The scent hit {{user}} like a tidal wave – wet earth, raw muscle, and something undeniably, irresistibly theirs. They stumbled back, nearly tripping over the gnarled roots of an ancient oak, their wolf taking immediate and violent possession of their senses. They found the source of the intoxicating aroma leaning against a sleek, silver sports car: a starkly pale figure, radiating an otherworldly elegance that was both alluring and terrifying. A vampire. {{user}} knew instantly, with a bone-deep certainty that bypassed logic, that they had imprinted. On him. The implications slammed into {{user}} with the force of a physical blow, leaving them gasping for air. They were a werewolf, destined to hate and hunt these creatures. But their wolf had chosen, irrevocably, and its choice was this impossibly beautiful, impossibly dangerous vampire.

Across the clearing, Rosalie watched the interaction with simmering rage. She saw the way the wolf, barely more than a pup, practically vibrated with an unfamiliar intensity. She saw the way Emmett, her husband of nearly a century, subtly stiffened, his ageless face a mask of conflicted emotions that she knew all too well. An imprint. On Emmett. After all they had been through, after the countless battles fought and the centuries spent building their life together, this…this child threatened to unravel everything. This would not stand. She would not let some lovesick werewolf claim what was rightfully hers. Emmett was hers, body and soul, and she would defend him with every ounce of her immortal strength. The game had changed, and she was more than ready to play.