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I'm nothing but a monster burning in a hell that only exists in my head. There's no hope left until one harmless glance chances logic and binds two eternal enemies together in a twist of fate. Can the escape from this hell be found in an infuriating dimpled grin? Or is this another dark, dirty trick of my own mind? A forbidden passion, heat, and intense anger—this is no fairytale.

[Disclaimer: Monster is an originally plotted fic. The ideas within this fic are not to be copied in any way, shape, or form—I have not given my consent to any manner of copying. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. All canon concepts and characters are the property of the Twilight Saga's author, Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. Similarities are for the sole use of fan fiction, and no profit has been or will be benefited from the posting of this fic.] Emerging Swan Award 2012, nominated into Fandom Choice Awards.

31. Questionable

Rating 0/5   Word Count 2821   Review this Chapter

"There's a drumming noise inside my head
That starts when you're around

I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an almighty sound." - Florence and The Machine.

Chapter Thirty One


Night falls, dawn rises. I lay, trapped under the weight of my blankets, breathing. Only breathing.

Just barely.

The crushing weight of his absence has returned, only it's lighter now. Bearable. He is real, and more than just a distant memory. He is so close; close enough to touch, to feel, to touch. . .

I sit up abruptly, the movement bringing a rush of blood that awakens me instantly. I've broken out in a sweat; a small drop slides down my neck, racing down my back. My scattered thoughts seem to have been a little too real, leaking into my dreams and corrupting them.

I've lived through teenage life without having any problems with my hormones, other than my freakish growth spurt. No need to start having them now. Even if he probably is so much more attractive to think about without the clothes. . .


"Damn." I breathe the word to myself, moving onto my feet. I need to get myself moving, before my thoughts are allowed to roam farther. My hands slide through my hair, breaking the tangles loose. There is no need to stop for clothes; I've been ready to go for hours now, just waiting for the sun to shine.

I slip through the hall silently, my gaze focused straight ahead. Even the house that I have spent thirteen years—minus two absent years—living in seems so foreign to me. My fingers brush along the wall, taking in the dusty scent. Everything is right in front of me, yet it feels like it's so far away.

The stairs are much steeper than I remember them to be, but they are no obstacle. I listen to the soft thud of my feet hitting on each roughly carved step. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and I'm down at the bottom. My feet still don't stop. I swerve around the corner, my hand catching the wall as if it's the only way to stop myself.

I don't expect the kitchen to be empty, but I still find my body tensing as I catch a whiff of the gathered musky scents. There are only two of them here—Sam and Nicole—along with Emily, Sam's new girl-thing who I haven't forgotten. Their presence is almost a set back; it pulls me back into the reality of how things really are.

Emily's tinkle of laughter trails off, her eyes finding me the instant I round the corner. She takes in my frozen form; I watch her wary gaze in the corner of my eye. She frowns, the movement pulling down the torn, deformed side of her face. Silence drowns the laughter out, as if my presence has sucked the life out of the room.

The people—my family—don't say anything. They don't have to. I study the disgust openly etched on Nicole's face as she takes in the sight of me. She leans away from the table, cringing into her chair. Sam clears his throat, shooting Nicole a warning look while pushing his plate stacked with syrup-soaked pancakes away from him. His gaze travels over to Emily as he stands, pushing his chair back. The squeak of the chair's legs on the wooden floor is the only sound made in those few minutes.

Sam shuffles over to Emily, keeping his back to me. He clamps his hand over a dishtowel that hangs loosely on the oven handle and runs it over his hands. His head turns to the side as Emily looks his way. They stare at each other for a long moment, neither of them speaking.

Nicole is the one to break the silence. She sighs as she, too, stands, collecting the breakfast dishes and moving to run them under the sink. "It's your turn to run patrol, Jordan, as you missed yours yesterday."

I flex my fingers, glancing from one turned back to another. Neither of them even glance my way. I exhale sharply and shake my head. Clearly, I have been dismissed.

No point in hanging around here.

The door is in my way, blocking my path as I move to escape the suffocation the house brings. I bash straight through it, not even minding the rain of splinters. An icy wind pierces through my skin, and the cold of it triggers the sudden need to change. I let out a sudden breath through my clenched teeth, summoning the ball of heat from the center of my body as I throw myself off the porch. The familiar fire of the change floods my veins, twisting and stretching and pulling me apart. I land on paws instead of hands and feet and take off, just like that.

Swirls of green and brown whip by, oblivious to the rain as it seeps into my fur. My senses stretch out as I make my way out to the treaty line. As I start to focus, I realize that oddly, no other wolf is out with me. This isn't a patrol; this is punishment.

Once again, I can't bring myself to give a damn.

My loyalty to my pack hasn't wavered. I continue through the forest, calculating just how to sweep across the entire side of the border on a lone wolf patrol. It only takes seconds for my thoughts to wander back to what I really need to be working out. My thoughts start to scatter, jumping from one side of my mind to another, while the forest around me turns into a mixture of scents and sounds.

Do I push it away, like everything else?

Or do I go against everything I've known, let go of myself, and take the chance?

Do I commit myself to my tribe or a possible mistake?

My family, or him?

My brain or my guts?

Dead ends or second chances?

Duty or fate?

Who you think you are or who you can be?

A snarl tears its way up my throat and through my bared teeth. I lunge forward, my paws stretching out and slashing through the air. My head tosses wildly as I gnash my teeth together, kicking and slashing and throwing my weight around. The heat of my body rises, reaching its breaking point. I'm ready to explode, until I hear…whistling?

The sound is rhythmic yet sharp, cutting through the air and straight into my ears. I raise my head, my body locking down. A shiver races down my spine in recognition.

I swing my head from side to side and huff, shouldering through the forest. I'm only jogging at first, but my speed builds as some sort of emotion I've never felt before swells inside of me. Soon, anticipation floods me, and I am racing through the forest at top speed, the wind whipping across my face, the distance disappearing behind me.

His presence brings a whole new sensation. My paws seem to be sweeping over the air, my body suddenly weightless. A shock of electricity is shot into my veins, sending a new ripple of shudders throughout my body. I can't see him yet, but his scent—that sweet, stomach-knotting scent of his—swarms into my nostrils.

The trees start to thin and the whistling grows louder. The rush of the river is the only sound with the night-blackened forest. I let out a breath, the air clouding with white as it swirls away from me. I lean forward, placing one paw before the other, my shoulders rolling with each movement. I turn my senses on high alert just as I break through the trees, revealing myself. My eyes scan across the dense green foliage, landing on the seemingly glowing white form just across the river.

Emmett is there, moving leisurely through the trees. His shirt is in his hand, twirling through the air. My eyes lock on the perfectly sculpted shape of each muscle, unable to look away. Emmett knows I'm here—he stops to drop down onto the river's bank, standing just across the line away from me. Water droplets shine in his thick hair, caught in the moonlight as they drizzle down from the sky. One droplet lands on his broad shoulder, sliding down his neck and chest before disappearing in his exposed abs.

He takes a moment, stopping to stare down at the water, his dimples popping up as he grins to himself. I watch his golden eyes shine as he raises his gaze, draping his shirt across his arm. His biceps flex as he speaks. "Like what you see?"

It's not that I don't—because like hell I don't like what I see—but in this situation, it isn't right to admit it. I respond with a raise of my head, my stance shifting as I move toward him, feeling my heart flutter in a wolf's body. I mirror his stance, unable to drop my stare.

Emmett flashes a bright smile. He leans forward, tilting his head to the side. "See something special, do you?"

I step closer again, not moving my gaze. I can't answer again as the same pull draws me in, bringing me closer. One paw moves before the other, silently working through the river until I am standing face to face with him. My gaze settles on him. I'm unable to control myself; my mind and body suddenly drift away from the world.

Emmett's eyes squint playfully. He raises his hand, reaching out to close what used to be a large amount of distance between us. His touch sends a jolt of fire through me, the heat dizzying. Naturally, my body tenses, even though the fire feels good. A strangled growl slips through my teeth. The alarms start to ring in my ears, telling me to fight, to kill, but the intensity of his stare hushes it all.

The ringing slowly shifts into a dull hum. My head tips to one side, my eyes taking in the shape of him while the sensation of the heat causes my head to spin. Or is it his scent that makes my head spin? Or maybe the coolness of his breath, or the shape of each defined muscle, or the undisguised humor in his gaze as it slowly travels downward. . .

I am brought back to the present suddenly as I notice his gaze lowering. His eyes darken, changing from golden to a dark bronze in the blink of an eye. I shift my weight back, but the movement is wrong. My own gaze flickers downward, only to realize that I'm standing on two feet instead of four. My clothes are far behind me, shredded with the change and scattered into thousands of pieces.

The growl returns again, rumbling in my throat. My skin heats up, blazing like an open flame. I crash back into the river, submerging myself in the icy water. The currents tug at my skin, threatening to tear me apart, forcing me back into a wolf's body. I growl softly once more, bubbles popping out from my mouth. I shoot up out of the water, spitting out the muck. Water sloshes around my throat as I press back into a boulder, my gaze shooting up to Emmett.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I demand, feeling my fingertips quiver beneath the water.

Emmett's laughter fades into chuckles. He puts his hands up, retreating farther up the bank. "Am I supposed to know? I guess I just have that effect on women. Or you." He pauses, folding his arms across his chest as he stares down at me, his expression smug. "Can't say I regret what I did, however I did it."

My darkened gaze stares down at the surface of the water. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, my breathing slows and my head clears. The thoughts in my head continue to buzz, the alarms going off once more. I let out a short breath and look back up at him again. "What kind of show are you trying to pull? Is this some sort of sick mind trick?"

He shakes his head. "I don't got power. Just these babies." Emmett curls his arm, flexing his biceps before leaning in to press his lips to each one on their side. He laughs—the sound still the same powerful boom—and attempts to steal a glimpse of my form through the murky water. When he fails, his bright stare settles on my face. "But if I had a power to make you do what you did again, I'd be using it."

Something about his words makes me want to smile, but instead, I find myself scowling. "Yes, I'm hot as hell, we all know. But my beautiful wolfish scent can't be so alluring, now can it?"

Emmett drags in a deep breath. He glances over both of his shoulders, and then tilts his head as he looks back over to me. "What scent?"

"The—" I cut myself off, realizing that he probably doesn't find any disgust in my scent either. I exhale sharply, muttering partly to myself. "The one that is supposed to smell like shit, only it doesn't."

Emmett laughs loudly, the sound booming down the river. "Guess I win this battle. It was my turn to win, anyway."

I shake my head, continuing to hold his gaze. He's a joker, and that's very clear to me now, but it isn't enough for me to start believing that his actions are just carefree and not shadowing over any bad intentions. I pause, but only for a moment as his golden gaze causes my thoughts to travel to my mouth before I can think to stop them. Words flow openly through my lips, changed from a thought to a sentence in a matter of seconds. Damn his…effect.

"Should I regret not killing you when I had the chance?"

Emmett takes a few minutes to study me, needing a few moments to form a response. His lips curl up and he shrugs, still wearing a smile despite the question. "I don't think you will. If you do regret it…well, I just might make sure you don't."

I arch one eyebrow, then the other, watching the obvious amusement shine in his eyes. "Do you even know my name?"

"Jordan, right?" He extends his smooth, opened hand toward me. I look up into his golden eyes, catching the amused gleam in them. "Emmett Dale McCarty Cullen."

I shake my head, leaning back deeper into the water, knowing full well what will happen—or more so, what will show—if I reach over to take his hand. I meet his gaze again, finding a similar smirk appearing on my lips. "Not a chance."

Emmett chuckles as he leans away, dropping his hand. He continues to smirk. "You're good; I'll give you that, at least."

All I can do is nod, mesmerized by his expression once more. "You're not the first one to try something with me."

Emmett's eyebrows rise. His smirk widens into another grin. "Isn't that rather questionable?"

"Is it?"

He shakes his head, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I wouldn't blame them."

His words strike up yet another flare deep inside me. The warning is instinctual, but instead of moving away, my question is spoken aloud. "What do you want from me?"

Emmett opens his mouth to speak, but I don't get an answer. His head snaps to the side, his expression darkening as he grows silent. After a few seconds, he shakes his head, his gaze darting down to my hidden form. "I'll have to get back to you on that."

He flashes a final dimpled grin and then he is gone, just like that.

Moments later, a large black form pushes through the brush. His eyes rake over my drenched hair and bare shoulders. He huffs bluntly before his gaze rises up to the line. In the corner of my eye, I can just see his nostrils flexing before he growls lowly. The sound itself is questionable enough for me to understand, even without any words.

I stare at the ripples across the water, seeing Sam's dark form hovering in the mirror of the surface. "You tell me, Sam."

Sam snorts, swinging his head from side to side. He repeats the same growl, lifting his gaze toward the other side of the line again. He ducks back into the brush, disappearing. I run my hands through my hair before standing, bursting into my wolf form. I leap back out and take off after him, starting to catch up with the gathered patrol while pulling myself back together.

The day passes smoothly from there, silence and space still given to me from everyone I come across. And I somehow make it through, even though Emmett's sweet scent still lingers in my nostrils, intoxicating.