CHAPTER 6
The cold Forks afternoon wrapped the whole place in a darkness that clung to everything. It felt different this time. After the accident at school, Logan was taken to the hospital by Bella.
The doors swung open as Charlie rushed in, worry carved across his face.
"Bella, are you alright?" he said, running straight to her.
Charlie checked her from head to toe: just a small cut on the side of her forehead, covered by an adhesive bandage. He exhaled with relief, but then his gaze shifted forward.
A young man was sitting with the ER doctor.
Logan sat on a hospital bed, his expression serious. Pain was written on his face, but not exaggerated. His wound had been healing on its own for a while now—benefits of being a "failed Quileute." What bothered Logan was people thinking it was abnormal to heal so fast.
"Logan, I'm sorry. I swear I tried to stop. It shouldn't have happened. I'm so sorry!" said Tyler Crow, one of his classmates.
They had spoken a few times before, but not as close as Mike, Angela, Jessica, or Eric.
"Don't worry, Tyler. It's fine," Logan answered without looking at him, teeth clenched.
"No, no, nothing is fine. I almost killed you and Bella," Charlie said as he reached Logan's side, Bella walking with him. "If it wasn't for you, Logan… I don't know what would've happened."
Charlie lowered his gaze, looking back and forth between Bella and Logan.
"I want to thank you and… I'm sorry. For not being there for you. You were just a kid, and your father was a good man."
Charlie's eyes reflected guilt—deep, lingering guilt.
"I want you to know you can count on me. For anything."
Logan met Charlie's eyes: a broken, lonely man—just like him—but someone who never stopped being a good person.
"It's okay, Uncle Charlie. We haven't talked in a long time, but I never stopped seeing you as family," Logan said with one of those smiles only he could pull off to lighten the mood. "I think a good meal would make us even."
Even in situations like this, Logan never lost that strange sense of humor he had.
"And you, young man—say goodbye to your license," Charlie yelled at Tyler, face furious.
"Come on, Charlie! It wasn't his fault. Everything's fine," Logan tried to downplay it. "It could've been worse. Trust me."
"We almost lost you, Logan. Both of you," Charlie muttered, glancing at Bella. "You're never driving again, kid."
While Charlie continued chewing Tyler out, a voice drew their attention.
"I heard the chief's daughter is here…"
They looked up as Dr. Cullen approached. He looked about thirty, blond, almost like a movie star. Incredibly handsome, Logan thought. (Why didn't my gene make me look like that?) His face was kind but tired.
"I'll take over, Jackie," the doctor said, grabbing a file. "Alright, Bella—I've been informed. You're fine. Just a mild concussion."
Carlisle smiled softly, then looked at Logan. His smile shifted—still polite, but… different. He seemed uncomfortable around him.
"You two can step out now," he told Charlie and Bella.
Bella looked at Logan, her face full of worry or doubt, as if she was fighting herself on whether to stay or go. Another voice pushed her out of that hesitation.
"If it's not too much trouble, we'll stay, Dr. Cullen. Logan is important to us. He has no family, and with his arm like that, it's not safe for him to walk alone in the dark," Charlie said quickly, almost like he had assigned himself the role of guardian.
Bella stared at him silently, then gave him a small, pale smile.
Carlisle was surprised. He had wanted to speak with Logan alone.
"That's no problem. I just need to give him a few instructions. If you want, you can sign some papers at reception. Mr. Black will catch up with you."
When Bella and Charlie walked away, the atmosphere changed.
It became tense. Silent. Closed-off.
They stepped away from the other patients.
"It's strange… judging by your results, your physiology is fascinating," Carlisle said, holding images of Logan's injured arm—now nearly healed. "A completely inhuman healing factor."
Logan watched him warily. They both knew they were different.
They spoke in double meanings.
Like two predators locked in the same room…
"Good thing neither of us is human then, huh, Doc?" Logan replied, eyes firm.
No more jokes.
No more courtesy.
Just the observation of two creatures who could kill each other.
"I saw your boy," Logan added. "Edward. He seems to have some kind of obsession with Bella. I noticed. He was there when the accident happened. Ready to act. And then he left without doing anything."
"I assume you know about me. About my tribe," Logan continued, serious. "Don't worry. I got nothing against your kind."
Carlisle studied Logan, choosing his next words carefully.
"May I call you Logan? It's true—we are different. But we do not harm humans. You must know that. And don't worry, I will speak with Edward about… this."
Carlisle touched Logan's arm, and instantly, something changed.
His senses sharpened.
The boy's blood… wasn't normal.
Not human.
Powerful. Ancient. Unsettling.
If Carlisle didn't have centuries of discipline, that scent could've been dangerous.
He pulled his hand away gently, as if he had touched unexpected fire.
Logan noticed.
They both noticed.
"You are… unique," Carlisle admitted—fascinated, cautious. "I'll only ask one thing, Logan. Be careful. Not just for yourself… but for what might be following you."
Logan frowned.
"Following me?"
Carlisle shook his head, regretting saying too much.
"You are different, and you have something I've never felt," Carlisle murmured carefully. "Also…"
Forks is changing.
Movements are happening—things that shouldn't be happening.
You feel it too, don't you?"
Logan thought of the strange scent in the woods that morning.
The feeling of being watched.
"Yeah. I feel it," he answered, remembering the guard who'd been attacked. "Nomads?"
Carlisle nodded, as if Logan's confirmation aligned with something he'd been suspecting for hours.
"You'll have to heal your arm the human way," Carlisle warned, returning to his professional tone. "Keep the bandage. Don't draw attention."
Logan smirked slightly.
"I'm an expert at that."
"I know," Carlisle replied with a smile of his own—though his eyes remained tense. "And Logan… if you notice anything else, anything at all… come to me before acting alone."
When Charlie and Bella returned, Carlisle stepped back, regaining his perfect calm.
"You can take him home," he said. "He just needs rest."
But Logan knew it wasn't just that.
Something was out there.
Something that had already smelled him.
And now sensed him even more clearly.
As he stood up from the bed, a shiver crawled down his spine.
A red, sharp sensation—like fingernails dragging along a wet wall.
A fleeting image crossed his mind.
Red hair.
A soft laugh.
Eyes that weren't human.
Not a vision.
Not imagination.
A warning.
As Logan stepped out of the hospital with Bella and Charlie, the cold Forks air felt different. Thicker. More expectant.
Up in the trees—whe
re the parking lot light couldn't reach—something moved silently.
Something that didn't breathe.
Something that had already chosen him…
To be continued…