#used the natives dreadful circumstances for his own advantage not caring what happened to them and causing the death of so MANY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tertiaryembarrassment · 6 years

Text

Unexpected (Pt.3) - Paul Lahote x Reader

part 3 ringing in at 2,334 words long and I have no intention of stopping lmao thank you for coming on this journey with me so far

warnings: language

part 1

part 2

You’re sitting at the kitchen table in a house you’ve never been before, somewhere on La Push’s reservation. Emily sits across from you, resting her head on a hand as she sips quietly from a steaming mug. That’s the first thing she did when you arrived at the house you assumed was hers – neither of you had said anything since the car ride here, so, at the moment, you weren’t even certain where you were – readied a pot of coffee for the two of you. She’d set a matching mug in front of you, and you curled your fingers around it, thankful for the warmth. You didn’t mention your general distain for coffee. It’s bitterness never suited you.

While the two of you don’t exchange words, your mind replay’s the night’s events again and again, a series of incomprehensible happenings that seemed to make perfect sense to everyone except you. Even now, eyeing Emily from across the table, she seems uncomfortable, but not shaken. Not like you. The pit inside your stomach has taken over now, consumed your whole body as every inch of you pulses with anxiety. You search for something to focus on – anything that could help this make sense – and settle on categorizing your questions mentally.

First, what happened to Leah? It was difficult to see from the place in the sand Sam had pinned you, but it almost looked like Leah became the creature. Since that’s not possible, it must have been the next most likely explanation: you didn’t see it, but the wolf somehow bulldozed over Leah in order to attack Paul. And if that’s true? Leah must be…

You close your eyes and shake that thought from your head. Leah is okay. She has to be.

Next, what were those creatures? Obviously, they looked like wolves, but they were far too big, far too strong, to be any species native to Forks. There are tons of ancient tales detailing wolf-like creatures – direwolves, wulvers, waheela, the Black Shuck – but none that would explain what you saw on the beach. Most of them weren’t even supposed to be real. To think that those tales might be true, you shudder at the thought of what else might be out there.

Also, why are you the only one who seems to care that your party was just attacked by wolfish monsters? Emily sits so coolly, sipping her drink silently. Most of the people on the beach didn’t even run – they just stood back, as if supernatural wolf attacks were something they saw daily. You watched Emily’s fiancé walk right into the thick of that fight, and yet she doesn’t even seem to worry for him. Sam seemed like a strong man, he was tall and well built, but certainly not a match for animals like that, no human would be. Why wouldn’t he have driven away with you?

Finally, you settle on one last question. Why am I still here? By now, you’ve had ample opportunity to run. You eye the front door, just past Emily across the table. You could walk right out, call a cab, call a friend, call… someone, and never think about this again. You don’t need this, these strange secrets and terrible monsters and odd circumstances…

But you know you can’t do that. While your brain calls for you to take the safest option, there is another part of you, a stronger part, a deep instinct, that needs to know. Needs an explanation for the fantastic, terrible things you saw tonight. Maybe all those years with your nose stuck in a mythology book weren’t so wasted after all.

You’re mulling over the questions in your head when the front doors swings open and Sam’s body fills the frame. He’s shirtless, wearing a new pair of shorts, and sweating profusely. You jump at the sudden movement in the silent room and have to juggle your still-full mug for a moment to avoid spilling the drink inside. Emily is immediately on her feet, meeting the man at the door, wrapping him in her arms.

Okay. Maybe she was a little worried, you concede.

Sam returns her embrace, wrapping a strong arm around her thin frame and planting a kiss on the top of her head. You avert your gaze, examining the wall for a moment, suddenly feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment. They unwind themselves from one another after a beat, but she keeps a hand firmly wrapped around his bicep, as if worried if she let go he might float away.

You’re not sure what to say, but you’re opening your mouth to greet Sam in the most normal way one can after the night you just had, when you realize he didn’t come alone. In fact, as he moves deeper inward the house, vacating the open door, it looks almost as if he brought the whole party with him, as several young men filter into the house, giving tight-lipped smiles and curt nods in your direction.

You name them as they walk past you, recalling their names from your introductions earlier that night – Jared, Jacob, Embry, Seth, Quil, Brady, Collin…

And then Paul’s walking through the door, one hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously as his eyes survey the ground. Stepping into the room, he tears his gaze from the floor and sets it instead on you, watching you with such intensity you feel like it’s the first time anyone’s every really looked at you. He walks past your spot at the table to join the boys behind you, but even without seeing him you feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

You’re tapping your fingernails eagerly against the side of your mug, looking unblinkingly at the open door into the night. There’s the chirp of grasshoppers and frogs and a distant whirr of a car engine, but no more footsteps. You open your mouth to speak your first words since the long car ride here, “Where’s Leah?”

You don’t turn around, but you hear Seth step closer to you, breaking away from the group of boys. “She’s okay, Y/N. She went home, she’s pretty mad.”

Craning your neck in your chair to face the boy who addressed you, you’re met with nine faces of tired, sweaty young men you now note are all without shirts, all having seemingly changed clothes since the last time you saw them, just over an hour ago. Some look at you with concern or sympathy, others have taken to the living room, spreading out on the couches and on the carpeted floor.

You chew on your lip, studying the men before you. While your concern for Leah is still your top priority, Seth’s voice seems genuine in his reassurance of her safety. He’s her brother, and you don’t think he would lie to you… and that voice in your head, the one that’s longing for answers, to understand something new about the world you’d never guessed could exist is getting louder, winning out over your rational brain. A split-second decision, and suddenly you’re turning your chair around to face the rest of the room without craning your neck.

“Somebody start talking,” you command, staring pointedly from face to face in the full house.

Most heads turn toward Paul, whose eyes are still fixated on you. You try to meet his gaze, but his eyes are so intense, searching, you can’t hold it long. You let your eyes fall instead on Sam, who is leaning against the couch, face set in a concerned frown, thick brows casting shadows over his dark eyes.

“Emily mentioned to you the history of the Quileutes – you know nothing about us?” He questions.

You shake your head. “Nothing. Start at the beginning.”

Sam lets out a long breath and looks to Paul, motioning for him to continue. Paul returns his look, confusion and something like dread spreading across his face. Taking in a large gulp of air, Paul pushes himself off the back of the couch and takes a place at the table next to you. You follow him with your eyes as he sits, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“The Quileutes are supposedly descended from… wolves.” He says, a nervous hand returning to rub the back of his neck. He peers up at you from under his brows, eyes darting nervously around the room, falling anywhere but you. “Many of our people are said to have the blood of wolves running through their veins – it’s against tribal law to kill them.”

You feel yourself nodding, hearing his words but still needing a moment to process them. It’s not so strange for a culture to consider themselves related to animals in some way – you’ve read about this sort of thing thousands of times – but you’ve never been confronted with it in the modern day. You steady your breathing best you can and nod at Paul, encouraging him silently to go on.

“Even before wolves entered the Quileute bloodline, we had… abilities. The first were called the Spirit Warriors. They had all sorts of powers – they could leave their bodies and enter the spirit realm, and manipulate nature and animals this way. They used their powers to protect the tribe and their people, and it’s why we’ve survived as long as we have,” he’s hesitating, you can tell, searching for the words to tell this story in a way that won’t make him sound insane. You lean in closer, urging him once again not to stop. You need to know.

“That’s when the wolves come in. A powerful Spirit Warrior by the name of Taha Aki was once trapped in the spirit realm by a power-hungry usurper, Utlapa, who stole Taha Aki’s body and killed his own to masquerade as the Spirit Chief,” for once, Paul looks up at you and lets out a soft laugh. You didn’t notice, but you were leaning in so close, eyes wide, drinking in the story he was telling you. You feel your cheeks reddening at his laughter, leaning back sheepishly in your chair. Immediately, his face softens with regret. “I didn’t mean to-”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you assure him, “keep going.”

He returned to his story, this time, engaging you directly. “Utlapa ordered the Spirit Warriors to stop using their powers, knowing that if they left their bodies they would find Taha Aki in the spirit world and know of his deception. Taha Aki couldn’t let Utlapa take advantage of the tribe, so he tied his spirit to the body of a wolf in order to contact his people. At first, they were afraid of him, but when the heard the creature singing their tribal songs, they knew he must have been sent by the spirits.” There’s a pause. With a glance around the room, you become acutely aware of the silence around you, every eye settled on the two of you, every ear listening intently to Paul’s recounting of the legend. He seems to notice as well, laughing nervously at his friends, hoping he’s getting the details right.

“One of the warriors, Yut, disobeyed Utlapa’s orders and left his body, immediately discovering the truth of Taha Aki’s whereabouts. Utlapa killed Yut in a rage, which lit a fire of rage inside of Taha Aki, who transformed from wolf to man in front of the whole tribe. The usurper tried to run, but Taha Aki had the strength of a wolf and killed him there. It was said that after that the tribe was allowed to return to normal, and Taha Aki had many sons. Sons that were… like us.”

A wave of quiet pride sweeps across the room. You turn your head to address the boys behind you, who have all settled into their seats and were listening to Paul’s words with attention. “What are you, then?” You ask quietly, both afraid and excited by the answer.

Paul breathes in silence for a moment, as if hoping one of the others would finish the story for them. No one does. “Shapeshifters,” he says finally.

A cackle flies past your lips, so quick you can’t subdue it for politeness’s sake. You slap a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself silently – but what do they expect? “Shapeshifters? Shapeshifters?” You’re rising from your chair, swinging around to face everyone in the room. “I’m sorry, you’ve all been very kind but if you expect me to believe that you’re all some sort of ancient lycanthropes reincarnated, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.” You’re silent for a beat, surveying the faces around you. To your surprise, there are no sly smiles or giggles from the boys – you were expecting sure indications that this is all a silly, unfunny prank on the new girl. But they’re all silent, staring with serious expressions, shifting from you to Paul and back again. “This is crazy. I can’t do this.”

You’re heading for the door, thanking Emily in breathy tones for the coffee and the ride home, simultaneously wondering how you plan on getting back to Forks without a car, when Paul leaps from his chair and blocks the way with his massive frame. He’s looking at you directly, so intense he almost seems physically pained. He rests a hand on your arm, his touch a welcome warmth. “Please stay,” he says. “We can prove it.” A hopeful glace to the rest of the boys earns him nods of solidarity, agreement rushing from their lips.

A groan, closed eyes and fingers connecting with temples, rubbing small circles around them, banishing the headache you can feel forming. Shit. Are we doing this? Shit. You think, open palms turning into fists as you consider the possibilities. But then you see Paul again, and his eyes are so pleading, soft and kind and hopeful, and you feel something inside you melting. Lips pressed into a stern line, you address the room. “Alright. Show me.”

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #uley pack #uley pack imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #sam uley #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #wolf pack #wolf pack imagine

817 notes · View notes