(Leah POV)
Yet again, I stord through the woods, the only place that gave even a shred of peace these days. The air was still moist from the latest rainstorm, the ground was soft and slippery enough that I had to watch my step. It's hard to do a proper stomp if the ground doesn't give you the sound of a solid impact.
I knew I'd have to apologize to Seth yet again once I got my anger under control. Trying to do it now would only backfire. He'd just hit his teenage years, and his newfound love of sarcasm got under my skin more than I liked to admit. The kid didn't deserve all of my bite, but I couldn't help it.
That should be my new mantra: I can't help any of it.
The anger was always there, clinging to , like an exposed nerve. It wasn't just about Seth. It wasn't just about Sam, either—though thinking his na made my stomach twist. No, it was bigger. Older. Heavier. I'd wake up angry, go to bed angry, and in between, I'd snap at everyone who dared breathe too close.
The only ti the anger faded even a little was when I talked with Thomas at the Powwow all those months ago. More than likely though, it was imrsing myself in the heritage of the tribe. There is an idea, I can find so materials and make a dream catcher. Better sleep would be nice, all I do in my dreams anymore is run. Maybe I was a track star in my past life, if I believed in that crap anyway.
I paused and looked around, taking in my surroundings. I hadn't been paying attention to where I was going, as long as I was moving. Taking in a deep breath, I let it out and tried to center myself.
There was a sweet sll in the air. I breathed in another lungful through my nose, it reminded of Thomas again. That sugary cologne I slled on him at the Powwow, it didn't sll bad. It just slled like it didn't belong. Following the scent, I ca to a small clearing with a sowhat flat rock in it. The area seed well-worn by hikers. A gust of wind blew through the trees, bringing the sound of cloth dragging against tree bark. What surprised was that the sound ca from up in a nearby tree. Looking closer, I saw what appeared to be a backpack hung on a branch, how weird.
I frowned. No one in their right mind would just toss a perfectly good pack up into a tree. Hikers around here were sloppy sotis, sure, but not that sloppy. It had to be there intentionally.
I stepped closer, craning my neck. The pack swayed in the breeze, whatever it held wasn't heavy, but the bulge showed there was sothing in it. Clothes maybe? I thought to myself.
The breeze hit again, this ti from a different angle. Suddenly, the sugary scent grew stronger—so strong my throat tightened.
"Thomas?" I muttered before I could stop myself, heat rushing to my cheeks at how pathetic it sounded.
"That's not who you're slling."
The voice froze where I stood. Low, calm, too smooth. It didn't co from the trees or down the trail. It ca from right behind .
I whipped around, my heart slamming into my ribs, and nearly stumbled backward.
She stood there, perfectly still, like she'd been part of the clearing all along. Copper hair catching slivers of dull light, skin pale like polished stone. Golden eyes—watching , sharp but not unkind. I had never seen her before, but I knew her imdiately.
Edythe Cullen.
I swallowed hard, fists clenching automatically at my sides. My mom's warnings, the Elders' instructions, even Dad's muttered words all crashed through at once: stay away from the Cullens.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," she said softly, almost like it was a kindness.
I barked out a laugh I didn't feel. "And you should? Newsflash, Cullen—this isn't your forest."
Her gaze didn't flicker. "It isn't your side of the river either."
The words slid under my skin, barbed and quiet. I hated how steady her voice was, how unbothered she looked. Like she knew sothing I didn't. Like she was holding it over .
That sll twisted in my chest again—Thomas. Or sothing that clung to him, at least. I bit down the lump rising in my throat.
"Why do you sll like him?" I blurted before I could stop myself.
Sothing flickered across her perfect face—too quick to catch. Then her expression smoothed again, calm as ever. "Because he's important to ."
Her answer was simple. Too simple. And it made my stomach twist in ways I didn't want to na. Anger started to build now that surprise had passed. I pulled back on it as much as I could. There was nothing to worry about, just so stupid stories. I was still wary though, watching her every move.
"If he is important, why isn't he with you or you with him?"
Sothing flickered in her eyes then—sothing sharp, but it was gone before I could pin it down. Her face stayed unreadable, and that only made angrier.
She glanced to my side at the rock in the clearing, "He ca here to clear his head sotis. It's one of the last places in the area that I can still feel connected to him. Loneliness takes on a whole new feeling once you have tasted real happiness. But I'm not telling you anything you don't know. Am I, Miss Clearwater?"
Her eyes returned to my face, and for one breathless second, I felt like she could see straight through —like she knew what was twisting in my chest, the things I'd never admit even to myself.
I broke her gaze, jaw tight. "You don't know ."
"No," she agreed softly, "but I know Thomas. And he has spoken of you."
That caught off guard, and I hated how my pulse jumped at the sound of his na in her mouth. I wanted to snap back, tell her she had no right, but the words tangled up inside .
I shifted my weight and crossed my arms tight over my chest, trying to keep the anger down, contained. But so slipped through.
"Oh yeah, and what does he know about ?"
Edythe smiled, no smirked. "He knows you have had a raw deal. Other people making decisions that have affected you have made you doubt yourself. But he is confident that you will co out stronger than even you know, and now I see why he thinks that way. Fierce, loyal, but a bit lost right now."
At her words, I envisioned the tis I had seen Thomas. The cliffs when he was worried because he heard screaming. God, what a bitch I was to him. Then at the beach, where I got to apologize, until Sam showed up and I ran like a coward. Next, at the hospital parking lot, where he knew enough to tell what I needed to know. Even if I was too proud and angry to go find out for myself.
And the Powwow… where I didn't even realize it was him until I'd already snapped. Heat crawled up my neck at the mory of him calling attractive. I'd hidden behind my anger so I wouldn't blush like so kid. Even then, sitting on that bench with him, I'd let myself talk for longer than I ant to.
Feeling like I was losing the conversation, mostly because I didn't understand myself much these days, I turned my back on the Cullen and walked into the woods when a thought hit .
I stopped and glanced back at her, "You never did answer . Why aren't you with him?"
For the first ti, her calm wavered. Just a flicker. Her eyes looked almost… lost. It was a look I was familiar with, one I had seen in the mirror. No, one I still see when I think of Sam.
She took a mont to answer, her eyes looked lost. "Because so journeys can only be made alone. I look forward to eting you again, Miss Clearwater."
I didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply. I turned and strode into the trees, every step faster than the last. Branches brushed my legs, and my footsteps splashed in the occasional puddle. I wasn't running—hell no, not from her—but my body hadn't gotten the mo. My pulse was a hamr in my ears, every breath sharp.
Sothing told that if I stayed in her presence much longer, I wouldn't be able to keep my anger down. Just being near her made it want to explode.
But no matter how far from her I got, her voice stayed with . Calm, steady, like she hadn't even needed to think before cutting open with a handful of words. He has spoken of you.
I'd gone into those woods to bleed off anger. Instead, I'd walked straight into sothing else entirely—sothing I couldn't na yet, but it was heavier, ssier. And it wasn't going away anyti soon.
When I finally pushed off the tree and started back toward ho, the sky was dimming. I told myself I'd never go near that clearing again. That I'd stay away from her, from all of them. From his rock.
But I already knew I was lying.
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