Storm on Sacred Soil (Part 1)

The sky over the Sealed Grounds churned with bruised-purple clouds, as if the heavens sensed what stalked below. Rain whispered through the firs but could not quite drown out the thudding of Jacob Black's heartbeat—or the softer, unnatural beat that fluttered inside Bella's chest.

She stood close to the cave mouth the Elders had sealed behind them, one palm resting on her belly. Since Lucian's last surge, her skin no longer shimmered; yet an invisible hum lingered between her ribs, alive and watchful.

Jacob scanned the tree line again. "Nothing but wind," he muttered, though his fingers stayed curled around the hilt of the Fang of the First Flame. The obsidian blade warmed his skin like a coal held too long, promising violence if he merely thought of drawing it.

Bella's golden eyes tracked the distant treetops swaying in the gale. "He'll come," she said, quiet but certain. "Edward won't let the Volturi reach us first. His pride won't allow it."

Lightning forked in the clouds—brilliant, jagged, and close. For a heartbeat the forest glowed silver, and Jacob glimpsed the smoky outline of the carved totems rising behind them: silent witnesses to a crime yet to unfold.

---

Waiting on the Knife-edge

Time crawled. Every rustle made Jacob's shoulders tense; every scent the rain carried set Bella's nose flaring—until, all at once, the air shifted.

Cold.

Too cold for an early-summer storm.

Jacob turned toward the chill and saw him.

Edward Cullen stepped from the shadows as though born of them. No umbrella, no jacket, no quilt of family at his back—only storm water streaming off bronze hair and fury flickering in topaz eyes dulled by sleepless grief.

He halted ten paces away. "Bella." Her name sounded brittle in his mouth. "Come with me now, before this gets worse."

Bella's throat bobbed, but she didn't move. Jacob slid half a step forward, the Fang glinting orange where campfire light kissed its edge. Rain sizzled off the blade.

Edward's gaze flicked to it, then to Jacob's bare feet planted in the mud, and back to Bella's hand resting protectively over her womb. Understanding, sharper than any knife, cleaved through his expression.

"You're really keeping it," he breathed. "Keeping him."

"He is my son," Bella answered. "Our son," she corrected, glancing at Jacob. "And you know hurting him means war with the Pack—and with me."

Edward's jaw tensed until stone-white skin threatened to crack. "That thing inside you—"

"—is a child," Jacob snapped. A low rumble vibrated in his chest, halfway to a growl. Steam curled from the blade as drops of rain struck it. "Say 'thing' again and see how deep this blade'll bury."

Thunder rolled overhead, a giant's slow applause. Edward didn't flinch. "The Volturi are on the move," he said. "I can still bargain with Aro if you leave the wolf and come back. We'll protect you—"

"We?" Bella laughed, raw and disbelieving. "You mean the same family whose house went up in flames after I fled your wedding? The Volturi will use you, Edward, just like they use everyone who hands them power."

For the first time since stepping out of the trees, Edward's façade cracked; sorrow slipped through. "I turned you because I loved you," he whispered. "I never thought you'd—"

"Choose the one whose heart was never cold?" Bella's voice softened but didn't bend. "Don't twist this. You changed me to keep me, not to save me. Lucian is proof my future was bigger than either of us knew."

Wind tore through the clearing, whipping Bella's hair across her face. Edward's eyes tracked the motion, then returned to Jacob, hardening. "Last chance, dog. Walk away."

Jacob smiled—a slow, dangerous baring of teeth. "Alpha blood don't back down, leech. And I'm not alone."

As if summoned, heat flooded the space around him. The rain nearest his skin hissed into mist; the runes along the Fang brightened, ember-red. Bella felt the temperature spike even through the vampire chill under her skin.

Edward's left hand twitched—the tell for a lunge. Bella's throat constricted.

Inside her womb, Lucian stirred.

---

Heartbeat of Power

Thump.

Bella gasped. A ripple of air wobbled the flames in the campfire. Jacob's ears flattened to the howl of rising wind.

Thump-thump.

Pebbles skittered across the forest floor. The tall totems groaned like ship masts in a storm.

Edward froze, head tilting slightly as if listening to some distant, alien sound.

THUMP.

The earth bucked. A seam cracked through soaked soil, splitting toward the vampire's boots. Tree limbs lashed overhead, showering leaves.

Edward's eyes widened. "What—?"

Bella's pupils flared gold-red. "He's protecting us."

A child's voice—soft, curious, and echoing only inside their minds—touched them all.

> "Father. Mother. Stranger. Do not hurt them."

Jacob staggered, stunned by the clarity in Lucian's thought. Edward recoiled as though the voice were a blade pressed to his throat.

The ground heaved. A nearby spruce snapped at the base and toppled between Edward and Bella, roots flailing like tentacles. Rain exploded in a hiss of needles.

Jacob hauled Bella back as dirt geysered upward. Edward blurred to safety, landing in a crouch—but shock flickered on his face. He looked not at Jacob, but at Bella's belly, as if seeing the infant's power unfurling in real time.

Something unseen shifted the air again—this time higher, among the branches. A dark blur dropped: a cloaked figure whose red eyes glinted once before an invisible fist smashed him sideways into a trunk. Bones cracked. The figure—the Volturi scout they never noticed—slid limp to the mud.

Bella clapped a hand over her mouth. Jacob's hackles rose. Edward stared at the body, wine-colored venom leaking from its lip. Horror blossomed behind his eyes.

"He's murdering already," Edward whispered.

"No." Rain plastered Jacob's hair to his brow, but his voice carried steady. "He's defending his pack."

Lucian's presence retreated, leaving only the wet hush of the forest and the distant growl of thunder. The earth stilled. The toppled spruce smoked where its trunk kissed Jacob's blazing blade.

Edward straightened slowly. Rain traced bleak rivers down his cheeks. "If the Volturi feared him before, they'll send an army now."

"We'll be ready," Jacob answered.

Bella met Edward's gaze one last time. "Leave, Edward. Because next time Lucian senses you as a threat… I don't know if I can call him back."

Edward's throat bobbed. Without another word, he vanished into storm and shadow—toward Volterra, toward destiny, or toward damnation.

Bella sagged against Jacob, exhausted. He sheathed the Fang; the runes dimmed. In the sudden hush, the infant's dual heartbeat settled into tranquil rhythm.

Jacob pressed a kiss to Bella's damp hair. "He saved us," he murmured.

She nodded, eyes shining. "And he's only just begun."

Far above, clouds rumbled like distant drums—heralds of a war now truly awakened.