The Quileutes watched in stunned silence as the towering wolf collapsed to its knees. The gathered crowd of supernatural creatures, both fierce and beautiful, stood frozen, their ears filled with the sickening cracks of breaking bones and the soft, anguished whimpers of a girl unprepared for her transformation. Some turned their heads, offering her a moment of privacy as she reverted to fragile human form. For others, the sound of their wolf mate's cries pierced their hearts, a raw and unfamiliar pain. None of them had ever witnessed a shift like this—something unnatural, something monstrous.
The power of the transformation was undeniable, amplified by the few words she had spoken directly into their minds.
We are not the same.
Not after this. Not after her.
Carlisle was the first to break the heavy silence, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "We are leaving," he declared, rallying his clan. He stood from his boys and awaited for the girls to return to their sides.
Moments later, the girls returned, shaken but whole. Their wolf friend's earlier toss had been rougher than anticipated. Alice muttered under her breath about needing to design a clothing line resistant to shredding if future fights were anything like this one.
"Jazz!" Alice's voice rang out, high and sharp, as she dropped to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled as they hovered over his chest, careful but desperate. His ribs were broken—she could feel it—but nothing a little blood wouldn't heal.
"Hey, Blondie…" Emmett rasped, reaching out for Rosalie as she knelt beside him. Despite the pain, his smirk remained intact. "Did you see me out there?"
Even as Rosalie grimaced at his reckless bravado, she couldn't stop herself from softening just a little. She clasped his hand tightly, her eyes scanning their surroundings with unwavering vigilance. He always found time to joke—even now, and even when he was barely holding on. But she wasn't ready to let her guard down just yet. Danger still hung thick in the air.
"Emmett, I'll need to carry you somewhere we can hunt. Hold onto me, my love." Rosalie effortlessly scooped her mate into her arms, adjusting his head to nestle in the crook of her neck.
"Do not get any funny ideas. Not yet…" she teased, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. The soft chuckle she earned from him was reward enough, though his pained grin didn't go unnoticed.
Nearby, Carlisle observed in quiet admiration as the women tended to their broken partners. Each gesture was careful, deliberate—love laced with quiet strength. Even Esme, gentle as always, cradled her mate with the utmost care.
He would need to accompany Graces father into the city to brief the doctors there on medical history and the surgery he'd given to the older man.
On the ground, the young shifter lay unconscious, her body overwhelmed by the pain of reverting back to human form. Her breathing was steady but shallow, her vulnerability stark amidst the chaos.
A raspy voice broke the silence. "Hey."
The sound of footsteps followed—four pairs, careful but deliberate—as Sam emerged from the edge of the woods. He pushed past the shrubs and stepped into the clearing, three others trailing behind him. Jared, Jacob, and Seth flanked their leader, all of them wary, their presence heavy with unspoken tension.
"You can take Grace to my place," Sam offered, his voice steady but his eyes sharp as they scanned the scene. He moved cautiously, aware of the fragile balance in the air. If his own mate had been hurt, he knew he'd be on edge—watching every step, every movement, sizing up even the friendliest of faces.
Sam raised an arm in a subtle gesture to halt his packmates. Jared stopped immediately beside him, his stance solid. Jacob and Seth followed, though their gazes lingered on the vampires, assessing, questioning.
No one moved. The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Esme broke the growing tension, her soft voice a balm against the unease. "I would like that." Her glossy hazel eyes met Sam's dark browns, searching for understanding. Her smile was tight—thin, even—but it was all she could offer. "Please, lead the way. I can carry her."
Sam gave a smooth, single nod, his demeanor calm but deliberate. "Take them to Emily," he said, tipping his head toward Jared, Jacob, and Seth. "I called ahead. She's prepared the spare room for Grace." His gaze flicked to the distant hospital. "I'll have Embry stand guard over her father until the ambulance arrives to take him into the city. They'll have better equipment there—it's for the best."
Esme let out a quiet, relieved sigh. "Thank you, Sam. Grace will be happy to know he's safe when she wakes."
Sam offered no response, only another measured nod. His role here was clear: control, protect, and endure.
With the discussion settled, Jared, Jacob, and Seth relaxed their postures, the tension in their shoulders unwinding as they shifted away from their Alpha's side. Jared stepped forward, his tone polite but direct. "If you'll follow me, Ms. Esme. We'll be there in less than five minutes—half speed." He gestured with a sweeping motion, indicating the path they'd take through the trees.
Esme gave a soft nod of understanding, clutching Grace a little closer.
Without further delay, the boys began to jog, their movements fluid and purposeful. The jog became a sprint, and in a burst of sound and motion, their bodies shed their fragile human forms. With practiced ease, they shifted into their wolf selves, their silhouettes stretching and twisting into massive, powerful beasts.
Sam watched them disappear into the woods, the distant thud of paws against earth fading into the trees. Only then did he let out the breath he'd been holding. His hand slid over the back of his head, fingers pressing against the tension there.
"The fuck have we gotten into…" he muttered under his breath, his words swallowed by the silence of the clearing.
The run to Emily's house was swift, the cold night air biting against Esme's skin as she followed the wolves through the dense forest. Each step was a blur, Grace cradled securely in her arms, her unconscious form oblivious to the world around her.
The forest began to thin, the trees giving way to an open clearing, where the warm glow of Emily's house stood like a beacon. Smoke curled softly from the chimney, and the scent of something savory drifted through the air—a stark contrast to the tension left behind.
By the time Esme reached the porch, the boys had already shifted back, their human forms relaxed and waiting. Jared held the door open, offering a small nod as Esme stepped inside.
The warmth hit her immediately, wrapping around her like a soft blanket. Emily's voice carried from the kitchen, gentle and steady. "Bring her this way," she called, gesturing toward the spare room down the hall. The house smelled of herbs and fresh-baked bread, a comforting blend that eased some of the weight pressing on Esme's shoulders.
Though bringing a vampire into her home might have unsettled most, it didn't seem to faze Emily in the slightest. Her focus was locked on Grace, her calm demeanor radiating a quiet confidence, as if she were born to handle such situations.
"I know we're only meeting today," Emily began, her tone steady and reassuring as she looked to Esme, who still cradled Grace protectively. "But I promise I mean her no harm." Emily gestured toward the spare bedroom, her voice soft but firm. "Lay her on the bed, and I'll assess her injuries. If we don't reset the bones now, they'll heal incorrectly. This is… time-sensitive."
The words stung, though Emily spoke with nothing but compassion. Esme knew it had to be said, but hearing it—the thought of causing Grace more pain—still tightened her chest.
With a curt nod, Esme moved to the bed and gently laid Grace down. The girl groaned, a muffled sound of discomfort as her ice pack shifted away. Heat radiated off her skin, her body burning up, though she couldn't find the strength to protest.
Emily's brow furrowed as she hovered over Grace. "As I thought," she murmured, clinical but kind. "Her ribs, hip, and shoulder are all out of alignment. We need to snap them back into place. I'll guide you through it, but you'll need to provide the strength. It's going to be painful, but it has to be done."
Moving with practiced efficiency, Emily grabbed a piece of cloth and wrapped it securely around a thick chunk of wood. She placed it carefully between Grace's teeth. "This will keep her from biting her tongue," she explained, her voice even and deliberate.
Esme swallowed hard, her golden eyes flicking between Emily and Grace. Emily took a steadying breath and began explaining each step—every movement she would guide Esme through—so there would be no surprises.
The human woman's calm focus was unwavering, her voice a tether of reassurance that helped anchor Esme's nerves.
"Thank you," Esme murmured at last, her voice quiet but genuine. She turned her eyes back to Emily, offering the faintest smile—a moment of shared trust between two women of vastly different worlds. "I'll follow your lead. I… I won't pretend I'm not scared."
Emily gave a soft nod of understanding. "You're not alone in this. Let's help her."
The work was grueling, every snap and shift of Grace's bones accompanied by muffled cries against the cloth in her mouth. Esme's steady hands betrayed the storm raging within her, but she didn't falter—not with Emily guiding her through every painstaking step.
When it was finally over, Grace lay still, her breathing shallow but even, her body swathed in clean blankets. Emily wiped her brow and offered Esme a reassuring nod. "She'll need time, but she's stable now. Rest will do the rest."
Esme lingered for a moment, her hand brushing gently over Grace's forehead. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice raw but grateful.
Emily rested a hand on her shoulder. "Go. She'll be out for a while."
Esme hesitated but nodded, finally stepping away. The weight of the evening seemed to follow her as she made her way to the porch.
The cool night air greeted Esme as she stepped onto the porch, a welcome contrast to the tension that still clung to her. The porch lights cast a soft glow over the wooden floorboards, and the distant hum of crickets filled the quiet.
Sam sat on the edge of the steps, his elbows resting on his knees, staring out into the forest as if searching for answers in the shadows. Jared and Seth leaned against the railing, their postures relaxed but their eyes sharp, scanning the tree line out of habit.
Emily followed a moment later, carrying two mugs of tea. She handed one to Sam, her smile small but kind. "You've done everything you can for now. Grace is strong. Like her father."
Esme nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she moved to join Emily on the porch swing.
"She'll wake up soon. Starving just like the rest of them." Emily said, her voice soft, almost as if she didn't want to break the peace of the early morning.
A faint chuckle escaped Sam, he placed his mug on the railing after a couple more sips. "Emily has been looking after us for some time now. She's the best." He says with that admiring expression as he tipped his head to meet the gaze of his woman and soulmate, Emily.
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The afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a soft golden hue over the room. Esme sat by the window, her gaze drifting between the peaceful surroundings outside and the quiet interior of the house. It had been hours since Grace had been laid down to rest, but the time seemed to stretch on in silence. Jared and Seth had left to recover, and Sam, too, had retired to his bedroom, leaving only Esme and Emily.
Esme was accustomed to waiting, though this time it was different. She couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility for Grace, her young charge. Despite their bond still being fresh, barely a couple of months old, Esme had already found herself fiercely protective of the girl—especially now, as she healed from the trauma of the previous night.
The faintest sound broke the stillness. A door creaked open. Esme's head turned instinctively, her sharp senses immediately honing in on the sound.
Grace appeared in the doorway of the spare room, her movements tentative, as though her body was still adjusting to its restored state. Her posture was cautious, but there was a strength to her presence, something resilient, even despite the weariness still visible in her expression. Her gaze landed on Esme, and she gave a tired but grateful smile.
Esme's heart swelled at the sight, a mixture of relief and possessive tenderness. She stood quickly, her eyes scanning Grace's form, making sure she was steady before closing the distance between them.
"Careful," Esme said softly, her voice laced with concern as she moved closer. "You're still healing. Take it slow." Her hand hovered near Grace's elbow, a silent offer of support.
Grace looked up, her brow furrowing slightly at the protective tone but appreciating it nonetheless. "I'm fine, really. Just a little sore." She winced slightly, flexing her shoulder. "But hey, at least I don't feel like I've been run over by a truck anymore."
Esme gave her a stern, but gentle look. "That's a good start," she said, her voice softening. "But no sudden movements. You don't want to undo what little progress we've made."
Grace chuckled, the sound a bit strained but still warm. "Alright, alright. I'll behave."
Esme hovered over Grace, her presence quiet but solid, as she made sure the young woman was settled comfortably. Grace's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her body still adjusting to the healing, but Esme remained by her side, her protective gaze never leaving her.
The soft sound of clinking dishes from the kitchen broke the silence, and Esme's attention shifted briefly to the source. From the corner of her eye, she saw Emily leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching the two women with an easy, warm smile.
"I didn't want to interrupt," Emily's voice broke the moment softly, her tone light and almost teasing, "but I've got some food ready if the young shifter's appetite is up for it."
Esme looked back at Grace, her gaze lingering on the girl's tired but peaceful expression. The thought of food seemed like the furthest thing from Grace's mind at the moment, but Emily's offer was genuine, and Esme knew the healing process would be a slow one. The body needed nourishment to repair itself, even if Grace didn't feel hungry just yet.
"She hasn't eaten in a while," Esme said, her voice still low, almost protective as she turned back to Emily. "Maybe something light would be better."
Emily nodded, her expression understanding. "Of course. I'll keep it simple, then. But if she's hungry, the offer's there."
Grace's eyes opened slightly, and she gave a small, tired smile. "You don't need to worry about me, Esme. I'm sure I can eat in a bit. Just... let me rest for now." She winced again as she shifted slightly, but Esme's hands were already there, gently guiding her to settle back in.
Esme's lips curled slightly at the edges, a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."
Emily, seeing the tenderness between the two women, gave a knowing look before retreating back into the kitchen. The warm aroma of food soon drifted through the house, a subtle reminder that Grace's recovery would take time, but it was being supported by more than just healing hands.
The quiet of the afternoon stretched on, and Esme continued to keep a careful watch over Grace. Her focus was unwavering, the weight of responsibility for the young shifter still heavy in her chest. The bond between them, though still new, had already become something deep—something that Esme felt protective of with every passing moment.
Emily, sensing the stillness in the room, quietly moved about the house. She glanced at Esme and Grace, noticing how the vampire's gentle vigilance never wavered. Emily couldn't help but smile at the tender, unspoken bond between the two.
"I'll check on Sam," Emily said softly, as she moved to leave the room. "He's been passed out for hours." She gave Esme a warm look. "Let me know if you need anything."
Esme nodded, her eyes never leaving Grace as the young shifter shifted slightly on the couch, her movements still stiff but becoming steadier.
A few minutes passed before Grace, her voice barely above a whisper, broke the silence. "Esme… Thank you."
Esme's gaze softened, and she moved to sit beside her. "There's no need to thank me," she said gently, her hand resting lightly on Grace's. "Just rest. That's what you need now."
Grace gave a small, weary smile, though the exhaustion still clung to her. "Still feels like I've been through hell, though."
Esme's heart twisted at the words, the memory of Grace's pain still fresh in her mind. She knew the girl was strong, but seeing her so vulnerable made Esme's protective instincts flare up even more.
"You've been through a lot," Esme said, her voice firm but tender. "But you'll heal. We'll get there."
Grace met her eyes, the weight of her words sinking in. She didn't respond right away, just gave a small nod, as if still processing everything that had happened.
The quiet that followed was different now, charged with understanding, with trust.
.
.
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Happy Holidays to Everyone! I do hope this Christmas has created new memories for you all~