to read the situation, but all I can see is Jacob's back in the way. "Did you….imprint?"
Jacob nods slowly. "Yes," he hisses.
I hesitantly look around Jacob's left side and see the disappointment on the leader's face. I am not sure what this imprint means, but it visually bothers the leader. Some of the other men smile, and woot. The others look to their leader for how to react.
"Why'd you do it?" Jacob asks. "Sam, why'd you take her away?"
Sam, the leader, looks down at me and sighs.
"We couldn't have her anywhere near you after you transitioned. She could have gotten hurt or know our secret, but then," Sam's eyes narrow. "Something happened in that house. A light came out of her hands and an explosion went off. It sent all of us back, and Jared and Furiae out the door. We weren't sure what that was and didn't want to find out. I had the pack take her away so she wouldn't become an issue."
"A light?" Jacob glances down at me, but not with disgust or disbelief. But with genuine warmth. "If you didn't send her away, I would have imprinted, I wouldn't have gone through all that pain with Bella."
"Jacob, she's not human."
Jacob's eyes narrow in a deadly glare that he sends in Sam's direction. "I don't give a fuck."
Sam takes a step back, the others watching with wide surprised eyes.
"Come on, Furiae," Jake says, still seething from his comment to Sam.
"Where are we going?"
"Home."