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Chapter Text

"No! They are mine!" Lark exclaimed with conviction, planting herself defiantly in her bedroom doorway. With her brow furrowed in a deep frown, she radiated a fierce protectiveness. 

"You're so stingy with your damn cameras!" Katie shot back, her frustration boiling over. She stood just outside the threshold. She attempted to sidestep her sister and invade her sanctuary. "I just want to borrow one for the yearbook! It's not like I'm planning to keep it forever!" 

Lark's grip on the strap of her favorite camera tightened, her fingers digging into the worn leather case that held the treasured vintage model. Katie had always wanted to use Lark's cameras, a necessity born from Forks High's lack of funding for high-tech equipment. Yet, Lark's expression remained unwavering, a mask of determination. "No. Go away, or I'll call Dad up here."

Katie's eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a scowl. "You are such a tattletale." She turned with a whip of red hair and stormed off downstairs, no doubt going to tell their father that Lark was "being a brat again."

Lark swiftly grabbed her well-worn backpack, the fabric slightly frayed at the edges, before casually slinging it over her shoulder. As she made her way down the staircase, the familiar creaking of the wooden steps echoed around her, leading her towards the kitchen.

She entered just as their father, Andrew Marshall, raised his hand to silence his eldest daughter, his face a mixture of exasperation and resolve. Dressed in his Fish and Wildlife Officer uniform, he said firmly, “Katie, I can’t tell her to share her things with you—just as I can’t insist that Lark use your car.”

Katie, her vibrant red hair cascading in soft waves around her shoulders, pouted with a flair for the dramatic, just as she always did. “I just want to borrow it!” she whined, her voice rising with an exaggerated whimper that could almost evoke sympathy.

“No,” their father replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “That’s the end of it. Good morning, Lark. There’s fresh coffee in the pot if you’d like some.” 

Lark smiled warmly, her brown eyes meeting her father's. “Morning, Dad,” she replied, grateful for the comforting aroma of coffee that filled the kitchen despite the tension.

Katie turned her gaze to Lark, a smug smirk dancing on her lips as if she had just won a small victory. “You can take the bus to school,” she teased, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

Lark merely shrugged, unfazed by her sister’s jibes. “Fine,” she said nonchalantly, already accepting the reality of the day ahead. Katie honestly thought that bothered Lark. 

Their father released a deep, exasperated sigh, leaning back against the counters as he rubbed his temples. "Sometimes I wish I had boys instead," he grumbled.. "It would certainly be easier than listening to you bitching every damn mornin'!" He waved his arm, shooing them out the door, "Go on before we are all late."

Lark knew she had hiked far from the trails, and it would take her longer to return to the ranger station. There, her father talked about a bear that had recently ripped through a herd of deer.

Lark quietly maneuvered through the serene, snow-blanketed forest, her gaze fixed intently on the towering tree tops that sparkled like diamonds under the pale winter sun. The crisp air, sharp against her cheeks, was invigorating, yet the thick woolen sweater wrapped around her frame and the snug knit hat perched atop her head offered only modest warmth against the biting chill. Despite the cold nipping at her fingers and nose, she felt a deep sense of purpose and excitement as she searched for the elusive gray-crowned rosy finch. Each careful step she took crunched softly in the fresh snow as her breath mingled with the frosty air, creating small clouds that dissipated before the branches above. 

She listened intently for the distinctive chirps and melodious mating calls that filled the forest during this vibrant season, but instead, Lark was met with a delightful, elongated warble. The sound emanated from a diminutive winter wren, its tiny frame obscured among the dense thicket of the forest understory. Taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of nature, she cautiously settled herself on a snow-laden log, its surface cold and slightly damp beneath her touch. With the soft crunch of snow underfoot, she steadied her camera and captured several photographs. 

Lark's head snapped up; her senses immediately heightened as the area's tranquility shattered with birds' sudden, chaotic dispersal. Their chorus of alarm calls filled the air, a distress cacophony sending shivers down her spine. She watched as a striking red-tailed hawk, its wings spread wide and feathers ruffled, took to the sky, darting away from an unseen threat. With her camera poised, Lark furiously snapped as many photos as possible, each click capturing the moment's urgency.

Peering into the dense thicket from which the birds had fled, she squinted against the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. "What on earth could make all of you terrified like that?" she wondered aloud, curiosity mingling with concern. The rustling of branches and the unsettling silence that followed suggested something was amiss. 

Lark set off in the direction everyone had sprinted, her heart pounding in rhythm with her hurried footsteps. The fresh blanket of snow crunched loudly beneath her boots, a sharp contrast to the forest's silence surrounding her. As she navigated through the snow-draped trees, she soon encountered a short, rugged cliff face rising before her, its surface rugged and frozen. 

She paused momentarily, her breath visible in the frigid air, and quickly kicked the accumulated snow from her boots, the cold biting at her ankles. Gripping the rough, icy rock, she found a sturdy handhold and hoisted herself upward, the muscles in her arms straining with the effort. The thought of the danger lurking nearby gnawed at her—a stupid risk, she acknowledged, but fear pushed her forward. 

What if it was the presence of the bear her father was looking for? Or worse, what if it was a pack of grey wolves ready to defend their territory? The adrenaline coursed through her veins as she climbed higher, determined to uncover the truth behind the chilling sounds that had sent every other animal fleeing.

Lark heaved herself up, reaching the summit with an effort that sent hot puffs of breath swirling into the crisp mountain air. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, a relentless drumbeat underscoring her struggle. It became abundantly clear: rock climbing was not her forte. She sank onto her knees, feeling the rough, cold granite beneath her, and gazed into the distance. There, against the backdrop of the fading winter landscape, a herd of majestic Roosevelt elk moved gracefully, their powerful forms contrasting with the delicate white remnants of snow. They appeared to be foraging, their large, dark muzzles uncovering the tender green grass that dared to sprout through the winter's embrace. 

Lark sprang to her feet, adrenaline surging through her veins as she dashed toward the tangled dead underbrush, her senses heightened in anticipation of the predator lurking nearby. The forest held its breath, shrouded in an eerie silence that amplified the rapid thump of her heartbeat and the quick, shallow breaths escaping her lips. In the distance, she could hear the deep, resonant grunts of elk. The chill of the air wrapped around her like a damp blanket, seeping through the fibers of her sweater, making her shiver involuntarily as the cold bit into her skin. 

It could have been seconds or minutes; she wasn't sure, but when all the elk froze and snapped their heads toward the north, she held her breath. 

It emerged with startling abruptness, as though conjured from thin air. Two elk collapsed onto the frost-kissed ground. Their desperate, echoing cries were abruptly silenced, abruptly extinguished by the shadowy figures of two men snapping their necks with their bare hands. The other elk bolted, and Lark quickly pulled her camera to her face, snapping two pictures as they faced her, following the herd. 

Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of Jasper Hale and Edward Cullen, two strikingly handsome boys from the grade above hers. Their presence was captivating, but her attention quickly shifted as she realized the elk herd was charging directly toward her. Panic surged through her as she ducked her head, her arms instinctively shielding her face. She braced herself for the impact, feeling the rush of wind from the animals’ powerful strides. Just as the first elk soared over her, one of its massive antlered companions collided with her, slamming its hard hoof into the side of her head. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through her, leaving her dazed and disoriented. 

Lark slowly blinked her eyes open, her gaze falling upon the untouched expanse of white snow that lay all around her, now starkly blemished by crimson droplets of her blood. A low groan escaped her lips as a sharp throb pulsed through her head, and she realized something cold and unyielding was propping her up. Her vision was a haze, exacerbated by the glaring brightness of the snow and the blinding sky that blurred together in a dizzying whirl. As her senses began to sharpen, she caught sight of Jasper Hale—a striking figure with his honey-blonde hair tousled by the cold breeze and those captivating gold eyes that seemed to flicker with concern and determination.

"Carlise...," Edward’s voice, smooth and velvety, penetrated the haze surrounding Lark, ". . . she saw us!" 

Lark fought to keep her eyelids from succumbing to exhaustion, but her thoughts felt like they were swimming in a thick fog. The last vivid image that lingered in her mind was her firm grip on her camera, its strap cutting into her wrist as she captured the fleeting moment. The world around her blurred into shadows, and the sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else.

Chapter Text

Jasper sprinted with every ounce of strength he had, making a conscious effort to keep the girl from being crushed against his chest. Just ahead of him, Edward carved a path through the thick layer of snow, his feet expertly plowing through the drifts as they dashed toward the warmth of their home. The world around them transformed into a blur of white, the pristine snow sparkling like diamonds under the pale winter sun, while the towering evergreens stood sentinel, their branches heavy with frosted snow. The fleeting shadows of the elusive prey darted in and out of view, adding urgency to their race. Each breath was a crisp inhale of cold air, sharp and invigorating, as adrenaline coursed through him, propelling them onward.

"Jasper, hold your breath!" Edward commanded, his voice laced with urgency. Yet, Jasper remained unfazed by the crimson rivulets cascading from her temple and into her red hair. Instead, he was entranced by the underlying fragrance that wafted through the air—red apples, sweetened with cinnamon, and cedarwood's rich, earthy scent. It was a nostalgic aroma from his human days, when the crisp winter air was filled with the warm, inviting smell of spiced cider bubbling gently on the wood-burning stove. His mother would carefully prepare it, using cedar logs that his father had meticulously chopped, infusing their home with a cozy atmosphere that echoed the joys of the holiday season. She smelled like home.

He could see her eyes fluttering open just a fraction, accompanied by a faint intake of breath that filled the quiet space around them. A flicker of recognition sparked in his mind; she was a familiar figure from the halls of Forks High School. He recalled her frequent afternoons in the library, surrounded by a lively group of friends, her laughter bubbling like a gentle stream. More vividly, he remembered her distinctive presence as she strolled through town, camera always poised in her hands, capturing the beauty of everyday life in Forks. He rifled through his memories, recalling the moment her photograph had captured the judges' attention, securing her victory in the school's wildlife photography contest. The image had been striking—a testament to her talent and deep appreciation for the natural world surrounding their small town.

“Carlisle!” Edward shouted, his voice echoing through the dense foliage as they emerged from the looming treeline that framed their home. The air was charged with urgency, and within moments, their concerned mother and father were by their side, eyes alight with worry. 

“What happened?” Esme asked, her voice laced with anxiety. 

“We were hunting, and…she was out there. An elk ran into her head!” Edward exclaimed frantically, recalling the chaos of the forest.

“Take her to my office, quickly,” Carlisle commanded, her tone authoritative yet tinged with a sense of urgency that tugged at the edges of his calm demeanor.

“She saw us! She knows!” Edward shot back. The gravity of the situation hung in the air like a storm cloud, thick and heavy.

Standing tall and composed amidst the chaos, their father regarded Edward with a steady, measured gaze. “I heard you the first time, Edward,” he replied, his voice a calm anchor. "Right now, I can only treat her like any other patient. What is her name?"

"Lark. Lark Marshall." Rosalie said suddenly, "Her father is a wildlife officer."

Esme nodded, "I'll call him and let him know." 

Jasper stepped into Carlisle's office, where the personal library stretched out before him, a sprawling expanse adorned with rich, dark wood that emanated warmth and a sense of nostalgia. The shelves, filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes and ancient texts, hinted at Jasper's countless hours in this sanctuary of knowledge, engaging in deep discussions about history with his father. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and polished wood. He laid Lark on the leather couch. "Is she alright?"

"Her heart rate is slightly elevated, but there’s no cause for alarm,” Carlisle reassured, his voice steady as he retrieved his penlight from his pocket. He gently lifted Lark’s eyelids, scrutinizing her pupils. “They’re responding to light, which indicates she has a mild concussion. We need to wait—it’s only a matter of time until she regains consciousness.” He paused, glancing over at the worried expression on Jasper's face. “Why don’t you go grab her a blanket and a pillow? I’ll take care of cleaning her up in the meantime.”

Jasper ambled down the dimly lit hallway toward his room, his footsteps echoing softly on the wooden floor. He felt the weight of the situation settling in as he reached for the cozy knitted blanket and fluffy pillow that awaited him. Just as he turned to leave, Esme appeared in the doorway. 

“Let me take it,” she offered, her voice firm yet gentle. Jasper’s brow knitted together in confusion as he caught her pointed gaze directed at his hands. Then he noticed dark, sticky elk remnants splattered across his palms and forearms. “You need to clean up,” she added, a hint of exasperation in her tone. Before she left, he felt a warm sense of pride come from her, "You did very well handling her."

"I wasn't even thinking about her blood. Only her scent."

Esme's honey-colored eyes sparkled with curiosity, their warmth reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. "Oh?" she asked, her voice a melodic lilt that hinted at intrigue. 

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Jasper shot her a playful warning. "Don't get any ideas, mother. She just smelled nice," he replied, trying to mask the hint of amusement in his tone.

Esme offered a knowing smile, her demeanor exuding a gentle confidence. "Sure, of course, dear," she said, her words laced with an undercurrent of mischief, before gliding out of the room.

Jasper stepped into the confines of his bathroom, the air thick with steamy anticipation. He peeled off his shirt, now clinging uncomfortably to his skin, a damp reminder of the day’s heat. With a gentle twist of the knob, he summoned the shower, letting the scalding water surge forth. As it cascaded down, he welcomed the warmth, eager to banish the coolness that clung to his marble-cold skin. The steam enveloped him as he grabbed his body wash, and the scent of floral leather enveloped the warm, steamy room. 

“Jasper!” Alice’s voice, a delicate chime filled with concern, echoed from the doorway, her usual cheerfulness momentarily overshadowed by worry. “I should have warned you, but I didn’t see her coming.”

“It’s fine,” Jasper replied, his gaze fixated on the swirling crimson liquid vanishing down the drain. “I got her to Carlisle in time.” 

“But I saw…” Alice began, her voice trailing off as her eyes widened. The vivid images flashed through her mind, flickering back and forth like a film reel, piecing together a glimpse of what lay ahead. Suddenly, realization dawned upon her, and her tone shifted dramatically—excitement sparked in her voice. “Oh… OH! This is incredible!” Her eyes gleamed with a newfound fervor as she locked onto the possibilities the vision had unveiled, forgetting the earlier tension in the air. She was like a kid on Christmas morning. 

"Care to share?" Jasper asked with a playful chuckle, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

Alice playfully stuck her tongue out at him, her excitement barely contained. "No! It’s not time yet, but you’ll be so happy!" With that, she dashed away, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody. She was clearly racing off to share her thrilling revelation with Carlisle, her eyes alive with the secret she couldn't yet reveal. The anticipation hung in the air, leaving Jasper intrigued and eager as he tried to guess what surprise was in store.

Suddenly, while drying off, a piercing scream shattered the house's calm, echoing from the office with an urgency that sent a chill down his spine. In an instant, he hastily slipped into a pair of well-worn jeans and a loose shirt, heart racing, before darting into the chaotic scene. There, Lark was in a frenzy, her wild eyes ablaze with anger as she flung books, cushions, and anything else within reach at Edward, who stood amidst the storm, his expression a mix of concern and determination as he attempted to soothe her fierce emotions.

"We aren't going to hurt you!" Edward called out desperately, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, even as objects crashed against him with thuds that echoed in the dimly lit room. His eyes darted around anxiously, scanning the chaos unfolding around them. Jasper, standing beside him, shot a glance at their father, who lingered in the shadows of the corner, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"You-You killed an elk three times your weight with your bare hands, and you're telling me you're not going to hurt me!" Lark attempted to throw Carlisle's father's bible, but their father plucked it out of the air. 

"Jasper, if you would," Carlisle muttered too low for Lark to hear. 

Jasper released his power with effortless ease, filling the room with a serene and comforting energy that enveloped everyone like a warm blanket. As his aura spread, Lark’s rigid posture began to soften, the anxiety etched across her features gradually easing. Yet she remained a cautious distance away from the men, her arms crossed tightly against her stomach in a defensive gesture. Her eyes flitted nervously from one face to another, darting like a startled bird searching for an escape. 

"Could someone please explain to me what I just witnessed?!" Lark exclaimed, her voice tinged with exasperation as she paced the room, her hands running through her tousled hair. 

"Would you please sit down?" Carlisle urged gently, gesturing towards the plush couch, but she shook her head vehemently, her wide eyes still darting around the dimly lit room in search of answers. "I understand how disorienting this must be."

Lark's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Really? I was just out in the fresh air, taking pictures of birds—" Her words trailed off as panic washed over her. "Where is my camera?!" she cried, suddenly alarmed.

"It must still be on the mountain," Edward replied, his voice calm, attempting to ground her.

"No! No! I spent months slinging coffee at the cafe to afford that! It's an 1985 Minolta Maxxum 7000—an original!" she exclaimed, the weight of her loss hitting her like a cold wave. With a frustrated huff, she plopped down on the couch, her shoulders slumping as she lamented, "This is not happening!"

Carlisle cleared his throat, the tension in the room palpable. "Getting worked up won’t aid your injury. We called your father, and he will arrive soon, but what you saw—"

"That your kids aren't human?! Yeah, I grasped that!" Lark interrupted, her voice rising again as she met Carlisle's steady gaze. "But how on earth is that even possible? What are you?" Her intense stare landed on Jasper, who shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

"Vampires." The word slipped from Jasper's lips before he could think to hold it back, the gravity of the confession hanging heavily in the air as Edward shot him a warning glance. The fear erupted like a volcano. Lark's breath quickened, and Jasper attempted to calm her, but even he was finding it difficult. Well, this is going well. 

"Jasper, you know we can't tell her the truth--" 

"She saw us," Jasper replied, his voice low and urgent, as his eyes shifted to Carlisle, filled with an unsettling mixture of concern and defiance. "Why should we lie and manipulate her into believing something that she saw?"

Edward interjected, his brow furrowing with worry, "But she could tell someone—"

"I am sitting right here!" Lark snapped, her tone sharp and piercing as she pointedly glared at them, "What the hell do you mean by vampire?! Are you saying you drink blood and have fangs?"

Carlisle let out a long, weary sigh, the weight of countless secrets heavy on his shoulders. "Not the fangs, Lark," he explained gently, "but we are indeed different from most of our kind. We don't drink human blood, as you witnessed during my sons' hunting."

Jasper noticed the echo of a car door slamming shut, signaling Andrew Marshall's, “Your father is here,” he called out to her.. 

Lark sprang up from the couch, her eyes wide with urgency, but Edward quickly caught her arm before she could dash out the door. “You can’t tell anyone,” he whispered, the intensity in his gaze stopping her in her tracks.

Lark’s frustration bubbled over, and she hissed defiantly, “I don’t care about you or your insane family! Dad! DAD!” Her voice rang out, desperate and piercing, as her father’s footsteps echoed up the staircase.

“Lark, honey! Are you alright?” Andrew’s voice was filled with concern, his tall frame silhouetted against the hallway light. Short brown hair framed his strong features, and his muscular build was evident as he bounded up the stairs. His eyes instinctively landed on Edward’s grip around his daughter’s arm, prompting Edward to release her immediately. Lark bolted into her father’s embrace, finding solace in his protective presence.

“Dr. Cullen, what happened?” Andrew’s brows furrowed as he brushed Lark’s tousled hair back, his expression darkening as he spotted the stitched cut crisscrossing her forehead.

“Lark was up in the mountains. My sons were out hunting and found her. She suffered a mild concussion and may experience some confusion and a headache,” Carlisle explained, his voice steady. 

Andrew’s heart sank as he looked at his daughter, “Damn it, kid. You feeling okay?” He barely touched her bandaged head.

Lark nestled closer, the warmth of her father's arms soothing her. “I just wanna go home,” she murmured, fatigue creeping into her voice.

Carlisle offered a gentle smile, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “I suggest she not go to school tomorrow, but that’s up to her.” He paused, his demeanor softening further. “If you feel worse, please call me.”

Jasper scanned the surroundings where Lark had been, his gaze lingering on the delicate snow boot prints etched into the untouched white blanket. They led away from the small clearing, where the unmistakable, comforting scent of cinnamon still hung in the air like a whisper from her presence, sharp and inviting against the crisp winter chill. His golden eyes traced the track of her steps as they ascended the rugged cliff face. "She came up this way. She hikes up here a lot from what I see."

“What exactly are we looking for?” Rosalie’s voice cut through the serene silence, tinged with annoyance. “At least she smells better than Bella.” 

With a slight shake of his head, Jasper chose to overlook her snide remark, his focus sharpening. “A camera. A vintage one, apparently,” he replied. 

"Why do you even care?" His sister questioned, her voice echoing against the rugged stone as she began the arduous climb up the cliff face, fingers finding purchase in the rough texture. Jasper trailed behind, concern etched on his features. "Please tell me this isn't another Bella situation."

"I genuinely believe she wants nothing to do with us," Jasper replied, his tone laced with a blend of honesty and apprehension.

Rosalie let out a dismissive snort, the sound mingling with the whispering wind. "And she's far more intelligent than Bella. I already like her.” They both dusted snow off their pants as they looked toward the treeline. "I smell her blood from here."

Jasper trailed the intoxicating aroma of cinnamon and apples, his senses alight with the sweet-spicy fragrance that danced through the crisp air. He crouched low, pushing aside the brittle, dead brush that crackled beneath his hands, his heart racing with anticipation. "I can't find it," he muttered, shifting his gaze to the forest floor, where the snow played tricks in the dappled sunlight.

"Did she have it in her hand when you took her to the house?" Rosalie called from a few paces ahead as she scanned the undergrowth. Jasper shook his head. Rosalie sighed, "An animal could have carried it off."

"I don’t catch any other scents," he replied.

"How could you?" she replied, frustration flashing in her eyes as she cast a glance back at him, pointing at the blood-speckled ground. "Just buy another one and give it to her."

Jasper's voice rumbled with frustration, his brow furrowing deeply as he shot a glare at Rosalie. "That's not the point, Rose," he insisted. Carlisle was already upset for telling their secret. Edward wouldn't even talk to him, and Esme was packing the house up. Before they left, he had to do this one thing right.

With a dramatic huff, Rose crossed her arms, her irritation palpable as she rolled her eyes. "Ugh, fine," she conceded, exhaling sharply. "We will keep looking!" 

Chapter Text

"Only you could knock yourself out in the middle of nowhere," Katie remarked, settling herself cross-legged on Lark's daybed. Her tone, devoid of its typical snark, held an unexpected softness, a hint of genuine concern lacing her words as if she wondered whether Lark could decipher it. 

Lark's room, in contrast to her older sister's, was a cozy sanctuary, smaller yet bursting with personality. The pastel pink walls, adorned with delicate white rose wallpaper, enveloped the space gently. Lark had cleverly countered the sweetness of the decor with rich, dark green blankets draped over her bed, echoing the lushness of a forest. Nature art prints, carefully selected from the library, adorned the walls, bringing a touch of the wild indoors, creating a charming blend of tranquility and creativity.

"You almost sound worried," Lark said with a faint smile. Her head was still throbbing as the evening shadows deepened outside, creeping through the fabric of her curtains. 

"Of course I'm worried!" Katie frowned, her brow furrowing with concern. "I can't have you collapsing right before prom!" 

Lark rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not even going to prom, Katie." 

Katie's gaze turned steely, her expression unyielding. "You need to experience prom at least once! Just once." 

Lark shrugged, feeling the weight of her reality. "There's always junior and senior prom, but this year doesn't feel right. I'm failing history for one."

Katie groaned, "Whatever. Fine. Just don't die before prom." Lark watched as her older sister exited her room, closing the door behind her.

Lark pulled at her red curls, wondering how she got into all this. Were the Cullens vampires? That would explain all their gold eyes, even if they were adopted, or why Dr. Cullen even adopted them in the first place. They all had an almost inhuman beauty, especially Rosalie. Edward was pretty too, in a broody way. 

"You can't tell anyone." Edwards' words echoed in her head. Lark knew even if she did tell anyone, they would think she was insane. Then Carlisle's words came to her, "We don't drink human blood... as you witnessed."

So, they hunted elk, not humans? She wondered. That made her stomach queasy. She knew that when her dad went hunting and took her with him, the smell of iron and the warmth of it were a reminder of the butchering process. Her dad hunted to feed them, so it wasn't so bad, but they used the meat and sold the fur... not the blood. The memory of Jasper Hale taking the elk's antlers and just snapping its neck. . . the way blood ran down his forearms and hands. 

"You are so not thinking about how good-looking he was slaughtering an animal! Gross, Lark!" She muttered to herself. She settled down in bed, snuggling into her pillow as she watched the sky grow darker and darker, "Tomorrow is going to suck."

Jasper's low growl reverberated around the table, punctuating the tense atmosphere thick with unspoken fears and simmering emotions. “What else was I supposed to do?!” he exclaimed, frustrated. Each of his family members sat in silence, a whirlwind of feelings swirling within them. Esme's warm, motherly concern radiated from her like a soft glow, while Edward's fury crackled in the air, sharp and electric.

“Anything else,” Edward snapped, his voice sharp and laced with impatience, “but the word ‘vampire’!” 

Jasper’s frustration surged within him like a storm ready to break. “So your human gets to fire questions at will—”

“Leave Bella out of this!” Edward hissed, his eyes smoldering with intensity, like molten amber caught in a fierce blaze. The tension in the room thickened as Jasper’s anger flared, and the table groaned ominously under the strain of his sudden movement.

"It wasn't Lark's fault she found us!" Jasper’s voice was thick with indignation, a fierce protector rising from within him.

"Jasper is right, Edward," Esme interjected gently, her soothing tone a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere, "It wasn’t anyone’s fault." 

Jasper stood resolute, his jaw clenched tight as he stared Edward down, unyielding. “Fair is fair. I didn’t kill Bella, and you won’t kill Lark.”

Alice, ever watchful, made a slight noise, her eyes dancing between the two males with a flicker of concern. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Lark,” she finally said, her voice soft yet urgent. “And she’s not going to tell anyone.” 

“Why do you care so much, Jasper?” Edward huffed, an edge of sarcasm creeping into his voice. “Is it because she smells like home?” 

The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, each second stretching with unspoken thoughts and fierce loyalties. The deep growl in Jasper's chest crept from his throat. 

"Enough," Carlisle said firmly, rising from his seat with an air of authority. His gaze swept across the room, landing on Jasper, whose troubled expression betrayed his inner turmoil. "It’s clear to me that Jasper has developed deep feelings for Lark. Edward, you must promise not to stand in the way of that connection. Perhaps Bella could reach out to Lark, reassure her of our intentions—we mean her no harm."

Rosalie, ever the voice of skepticism, leaned back in her chair, her brow furrowed in discontent. "So, we’re just going to force this girl into our lives?" she countered, her tone laced with disbelief. "She’s already expressed a desire to distance herself from us. Why not let her have her peace?"

Jasper shifted his gaze to his hands, tracing the crescent-shaped scars that adorned his arms like painful reminders of a past he couldn't escape. He sighed heavily, the weight of his heart reflected in his demeanor. "Rose is right," he admitted softly, sinking back into his chair, a shadow of resignation passing over him. "If she chooses to seek us out, then Bella can step in to talk to her. But perhaps it’s best if we let her be."

The school day dragged on like molasses, each minute stretching endlessly as Jasper's thoughts fixated on Lark. He wandered through the bustling hallways, searching for a trace of her unique scent amidst the cacophony of students. In his history class, he tuned into Katie Marshall’s voice, her laughter ringing like a melodic chime. Observing her closely, he noted how Lark's hair possessed a more subdued hue of red compared to her sister's vibrant locks, which sparkled like fiery embers. The difference in their scents was striking—Katie exuded a sweet, floral aroma reminiscent of delicate apple blossoms. At the same time, he cherished a memory of Lark's warm, spicy fragrance, reminiscent of rich apple cider simmering on a cool autumn day.

“. . . Jasper and Edward Cullen rescued your sister?!” Mike Newton exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. Jasper, deeply engrossed in the pages of his book, let the words wash over him, though he could feel Mike's curious gaze lingering in his direction. 

“That’s what my dad said,” Katie murmured, her voice low so Jasper couldn't hear. “Dr. Cullen examined her and everything.” She continued, “Lark got into a huge argument with my dad about going to school. She never listens, anyway. He warned her repeatedly not to wander into the woods alone, and now look where we are.”

"They don't talk to anyone. They were hunting? Hunting what?" Eric asked.

"Cougars." Katie shrugged, "Only big game in season right now."

Jasper carefully tucked away the information for future reference. He and Edward had taken on the unexpected role of hunters. The thought sparked a barrage of questions in his mind—did that mean they would need to acquire hunting licenses and firearms? A heavy sigh escaped him at the realization; this was just fantastic.

As Jasper settled into the bustling atmosphere of the school, he realized that Lark was tucked away in a classroom somewhere, surrounded by the hum of academic life. He strained to listen through the cacophony of scribbling pencils on crisp paper and the lively chatter of students exchanging stories and laughter, but the chaos made it nearly impossible to focus. With a sigh, he began to pack his bag, carefully stowing away his books and notes. It dawned on him that lunch would be his only opportunity to sneak a moment with Lark. 

"I saw your little bird," Rosalie remarked, her voice light yet laced with an edge as they converged at his locker, the clanking of metal punctuating the air. "Alive and well. She didn't even bother to glance my way."

Jasper clenched his jaw, the tension radiating through him like a charged electric current. "She's not mine," he retorted, forcing the words out as if they were a heavy weight.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, a sound of exasperation escaping her lips. "Oh, come on. I totally knew this would turn into another Bella situation. What is it about humans that makes them so attractive?" Her disdain hung in the air, causing a chill to creep along his spine.

With a deep, resigned sigh, Jasper leaned against the cold metal of the locker, the weight of her words settling heavily on his chest. "It's not that I ever paid attention to her before, Rose. We just... I don't know!" His voice trailed off, the frustration swirling within him like a storm yet to break.

“Then why the sudden urgency for—”  

“I don’t know!” he erupted, his frustration palpable. He slammed his locker shut with a ferocious impact, the metal groaning in protest as it bent under the force. Students in the corridor paused mid-conversation, their eyes wide with shock and curiosity, as they witnessed the spectacle unfolding before them, "Fuck."

"Jesus, it's not that serious." Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's go see the little bird so you can calm down."

Lark sat with her friends on the far side of the bustling cafeteria, a vivid sense of camaraderie enveloping them as they talked about what had happened to her head. She wore a long cardigan and jeans. The wound on her head was bandaged, covering the nasty slash. The clattering of trays and the hum of conversation faded into the background as Nicole Casey leaned closer, her brow furrowed in a conspiratorial expression.

Across the room, at the Cullen table, Edward observed Lark intently, a knowing frown playing on his lips. "Her mind keeps going to us," he remarked, effortlessly reading her mind.

"But she's not saying anything," Alice chimed in, her voice laced with a triumphant grin that danced at the corners of her mouth.

Jasper, sitting beside Alice, reached out with his ability, extending an invisible tendril of his gift toward Lark. He sought to grasp the tumult of emotions swirling within her mind when she thought about them—was it fear that gripped her heart, a shudder of disgust, or perhaps a deep-rooted hatred? 

Lark was tired and in pain. She had a headache, and Jasper felt the bone-deep tiredness seeping through his body. He felt guilty. If he or Edward had been quicker--

"Don't put that on me." Edward snapped. 

“Maybe Bella should talk to her,” Emmett murmured, his voice low and conspiratorial. “She could start poking around—”

“And discover what, exactly?” Jasper interjected, his brows furrowing. “That Carlisle is over three centuries old? It’s not like that changes anything.”

Edward’s sharp gaze flicked toward Jasper. “You’re unusually testy today, and it’s putting everyone on edge.” As he spoke, the atmosphere in the cafeteria thickened, the noise surging like a swarm of agitated bees, fueled by the tension in Jasper's shoulders.

Jasper inhaled deeply, grounding himself as he summoned his inner strength, striving to regain control. The cacophony around him faded almost immediately, swallowed by the rhythm of his steady breath. When he finally opened his dark amber eyes, they locked onto Lark's from across the room. Her brows were furrowed. 

"She's curious if you were the one responsible for that," Edward murmured quietly, his voice barely cutting through the lingering tension.

Jasper gave a slight nod, the movement barely perceptible, but it made Lark's eyes widen in shock before she quickly turned away, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

"She’s… I’m not repeating that," Edward stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. If he were capable of blushing, one could imagine him being as red as the setting sun. 

“Prude,” Rosalie scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically before gliding effortlessly over to the human girl. “The little bird is leaving,” she remarked. 

Jasper's eyes followed Lark as she weaved through the tables, then he straightened when he realized she was headed toward them. She came to a stop a few feet away from them. Embarrassment and nervousness radiated from her. 

"My dad wanted me to invite your family over for a cookout on Saturday, as a thank you," Lark murmured, taking a tentative step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced down at her fidgeting hands, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension in the room.

"And you think that's a good idea?" Edward's response was sharp, an edge of concern lacing his words. Jasper, seated nearby, instinctively kicked Edward's shin under the table, a silent plea for calm. The unsettling crack of stone echoed faintly as Lark jumped in surprise, her heart racing.

"I told my dad I would ask," she continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm a lousy liar; he would see right through me." She wrapped her arms defensively around herself, the gesture betraying her unease. "I don’t know if you can eat regular food—"

"We can't," Alice interjected with a bright smile that seemed to light up the room. "But we would absolutely love to join you! We pretend all the time. It will be so much fun! I just know it!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, wrapping Jasper in a warm wave of excitement that began to ease his earlier worries.

"Alice," Rosalie snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife, but the small vampire merely ignored her sister's disapproval, excitement bubbling over like a pot on a stove left to boil.

Springing to her feet, Alice grasped Lark's hands in her own, the coldness of her touch sending a shiver through the human. "I think you and Rosalie will become wonderful friends," she declared, her eyes sparkling with mischief and hope.

Lark winced at the implications of Alice's words, a chill running through her as Jasper sensed the unease radiating from her. "Alice. Enough," he urged gently, a subtle reminder of the delicate balance they all had to maintain.

Jasper rose to his feet, positioning himself protectively between the vampire and the human. "I’m sorry about her; she tends to get a bit overexcited," he said, glancing back at the vampiric presence beside him. Lark took a cautious half-step back, her brow furrowing slightly. “I understand you’re feeling on edge,” she replied, trying to maintain a calm exterior.

Lark couldn’t stifle a scoff as she crossed her arms defensively. “Sure, you do. Look, I’m not here to stir up trouble,” she insisted, her voice steady but laced with underlying tension.

Jasper, with his warm demeanor, offered her a gentle smile that radiated reassurance. “I never thought you would,” he replied sincerely. His gaze softened as he observed her, concern flickering in his eyes. “Are you feeling alright? How’s your head?”

Lark met his gaze, a flicker of confusion crossing her features before she let out a resigned sigh. As she exhaled, the knot of tension within her began to loosen. “I have a headache, but honestly, I’ll be fine,” she admitted, her voice softening. 

"We would be honored to join you and your family for dinner." Jasper said, "I would like to apologize fully if we scared you."

Lark raised her gaze, locking eyes with Jasper’s molten amber orbs that seemed to flicker with a blend of surprise and concern. “I really don’t have the energy for all of this,” she confessed, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she swept her hand in a broad arc toward his entire family, an ornate display of vampiric elegance. “Honestly, the whole vampire saga isn’t exactly occupying a prime spot on my list of priorities right now.”

Jasper’s eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hurt flooding his expression. “What? You don’t care?”

With a short, bitter laugh, Lark shook her head incredulously. “I’m failing history. Like, catastrophically. At this rate, I won’t even make it to junior year.” Her shoulders sagged with the weight of her worries. “My dad is clocking sixteen-hour shifts, grinding himself into dust just to provide for us, and you seriously think your supernatural drama ranks anywhere near the top of my list?” She let out a scoff, her tone laced with sarcasm and frustration. “Definitely not.”

“See?! I told you she wouldn’t say anything,” Alice exclaimed with a bright grin, her excitement evident as she bounced on her toes like a child anticipating a surprise. 

Lark shot her a puzzled glance, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Saturday, 2 p.m. Bring some kind of dish, if you can manage,” she reminded. With a dismissive shake of her head at Alice, she turned away, her footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor of the cafeteria. As she strode out, a quiet murmur escaped her lips—an offhand comment about needing a tutor, her words heavy with the anxiety of looming finals and the pressure to achieve a passing grade for the year.

Chapter Text

Jasper sat at his antique desk in his study, a worn leather-bound book resting open before him, though his eyes struggled to focus on the text. The muffled sounds of Emmett and Rosalie’s passionate encounter echoed from across the hall, their moans and growls punctuating the otherwise serene atmosphere. He had tried to immerse himself in the pages, yet each noise cut through his concentration like a knife. The pulsating beat of the music in his earbuds helped to drown out the sound, but the emotions it stirred within him—intense love intertwined with unbridled desire—were inescapable.

With a heavy sigh, Jasper rose from his chair and made his way to the kitchen, where he found Esme gently arranging a vibrant bouquet of wildflowers. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air, mixing with delicate notes of citrus from the large fruit bowl on the counter. “Are you alright, Jasper?” Esme asked softly, her warm, motherly tone wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. “Are you excited about seeing Lark tomorrow? I think I might have gone overboard with the food. I’m unsure how much humans eat these days.”

Esme had immersed herself in her new culinary passion, purchasing twenty cookbooks filled with colorful pictures and enticing recipes. She had meticulously studied each one, her brow furrowed in concentration, before determining what would be appropriate for their outdoor cookout. Jasper couldn’t help but smirk at the thought; Texas barbecues were worlds apart from the traditional cookouts she had researched.

“We can always donate the leftovers to the homeless shelter,” Jasper suggested, his voice steady but laced with a hint of amusement. The thought of their excess turning into someone else's meal seemed to ease his mind, a practical solution to his mother’s culinary quandary.

"Bella mentioned to Edward that she and Chief Swan were going to be there. Apparently, this is a monthly thing; the police and game wardens come together for this cookout." Esme mentioned and started to polish the silverware that was Esme's mother's wedding gift. 

Jasper sighed, "I'll make sure I'm overly fed." 

Esme set down the spoon she held and rubbed his cheek, "I'll go with you. It's been a while since we've been hunting together."

He nodded, "I'd like that." 

Lark and Andrew Marshall settled into a cozy corner table at The Lodge, the warm ambiance of the restaurant creating a welcoming atmosphere. Lark sipped on her Sprite and set it back down on the rustic wooden table. With her friends off on a weekend adventure to Port Angeles, Katie had opted out of family dinner, leaving Andrew to savor a meal with his younger daughter.

As a perfectly cooked steak was placed in front of him, steaming and succulent, Andrew glanced over at Lark with curiosity. "So, how are the Cullen boys treating you?" he began, his tone a blend of fatherly concern and mild interest. 

Lark let out a soft snort, her eyes rolling playfully. "I guess they're fine. I mean, I don't even really know them, Dad." She sliced into her steak, revealing a warm, slightly pink interior that was juicy and delicious.

Andrew continued, a sense of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Well, that youngest one seems to be shadowing Chief Swan's girl quite a bit." He paused thoughtfully, "Which one was that again?"

"Edward," Lark replied, her fork still poised in mid-air as she regarded her father with a bemused expression.

With a nod of recognition, Andrew added, "Right, right—Edward. And the blonde one is... Jared?"

"Jasper," she interjected smoothly, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips as she appreciated her father’s earnest effort to keep track of her social life, "Are you trying to memorize their names for tomorrow's gathering?" 

In Forks, Washington, everyone knew that Andrew Marshall wasn’t considered the sharpest tool in the shed, but nobody dared cross him. He might not grasp the intricacies of art or appreciate the allure of fancy cars, but he possessed an uncanny ability to track deer for miles and had the raw strength to subdue a cougar with his bare hands if necessary. While the townsfolk often labeled him a hick and a backwater boy, Andrew didn’t let their opinions bother him. His daughters were his world, and he would go to great lengths to ensure they had anything and everything they ever desired. 

His eyes flickered with a hint of embarrassment as he caught her affectionate gaze, and he swallowed a mouthful of steak with a slight cough. "Yeah, hadn’t really paid too much attention until now. But I know Dr. Cullen now. Carlisle Cullen."

"His wife is Esme," Lark chuckled, her tone lightening the moment. "Then you’ve got Emmet, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice, and Edward." 

Andrew muttered the names under his breath, repeating them as if they were an incantation to cement them in his memory. "Alright. Katie invited her horde of miscreants. But what about you? Why don’t you invite that boy you were so close with over the summer? The one from the Reservation."

“Paul?” Lark replied, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the question before letting out a soft sigh. “Eh, I think that was just a summer fling, Dad.” 

Andrew held up his hands in mock surrender, but there was a serious undertone in his voice. "Alright, I’ll back off, but come on, kid. Katie is dating and all that. You haven’t shown any interest in anyone since Paul, and even then, it wasn’t really dating. You two would just hike the beaches searching for rare birds and stuff. No dinners, no movies." He emphasized the words, disappointment etched on his face as if those experiences defined what dating should be. 

"I’m not exactly the dinner-and-movie type, Dad," she reminded him, her voice steady as she met his gaze. 

He nodded slowly, understanding but not entirely satisfied. "Yeah, I know, but some boy has to capture your attention eventually."

Lark scoffed playfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'll be the first to know when one actually shows up." 

Andrew leaned back in his chair, a warm smile spreading across his face as he took a sip of his sweet tea. "Good to hear! So, are we planning to go hog hunting this summer?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, her exasperation laced with affection. "Dad, we might need to find you another hobby. By the time I graduate, our house is going to look like some sort of wildlife museum."

The deadpan expression on her father's face elicited a giggle from her lips, and she felt the familiar comfort of their banter. Andrew took another sip of his tea, his demeanor shifting slightly. "Don't joke about how I provide for you and your sister."

"I would never, Dad." Lark leaned into him, resting her head against his sturdy shoulder, the warmth of his presence wrapping around her like a cherished blanket. "You know you'll always have me around, right? After Katie heads off to California and marries some big shot, I'll still be right here."

She felt the gentle scratch of his beard tickling her forehead as he chuckled softly. "Just promise me you won’t get stuck here, Lark. I’m not worth it. One day I’ll be in the ground, and then what will you do?"

Lark shrugged, her voice thoughtful. "Who knows? Maybe I'll find a nice town boy to settle down with. Start a family of my own, have a few kids running around."

Andrew burst out laughing, the sound rich and hearty. "Oh, the poor boy wouldn't stand a chance with you, sweetheart. I barely handle your sass, and he would have no idea what to do with a girl who won't even put up with my bullshit. Let alone let him think he can boss you around."

Lark snuggled closer to him, "Love you, old man."

"Love you too, sweetheart. Now, how about some chocolate cake? I'm feeling a little pickish still."

"Damn it, Katie! Get out of the bathroom!" Lark pounded on the door, her impatience boiling over as she tapped her foot on the tiled floor. She desperately needed to wash off the remnants of her hectic morning before their guests arrived. She could hear Katie inside, taking her sweet time, fussing over her hair and makeup for what felt like the hundredth time since learning the Cullens would be in attendance.

"I'm almost done!" Katie snapped back, irritation lacing her voice.

With an exasperated groan, Lark turned on her heel and marched down the staircase, her frustration echoing in the quiet of their home. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the fading scent of dampness from the bathroom. In the kitchen, their father, Andrew, was carefully pulling a golden-brown loaf from the oven, steam rising in lazy swirls around him. Country music was playing on the radio softly.

"Dad—" Lark began, but he cut her off, his voice gruff yet laced with humor.

"I already know. Had to go piss out in the backyard," he muttered, a smirk creeping onto his face. Then, lowering his voice to an ominous growl that made Lark chuckle, he bellowed, "KATIE ANN MARSHALL!"

A sudden, piercing shriek echoed from the bathroom, causing Lark to burst into laughter as her older sister, Katie, darted out like her tail was on fire, her face a blend of shock and indignation. With a mischievous grin, Lark thanked their dad and slipped into the bathroom before Katie could muster up the courage to return. The steam still clung to the air, carrying the warmth of the water, so she hurriedly tended to her long auburn hair, a cascade of curls and waves that tumbled down to her waist, and scrubbed her body with a honey-scented soap.

As she wiped the fog from the mirror, Lark paused, captivated by her reflection. Her features were softer and rounder than Katie's, giving her a gentle, endearing quality. Where Katie had inherited their mother's striking looks, sharp and elegant, Lark felt like a blend of innocence and curiosity. Their mother, Anna Lance, had vanished weeks after Lark’s birth, drawn away to start anew with a lawyer in Seattle, leaving behind memories of a life that never quite fit her. The quaint, small-town life had never been Anna’s calling. 

As she reached for the hair dryer, frustration mounted when it emitted only a feeble hum instead of the comforting rush of warm air she needed. With a sigh, she wrapped a plush towel around her and made her way down the creaky wooden stairs. “Dad, the hair dryer is broken again. Why don't we just—”

Lark abruptly halted, her voice trailing off as she came face-to-face with an unexpected sight. Half a dozen pairs of gleaming gold eyes were fixated on her, reflecting surprise and curiosity. The Cullen family filled her tidy kitchen, each member impeccably dressed in their usual immaculate style. They held foil-covered containers brimming with delicious aromas, their presence a stark contrast to her own disheveled appearance. With her hair dripping water onto the floor, in nothing but a towel, and the broken hair dryer dangling awkwardly from her fingers, she felt a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks.

Chief Swan and his daughter stood in an awkward silence, their gazes drifting to the backyard where the late morning sun cast dappled shadows across the grass. 

"Hi," Lark managed to squeak out, her voice barely rising above a whisper. 

Jasper, maintaining an air of calm composure, locked his gaze onto hers, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hello. I see we are a bit early," he remarked, his tone light yet teasing. 

Lark could only nod, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled the hair dryer clumsily from her hands, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. In an instant, she bolted up the stairs, the sound of a booming laugh echoed behind her, followed by a sharp, playful shout of "Emmett!"

"Oh my god, Lark!" Katie hissed as Lark barreled into her at the top of the staircase. "Where the hell are your clothes?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief and urgency, her brows knitted together.

"In my room!" Lark snapped back, her frustration bubbling over. "I didn't expect them to arrive so early!"

"It's 12:30. They aren't early," Katie retorted with a scoff, crossing her arms in irritation.

Lark shot her sister a fierce glare, her eyes narrowing. "If you hadn't taken your sweet time in the fucking bathroom—"

"GIRLS!" The deep, commanding bellow of their father reverberated through the hallway, causing both sisters to jump apart like startled deer. Seizing the moment, Lark dashed into her room, hastily pulling on a pair of well-worn jeans and a dark green bell-sleeved shirt that flowed gently with her movements. The adrenaline of the unexpected sneak peek lingered in her veins. Then ice-cold fear hit her. 

Seven vampires loomed in her kitchen, an unsettling sight that made her heart race. Vampires. Her dad and sister were mere steps away, oblivious to the danger that surrounded them. They claimed to be "animal-eating vampires," but what did that even mean?

"Are you done freaking out?" A voice broke through the tension, smooth yet commanding. Rosalie stood in the doorway, her hair intricately woven into a beautiful braid that cascaded down her back, and her sundress—a rich, deep blue that complemented her porcelain skin—swirled slightly as she moved. There was an elegance about her that seemed almost otherworldly. “We can smell your anxiety from down there. At this rate, your heart is going to explode in your chest. You’re still not nearly as bad as Bella was.”

Bella. The name sent a jolt through her. Chief Swan's daughter—hadn't she faced something similar? "Bella Swan knows?" Lark managed to ask, disbelief lacing her tone.

Rosalie scanned the room, her golden eyes landing on Lark's collection of wildlife photographs pinned to the walls, vibrant images capturing the majesty of nature. “Unfortunately,” she replied, a hint of seriousness in her tone. “These are good,” she added, nodding appreciatively toward the photos.

“Thank you,” Lark responded, the compliment momentarily distracting her from the surreal situation unfolding in her home. “But why are you in my room?”

A faint smile curved Rosalie’s lips. “It was either me or Alice, and, well... Alice can be a bit much.” The lightness in Rosalie’s voice cut through Lark’s anxiety, if only just a little, as she tried to wrap her mind around the strange day she was about to have.

"I did not mean to stroll downstairs wrapped in just a towel—"

Rosalie rolled her golden eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, please. We’ve all seen a naked body before. Well, except perhaps for Edward. I still firmly believe he’s a virgin, though he adamantly refuses to confirm it." Lark felt a warm flush creep into her cheeks, mortified by the casualness of their conversation. Rosalie let out an exaggerated sigh, her perfectly manicured French nails glimmering under the soft bedroom lights. "You really need to stop that. You're just going to make my brother drool all over you."

Lark’s brows knitted together in confusion. "Do what? Have normal emotions?"

Rosalie leaned back slightly, her expression shifting to one of playful annoyance as she flicked a strand of her golden hair over her shoulder. "Yes. I don’t want to spend my entire day acting as a bodyguard between you and Jasper. It’s exhausting."

The human teen could only stare at her, bewildered by the unexpected turbulence of the morning’s events. "Why would you—"

With a frustrated groan that sounded almost feral, Rosalie abruptly seized Lark's hand. The icy, delicate grip held a surprising strength. "I don't have time for you to piece all of this together. Come on."

The only thing that Lark could think was, What the hell is going on right now?

Chapter Text

Esme had gently sent Rosalie upstairs to check on Lark, concerned for her well-being. In the living room, Edward was making a conscientious effort to maintain some distance from Bella, aware of the unspoken tension that lingered between them. Meanwhile, Carlisle and Andrew were engaged in an animated discussion about the recent surge in the elk population in the surrounding forests, their voices occasionally rising in excitement as they shared insights. Chief Swan, ever the attentive listener, chimed in with a few comments, his deep voice punctuating the conversation with local anecdotes. 

"I didn't know your boys were hunters, Dr. Cullen," Chief Swan remarked with a hint of curiosity, raising an eyebrow. "Is that something new for them?"

Carlisle cautiously replied, "Jasper spent quite a bit of time hunting with his biological father during his younger years. He was exceptionally talented at it, a natural in the wild."

"Still is," Esme added with a warm smile, her gaze reflecting a deep fondness for Jasper’s impressive skills. If only they were aware that his prowess was not merely tied to the precise hunting the humans were speculating about. "Oh, what a lovely blouse, Lark," she complimented, her voice dripping with genuine admiration.

Jasper's attention shifted to the staircase, where Rosalie was practically ushering Lark down the steps with an invigorating annoyance. Lark looked radiant, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. The sweet and spicy aroma that surrounded her was intoxicating, flooding Jasper’s mouth with a craving he struggled to suppress. 

As Lark gracefully glided into the cozy, sunlit kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, blending with the light chatter of the household. Andrew gestured with a welcoming smile, introducing her to the room, "Lark, this is Chief Swan and his daughter, Bella." Bella, with her delicate features framed by wispy strands of hair, offered a quiet greeting, her wide brown eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and shyness. Lark approached her with a warm smile, her voice melodic as she asked, "How are you settling into Forks?"

Across the room, Rosalie stood with her arms crossed, her impatience barely contained. She muttered under her breath, just out of earshot of the humans, "Surely the humans won’t become friends." Her tone dripped with skepticism, a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere.

Esme chuckled softly, her maternal warmth radiating through the room. Her eyes lit up with a hint of mischief as she added, "It would be wonderful for Bella and Lark to forge a friendship. Especially if Lark is open to reciprocating Jasper’s feelings." 

At the mention of Jasper, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Jasper’s bright gold eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to his mother in surprise and a hint of alarm. "What feelings?" he hissed, his voice a blend of annoyance and unease.

Esme maintained her serene smile, a knowing glint in her gaze. "We can sense what you feel, Jasper. Your control over your gift falters whenever you’re near her." Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of his struggle.

Jasper rolled his eyes in exasperation, but a rush of heat crept into his cheeks would have happened if it could. "Not helping," he murmured under his breath.

Just then, Lark’s voice cut through his thoughts, her gentle tone pulling him back to the moment. He turned to find her standing just behind him, a nervous smile playing on her lips that seemed to light up her face. "Hi," she said, her voice soft.

"Thank you for inviting us," he managed to say, grappling with the torrent of emotions swirling within him as he fought to suppress the venom pooling in his mouth. 

Lark nodded, "You're welcome, Mrs. Cullen," she offered her hand to the Cullen Matriarch, "It's so lovely to meet you. Thank you for all the food. The stations are going to eat good this week."

Esme's smile brightened even more. "Oh, I am so glad." Then Esme wrapped Lark in a soft hug, "Oh, I am so happy to meet you!"

Lark gasped but hugged the vampire back, "Thank you for coming."

More people began to arrive. Deputy Mark Dowling immediately inquired about Rosalie's car. Katie's group of friends showed up soon after. Mike Newton, Ashley Dowling, Tyler Crowley, and Eric Yorke were very shocked to see the Cullen family in the Marshalls' living room. 

"LARK!" Nicole Casey burst through the front door, her heart racing with concern, and swept her best friend into a tight embrace. "You get hurt the one day I'm not around! Look at that gash!" She gently pulled Lark’s head down, her fingers brushing against the dried blood, as she examined the injury with a mixture of worry and affection. "My poor baby!"

"I'm fine, Nicole," Lark protested, rolling her eyes, a small smile creeping onto her lips despite the concern etched on her face. "I promise."

Leaning in conspiratorially, Nicole whispered into Lark's ear, her voice laced with excitement, "Did you know the Cullens are in your house?"

Across the kitchen, Emmett let out a hearty laugh as he heaped his plate high with steaming helpings of food, the tantalizing aroma wafting through the air. Jasper couldn't help but wince at the sight, watching as his brother devoured the meal with an enthusiasm that suggested he hadn't eaten in days. "That is going to be unpleasant to throw up later, Em," he remarked, shaking his head.

Unfazed, Emmett merely shrugged, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Gotta look human," he said with mock seriousness, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, as he returned to his feast, the clattering of plates echoing in the cozy room. 

Jasper rolled his eyes in exasperation as he finally saw Edward casually engaging Bella in conversation. It seemed as though everyone in the room had found their rhythm in lively discussions, while he stood isolated, an outsider looking in. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, filled with laughter and the soft hum of chatter, yet he felt an overwhelming urge to escape. Quietly, he slipped away upstairs, unnoticed by the group below.

He paused outside the bathroom, the unmistakable scent of the Marshall family—earthy and familiar—growing stronger in the narrow hallway. Curiosity tugged at him, guiding him toward a nearby bedroom. As he entered, he was greeted by a collage of vibrant pictures taped haphazardly to the walls, each one depicting various birds and animals in stunning detail. They seemed to flutter and roam across the space, bringing it to life.

But it was Lark’s unique fragrance—a comforting blend of cinnamon and apple—that enveloped him like a warm embrace, saturating the still air. A more primal part of Jasper, one he'd worked diligently to keep suppressed, stirred within him, instinctively drawn to her presence. He understood with startling clarity that Lark was his mate. The thought sent a rush of longing through him, yet he wrestled with the painful knowledge that he could never impose his world on her. She wasn’t merely tempting; she felt like home, a forgotten sanctuary filled with bittersweet memories.

His gaze landed on a framed picture above her bed, capturing a moment frozen in time: a younger Lark, surrounded by two massive boys—short, dark-haired, and rust-skinned. He picked it up gingerly, tracing the handwriting on the back with his fingers as he read, “Paul, Sam, and Lark. Summer 2006.” A spark of realization ignited within him, and he muttered under his breath, “She’s friends with Sam Uley and Paul Lahote."

Just then, the unmistakable scent of wet dog wafted up from downstairs, jolting his awareness. Lark’s ecstatic squeal drifted through the house like music, stirring something possessive and fierce within him. He felt a growl resonate deep in his chest, a warning from that darker side he struggled to contain. But as her joyful shout echoed once more, calling out for Sam and Paul, Jasper stifled his growl, urgency driving him to descend the stairs. 

Sam Uley’s gaze locked onto Jasper with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine as he stood on the worn wooden stairs. Paul, ever the protector, inquired about Lark's injury with a furrowed brow, seeking answers. As Lark recounted the abbreviated, human-friendly version of her harrowing experience, Paul's attention sharply shifted back to Jasper. 

"This is Jasper. He's the one who carried me to his dad." The air was thick and electric, heavy with unspoken tension, as the two wolves cast wary glances at each other before looking back at Jasper. He could feel their rage swirling around him, a hot wave that scorched his very core. 

Paul’s expression transformed, a fierce glimmer of anger igniting in his eyes, as if he were about to unleash his primal instincts. But just in time, Lark wrapped her arms around Paul's waist, grounding him with her presence. Instantly, the explosive tension between the two Quilute warriors ebbed, though Jasper remained taut with unease. Watching Lark embrace the scruffy wolf, a surge of jealousy seethed within him, igniting a dark thought to snap the boy's neck.

"Sam, Paul, and Lark have been inseparable friends since they were knee-high," Andrew explained to Chief Swan, an amused smile playing on his lips. "I’m surprised Billy Black never mentioned it to you."

"You guys are definitely staying for the food," Lark insisted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She grabbed Sam and Paul by the hands, effortlessly tugging them away from Jasper, who was still on the stairs, and led them toward the inviting warmth of the kitchen.

Carlisle Cullen cleared his throat, a subtle but clear signal it was time to wrap up their visit. He extended his hand toward Andrew, his demeanor polite yet firm. "I think it’s time we headed out," he said, his voice steady but gentle.

Andrew's brows furrowed in concern, his brow knitting together. "You barely touched your plate. Come on now, don't be shy; stay a bit longer!" he urged, his tone plenty persuasive.

Carlisle shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face despite the insistence. "I appreciate the offer, truly. However, I’m on call at the hospital, and the children have their own commitments awaiting them at home. We genuinely had a wonderful time with all of you, but we should take our leave."

"You didn't know!?" Edward snapped, his voice laced with disbelief as he maneuvered the car down the dimly lit road, the engine roaring beneath the strain of his anxiety. The familiar landscape zipped by in a blur, a stark contrast to the tension building inside the car. "What if Paul had chosen that moment to rip you apart right there?"

Jasper shot him an incredulous look, gripping the door handle tightly. "I don't go prowling through women’s rooms while they’re asleep, Edward," he growled, his expression hardening with irritation as he deliberately ignored the more pressing question hanging in the air.

Edward's words cut through the silence like a knife. "No, just when they’re awake and have the chance to catch you in the act!"

Emmett, casually lounging in the backseat with his long limbs sprawled out, shrugged with a nonchalant air. "So she's friends with the dogs; who cares? It’s not like they’re a threat." His tone was dismissive.

Carlisle, ever the voice of reason, sighed deeply. "She could be under their protection. She might even be Paul’s…" His voice trailed off, the implications of his statement looming ominously in the cramped car space.

"No!" Jasper interjected fiercely, his voice rising above the others. "There’s no possible way that happened! It didn’t feel that way at all."

"But you aren't entirely certain," Carlisle pointed out gently, his tone steadfast but cautious. 

Jasper growled in frustration, his voice low and tense. "I don't know," he admitted, his fists clenching at his sides. 

With a calm demeanor, Carlisle suggested, "I can call a meeting with Sam and ask." A flicker of hope crossed his face, though it quickly faded as Jasper scoffed. 

"As if Sam will tell the truth—" Jasper's retort was cut short when the car suddenly veered off the road, slamming him violently against the passenger door. His heart raced as the vehicle careened wildly through the dense underbrush, rolling over the uneven terrain for what felt like an eternity before it came to a jarring halt on its side. "What the fuck?" Jasper exclaimed.

With a surge of adrenaline, he kicked the mangled door off its hinges, the metal flying into the woods with a resounding crash. He and Emmett scrambled out of the wreckage, Carlisle having been thrust through the windshield, but emerged unscathed, shaking off the shards of glass as he stood tall, a look of determination etched across his face. 

Edward was already on the move, having always been the fastest in the family. He pointed upward, where a massive wolf loomed, its dark silver fur shimmering like moonlight on water. This creature was a colossal figure, at least five times larger than Jasper, muscles coiled with tension, poised to spring into action.

"Paul," Edward called out, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "We didn’t hurt her."

The air crackled with tension as Paul, the enormous wolf, bared long, glistening white teeth, a snarling display of aggression aimed directly at them. Emmett, standing his ground, growled in response, his protective instincts surging forth.

"Paul, please listen," Carlisle spoke with a calm authority, trying to mediate the escalating situation. "My sons did not harm her. It was an accident." His voice echoed through the eerie stillness of the forest, filled with earnestness.

Edward quickly added, "Lark is his best friend," glancing nervously at Jasper, "and he's… in love with her." As the revelation hung in the air, four pairs of golden eyes shifted to the silver wolf, who, feeling provoked, prepared to charge. Paul, clearly offended by Edward’s unguarded admission of his feelings, bristled. "My bad," Edward muttered sheepishly.

In an instant, all four vampires dove into the underbrush, the rustling leaves providing a momentary distraction. Paul lunged between them with lightning speed, jaws snapping dangerously close as he aimed directly for Edward. Quick on his feet, Edward darted upward, scaling a nearby tree with effortless grace. "We really don’t want to hurt you, Paul!" he called down, his voice steady despite the chaos.

In a thunderous crescendo, Emmett launched himself into Paul, his massive frame colliding with the wolf and sending him sprawling to the ground. Paul, with his explosive anger, ranked just below Sam, the alpha, in strength—his fury a volatile force. As the dust settled, Edward swiftly dropped down to join his father and brothers, the tension in the air palpable.

“Jasper,” Carlisle urged, his voice low and strained, just as Paul began to rise to his feet once more. “We could use a little assistance here.”

With a deep, unnecessary breath that trembled with the weight of control he was about to relinquish, Jasper felt the walls he'd painstakingly constructed in his mind begin to crumble. The gentlemanly veneer slipped away, replaced by a visceral instinct as he unleashed a ferocious roar and charged directly at Paul. Although Jasper lacked extensive experience in combating shape-shifters, the raw determination that surged within him fueled his actions, allowing him to seize the upper hand.

The two wrestled in a chaotic blur, their forms entwined in a primal dance of snarls and snapping jaws. Jasper, driven by the desire to subdue Paul, gripped the wolf’s powerful jaws, straining to pull them apart, intent on breaking the stubborn boy’s jaw once and for all.

Then, out of the shadows, a black mass surged forward. Sam, the alpha, charged in, accompanied by a smaller wolf with fur like rich brown earth. The sight shifted Paul's focus, shaking off Jasper and dashing toward his alpha, instinctively slinking down in a submissive posture as he drew near. 

“Sam apologizes for Paul,” Edward interjected, his voice steady yet firm. “Lark explained that it was an accident and assured us we didn’t truly harm her.” 

Sam bowed his head to Carlisle and led his two packmates away, quickly.

Jasper took a moment to collect his thoughts when Emmett busted out laughing, "Well, we have to get you a new car, Dad."