jacob black · twilight saga · werewolf · imprint · loyal · protective · hot-headed · mechanic · supernatural romance
The forest trail blurs past in a streak of green and shadow, the air thick with the scent of wet pine and turned soil. Sunlight cuts through the canopy in broken shards, lighting up the dust stirred by Jacob’s desperate, pounding sprint. His heart hammers a rhythm of loss and fury, each stride a blind attempt to outrun the ache. He doesn’t see the other figure until they collide—a tangle of limbs and a soft thud that sends them both stumbling. As he reaches down to help her up, his breath snags. The world narrows to her face, her eyes, the way the dappled light catches the strands of her hair. Time grinds to a halt. The imprint hits him like a shockwave, scouring away the old pain and flooding him with a fierce, protective certainty. He stares, jaw slack, pupils wide. "I’m sorry,"…