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Jacob was gone.
He'd come out of the house. He'd phased. And the moment his thoughts hit the pack mind, overbrimming with joy, Leah knew what had happened to him. She'd spent a few moments in his mind -- Renesmee's face, the burning feeling, the deep devotion -- before she'd phased back to human. She'd vomited onto the forest floor, shaking, not caring that she was naked.
Imprinting on a child. A half-vampire abomination, no less. The half-vampire abomination child of his ex-girlfriend, no less. Disgusting. Horrifying. Utterly, utterly wrong.
She'd suspected it, with Sam. He'd changed so much with the imprint. She'd assumed the old Sam would never leave her, but she could chalk that knowledge up to her own flawed perceptions. No, what had changed was his behavior to his new intended. The old Sam would never have been so obsessive. He wouldn't have been jealous. He would have been able to handle rejection like an adult.
The old Sam certainly wouldn't have ripped Emily's face off.
But Leah had been so full of pain at what happened, and with everyone in the pack telling her that her feelings were trivial, she couldn't help but doubt herself. Imprinting might have made Sam act differently, but then, they'd all changed after becoming werewolves. His anger at Emily was easily explained by the unstable emotions phasing brought; his obsession was due to the True Love of the imprint. It wasn't like she wanted to get close enough to him to observe the ways he'd changed, anyway. She could believe that the Sam she loved was still in there.
She'd thought it again, when Quil Ateara had imprinted on a toddler. She'd been disturbed by how peacefully he'd accepted it as natural. Sure, his feelings weren't sexual right then (and thank God) but the idea should have disgusted him. Would have disgusted him. She hadn't known the kid well, but he'd apparently thought himself quite the ladies' man before the change. A normal teenager, one who liked girls his own age, should have found the whole thing disgusting.
But the whole pack had accepted it. They'd scoffed at Leah's misgivings. Quil would be whatever Claire needed, and right now, he was her caregiver, and that was all. If he became her lover when she grew up, that was fine, because that would prove to be what Claire wanted. They were perfectly matched. Soulmates. Everything was how it was supposed to be.
You sound like you're in a cult , she had thought to herself, but she never voiced it. She didn't see much of a point. The Alpha order forbade anyone from interfering with the imprint bond. She was forced to sit and watch, just as she was forced to sit and watch with Emily and Sam, as imprinter and imprintee found seemingly endless joy in each other. She'd had misgivings about it, but she hadn't known Quil well before. Maybe, like Sam, becoming a wolf had changed him.
But now she'd seen the truth.
She'd known Jacob before the imprinting. The guy may have been a bit of a prick, but he talked to her. He spent time with her. Condescending as he was, he'd given her a place to stay, far away from Sam. He'd listened to her problems. He'd kept Seth safe. She'd understood him as well as someone could understand an acquaintance.
That Jacob -- the guy who angsted over Bella, who thought the imprint was awful, who hated the baby that was clawing its way out of the person he loved -- was dead. A stranger had taken his place.
She did not want to believe it. But crouching naked in the forest, bile burning her throat, Leah had no choice.
She'd seen the event fresh in his mind. She'd seen the exact way the imprint seared through every connection Jacob Black once had. He'd been left with only one motive: the call of his imprintee. There was nothing else that could ever matter to him again.
He was dead. Worse than dead. Undead, brainwashed, his body piloted by the pure need the imprint inspired, his mind consumed with devotion. Any hopes and dreams he might have had disappeared completely in the shadow of the one he was bound to. Anything that made him Jacob had died.
And Sam, God, Sam...
Sam used to kiss her lightly on the lips when he greeted her. He loved cherry ice cream, hated mint. He liked watching old movies with her, his arm curled loosely around her waist, sometimes absently toying with her hair. He'd enjoyed trips to the gym and running on the beach and reading tattered books about World War I aviation. He was afraid of being forgotten once he died. He thought that honor was the ideal every person should strive for. A thousand facets had made up the person that was Sam, and she'd loved every single one.
He wasn't the planet she orbited around, but he was important to her. She'd loved him. He'd loved her. Real, flawed, messy, human love. They'd laughed together. They'd cried together. It hadn't always been joyous, but it was solid, and his love was Leah's North Star.
Like Jacob, he was gone.
A low keening sound slipped from her throat. Her fingers curled against the dirt. The pain in her was so white-hot she wanted to phase again and run away, but if she did, Jacob and Seth would hear her thoughts. She had to lay there, naked in the woods, her thoughts bleeding Sam, Sam, Sam into the air, and there was no way to calm her grief.
No body to bury. No closure. I have to sit and look at these boys every day from now on, knowing they're dead. And everyone will plan their stupid weddings and talk about how perfect imprinted love is. They don't care that they've been brainwashed. They only care that they've been made to be happy in the brainwashing.
Was it destiny? Did fate decide this? Or was it some trick of biology, some magic ingrained in their wolf blood that decided Leah's lover and friends should be mindless drones? Was all Jacob's hatred of the imprint always meant to come to this? Were any of them meant to have free will at all? Tied to their Alphas, tied to their imprintees -- did it even matter what any of them chose anymore?
Sam, she thought, tears sliding down her cheeks. The scent of her own vomit was sick in her nostrils. She did not care enough to move. Sam, you would have had so many interesting things to say about fate. You would have debated this with me for hours. You would have laughed with me about how horrifying Jacob imprinting on the child of his ex is. You would have hated what happened to you, Sam. You would have wanted to fight it.
A few days ago, she had told Jacob she wanted to imprint, if only to forget her feelings for Sam. Now, she was dreading the idea with every fiber of her being. She was in pain, yes, but it was her pain, dammit. She would rather have that than the dronelike bliss the imprinters feel. But she won't have a choice, will she? Like Jacob, the choice will be taken from her. If she imprints, she'll be dead--
Wait.
Sam's theory: imprinting makes stronger wolves. The unspoken assumption that the relationship between Quil and Claire will someday turn romantic, as horrific as that notion is. The fact that, up until now, every wolf-imprintee pairing has turned romantic. Call it fate or destiny, but biology doesn't tie people like that without the goal to reproduce. It was based around creating more little wolf babies.
And Leah… Leah was infertile.
She hugged herself tight. Amid all the terrible grief and horror, a tiny spark grew. Maybe she would be safe from the imprint. Maybe she would be able to have a life. Maybe she wouldn't be turned into a slave.
The thought gave her strength. It didn't erase the horror, only lifted a small portion of it, but she was finally able to stand on wobbly legs. She was able to totter towards where she'd left her clothes, deeper in the woods.
Let Jacob and Seth think her sudden disappearance from the pack mind was due to jealousy. Let Jacob come the next day to berate her for leaving his newborn bride unprotected. Let them tell her feelings were false, let them sicken her with Jacob's newfound devotion to that devil spawn. She didn't care. Tonight, Leah Clearwater would be human.
Seth was still in danger. She could lose him, too. Another thing to keep her awake tonight, as she lay alone in her bedroom.
But tonight, she'd simply grieve the losses she'd already sustained. She'd give Jacob, Paul, Jared, and Sam a quiet funeral in the privacy of her home. She'd cry for all of them. She'd live the emotions they were now unable to feel, and mourn them when nobody else would.
She owed enough to them to give them that.