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The Lonely Wolf

To phase the first time: disorienting. Horrible. Terrifying. Painful. To become a monster: sickening. Strange. Agonizing. Estranging. This we know from Jacob. Must it not have been so much worse to be Sam? He did it all... and he did it all alone. A story in the perspective of the first of our beloved werewolves, Sam Uley. From shortly before the time of his first phase to his marriage to Emily Young.

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37. Chapter 37

Rating 5/5   Word Count 625   Review this Chapter

Emily blanches. “I’m the one who asked her over. It’s my fault.”

“I’ll go after her,” I announce, straightening.

“Don’t. You’re the last person in the world…”

I shake my head. “I know. But I’m also the only one fast enough to catch her.”

“All right,” she decides. “Sam, I love you.”

My heart leaps more than I’d believe possible, objectively. I’m deliriously, nauseatingly happy. But I respond only with, “I love you too.”

“I know. I wish you didn’t have to,” and her voice is sad.

I gasp in a deep breath, wincing. “I don’t. I don’t, Emily.”

She decides not to argue with me. “Okay. Go catch Leah.”



I leave the house, running, my human legs unfamiliar at this incredible speed, pushing them as fast as they’ll go. It’s not like the other form, but I’m still faster than any other human. Certainly I can outrun Leah.

“Leah, wait!” I call after her.

“No. Go the hell away,” she hisses, running faster. I speed up.

“Leah, wait.”

No.” It’s incredibly definite, her refusal, like she’s so certain and unbudgable. Like she’d run a million miles at werewolf pace if it meant she could outrun me, outrun the memory of my lips on her best friend’s face.

“Please? For me.”

She stops short. “Not that there’s anything I haven’t given you already, but of course.” She freezes totally, spinning to face me. She almost stumbles with the sudden motion, and I reach out an arm to catch her. She rights herself. “What do you want?”

I speak very calmly. I can’t hurt her. I can’t. The anger is buzzing through me- at myself, all at myself, but I control the rage. I’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. “I want your word you aren’t going to hurt yourself.”

With pointed nonchalance, she picks a cigarette out of her pocket, lights it carefully, and puffs a round ball of foul smoke directly into my face. “Please. I’m not that pitiful.”

“I think smoking counts as self-destructive,” I point out.

Another puff of smoke. My sensitive nose closes up. “I care, Sam. I care almost as much as you care about me.”

“A lot, then. A real lot.”

She rolls her eyes. I continue.

“Leah… none of us meant you to see that. But maybe…”

She interrupts me. “It’s part of that thing you can’t tell me, isn’t it?”

I freeze. “What?”

She tosses her head sarcastically, bitter mock entering her voice. “You never would have left me. Even though you don’t love me, you’re just not the kind of guy who dumps his pregnant fiancée for her best friend. No one’s that much of a bastard. Hell, even your dad waited till you could walk, and he just disappeared- he didn’t bother fucking with your mom’s sister. So it must have been out of your control.”

I shouldn’t be letting her find out about this, but I can’t bear to shoot it down. What would I say? No, you’re just so loathsome I can’t bear to be around you?

It’s a lie, and a cruel one at that.

“Very perceptive,” I whisper.

“You gonna tell me?”

“No. But you’re right. It’s the same. It’s all the same. And…” this is hard to say. “I never would have left you if I’d had a choice. I loved you… I love you.”

“Yeah. Very nice. You’re not a total jerk.”

Can’t she see this has nothing to do with her opinion of me? “No. Not because of that. Because I really truly loved you, and I’m really truly sorry.”

She turns away, into the forest, and as she disappears her words hang in the air. “Thanks for saying this, Sam. Even though it’s a lie.”