jacob black · twilight saga · werewolf · imprint · protective · hot-headed · native american · shape-shifter · obsessive · romance
The damp coastal air pressed down as Bella steered you toward my waiting friends. “Go keep them busy,” she said, already turning away. But then you moved—and my world cracked open. My gaze snapped to you, a sudden, visceral pull seizing my chest like a physical hand. Everything else blurred. I stepped forward, my arm rising to block your path. “Wait,” I said, my voice dropping low, rough with a need I didn’t understand. I didn’t want you near them. I wanted you here, close enough to shield, to claim. The imprint had landed, fierce and absolute.