The motel room felt colder after Dorian left, as if he'd taken all the warmth with him. The faint scent of leather and rain lingered in the air, a reminder that he'd been here, sitting only a few feet away from me. I could still feel the weight of his words pressing against my chest. They're hunting you. And they won't stop.
I glanced over at Jacob, who hadn't moved since Dorian left. His jaw was set, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward, staring at the ground like he could crush it with his mind. His chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths, but I could feel the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
"Jake," I said carefully, taking a step toward him. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer right away. His eyes flickered up to meet mine, and for a moment, I wasn't sure if I was looking at Jacob or the wolf. His eyes were hard, sharp, like he was one wrong word away from snapping.
"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice tight. But his body said otherwise. His fists clenched, the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his skin.
I crossed the room slowly, cautious, and lowered myself to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. Neither of us spoke for a moment. I wasn't sure if it was silence or tension filling the air, but it felt like too much of both.
"Jake," I said softly, turning to face him. "Talk to me."
He let out a slow, shuddering breath and dragged a hand down his face. "I don't trust him," he muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. "That guy—Dorian—he walks in here all calm, acts like he's doing us a favor, but everything about him feels off."
"Yeah," I admitted. "I don't trust him either."
Jacob's eyes flicked toward me, his expression softening just a fraction. "Then why'd you let him in?"
I rubbed my hands together, trying to find the words. "I—I don't know," I said, feeling the shame creep up my neck. "He said he was a friend. I knew I shouldn't, but…I don't know, Jake. It's like he knew exactly what to say to get me to open that door."
"Yeah, well, that's how people like him work," Jacob said bitterly. He leaned back, running both hands through his hair before letting out a frustrated grunt. "Smooth-talking, too-cool-for-you vampires who think they're better than everyone else."
He said it with such venom that I almost laughed. Almost.
"Don't worry," I said, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "You're definitely cooler."
That earned me a short, breathy laugh, and for a second, I saw the Jacob I knew—the one who could make me smile even when everything was falling apart. But the moment passed too quickly, and he was back to scanning the room like he was waiting for something to jump out at us.
"What do you think he meant?" I asked quietly. "About them hunting me."
Jacob shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "It's not just you, Bella. They're hunting both of us. I'd bet anything that guy was here to measure us up—see how strong we are, see how close we are to breaking." His eyes narrowed. "They're playing a long game."
I thought about that for a moment, my stomach twisting. It wasn't just one threat. It wasn't just Victoria. There were others—ones we didn't even know about yet.
"Then we need to be ready," I said firmly, my voice steadier than I felt. "We can't keep running, Jake. We have to be ready when they come."
Jacob turned to me, his eyes searching mine, like he was trying to see if I meant it. Slowly, he nodded. "You're right," he said, his voice quieter now, more certain. "We've been on the defensive too long. It's time we push back."
The Next Day
I woke up to the sound of Jacob moving around the room. It wasn't loud—just the quiet rustle of a duffel bag being zipped, the soft thump of boots on the floor—but it was enough to pull me from sleep.
I blinked, groggy, and sat up, rubbing my eyes. The room was dim, the curtains still drawn, letting in only slivers of light. Jacob was crouched by the bed, pulling clothes and supplies into a bag. His shirt was crumpled from sleep, and his hair was wild from tossing and turning.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice rough with sleep.
He glanced up, his expression unreadable. "We need supplies," he said. "I'm going to grab some."
I frowned, instantly awake. "Alone?"
He stood, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. It's faster if I go alone. Less attention."
"Less safe," I countered, crossing my arms. "We're safer together, remember?"
Jacob sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, Bella. But we're out of food, water, first-aid stuff—if something happens, we need to be ready." He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. "I'll be fast. I'll keep my head down. I'll be back before you know it."
I hated it. Every part of me hated it. But I knew he was right. We needed supplies, and the longer we stayed in one place, the more likely we were to be found.
"Be careful," I said, stepping forward. "If you see anything—anything—you get out, okay?"
He gave me a crooked grin, the kind that usually made me feel safe. "Yes, ma'am."
He kissed my forehead, quick and warm, then slipped out the door before I could say anything else.
Later That Afternoon
The motel room felt too quiet. I tried to read one of the old paperbacks left behind on the nightstand, but the words blurred on the page. I kept glancing at the clock. It had been two hours. Two long, heavy hours.
"Come on, Jake," I muttered, glancing at the door. "Where are you?"
I tried to tell myself that he'd be fine. He was strong, fast, and smart. He knew how to stay out of sight. But I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in my gut that something had gone wrong. I tried to push it aside, but it stayed with me, heavier with every passing minute.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I jumped, snatching it up so fast I nearly dropped it.
One new message. No name.
"Still alive, Swan?"
My breath caught in my throat, my fingers tightening around the phone. My pulse pounded in my ears as I stared at the message. It wasn't Jacob. It wasn't anyone I knew.
I typed back, my heart racing:
"Who is this?"
The reply came instantly.
"Someone who sees more than you think."
I stumbled back, my eyes darting around the room like whoever it was might be hiding in the shadows. My hands shook as I typed back.
"Leave me alone."
Three dots appeared, the typing bubble that meant they were replying. It felt like an eternity before the message came through.
"That's cute. But we both know it's too late for that."
I dropped the phone like it burned me, my heart in my throat. My breathing was shallow, my eyes darting to the window. I yanked the curtains open, scanning the street below. Cars passed. People walked by. No one was looking up at me.
No one—except for the man across the street.
He was leaning against a lamppost, his gaze locked on the motel. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could feel his eyes on me, like a chill down my spine. He raised a hand, slow and deliberate, and tipped an invisible hat.
I yanked the curtains shut, stumbling back. My heart felt like it might explode. My phone buzzed again.
"See you soon, Swan."