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When Rosalie Marcum moves to Seattle she vows to make a new start, to take control and make some changes. Her first brave adventure doesn't quite go as planned, but is certain to change her world forever. "I've not had any woman look at me the way you do," he whispers, voice husky. "I think you've been walking around with your eyes closed Jake," I laugh, raising my eyebrows at him, full of scepticism. His cheeky smile makes a timely appearance. "Oh, yeah, well, there's plenty of that." Modest as always. I'm just about to roll my eyes when his face turns serious again, stopping me in my tracks. "I mean, I've never had anyone look at me like they really..." He pauses, worrying his lip, "Like they really love me. Only me." Oh.

Jacob/OC pairing with the inclusion of several other characters from the Twilight series.

9. Chapter Nine

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Jacob doesn't speak to me again until we're climbing into his car. Our eyes meet as I fasten my seatbelt and I notice his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he exhales loudly before speaking,

"Are you sure you want to come?" To be honest, no, but I'll be damned if he knows that.

"Absolutely," I lie with what I hope is a confident smile. He leans over and takes my hand, his thumb rubbing gently against my palm.

"That might change your perspective on… a lot of things." When I shrug nonchalantly, he huffs. "I mean it. It could change everything."

"Jacob," I squeeze his hand tightly, tilting my head to one side, "I moved half way across the world looking for change. I want to come with you." He sighs again, giving my hand one last squeeze before releasing his hold and starting the engine. I swivel around in my seat, straining to see William sitting in the back seat looking frantically out of the window, chewing on his fingernails. "Are you okay, Will?" I ask tentatively. He jumps, his head snapping round to face me.

"Yeah… good… I'm good," he replies quickly, making only the briefest of eye contact before they slide back to the window, darting frantically from side to side. The only part of him that is still recognisable since his shower is his nervous disposition. It took a while, but an hour after venturing into the bathroom William finally emerged, clean, clothed and shaven. I suspect most of the time had been taken up in cutting his hair, which was now a rough mess of blonde, stunted curls. Almost totally unrecognisable, he looks even younger, even more fragile than before. What horrors has this boy seen to make him sit like that, posture curled in on himself, rocking gently back and forth?

I drag my eyes away, back to Jacob. "Do you think he's going to be okay?" I whisper softly. I think even if I shouted it, chances are our nervous friend would be too distracted to hear me.

"I don't know," he answers tightly, "I don't really know what's going on." I'll bet he knows a whole lot more than me. The heavens open again and start to lash down loudly rain against the windshield. Even with the wipers on top speed I can barely see a thing, but Jacob continues driving confidently, still speeding, until after mere minutes he pulls onto what sounds like gravel. He hops out of the car and flings open my door, splattering me with rain, practically pulling me out and running with me onto a front porch, using his height to shield me from most of the rain. William comes running after us, panting from the exertion. Jacob doesn't bother to knock the front door, when he turns the handle it swings straight open and he ushers us inside, closing the door and locking it. "Come with me." Both William and I follow Jake obediently through a small hallway and into a brightly lit kitchen with clean white counters and cheery yellow walls. The people inside must have already been expecting us because their heads are turned towards the door before we're even inside. Six eyes and smiles lock onto Jacob as he enters, stooping through the doorway, smiles that grow even wider when they catch sight of me as Jake pushes me forwards, then falter at the sight of William. The men's noses start to wrinkle and the only face I recognise, Quil's, is distorted in confusion as they look William up and down from their respective spots at the kitchen table.

"Jacob, we weren't expecting you." The authoritative voice comes from the tall, broadly built man who's rising from the table. His face is a picture of calm, but his eyes look uncertain, flicking between William and I as he approaches. "You should have… called." I walk myself a few paces backwards so my back is against the wall, eager to fade into the background.

"It was a little difficult," Jacob explains, his gaze flickering towards me, causing Sam to focus on me properly for the first time. He gazes at me for a beat and gifts me with the smallest of smiles, before turning his attention back to Jacob.

"Who's your friend bro?" Another voice calls from the table, this man slightly smaller than the others, but still well-muscled, tanned as the rest.

"Hang on, Seth," the woman next to him berates gently, and as I take her in properly for the first time I suddenly notice that hidden under her long, sleek black hair, is half a face covered in horrific scars. One side of her mouth smiles at me as she rises from the table and I thank the lord that I perfected my poker face during my midwifery training. It isn't a profession that lends itself well to wearing your emotions on your sleeve, especially revulsion of any kind. "Would you like me to give your friend a tour, Jake?" she asks, gesturing towards me meaningfully, and I realise, as Jacob is poised to nod, what she's trying to do.

"No!" I exclaim, then realise from the frowns my outburst gains me that I must have come across a little rude. "No thank you. Jacob's already tried to talk me out of coming, unsuccessfully, and to be honest, I think it's a little late in the game to be acting like everything's perfectly normal down here in La Push." The teenage girl at the table starts to giggle, trying to smother it beneath her thick fringe of black hair. Everyone continues to stare at me. All I can manage is a lame shrug. "No offense."

"You really do suck at secret keeping, Uncle Jay," the girl giggles, ignoring a gentle elbow in the ribs from Quil.

"Claire-bear," he mutters, his tone disapproving but his eyes gazing at her in obvious adoration. Jacob just looks down at her, one black eyebrow raised, finally cracking a smile when she manages to smother her laugher with both hands.

"Again, Jacob?" The authoritative man sighs. Instead of looking chastised, Jacob's grin just grows as he shrugs boyishly.

"Sorry Sam. Really wasn't my fault this time, promise." Sam just shakes his head wearily and then walks closer to William, dwarfing him in size so that the blonde boy has to look upward just to meet Sam's eyes. He looks even more nervous than he did in the car, eyes switching from face to face, back against the wall like mine, only focusing properly once Sam is stood directly in front of him. "She's really stubborn!" Jacob shrugs in Quil's direction, his eyes wide and innocent. Quil's given in, giggling along with Claire, rolling his eyes.

"Anything for a pretty face," Seth smirks.

"Enough," Sam announces firmly and instantly everyone sits to attention, all eyes on William. "Who are you?"

I can see William quivering from the other side of the room, his chin shaking as he opens his mouth to open.

"My names William Baxter," he replies meekly.

"He says he needs our help," Jacob interjects, "That he's being hunted."

"Why would anyone be doing that?" Sam presses, his look stoic and serious, addressing both Will and Jacob at once.


"I'm a werewolf," William speaks up, interrupting Jake. I watch the reaction in the room as they receive the information that made me shake and shiver on first hearing. Everyone suddenly looks nervous and confused, several arms being folded at once.

"You don't smell right," Quil says, his nose wrinkling again, looking Will up and down, "We would have known you were coming."

"I'm different," he tells them, stepping forward, seemingly overcoming his nerves momentarily. "I've not got any noble, spirit warrior bloodline, like you." He gestures to the group as he talks, and I can't help but note the unpleasant undertones in his voice, the sullen look barely contained behind his eyes. "I was bitten two years ago. I thought it was just a bite that got infected… the fever was so intense. Then I started waking up in places I didn't recognise after every full moon. Naked, bloody…" His eyes drift off somewhere else, as if he's remembering. His lips twitch, and he's back. "I was coping… I adjusted… and then I noticed I was being followed."

"Followed?" the girl with the scar asks, her hands clasped tight on the table in front of her, knuckles white.

"They call themselves the Order of Arcadia," William smirks, his fear only obviously from the way his hands suddenly start to wring, "They're werewolf hunters."

"How haven't we heard of them before?" Jacob asks, addressing Sam, his face unusually serious. William laughs derisively.

"Your guess is as good as mine… A pack your size, I don't know how they'd overlook you. Maybe it's just my bad luck," he comments, his voice bitter.

"Maybe because we're not true werewolves?" Seth interjects, hope obvious in his voice.

"From what I can gather, they don't seem the type to care much about differentiating. They've taken shots at me before while I'm still human." On cue, William pulls up his t-shirt to reveal a nasty welt across his side. It looks angry and inflamed, although the scar looks fully healed. "Silver bullets," he explains.

"And now you've led them right to us," Sam accuses, his voice louder than before. He looks over his shoulder to the woman with the scars and I see the panic in his eyes as he looks at her. He moves to her side and they exchange a long look before he wraps both arms protectively around her, pulling her snug to him.

"I need your help!" William exclaims and I hear the desperation in his voice again, the same as before, "Your pack isn't as unknown as you think… I thought with your size you'd be able to help me!"

"We don't fight humans," Jacob states bluntly and Sam nods in confirmation,

"Our purpose is to protect Quilete lands, not to wage wars." An awkward silence fills the room as William looks frantically from one person to the next, his mouth flapping in silent indignation.

"You won't help me?" The boys exchange glances until Sam signs resignedly. When he speaks, he's not looking at William. Instead, he's looking adoringly at the woman in his arms; as though it were the last time he would ever see her.

"We need to know all the facts before we agree to anything, and for that, we need the rest of the pack." He finally looks up, straight to Jacob.

"Call them."