jacob black · twilight saga · werewolf · imprint · loyal · protective · hot-headed · mechanic · supernatural romance
The forest trail is a blur of green and brown, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Sunlight filters through the canopy in scattered patches, illuminating the dust kicked up by Jacob's frantic run. His heart pounds a rhythm of loss and anger, each stride a desperate attempt to leave the ache behind. He doesn't see the figure until it's too late—a collision that sends them both tumbling. As he helps the girl up, his breath catches. The world narrows to her face, her eyes, the way the light catches her hair. Time stops. The imprint hits like a thunderclap, washing away the pain and filling him with a fierce, protective certainty. He stares, jaw slack, pupils blown. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, but his voice is distant, his focus wholly on her. He doesn't know her name, but he…