*Was I kinda evil to leave y'all on that cliffhanger? I'm sorry. But dw, you know I'm not doing our boy dirty. That's how you know I'm not stephenie meyer. oh, and I don't own twilight. I'm just being silly rolling around in mud. Kind of like Jacob in this chap.

There are parts of this that I lifted directly from Breaking Dawn. I thought I was done doing that in the wedding chap, but some of Jakes POV is relevant.

I'm so happy with the comments I've been getting, btw... you don't even realize how much it makes my day reading them!

Enjoy... I'll be plotting, scheming more ways to make blorbos suffer on their way to their HEA.*

I can't believe I fell in love with such a damn coward.

I also can't believe I am still in love with said coward. What idiot would still be in love with a girl while they watched her marry the epitome of the thing they hated the most, the thing that single-handedly ruined their life? Gonna have to change my name to Jacob The Biggest Moronic Bozo Idiot in the World Black. Cause sadly, seeing her today, after a month of dropping off the face of the earth, only made me love her more.

She stood on the altar, staring intensely into the leech's dead eyes. She looked like a deer in headlights, the type the freak liked to eat. I could see that she hated all the eyes on her. He held her shaky, soft hands and said something I didn't care to hear. I couldn't place the expression on her face cause I never really could when he was around. She looked like she was in a trance or something. Ogling him, waiting for whatever he was going to say next; it really was one of the most bizarre things I've ever had to unfortunately witness. It was sorta funny but mostly disgusting how they dressed up like a traditional bride and groom.

My stomach turned.

It was hard to watch the crowd be oh-so-happy to bear witness to their "ceremony of love." Too bad they didn't know he was going to kill her. You'd think that would be a valid reason to object, to speak now or forever hold my peace, but nah, apparently, I'm the crazy one. Even Sam thought so. That's why the pack came today (besides Seth, Seth wanted to attend and sat next to my seething poker-faced father) to ensure I didn't do anything stupid. But luckily, they were more focused on the out-of-state vamp guests that sat amongst the hors d'oeuvres, I mean, humans. Knowing Sam, he would watch their every movement till it was over, which gave me space to breathe. Sam also knew I didn't have it in me to really do anything anyway.

But man, the whole thing was pathetic.

You'd think the Cullens would have something better to do with their time. They're loaded with God knows how much cash. Bloodsuckers could've just bought and lived on a whole island, or they could be living under the sea. Sparklefucks, it's better…down where it's wetter… take it from meeeee.

If I didn't have to breathe or eat or shit or blink, I'd be all over the place. Living life like a king, riding on tigers, kicking my feet up, and sipping on a type O Positive Bloody Mary.

Yet here they are, in bumblefuck Washington, chasing rabbits like a bunch of losers. Hell, human hunters I know in the area got 'em beat.

And there the bastard was with his cold hands all over my girl.

She looked so…submissive, and that's not the Bella I knew. My Bella always put me in my place; she never took my crap, and there she was, cowering before him, ready to give her life to him. Literally. How sick is that? Dying for a pretentious demon who could only stomach her cause he liked the way she smelled. She was like his personal Little Tree air freshener. Maybe if she died in the attempt to turn her, he'd hang pieces of her flesh on the rearview mirror in his stupid fucking Volvo.

My stomach rolled again.

I've got to give it to the Cullens; they knew how to make things look convincing. I've seen stuff like this in movies. The flowers, the twinkling lights, the music, they thought of it all. It sure was charming. Still, Bella had nothing to do with it. Usually, the bride was the one who did the planning, but nope, that was taken away from her, too. She didn't even want to be married. Not now, anyway. She wasn't ready, no matter what she said, so she didn't care how it all looked, including herself. I could see the real Bella under the makeup they had painted on her. Her natural blush cut through the thick layer of face powder. I don't think she even cared about how she looked or considered it. I doubt she even looked in the mirror today.

She looked out at the crowd.

And then she looked at me; she looked right at me.

Her chocolate doe eyes were wet and wide. The blush fully drained from her face, and her bottom lip quivered. She didn't look happy seeing me; she was probably pissed that I wasn't in my dumb seat. Or maybe it was something else.

Maybe I was reading too into it, or maybe it was my keen wolf senses, but I saw a glimmer of pleading in her face for a split second, a very quick second. She looked genuinely afraid. Like she wanted me to save her one last time from this mess.

I shook my head once she turned back to the monster. I've got to get out of the mindset of being her savior. She was too far gone, and I was an idiot hanging onto my last thread of hope. A thread that she cut a long time ago.

She made her choice. And it wasn't to live. To be with me. If it was, she wouldn't be standing there; it was as simple as that.

I couldn't look any longer. I couldn't look at her, knowing she would soon be dead. The pain washed over me. I started to tremble with nauseating anger. I stumbled backward, heaving and gagging.

But it's a good thing I've got a strong stomach.

I straightened myself up and felt the sickness settle. I shook off the weakness to save it to feel for later when I'd finally be alone.

That's something I could thank the Cullens for: my strength, ability to heal, and ability to run, to escape all of this quickly and efficiently, not to let the pain totally consume me.

So I walked away.

I went as quietly as possible to avoid anyone in the pack noticing and checking on me.

I refused to make a scene, to let it get the best of me, to prove any of them right. I knew I had to go. There was no other option now.

But I had to actually go. Go and leave everyone and everything behind for good this time. I had to go and not deal with any voices in my head.

I tasted semi-freedom for a month, and they were fine without me around. Redhead was dead. We were doing nothing about the Cullens. Those royal vampires will be appeased once Bella turns. Plus, Sam and I were strained. What the hell did they need me for anyway?

I kept walking, trying to make my significant steps sound small. Maybe it was useless; they probably all heard/smelled/sensed me. Maybe they were happy I was leaving instead of doing something stupid like they were worried about. But I couldn't have them follow me or suspect anything was off.

When I was away, something changed. I realized that leaving was truly possible. The pack was still in my mind, even as I ran further and further away, but there was one day when I had control over it.

I was completely checked out of the conversations, and I repelled the idea of remaining on the sidelines as Bella chose to die. I rejected complacency so much that I felt myself slip away from the pack's hivemind. They didn't notice it, nor did I at first, but once I understood, what was happening became obvious.

I wasn't meant to just be in a pack. I was meant to lead one.

I was able to tune out of their conversations as if it were a TV. At first, it was glitchy and staticky, but then I was finally able to drown it out entirely. I could've been free then if I had decided.

But I kept practicing. I only allowed them to hear specific thoughts of mine and vice versa. It was the most control I'd felt in a long time. And Sam never picked up on it. My mind began to feel like my own again.

It was time to reclaim it, reclaim my place.

There was a good reason for the Alpha's authority. Even a pack as strong as ours wasn't much of a force without a leader. We had to move together, to think together, in order to be effective. And that required the body to have a head. So what if one of us disagreed with Sam? There was nothing anyone could do. No one could dispute his decisions.

Except.

And there it was—a thought I'd never, never wanted to have in the past. But now, with my legs all tied up in strings, I recognized the exception with relief—more than relief, with a fierce joy.

No one could dispute the Alpha's decision—except for me. I hadn't earned anything. But there were things that had been born in me, things that I'd left unclaimed.

I'd never wanted to lead the pack. I didn't want to do it now. I didn't want the responsibility for all our fates resting on my shoulders. Sam was better at that than I would ever be.

Sam wasn't completely wrong for being complacent. Yes, the treaty will break when Bella gets bitten, but what option did we have as a pack? As much as I'd love to kill the Cullens, would it be worth losing a brother or a sister over? I tried to change her mind to no avail. Was I going to fight alone? There was no way. There wasn't a simple solution to this mess; all I could do was escape. I didn't feel like I belonged with the pack anymore; Sam and I felt like repelling magnets now.

And I had not been born to kneel to him.

The bonds fell off my body the second that I fully embraced my birthright as I walked deeper into the forest, further away from the Cullens' crypt. With each step, I felt lighter.

I could feel it gathering in me, both a freedom and also a strange, hollow power.

Hollow because an Alpha's power came from his pack, and I had no pack. For a second, loneliness overwhelmed me.

I had no pack now.

And hopefully, once I phased, it'll finally be quiet. Peaceful. For once.

The forest around me was still and eerie, which was entirely too fitting. I took a deep breath, kicked off my boots, and let my truth truly sink in. I let my Alpha blood do its thing.

I started shifting. The fire trembled down my spine, throwing tight spasms out along my arms and legs. It only took a second. The heat flooded through me, and I felt the silent shimmer that made me something else. I threw my heavy paws against the matted earth and stretched my back in one long, rolling extension.

Phasing was very easy when I was focused like this. I didn't have issues with my temper anymore. Except when it got in the way.

I'd hold onto the anger about Bella and feel it later, let it wreck me. Let myself feel the pain deeply, alone. But now, I had nothing to be angry about.

Because it worked.

Pure, beautiful silence rang in my ears. I waited for one of their voices to scream into my head, but it never came. I was free, and holy hell, did it feel incredible.

The pure joy of it pushed my four legs faster underneath me. I ran as quickly as I possibly could away from it all. I wondered if my shit-eating grin was evident on my wolf features.

I focused on keeping my paws as airborne as possible; they flew across the dirt to not track my prints. I had to make sure they wouldn't find me.

I didn't know if I'd ever come back. I didn't really care, either. I didn't care if anyone would be pissed or hurt. Because I'd only be sticking around for their benefit, not mine, I'd be no use to them anyway, moping around.

Quil and Embry's faces flashed in my mind. My best friends who always had my back and never gave up on me. Man, what would I have done without my boys?

Sam, who was in the worst spot out of all of us. Could I do this to him? The rest of the pack?

My father, who really tried with me. I sure wasn't easy to be around sometimes, but he did his best. I'd be leaving him alone. My heart sank through my ribcage.

Okay, maybe I did care.

But I couldn't let that affect my choice. I couldn't.

How could I live in a small ass town where everyone would be talking about Bella's death when I full well knew the story behind it all? I could no longer look at Charlie in the eye and lie.

I could see it now: Charlie sobbing on the phone—Bella and her husband lost in an accident. A plane crash? That would be hard to fake. Unless the leeches didn't mind killing a bunch of bystanders to authenticate it, and why would they? Maybe a small plane instead. They probably had one of those to spare.

Or would the murderer come home alone, unsuccessful in his attempt to make her one of them? Or not even getting that far. Maybe he'd smashed her like a bag of chips in his drive to get some? Because her life was less important to him than his own pleasure…

The story would be so tragic—Bella lost in a horrible accident. Victim of a mugging gone wrong. Choking to death at dinner. A car accident, like my mom. So common. Happened all the time.

Would he bring her home? Bury her here for Charlie? Closed-casket ceremony, of course. My mom's coffin had been nailed shut.…

I remember how hard it was to swallow that grief, to be strong for my family. I choked on it as a little boy because I had nowhere to put it. I buried it till I was alone. I never showed anyone my pain. I'd go into a closet and scream, trying to reach her. Sobbing, begging my mom to come back. Cursing out God. The loss of her was still heavy on my shoulders, but I carried her with me, always. Some days were heavier than others. That kind of heavy grief can make or break you. So it was better I didn't know anything about Bella. Nah, screw that. I just couldn't handle it.

I was far enough to stop running. I knew the pack would look for me sooner or later, so I had to mask my scent.

The left section of the forest floor turned into ankle-deep mud. Quickly, I sank my paws into it, making sure the mud caked between my paw pads. I then sank myself into the mud and rolled around until my fur was wholly matted down. I even dipped my muzzle for good measure. Fully coated in the sludgy dirt, I took off again.

It might not fully mask my scent, but it should be more muted once I cross a body of water.

I wish I could Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind this shit. Just totally erase the past two years from my brain. Why did Bella Swan ever have to move back here? Why couldn't she just stay with her mother? And why did I have to fall so deeply in love with her?

Just why?

What kind of luck did I have?

Who's luck was it that was actually fucked? Mine or hers?

She didn't even see it as bad luck. She feels lucky to be with him. She thinks they're so pure and perfect. Yet the Cullens are a true sick breed. Bored with their empty decades, with their arts and education and cars. They have too many objects. They have too much time. So they had to get a new toy. One they could dress up and add to their little coven.

I understand they didn't choose this life. But they did choose to drag Bella into it.

I shook my head and continued through the trees. In my giant form, I couldn't sneak past the thorns and branches as easily; I felt them tear into my flesh. Ripping through them as I accelerated, knowing they'd heal in minutes.

Instead of heading North, I made my way down to the Bogachiel River to guide me out of town. I ran alongside it for miles, hopping across both sides over and over to throw off my trail. The rocky path assisted me in hiding my prints.

I'd make my way to the depths of Olympic National Park and surrender to its beauty. I'll let the towering mossy spruces humble me. I'd immerse myself in the mountains. I'd leave everything I've ever known behind me.

I'd head back into Canada, maybe somehow get to Greenland. I'd never get cold, and I wouldn't die if I got shot at. I'd just keep going. I'd put it all behind me.

Bella asked me if I would live the rest of my days in my wolf form. And I told her I would. I guess that's what she was hoping for. I concentrated on my memories of the long wolf months, of letting the humanity bleed out of me until I was more animal than man. Living in the moment, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired, drinking when thirsty, and running—running just to run. Simple desires, simple answers to those desires. Pain came in easily managed forms. The pain of hunger. The pain of cold ice under your paws. The pain of cutting claws when dinner got feisty. Each pain had a simple answer, a clear action to end that pain.

Unlike being human.

But even as a wolf, the thoughts still attack in the lonely hours of the night. When everything is quiet, when the moon illuminates you, acting like a spotlight. A showcase for your weakest moments. A fine display of defeat.

Despite it all, I'll keep going. I'll keep running. And I'll hide like a sick, wounded animal that knows it is going to die. Just like she'd want me to do.