CHAPTER TEN

Hunter hunted

Sam and his pack stepped forward; their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed threat. The air was heavy with tension, the faint scent of rain lingering as the sky darkened further. Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating their grim faces as they closed the distance between us. Sam led the group, his packmates flanking him, their strides purposeful and their gazes fixed. When he stopped about twenty meters away, his voice was cold and firm, cutting through the silence.

"Stay away from Leah, Swan. The last thing we need is you hurting her."

I couldn't help but laugh, a sharp, sarcastic sound that echoed across the road. "Hurting her? That's rich coming from you, Sam. Because you would know all about hurting her, right?" My tone was biting, my words deliberate. "Who the hell died and made you king? Seriously, where do you get the nerve to tell me what I can or can't do with my friends?"

One of the boys on Sam's left—a tall, broad-shouldered guy—started trembling. His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing erratic, the aggression radiating off him like heat. I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What's with him? Anger issues much?"

Sam shot the boy a sharp look and raised a hand to silence him. The boy stilled, though his body continued to shake, the tension barely contained.

Sam's gaze returned to me, and his voice was steady, though a hint of frustration seeped through. "We don't even know what you are. But I can smell it—you're not human. And you're friends with the vampires. We can't allow you to put Leah in danger like that. Not until we know what you are and whether you pose a threat to the reservation."

I chuckled again, shaking my head in disbelief. "Really, Sammy? That's your angle? 'Not human'? Last I checked, you lot aren't exactly human either, yet here you are, acting like you're some moral authority. And let's be honest—this isn't about me being 'not human.' I've been coming to the reservation for weeks, and it was never an issue until now. Let me guess, it's because I'm seeing Leah, right?"

Sam's jaw tightened, but I didn't let up. "And what's with the 'we' crap? Grow a pair and say what you really mean. You don't want Leah moving on. Even though you've supposedly moved on yourself, it eats at you to see her happy without you. Stop hiding behind duty and dragging these poor idiots into your personal vendetta. Be a man and admit you're not over her."

Sam's face hardened; his jaw clenched as he processed my words. I knew it wasn't true—he was engaged to Leah's cousin, Emily after all—but the jab hit its mark. I saw it in the flicker of doubt that crossed Sam's face, the slight shift in his stance. He didn't respond immediately, his expression hardening as he tried to regain control. But he wasn't quick enough to notice the growing instability in his volatile packmate.

The boy's trembling turned to shaking, his body convulsing as he hunched over with a guttural growl. A sickening tearing sound followed, and in the blink of an eye, the boy was gone—replaced by a massive gray wolf, fur bristling and teeth bared.

"Paul, no!" Sam shouted; his voice laced with urgency.

But Paul was beyond reasoning. The wolf let out a savage snarl and crouched low, ready to pounce. I tilted my head slightly, an amused smirk tugging at my lips. How quaint, I thought. If this had happened a few weeks ago, I might've been concerned. Now? It was almost laughable.

Paul lunged at breakneck speed, but to me, it was like watching a slow-motion replay. I sidestepped him lazily, my movements fluid and unhurried. He skidded to a stop, growling as he turned to face me again. This time, he leaped with more force, his massive form cutting through the air.

I caught him by the neck mid-air, his momentum nearly nonexistent in my grip. His claws flailed, his growls turning frantic as he struggled against me. My fingers tightened, not enough to harm, but enough to remind him of the power gap between us.

"Really, Paul?" I muttered, my voice low and calm. "This is your big move? Oh well, allow me to retort."

I made a fist with my free hand, channeling energy as the elements around me responded. Lightning crackled above, thunder rolling ominously as energy coalesced around my hand. Paul's wolf eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw fear replace fury.

Without hesitation, I drove my charged fist into his skull, the impact echoing like a thunderclap. Paul yelped in pain as his massive body was launched into the air, hurtling nearly a hundred feet before crashing into a tree with a sickening thud. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, the faint smell of burnt fur lingering in the air.

"Yeah," I said casually, flexing my fist. "You're not that guy, buddy."

The remaining packmate stood frozen, his mouth agape, while Sam's expression darkened, worry etched into his features.

I turned to Sam, my tone matter-of-fact. "Relax, Sammy. He's still alive. Though, I doubt he'll be chewing solid food for a while. Consider this a warning: the next time any of you attack me without provocation, I won't hold back."

Sam's calculating gaze never left mine, but he remained silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

I continued, my voice steady but sharp. "Next time you see something you don't understand, maybe try asking questions instead of making stupid assumptions. I'm not a threat to you, or I wasn't until you pulled this crap. This could've been resolved with a simple conversation. An invitation to the reservation to talk, maybe. But no, you had to play the tough guy, and now your dumbass packmate is out cold, and you've pissed off a potential ally."

Sam's lips tightened into a thin line, his silence speaking volumes.

"Well," I said, breaking the heavy silence. "This has been enlightening. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going home. And for the record, I'm not going to stop seeing Leah. If you even think about sabotaging my friendship with her, I swear, I'll make what happened to Paul look like a spa day massage."

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and strode back to my car, my steps unhurried and confident. Sliding into the driver's seat, I started the engine and drove off, the tension of the encounter left behind in the rearview mirror.

The drive home was swift, my car's engine purring smoothly as if it could sense my restless energy. The night had fully embraced Forks by the time I arrived, a heavy darkness draping the town in silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. Streetlights cast pale, uneven pools of light on the damp pavement, and my headlights sliced through the gloom as I pulled into the driveway.

I killed the engine and stepped out, the cool air blowing against my skin. The house was eerily quiet as I approached, the kind of silence that prickled at the edges of your nerves. Inside, the usual comforting hum of the television or the sound of Dad's easy breathing was absent. Instead, the living room was dimly lit by the flickering glow of the TV, casting shifting shadows on the walls.

There he was, my dad, sitting on the couch, his broad shoulders slumped in a way that made him look smaller than he was. His eyes were glued to the screen, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, lost in some unseen abyss. The grief etched into his face stopped me in my tracks. I had never seen him like this—so defeated, so broken.

"Dad?" I called softly, stepping toward him.

He didn't react, his gaze remaining fixed, distant. My stomach tightened with unease as I moved closer, lowering myself onto the couch beside him. I tried again, my voice softer but laced with concern. "Dad… what's wrong?"

It took a moment, but he finally turned to look at me. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his voice, when he spoke, was hoarse, laden with pain.

"Dory," he murmured, his tone cracking under the weight of his emotions. "Ever since you and Bella were born, I've tried so damn hard to do right by you both. I know I haven't been perfect, but I did my best. I really did."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Charlie wasn't one for grand emotional declarations, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and raw—shook me to my core. I placed a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently as I tried to steady him.

"Dad," I said, my voice filled with as much reassurance as I could muster, "you're a great dad. You've always been there for us. You've done more for us than you realize."

He exhaled a shuddering breath, his gaze dropping as he blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears. "It's… it's just the things Bella said."

The words ignited something in me, a slow-burning anger that simmered hotter with every second. My hands clenched into fists, and I felt my jaw tighten. Bella. What the hell had she said to him? My mind raced, connecting the dots faster than I wanted. She knew how much dad's relationship with Mom haunted him, how deeply he carried that burden. And yet, she'd crossed that line, said something cruel enough to cut him open like this.

My voice came out low, almost a growl. "Where is she?"

Charlie's face softened with worry, his hand reaching out to grasp my arm. "Dorian, please. Don't do anything stupid, alright? Just… let it go."

But I couldn't. Not after seeing him like this. Not after seeing our dad—our rock—brought so low. I stood abruptly, pulling out my phone and dialing Carlisle's number. The call connected almost instantly, his calm, measured voice greeting me.

"Dorian, good evening."

"Carlisle," I said evenly, though my voice betrayed the storm building beneath the surface, "is Bella there?"

There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to set my nerves on edge. When he finally spoke, his tone was cautious. "Yes… but there's a problem."

My stomach twisted. "What's going on?"

Carlisle hesitated again before answering, his words carefully measured. "It's better if you come here and hear it in person."

That was all I needed. "I'm on my way," I said, ending the call without waiting for a response.

I turned back to Charlie, his worried eyes following me. "I'll be back soon, Dad. I promise."

Grabbing my keys, I stepped out into the cold night, my pulse hammering in my ears. Sliding into the driver's seat, I reversed out of the driveway, aligning the car with the road. My foot hit the gas hard, and the Civic roared to life, the turbo growling as I sped toward the Cullens' house. The engine's rumble filled the cabin, a perfect match for the fury coursing through my veins.

By the time I reached the massive Cullen residence, my anger had boiled over, threatening to spill out the moment I stepped through their door.

I parked the car with precision, cutting the engine and stepping out. The cool night air did little to calm the fire burning inside me. Taking a deep breath, I walked toward the house, my steps deliberate but heavy with tension.

The moment I entered, my eyes locked onto her. Bella. She was standing behind Edward, her arms crossed, her shoulders hunched as though she were trying to disappear. The guilt was written all over her face, a stark contrast to Edward's protective stance in front of her.

And just like that, my restraint snapped. Seeing her cower, seeing her shrink back like a child caught in the act, only fueled my anger. My voice came out low and steady, but the room practically vibrated with the force of my rage.

The words exploded from me like a clap of thunder. "What the hell, Bella?!" My voice ricocheted off the high ceilings of the Cullen home, making the air itself seem heavier. "What on God's green earth possessed you to say that to Charlie? Do you have any idea what kind of state he's in right now?"

Bella's wide, tear-filled eyes met mine, her face crumpling as the weight of my words hit her. Her shoulders sagged, and the tears began to spill over. She buried her face in her hands, her sobs soft but raw.

Edward, ever the unflinching shield, stepped forward, placing a protective arm around her. His golden eyes locked onto mine, a sharpness in his gaze that could have sliced through steel. "Dorian," he began, his voice icy but controlled, "please stop shouting. There's more to this than you know, and if you'd just listen, I'll explain."

I took a deep breath, my anger simmering dangerously close to boiling over. My hands clenched at my sides as I forced myself to nod. "Fine. Then talk."

Edward's calm demeanor didn't falter as he began. "We were playing baseball earlier when three vampires entered the clearing. At first, they seemed curious, but then one of them caught Bella's scent." His jaw tightened, and his voice dropped an octave, laced with restrained fury. "His name is James—a tracker. And now he's decided to hunt her."

My gaze flickered to Bella, who paled further at Edward's words, her sobs turning to shallow breaths of fear.

Edward continued, his frustration seeping through his otherwise measured tone. "James is not just dangerous; he's obsessive and relentless. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. And he's not alone. He has a partner—Victoria—who's just as bloodthirsty. We've been doing everything we can to protect Bella and plan a way out of this, but…" He hesitated, a rare crack in his composure. "She was overwhelmed. She… said things to Charlie in a moment of fear, in a bid to protect him."

The tension in the room was suffocating as Edward gestured to the corner, where a tall, olive-skinned vampire stood. His posture was relaxed, his gaze aloof. "The third vampire, Laurent, came to us offering help. He claims he isn't aligned with James or Victoria. He's here out of respect, he gave us the information on James, I couldn't read his mind."

Laurent inclined his head slightly, meeting my glare with a smugness that set my teeth on edge. His dark eyes, glittering with centuries of arrogance, assessed me as though I were an insect barely worth acknowledging.

That look was all it took to snap the fragile thread of my patience. I strode toward him, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "You. Start talking. Where is James?"

Laurent's lips curled into a faint smirk, and he shifted his attention to Carlisle, utterly dismissing me. "Carlisle," he said, his tone as smooth as silk but dripping with condescension, "I came here in good faith, but you need to control your pets. I'll speak with you out of respect, but I won't be insulted by a mere human."

The words struck a match to the inferno inside me. In a flash, I closed the distance between us, my hand clamping around his throat. His eyes widened in shock as I lifted him clean off the ground, his feet dangling uselessly.

"Either you tell me where James is, or I skull fuck it out of your brain," I growled, my voice vibrating with the raw power coursing through me. Black cracks spiderwebbed across Laurent's marble-like skin as I squeezed, his struggles futile against my grip.

"Dorian!" Esme's voice rang out, sharp and disapproving. "Language!"

I chuckled darkly, loosening my grip just enough to speak. "I'll ask you one more time, vampire," I said, my voice laced with venom. "Where. Is. James?"

Laurent's response was a final act of defiance—a venomous spit aimed directly at my face. It landed with a sickening wetness, but all it did was stoke the fire burning in my chest.

With a flick of my wrist, I released him—but not entirely. Using my telekinesis, I suspended him mid-air, his body twisting as he tried in vain to free himself. The room's atmosphere shifted; even the Cullens looked taken aback. Edward's protective stance faltered, and Emmett's playful smirk had been replaced with a rare seriousness.

I tightened my mental grip on Laurent, watching as his body convulsed under the pressure of my power. His scream tore through the room, raw and primal, echoing off the walls like the wail of a banshee.

Reaching out with my mind, I prepared to extract the information I needed. Unlike the gentle, feather-light touch I usually employed when reading thoughts, this was going to be brutal—sharp as a blade, invasive and unrelenting. I plunged into Laurent's mind, slicing through his defenses with precision.

Laurent thrashed wildly, his cries of pain growing louder as I delved deeper into his memories. Flashes of James's face appeared—feral, cunning, and terrifyingly strong. I saw glimpses of his hunts, the way he toyed with his prey before delivering the final blow. And then, something deeper emerged. James wasn't just a tracker; he was a monster. Laurent's memories painted him as a predator unlike any other—a vampire who had singlehandedly annihilated entire covens with a cold, calculated efficiency.

"What the hell is he?" I muttered, my grip on Laurent's mind unwavering.

When I finally withdrew, Laurent's body crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. He gasped for air, his chest heaving as if he were still alive.

The room was silent, the only sound the faint hum of tension lingering in the air. I turned to the Cullens, my voice steady but resolute. "James isn't just another vampire. He's something else entirely. And I'm going to find out exactly what he is—and stop him."

Jasper broke the silence that had fallen over the room, his voice calm but sharp. "Do you have a plan?"

The other Cullens shifted their attention to me, their golden eyes intent as they waited for my response. The room was heavy with anticipation, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

"I do," I said with quiet determination, meeting Jasper's penetrating gaze. "But listen carefully—if we go after him directly, even with decoys or using Bella's scent, he'll know. James is too clever for that. This needs to end tonight, and my plan will work, but only if all of you stay away from the fight."

Jasper frowned; his suspicion evident. "You're asking us to stay out of it? You'll have to explain more than that."

I shook my head, a faint, grim smile tugging at my lips. "You'll see soon enough. For now, I need everyone to leave this room—everyone except Carlisle and Bella."

The Cullens exchanged uncertain glances, but after a moment, they reluctantly filed out of the room. Alice lingered by the door, her expression unreadable, before vanishing into the hallway.

Turning to Carlisle, I stepped closer, my voice low but steady. "Carlisle, I need a vial of Bella's blood. And Bella…" I shifted my gaze to her. "I'm going to need your hoodie."

Bella blinked in surprise, but without hesitation, she pulled off her hoodie and handed it to me. I grabbed her woolen hat as well, tucking it into my pocket. As I slipped on the hoodie, its snug fit stretched tightly across my shoulders, and I could feel Bella's scent clinging to the fabric like an invisible aura.

Carlisle had already moved swiftly to his office, returning moments later with a syringe and a small glass vial. "This is risky," he said as he began drawing blood from Bella's arm with practiced precision. "Are you certain you don't need backup? I can tolerate Bella's scent; I'll fight alongside you if it comes to that."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Thank you, Carlisle, but no. We can't wait for James to make the first move and put everyone in danger. Bella is my sister, and all of you…" My voice softened slightly. "You're my family. And I protect my family."

Carlisle's golden eyes softened with understanding. "Then what do you need us to do?"

"Keep an eye on Bella and Charlie," I replied firmly. "Make sure no one gets past me to them."

Carlisle nodded, handing me the filled vial. "Do you have a plan of attack?"

I smirked faintly. "I do have a plan—attack."

From the next room, Alice's voice drifted in, calm yet tinged with uncertainty. "I tried to see how this ends, Dorian, but I can't. The future is blank, as if it's being deliberately hidden."

"Interesting," I muttered to myself. With no further delay, I blitzed out of the house, moving past the lawn and into the dense, shadowy forest.

The woods were alive with the sounds of nature—chirping crickets, the rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze, and the distant hoot of an owl. I slowed my pace slightly, breaking the syringe and smearing Bella's blood across my arms and chest. The sharp, coppery scent enveloped me, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest.

I steadied my breathing, slowing my heart rate until it mimicked that of a normal human's. Then I began jogging at an easy, deliberate pace, the rhythm of my steps echoing faintly against the forest floor.

It didn't take long. The sounds came first—branches snapping, leaves crunching, the distinct, rapid approach of something inhuman. Two figures burst into the clearing at breakneck speed.

James emerged first; his average build deceptively unremarkable save for the feral intensity in his wild eyes. His expression shifted the moment he caught my scent, a mix of unbridled hunger and raw excitement overtaking his features.

Victoria followed close behind, her fiery red hair glowing like embers in the moonlight. Her lips curled into a cautious smile, but there was a flicker of unease in her gaze as she surveyed me.

I stopped in my tracks, allowing James's gaze to lock onto mine. Slowly, I pulled off Bella's hoodie, revealing my face. A smirk spread across my lips. "Oh granny, what big teeth you have," I said, my voice mocking, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

James's brow furrowed briefly in confusion, but it melted into a grin as sharp as a blade. "What do we have here?" he sneered, his voice low and predatory. "You're offering yourself up? Aren't you even going to put up a fight?"

I took a single step forward; my movements deliberate and calm. "I don't care who you are, or why you are here, hunting my sister," I said, my voice ringing with conviction, "was the worst mistake you've ever made. It'll also be your last."

James's laughter echoed through the clearing, dark and mocking. Victoria remained quiet, her sharp eyes scanning me with wary suspicion. There was an unnatural tension in the air, like the calm before a devastating storm.