He smelled him first. Not just the vampire stink—though that was bad enough—but his scent. Lingering on the wind like something that didn’t belong, clinging to every leaf and root and breath of air. Cold. Polished. Artificial.

And threaded through it, the one thing that made Jacob’s stomach turn: her scent.

Bella.

It hit him like a punch. That warm, human softness laced around something undead. Jacob’s chest tightened. His jaw clenched. The stink of it was everywhere, like it had soaked into the dirt itself.

He stalked forward, deeper into the woods, each step fueled by a heat that curled low in his gut. A wolf’s heat. Protective. Possessive. Angry.

The clearing opened before him like a secret exposed. Sunlight dappled through swaying branches, casting long shadows across the mossy floor. And there—right at the center of it—stood the vampire.

Jacob stopped short.

It was like staring at a ghost carved from moonlight. Too still. Too smooth. Like someone had sculpted him to be untouchable.

And Bella loved that.

His hands flexed at his sides, nails biting into his palms. The wind shifted, and the scent hit him again, stronger this time. Bella’s shampoo. Her heartbeat—he swore he could still feel it, fast and fluttering like it did when she was afraid, or worse—excited.

He hadn’t touched her that morning. Hadn’t seen her. But the vampire had. That much was obvious.

“Should’ve figured you’d be the one she ran to.”

His voice came low and bitter, more breath than sound, the forest muffling everything except the pounding in his ears. The vampire didn’t speak. He just turned to face him, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

Jacob hated that. Hated how composed he looked, how quiet he always was, how he never reacted.

He hated that Bella looked at him the way she used to look at the sky.

And more than anything—he hated that it mattered.

The silence between them crackled, thick as storm clouds. Every breath Jacob took felt like it might ignite something. His muscles tensed, heart hammering against his ribs, the wolf in him clawing just beneath the surface. Fur wanted to break skin. But he held it back. For now.

His eyes roamed over the other’s face, looking for cracks, signs of something monstrous. But there was nothing. No blood. No bite marks. Just calm. Control. Like he belonged here.

And maybe that’s what burned the most.

“She doesn’t know what you are,” Jacob muttered, voice like gravel underfoot. “Or maybe she does. And that’s worse.”

He could still hear her laugh in his head, the curve of it when she was happy, when she wasn’t thinking about the consequences. She had no idea what she was gambling with.

No idea what it was doing to him.

The vampire moved slightly—barely—but it was enough to set Jacob on edge. His fists balled again. His body hummed with warning.

“You think just because you sparkle in the sunlight, that makes you safe?”

A crow shrieked in the distance. The trees shivered. Somewhere nearby, a deer bolted.

He took a step forward.

“She’s not a prize.”

Another step.

“And you’re not her savior.”

He stopped, just outside lunging distance. The heat rolling off him made the air around him shimmer.

“You want to protect her? Then stay away.”

But he knew that wouldn’t happen. Not now. Not with Bella looking at him like he was gravity.

Jacob stared, his chest rising and falling with restrained fury. And something else. Something darker. Something that scared him even more than the vampire in front of him:

Jealousy.

Not just because Bella chose him. But because, standing here now, Jacob realized something that made his blood run hot and cold all at once—

He couldn’t stop looking at him.