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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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7. Chapter 7

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 528   Review this Chapter

“I don’t have to, Sam. You know I don’t. Besides, the proof is right there in your guilty little smile.”

I carefully wipe the guilty little smile off my face. I don’t want his assumptions, and I absolutely don’t want to discuss this with him. It’s making me furious, the too calm way he looks at me, like of course I’m a werewolf, no big deal, totally normal, let’s just have a nice chat about it sonny and everything will be better…

Red washes over my eyes. I feel anger zip down my spine, a lack of control spiraling down me, fury, rage, hate.

Loathing. Less than me, this whole world is less than me, conspiring against me, evil, and I will defeat it. I will kill it. I will tear it to shreds and-

“Quil, get out.”

I don’t have to tell him twice. The old man scrambles out of the chair and, his eyes still focused calmly on me, rushes to the door. He watches me as he runs outside.

My spine snaps back, my head inclining, my limbs flying out at all angles, expanding, changing, the fur exploding from some mysterious place beneath my skin.

Instantly, I refuse it. There is barely enough time for the furious wolf to swipe at Leah’s grandmother’s lamp on the table before I recognize this fury is irrational and force myself calm, find my human form and become it.

Old Quil reenters. “Hello, Sam. I proved it.”

“That you did.”

“So, as I was saying before you turned into a large animal, the cold ones are real too. The Cullens are the reason you are phasing.”

“When can I take them down?”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?” Does he think he can stop me? This old man, not a werewolf, nothing in particular. Just a human. Soft flesh, easy for long claws and teeth to tear, to kill…

“Not you may not, Sam. You can’t. They’ll destroy you. There’s a treaty. If the bloodsuckers don’t bite any humans, we swear not to begin the war as long as they stay off our land.”

“Oh.” Well, that was true. I remembered the stories. One werewolf probably couldn’t single-handedly defeat seven vampires.

Shame. Be fun to rip people to pieces.

I’m not allowed to do it to humans (because I am one), but the urge is there. Even stronger with them. The mere thought of a vampire makes me eager to kill. And I can not. I know I am not supposed to kill anyone.

“I have more to tell you, when you’re ready.”

“I am.”

“You may… imprint.”

“What’s that?” I’ve never heard that word before.

“It is rare. But sometimes werewolves… the first time you see her, after you phase, you imprint upon her.”

“Who is this her?”

“The one you’re meant to be with. And so, Sam Uley, stay away from Leah. You need to cut her losses now. Before you hurt her. Before you fall irreplaceably and unnaturally in love with someone else.”