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The group waited in silence for several minutes. The stillness settled over them like a dense blanket, heavy with unease and restrained expectations.
Some of the newborns shifted nervously, throwing quick glances at one another, uncomfortable with Nate's presence so close. It was obvious they feared making a wrong move… as if even a blink might be enough to draw his attention and end with them being "corrected." The tension tightened their shoulders and held their bodies rigid—too rigid, even for vampires.
The Romanians, on the other hand, seemed amused by the whole situation. Stefan and Vladimir whispered to each other in low voices, their tone light, almost entertained. To any human it would have been an incomprehensible murmur… but to Nate's ears, the conversation formed with perfect clarity: Vladimir was filling Stefan in on what had happened with the Quileute pack, commenting on details, exaggerating others, clearly enjoying his companion's reactions far too much.
Alistair remained pressed against the trunk of a tree like a cornered animal. Even though Nate had guaranteed him safety—and even though he now understood how pointless it would be to try to escape—he was still deeply tense. His solitary nature clashed violently with being surrounded by such a large group… and worse, one that outmatched him in number, strength, and blind obedience.
He hated being around others. But he hated even more being around others against his will.
Only two figures seemed untouched by the discomfort suffocating the rest.
Alice waited calmly, her posture relaxed, though every so often she edged a little closer to Nate's arm, as if seeking a small anchor in the middle of so many unfamiliar vampires. Her tranquility was genuine, but her proximity betrayed a subtle unease—not out of fear, but simple dislike of being surrounded by a group she didn't particularly enjoy.
Nate, for his part, stood still, as if the entire situation were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His eyes were fixed on the forest—patient, expectant. Listening.
Waiting for something.
Then he heard it.
First an uneven gasp, then the rhythmic thud of heavy strides pounding against the damp earth. A gallop that belonged to no vampire.
The newborns tensed immediately, some shifting into defensive stances. The Romanians stopped talking, suddenly intrigued. Alistair pressed even harder against the tree, horrified by what was approaching from behind—the same thing that had unsettled him during the run.
Nate, however, inhaled deeply and stepped forward with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the tension around him.
Without turning to Alice or anyone else, he murmured:
"He's coming."
And he took a few more steps, ready to receive Jacob.
Jacob appeared only seconds later.
He burst through the trees in a powerful reddish mass, his wolf form breaking into the scene with a harsh pant that revealed how fast he'd run to catch up. He carried a linen bag between his fangs; the cord dug into his muzzle every time he exhaled, leaving a faint mark on his skin.
His eyes—intelligent, wild, calculating—swept over the entire group with fierce alertness. He scanned face after face, scent after scent, evaluating every threat… until finally, his gaze landed on Nate.
Nate held the eye contact with absolute calm.
"I waited for you until dawn, like you asked," he said softly, his tone almost gentle in contrast to the tension in the air. "But when I saw you weren't coming, I had to move on. I still have much to do."
Jacob held the stare for a moment before nodding. Exhaustion was visible in the faint trembling of his muscles, in the uneven depth of his breathing. A wolf pushing his body to its limit was no small feat.
He hesitated.
Barely—a fraction of a second—but enough for everyone to understand he was acutely aware of how many vampires stood before him. Still, he stepped back and disappeared behind a tree.
The raw, rapid sound of bones rearranging shattered the quiet of the forest.
Moments later, Jacob reappeared in human form, holding the bag in one hand. His breathing was still heavy, but his stance was firm.
Nate didn't overlook the gesture. For Jacob—without his pack, without protection, without his wolf skin—presenting himself vulnerable before more than twenty vampires wasn't just bravery. It was a sign of respect. Of peace. Of something close to trust.
In Jacob's code, that was nearly an offering.
Jacob stepped forward a few paces, slow and alert, never taking his eyes off Nate. His discomfort was obvious—not fear, but a reassessment, as if he were reconsidering how to deal with Nate from now on.
"I had some complications…" he began, his voice a bit rough. "Jared was badly hurt yesterday. The Elders didn't want me coming near you again. Especially my father."
He paused, swallowing, as if the next part was difficult to admit.
"He wanted me to just let you leave. The whole Quileute tribe knows how dangerous you are now. A lot of them are still terrified."
Nate showed no reaction. His face remained serene, almost empty of emotion.
But inside, something tightened. Billy… Billy Black had been a close friend of his father. When Nate was human, Billy had always treated him with affection, almost like a nephew. Hearing that this same man now saw him as a monster hit him with a quiet sting.
It didn't last long.
The image of Jared trying to kill Alice extinguished the ache quickly.
"Jared brought it on himself."
His voice was honest—and cold.
"Honestly… I was going to kill him."
Jacob's eyes widened, unable to hide his shock.
The Romanians smiled immediately—predatory and pleased, as if the confession confirmed what they already believed.
Alice, however, pressed her lips together in a tiny grimace of discomfort.
Nate continued, without blinking.
"I made an effort not to. And I hope everyone remembers that."
He raised his voice just enough for it to resonate among the trees.
"Whoever tries to harm my mate… will end up as ashes."
The message was clear.
Deliberately clear.
Jacob understood at once that the words weren't only for him.
The newborns understood, too. Several gazes shifted toward Alice, studying her with a mix of respect and fear, as if memorizing her face to make sure they never made the mistake of putting her in danger.
Feeling watched, Alice moved a bit closer to Nate, brushing his arm as though seeking shelter among so many unknown predators.
Nate didn't take his eyes off Jacob.
Jacob seemed about to defend Jared. His lips parted slightly, ready to protest… but something stopped him.
The memory wasn't truly his, but he had felt it just the same: the imprinting. Connected to the pack, he had lived secondhand the fierce devotion Sam felt for his fiancée—a bond that burned from soul to bone. And although he had never experienced it himself, he knew enough to understand.
If the cold ones had something similar with their mates…
Jared was lucky to still be breathing.
Jacob let out a contained sigh, barely audible. He didn't try to justify himself further.
Nate noticed the pause, the silent conflict, the thoughts drifting far from the current conversation. So he spoke again, his tone clear, cutting through the stillness.
"Well?"
His voice was firm, but that last word carried an unexpectedly soft undertone.
"Do you have something else to say… or did you just come to say goodbye?"
Jacob swallowed. His discomfort was obvious, but something else burned beneath it: resolve.
"You said you want to hunt the vampire who attacked your house, right?" he muttered reluctantly. "Truth is… I think I have something that might help."
Nate's red eyes sharpened, glowing like embers at the possibility of a real lead. Even the Romanians stopped pretending they weren't interested. Alistair, fear still clinging to him, leaned forward slightly, eyeing the bag Jacob held.
"That night… when Mrs. Winter died…"
His jaw tightened, his fingers clenching hard around the cord of the bag.
"I was fighting that vampire inside the house. Charlie and your grandmother were injured. Now—" he drew in a breath, heavy with bitterness, "—now I think I should've driven him away and taken them to the hospital fast… but it was my first time shifting. I was furious. I wasn't thinking about saving anyone. I just wanted… to destroy him."
He fell silent. The quiet stretched on. For a moment, it seemed like he was waiting for blame, for accusation—any sign of guilt Nate might want to throw at him.
But Nate said nothing.
He only watched him. Closely. With that almost dangerous calm that seemed to come naturally to him.
Jacob continued, his voice lower.
"When Cullen got to the house… the vampire panicked. And I—" he closed his eyes for a second, "—I was so angry that I didn't tell them apart. I just smelled that sweet, disgusting scent in the air. I didn't mean to… but I attacked him. Cullen only held me back. But we gave the other vampire time to escape."
Nate nodded slowly. His expression remained cold, but his tone carried a hint of understanding Jacob wasn't expecting.
"Edward already told me what happened. I don't need an apology, Jacob."
He sighed.
"Now I know you did what you could. It was my fault for not being here."
He seemed ready to continue… but Jacob suddenly raised his voice, unable to hold back:
"That's not all that happened."
Nate lifted a brow slightly, a small gesture but loaded with expectation. The attention of the entire group shifted toward Jacob—or more precisely, toward the linen bag he held in his hand.
Jacob took a deep breath before continuing his account.
"When that vampire escaped… I chased him with everything I had," he began, his voice firm but tinged with regret. "I didn't know how to move yet. I didn't understand what I was doing. I just… followed him. It was instinct."
Nate didn't look away from him. There was patience in his gaze, but also a sharp edge of alertness.
Jacob went on:
"His scent trail was weak, but enough. And even though he tried to run, he made a mistake… he ran straight toward La Push. I think he already knew where the Cullens lived, and thought the safest thing was to get as far away as possible."
He made a small gesture with his hand, as if he could still visualize the path.
"When he crossed the river, the others felt what I was feeling. Everything linked. All at once. It was like hearing a lot of voices in my head, answering to the same fear I had."
The Romanians listened with predatory fascination. The newborns are tense. Alice frowned slightly, her hand still gripping Nate's arm.
"We all went after him," Jacob continued. "But that vampire was smart and didn't try to fight us… When I reached the rest of the pack, we had him surrounded. He was up in the treetop, desperately trying not to come down."
Jacob's eyes hardened slightly.
"We were there for a few minutes. He was looking for an escape. And when he tried to run… I don't know if he slipped up or I got lucky, but I caught him midair."
A murmur rippled among the newborns. Even Stefan raised a brow, intrigued.
"I couldn't bring him down, he moved too fast… but I did catch his arm."
The silence that followed was dense, vibrating. The vampires processed his words with a mix of astonishment and caution.
Jacob swallowed.
"We got overconfident. And he… he was more determined than we thought. He cut off his own arm to get away. He vanished through the treetops before we could react. We wanted to chase him, but Sam—he was Alpha then—ordered us to stop. We didn't know if he was alone."
He lowered his gaze to the ground, guilt flickering in his expression.
"We couldn't risk more people."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
The tension became almost tangible.
Nate didn't move. He stayed completely still, like a statue on the verge of cracking—or awakening violently. He didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
He was processing.
It looked as if pieces were coming together in his mind, pieces that most of those present weren't even considering.
It was Alistair who broke the silence, his voice suddenly eager, almost desperate:
"You have it? If you kept the arm… I can track him. A part of his body is as unique as his scent. With that, we could find him quickly."
Jacob didn't answer. He looked at Alistair for barely a second, as if weighing whether the man was worth speaking to. Then he dismissed him and turned back to Nate.
Carefully, he opened the linen bag.
Expectation tightened like a string ready to snap.
But he didn't pull out an arm.
Or a bone.
Or anything remotely close.
He only took out a small necklace.
A dark, worn thread.
And a wooden locket carved with the stylized figure of a wolf.
Jacob stepped forward slowly, as if entering Nate's personal space in front of so many vampires might qualify as insanity.
He extended his hand and placed the necklace in Nate's palm.
The gesture was almost symbolic.
A deliverance.
A decision.
Nate blinked—just once—pulled out of the hard, sharp thoughts forming in his mind. He looked down at the locket in his hand… the wood, the details, the familiar and simple carving.
Alice was the first to break the silence with the question everyone had on the tip of their tongue.
"What is that, Jacob?"
The vampire's voice was soft… but tense. Expectant.
Jacob inhaled before answering.