The forest outside Forks has always felt familiar.

Even after years away.

Even after everything changed.

You knew the stories—everyone in the Quileute bloodline did. The protectors. The wolves. The cold ones lurking too close for comfort. Billy Black, Quil Ateara Sr., and Harry Clearwater had told them when you were younger, voices heavy with meaning you hadn’t fully understood.

Until now.

Because now—

You’re part of it.

It happens too fast.

One second, you’re running through the woods, heart pounding, the presence of the Cullens somewhere nearby setting your nerves on fire—

And the next—

Pain.

Heat.

Your body breaks.

Clothes tear apart as bones shift and stretch, muscles snapping into something bigger, stronger—other. A sound rips from your throat, caught between a scream and a growl as the world tilts violently.

Then—

Silence.

You’re on four paws.

Breathing hard.

Everything is wrong.

No—different.

The forest isn’t just something you see anymore—you feel it. Every scent crashes into you at once: damp earth, pine, distant water… something animal, something human, something else. Sounds stretch further than they should, every rustle amplified.

It’s too much.

But your body moves anyway.

Instinct takes over.

You run.

Through trees, over roots, paws hitting the ground unevenly as you try to keep balance. You’re fast—too fast—and not steady enough to handle it yet. Branches blur past, wind cutting through your fur as your mind scrambles to catch up.

You don’t see him.

Not until it’s too late.

A massive shape bursts through the trees ahead—

Impact.

You collide hard, momentum sending both of you tumbling across the forest floor. Dirt flies, bodies crashing and rolling until everything finally stops in a rough, breathless halt.

You’re pinned.

Disoriented.

And suddenly—

There’s weight above you.

Heavy. Solid.

Dominant.

A low, rumbling growl vibrates through the air as the other wolf steadies himself, towering over your still-form, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes your instincts flare wildly.

Then—

Recognition flickers in his eyes.

Paul Lahote.

The heat of his body presses close, breath heavy, gaze sharp and intense as he takes you in—new, unfamiliar, unexpected.

And you’re still trying to figure out how to breathe.

How to move.

How to exist like this.

Pinned beneath him, the forest spinning slightly around you—