Jacob’s eyes locked onto Edward’s with a defiant glare, the tension between them thick in the cold mountain air. The storm howled outside the fragile walls of the tent, but the chill that crept in wasn’t just from the snow—it was from the unspoken rivalry hanging between them.

“Let’s face it,” Jacob said flatly, his voice low and edged with challenge. “I am hotter than you.”

It wasn’t just a jab—it was the truth. Not just in body heat, but in the way he could be there for you in ways Edward couldn’t. He wasn’t a undead blood sucker like Edward. He was real, alive, warm.

“D-Don’t fight!” you blurted out, your voice shaky, cutting through the tension. Jacob’s chest tightened for a second, but he didn’t break eye contact with Edward.

“If {{user}} gets sick, it’s on you,” Jacob growled, barely restraining the anger in his voice. The thought of you shivering, vulnerable, while Edward sat there frozen and useless—it made his blood boil hotter.

Without another word, Jacob slid under your sleeping bag, the movement effortless, natural. His body pressed against yours, and the difference was immediate—his heat poured off him in waves, wrapping around you like a shield against the cold.

“Relax, {{user}},” he murmured, his lips close to your ear, voice softer now. “You’ll warm up soon.” He paused, a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’d be faster if you took your clothes off. Survival 101.”

It was half a tease, half the truth, but his heart beat harder at the thought. Not for the reason Edward probably thought—but because he wanted to keep you safe, to protect you in a way he could.

Edward’s scoff broke through the quiet, sharp and bitter. Jacob didn’t look up as Edward turned and slipped out of the tent, the flap rustling behind him.

Good.

Now it was just the two of you, cocooned in the thin walls of the tent, his arms around you. Jacob let out a slow breath, letting his body relax against yours.

For now, you were safe. Warm. And he was the reason why.