way. His palm burned my skin, like he had a 
fever. 

"Oh, right," I said. It was uncomfortable, having my face so close to his with his hand hot 
against my skin. "Sam was running a temperature." 

Jacob laughed again. "Sam's hand felt like he'd left it sitting on a hot stovetop." 

He was so close, I could feel his warm breath. I reached up casually, to take his hand away 
and free my face, but wound my fingers through his so that I wouldn't hurt his feelings. He 
smiled and leaned back, undeceived by my attempt at nonchalance. 

"So Mr. Ateara went straight to the other elders," Jacob went on. "They were the only ones 
left who still knew, who remembered. Mr. Ateara, Billy, and Harry had actually seen their 
grandfathers make the change. When Old Quil told them, they met with Sam secretly and 
explained. 

"It was easier when he understood - when he wasn't alone anymore. They knew he wouldn't 
be the only one affected by the Cullens' return" - he pronounced the name with unconscious 
bitterness - "but no one else was old enough. So Sam waited for the rest of us to join him. . . 
." 

"The Cullens had no idea," I said in a whisper. "They didn't think that werewolves still 
existed here. They didn't know that coming here would change you." 

"It doesn't change the fact that it did." 

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." 

"You think I should be as forgiving as you are? We can't all be saints and martyrs." 

"Grow up, Jacob." 

"I wish I could," he murmured quietly. 

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. "What?" 

Jacob chuckled. "One of those many strange things I mentioned." 

"You . . . can't . . . grow up?" I said blankly. "You're what? Not . . .aging ? Is that a joke?" 

"Nope." He popped his lips on the P. 

I felt blood flood my face. Tears - tears of rage - filled my eyes. My teeth mashed together 
with an audible grinding sound. 

"Bella? What did I say?" 

 

I was on my feet again, my hands balled up into fists, my whole frame shaking. 

"You. Are. Not. Aging," I growled through my teeth. 

Jacob tugged my arm gently, trying to make me sit. "None of us are. What's wrong with 
you?" 

"Am I the only one who has to get old ? I get older every stinking day!" I nearly shrieked, 
throwing my hands in the air. Some little part of me recognized that I was throwing a 
Charlie-esque fit, but that rational part was greatly overshadowed by the irrational part. 
"Damn it! What kind of world is this? Where's the justice ?" 

"Take it easy, Bella." 

"Shut up, Jacob. Just shut up! This is so unfair!" 

"Did you seriously just stamp your foot? I thought girls only did that on TV." 

I growled unimpressively. 

"It's not as bad as you seem to think it is. Sit down and I'll explain." 

"I'll stand." 

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Whatever you want. But listen, I will get older . . . someday." 

"Explain." 

He patted the tree. I glowered for a second, but then sat; my temper had burned out as 
suddenly as it had flared and I'd calmed down enough to realize that I was making a fool of 
myself. 

"When we get enough control to quit . . . ," Jacob said. "When we stop phasing for a solid 
length of time, we age again. It's not easy." He shook his head, abruptly doubtful. "It's gonna 
take a really long time to learn that kind of restraint, I think. Even Sam's not there yet. 
'Course it doesn't help that there's a huge coven of vampires right down the road. We can't 
even think about quitting when the tribe needs protectors. But you shouldn't get all bent out 
of shape about it, anyway, because I'm already older than you, physically at least." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Look at me, Bells. Do I look sixteen?" 

I glanced up and down his mammoth frame, trying to be unbiased. "Not exactly, I guess." 

"Not at all. Because we reach full growth inside of a few months when the werewolf gene 
gets triggered. It's one hell of a growth spurt." He made a face. "Physically, I'm probably 
twenty-five or something. So there's no need for you to freak out about being too old for me 

 

for at least another seven years." 

Twenty-five or something .The idea messed with my head. But I remembered that growth 
spurt - I remembered watching him shoot up and fill out right before my eyes. I remembered 
how he would look different from one day to the next. . . . I shook my head, feeling dizzy. 

"So, did you want to hear about Sam, or did you want to scream at me some more for things 
that are out of my control?" 

I took a deep breath. "Sorry. Age is a touchy subject for me. That hit a nerve." 

Jacob's eyes tightened, and he looked as if he were trying to decide how to word something. 

Since I didn't want to talk about the truly touchy stuff - my plans for the future, or treaties 
that might be broken by said plans, I prompted him. "So once Sam understood what was 
going on, once he had Billy and Harry and Mr. Ateara, you said it wasn't so hard anymore. 
And, like you also said, there are the cool parts. . . ." I hesitated briefly. "Why does Sam hate 
them so much? Why does he wish I would hate them?" 

Jacob sighed. "This is the really weird part." 

"I'm a pro at weird." 

"Yeah, I know." He grinned before he continued. "So, you're right. Sam knew what was 
going on, and everything was almost okay. In most ways, his life was back to, well, not 
normal. But better." Then Jacob's expression tightened, like something painful was coming. 
"Sam couldn't tell Leah. We aren't supposed to tell anyone who doesn't have to know. And it 
wasn't really safe for him to be around her - but he cheated, just like I did with you. Leah was 
furious that he wouldn't tell her what was going on - where he'd been, where he went at 
night, why he was always so exhausted - but they were working it out. They were trying. 
They really loved each other." 

"Did she find out? Is that what happened?" 

He shook his head. "No, that wasn't the problem. Her cousin, Emily Young, came down 
from the Makah reservation to visit her one weekend." 

I gasped. "Emily is Leah's cousin?" 

"Second cousins. They're close, though. They were like sisters when they were kids." 

"That's . . . horrible. How could Sam . . . ?" I trailed off, shaking my head. 

"Don't judge him just yet. Did anyone ever tell you . . . Have you ever heard of imprinting ?" 

"Imprinting?" I repeated the unfamiliar word. "No. What's that mean?" 

"It's one of those bizarre things we have to deal with. It doesn't happen to everyone. In fact, 

 

it's the rare exception, not the rule. Sam had heard all the stories by then, the stories we all 
used to think were legends. He'd heard of imprinting, but he never dreamed . . ." 

"What is it?" I prodded. 

Jacob's eyes strayed to the ocean. "Sam did love Leah. But when he saw Emily, that didn't 
matter anymore. Sometimes . . . we don't exactly know why . . . we find our mates that way." 
His eyes flashed back to me, his face reddening. "I mean . . . our soul mates." 

"What way? Love at first sight?" I snickered. 

Jacob wasn't smiling. His dark eyes were critical of my reaction. "It's a little bit more 
powerful than that. More absolute." 

"Sorry," I muttered. "You're serious, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, I am." 

"Love at first sight? But more powerful?" My voice still sounded dubious, and he could hear 
that. 

"It's not easy to explain. It doesn't matter, anyway." He shrugged indifferently. "You wanted 
to know what happened to Sam to make him hate the vampires for changing him, to make 
him hate himself. And that's what happened. He broke Leah's heart. He went back on every 
promise he'd ever made her. Every day he has to see the accusation in her eyes, and know 
that she's right." 

He stopped talking abruptly, as if he'd said something he hadn't meant to. 

"How did Emily deal with this? If she was so close to Leah . . . ?" Sam and Emily were 
utterly right together, two puzzle pieces, shaped for each other exactly. Still . . . how had 
Emily gotten past the fact that he'd belonged to someone else? Her sister, almost. 

"She was real angry, in the beginning. But it's hard to resist that level of commitment and 
adoration." Jacob sighed. "And then, Sam could tell her everything. There are no rules that 
can bind you when you find your other half. You know how she got hurt?" 

"Yeah." The story in Forks was that she was mauled by a bear, but I was in on the secret. 

Werewolves are unstable, Edward had said. The people near them get hurt. 

"Well, weirdly enough, that was sort of how they resolved things. Sam was so horrified, so 
sickened by himself, so full of hate for what he'd done. . . . He would have thrown himself 
under a bus if it would have made her feel better. He might have anyway, just to escape what 
he'd done. He was shattered. . . . Then, somehow, she was the one comforting him , and after 
that. . . ." 

 

Jacob didn't finish his thought, and I sensed the story had gotten too personal to share. 

"Poor Emily," I whispered. "Poor Sam. Poor Leah. . . ." 

"Yeah, Leah got the worst end of the stick," he agreed. "She puts on a brave face. She's 
going to be a bridesmaid." 

I gazed away, toward the jagged rocks that rose from the ocean like stubby broken-off 
fingers on the south rim of the harbor, while I tried to make sense of it all. I could feel his 
eyes on my face, waiting for me to say something. 

"Did it happen to you?" I finally asked, still looking away. "This love-at-first-sight thing?" 

"No," he answered briskly. "Sam and Jared are the only ones." 

"Hmm," I said, trying to sound only politely interested. I was relieved, and I tried to explain 
my reaction to myself. I decided I was just glad he didn't claim there was some mystical, 
wolfy connection between the two of us. Our relationship