The vicious edge to her words left me floundering. I hadn’t expected to have my anger trumped.
I don’t understand.
You would, if you weren’t just like the rest of them. If my “female stuff”—she thought the words with a hard, sarcastic tone—didn’t send you running for cover just like any stupid male, so you could actually pay attention to what it all means.
Oh.
Yeah, so none of us like to think about that stuff with her. Who would? Of course I remembered Leah’s panic that first month after she joined the pack—and I remembered cringing away from it just like everyone else. Because she couldn’t be pregnant—not unless there was some really freaky religious immaculate crap going on. She hadn’t been with anyone since Sam. And then, when the weeks dragged on and nothing turned into more nothing, she’d realized that her body wasn’t following the normal patterns anymore. The horror—what was she now? Had her body changed because she’d become a werewolf? Or had she become a werewolf because her body was wrong? The only female werewolf in the history of forever. Was that because she wasn’t as female as she should be?
None of us had wanted to deal with that breakdown. Obviously, it wasn’t like we could empathize.
You know why Sam thinks we imprint, she thought, calmer now.
Sure. To carry on the line.
Right. To make a bunch of new little werewolves. Survival of the species, genetic override. You’re drawn to the person who gives you the best chance to pass on the wolf gene.
I waited for her to tell me where she was going with this.
If I was any good for that, Sam would have been drawn to me.
Her pain was enough that I broke stride under it.
But I’m not. There’s something wrong with me. I don’t have the ability to pass on the gene, apparently, despite my stellar bloodlines. So I become a freak—the girlie-wolf—good for nothing else. I’m a genetic dead end and we both know it.
We do not, I argued with her. That’s just Sam’s theory. Imprinting happens, but we don’t know why. Billy thinks it’s something else.
I know, I know. He thinks you’re imprinting to make strongerwolves. Because you and Sam are such humongous monsters—bigger than our fathers. But either way, I’m still not a candidate. I’m… I’m menopausal. I’m twenty years old and I’m menopausal.
Ugh. I so didn’t want to have this conversation. You don’t know that, Leah. It’s probably just the whole frozen-in-time thing. When you quit your wolf and start getting older again, I’m sure things will… er… pick right back up.
I mightthink that—except that no one’s imprinting on me, notwithstanding my impressive pedigree. You know, she added thoughtfully, if you weren’t around, Seth would probably have the best claim to being Alpha—through his blood, at least. Of course, no one would ever consider me. . . .
You really wantto imprint, or be imprinted on, or whichever? I demanded.What’s wrong with going out and falling in love like a normal person, Leah? Imprinting is just another way of getting your choices taken away from you.
Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil… they don’t seem to mind.
None of them havea mind of their own.
You don’t want to imprint?
Hell, no!
That’s just because you’re already in love with her. That would go away, you know, if you imprinted. You wouldn’t have to hurt over her anymore.
Do you want to forget the way you feel about Sam?
She deliberated for a moment. I think I do.
I sighed. She was in a healthier place than I was.
But back to my original point, Jacob. I understand why your blond vampire is so cold—in the figurative sense. She’s focused. She’s got her eyes on the prize, right? Because you always want the very most what you can never, ever have.
Youwould act like Rosalie? Youwould murder someone—because that’s what she’s doing, making sure no one interferes with Bella’s death—you would do that to have a baby? Since when are you a breeder?
I just want the options I don’t have, Jacob. Maybe, if there was nothing wrong with me, I would never give it a thought.
You would kill for that? I demanded, not letting her escape my question.
That’s not what she’s doing. I think it’s more like she’s living vicariously. And… if Bella asked meto help her with this… She paused, considering. Even though I don’t think too much of her, I’d probably do the same as the bloodsucker.
A loud snarl ripped through my teeth.
Because, if it was turned around, I’d want Bella to do that for me. And so would Rosalie. We’d both do it her way.
Ugh! You’re as bad as they are!
That’s the funny thing about knowing you can’t have something. It makes you desperate.
And… that’s my limit. Right there. This conversation is over.
Fine.
It wasn’t enough that she’d agreed to stop. I wanted a stronger termination than that.
I was only about a mile from where I’d left my clothes, so I phased back to human and walked. I didn’t think about our conversation. Not because there wasn’t anything to think about, but because I couldn’t stand it. I would not see it that way—but it was harder to keep from doing that when Leah had put the thoughts and emotions straight into my head.
Yeah, I wasn’t running with her when this was finished. She could go be miserable in La Push. One little Alpha command before I left for good wasn’t going to kill anybody.
It was real early when I got to the house. Bella was probably still asleep. I figured I’d poke my head in, see what was going on, give ’em the green light to go hunting, and then find a patch of grass soft enough to sleep on while human. I wasn’t phasing back until Leah was asleep.
But there was a lot of low mumbling going on inside the house, so maybe Bella wasn’t sleeping. And then I heard the machinery sound from upstairs again—the X-ray? Great. It looked like day four on the countdown was starting off with a bang.
Alice opened the door for me before I could walk in.
She nodded. “Hey, wolf.”
“Hey, shortie. What’s going on upstairs?” The big room was empty—all the murmurs were on the second floor.
She shrugged her pointy little shoulders. “Maybe another break.” She tried to say the words casually, but I could see the flames in the very back of her eyes. Edward and I weren’t the only ones who were burning over this. Alice loved Bella, too.
“Another rib?” I asked hoarsely.
“No. Pelvis this time.”
Funny how it kept hitting me, like each new thing was a surprise. When was I going to stop being surprised? Each new disaster seemed kinda obvious in hindsight.
Alice was staring at my hands, watching them tremble.
Then we were listening to Rosalie’s voice upstairs.
“See, I told you I didn’t hear a crack. You need your ears checked, Edward.”
There was no answer.
Alice made a face. “Edward’s going to end up ripping Rose into small pieces, I think. I’m surprised she doesn’t see that. Or maybe she thinks Emmett will be able to stop him.”