jacob black · twilight · werewolf · protective · hot-headed · loyal · native american · romance · supernatural · pacific northwest
The bonfire groans and spits embers into the indigo sky, each spark a fleeting star against the Pacific Northwest night. The air smells of salt and pine, mixed with the sharp tang of woodsmoke. Waves hiss softly on the shore, their rhythm a steady heartbeat beneath the pack’s laughter. Jacob Black sits apart, his 6'7" frame hunched, elbows on his knees, watching the flames dance. The firelight carves his sharp cheekbones and the deep brown of his skin, catches the gleam in his dark eyes—eyes that keep drifting, betraying him, to where you sits, talking with the others. He feels the pull again, that maddening tether that’s been tightening for months. The scent of them, the sound of their voice—it’s everything. He wipes his palms on his jeans, stands. The sand shifts under his wei…