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Hell Hath No Fury

Summary:
Another one shot, again from a character who spends a lot of time in the background.


Notes:
Disclaimer: credit to Stephenie Meyer for characters I've done Sam's perspective, now here is Leah's!


1. A Woman Scorned

Rating 5/5   Word Count 753   Review this Chapter

My heart was slowly breaking. The scene unfolding before me was more than I could take, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but I knew no-one would hear me. Why was this happening? Her raven hair fluttered in the breeze, catching in the blossom surrounding their seat. His smile, the one I was so in love with, was given to another woman and yet I felt it belonged to me; forever.

His hands were entwined with hers, intricate patterns weaving through the air telling their tale of undying love. Her gaze never faltered, her eyes could never look at another man in the same way, for he had imprinted on his one true love and it would never be me. What we had was special, but their relationship is eternal. The blossom was in full bloom, framing her face in delicate pink flowers and the scent was beautiful, heart breaking.

I could bare it no longer. The dream ended, taking my longing with it but not the memories, those always stayed with me. The gorgeous summer days lighting the world around us, sun beams dancing through the trees, breaking the shadows and gloom; illuminating my life.

I woke, sweating and panting, and then the tears flowed. I could not control them and each morning I spoke to my mother with stained red cheeks, puffy eyes and a broken heart.

That was not before the anger attacked me.

Ripping open the old wound savagely. I morphed often and frequently, sometimes interrupting the mind ramblings of Sam and Jacob.

I could never talk to Sam like this, unless it was on pack authority. Instead I allowed a steady stream of curses to flow through my thoughts, open for all to hear and allowing Sam to fully understand the sting of his rejection and the impact it had on my life. He didn’t know the half of it.

He was a bastard. A bastard who broke my heart. Sometimes I wished I could morph and just attack him, let him find out exactly how I feel every day I see them together.

He didn’t realise the torture he put me through. I was foolish enough to believe that he could really love me, and deep inside I still thought about it. I had to move on now or so Seth told me, the vengeance could be done with little effort on my part, the swearing helped and for some reason I hoped he could feel it, though had we still been together I would have done anything to stop him being hurt.

What would Seth know about these sorts of emotions? The knot in the pit of my stomach which tightened every time I saw them embracing, the nausea when they kissed, and the jealous poison threatening to overpower me when I heard Sam’s thoughts.

Things changed.

Of course, I loved her as much as before this happened, nothing could ever stop that. Our families were so close; it would tear them apart as much as it had divided us. We tried not to make the split so obvious after all I saw them nearly every day.

I needed someone to talk to. Of course being around the whole pack all day was a huge amount of pressure, it felt like they were pushing down on all sides until I was ready to snap. The times Sam had to physically restrain me from morphing when I grew so angry, not with them but with myself.

I hated to self pity, knew it was destructive and dangerous for other people to be around me but when I had to support mum, grieve for dad and then cope with this it became too much. I ended evenings morphing and running for miles until even the stars were blocked out from the thick canopies. I never returned until the sun came up, grabbing no more than three hours sleep; the nightmare haunted me.

It will stay with me for the rest of my life, what I often called my curse. I fell for he wrong guy. I thought he was The One, and the fall was the hardest part. From flying so high with the person I loved, to crashing the ground, on impact I was irate, ready for a fight, desolate. Billy was the only person who spoke to me about it; just once. He said there was little I could do but forget and forgive.

Easier said than done. I am living the nightmare.

My love is gone, locked away, he took the key.