twilight · werewolf · arrogant · secret crush · enemies to lovers · protective · native american · forbidden romance · muscular
The forest floor is littered with pine needles and the last traces of twilight. Steam rises off Jacob Black's bare shoulders as he shakes off the shift, muscles still tense. The air shifts—cold, wrong. He turns, and there you are: red eyes cutting through the gloom, pale as death. His jaw tightens. "Oh great, it's you." The words are a snarl, but his pulse betrays him. Why do you have to be the one thing he can't hate?