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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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9. Chapter 9

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“Sam, can’t you just tell me?” she asks. It is the pleading tone in her voice that gets to me. We’ve been arguing all morning, since I found out she knew I hadn’t been home any of the nights last week.

“No, Leah. I can’t.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you!” I am trying desperately not to get angry. I can’t afford to let the rage consume me, as it has in the past weeks of patrols.

“Please, please, please. I’m begging you, Sam. Please tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s wrong? I want to help you, Sam.”

“No one can help me,” I whisper. “There’s no help for me now.”

Her eyes grow cold and distant. “Why? Do you not want me to be a part of your life?”

I catch her wrists with my hands and spin her around to face me. My eyes bore into hers, and her lashes flutter closed. “I always want you, Leah. I love you. Never doubt that.”

“How can I not? Don’t you trust me?”

“Leah, I can’t tell you. I want to, more than anything else in the world… but I’m not allowed to. It’s not my decision to make. It isn’t my secret to share.”

Angrily, she breaks away and turns from me. “How can it not be, when it’s done so much to you? How am I supposed to… you’re changing, Sam. You’re not… you’re not the man I know.”

I wince. Does she blame me for these changes? I can’t help it. I’d do anything to be her Sam again. “I’m sorry. I don’t… if you want… if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I would understand.”

She whirls around, glaring. “Sam Uley, do you dare? I’m not giving up on you that easily. No, you’re not the same. But I still love you. And I’m stubborn enough that I won’t give in, no matter what. I love you,” she says, and it sounds like an accusation. “I love you,” an argument, “I love you,” a refutation.

“Good.” Before she can protest, I kiss her. “I love you, Leah. I always will. This can’t change that.”

Off-topic, she says, “Sam, do you have a fever?”


“You feel very warm. Take your temperature.”

I can’t. I know that it will be way too high, dangerously so, and I can’t go to the doctor. I can’t let anyone know about this. “I can’t.”

She sighs. “Back to this again?”


She turns from me again, and leaves the room.

“Leah?” I offer. It is inadequate, but I have to say it nonetheless. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I won’t give up, Leah. I’m going to try the best I can to stay the same.”

“And I’m not giving up either. I’m going to be here for you, whether you like it or not. We can make it work.”

“Yes, we can.”

I am resolved. I feel a smile drift across my face. Leah returns the grin and leaves for work.