Disclaimer: The wonderful and magical world of Twilight and New Moon sadly does not belong to me but to the talented Stephenie Meyer, but I love pretending that it does.

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I jumped up into the tree, making more noise than I would have wished. I could hear the leaves tremble with my passing and the branch I landed on buckle a little under my weight. But it held firm and I perched myself as comfortably as I could. I knew Sam and the others would know where I was before long, and what I was doing, but I didn't care.

Bella's window was invitingly open and I wished to myself that it was open for me. But it wasn't. Within moments that…bloodsucker would be in her room, holding her close like I never would again. You don't know that, Jacob, I thought to myself. She might realize how much she misses you and how much he hurt her. She deserves better…she deserves you. My futile wishing, though, would do nothing to change the current situation. All I could do was watch from a far, wondering what fate had in store for me.

Did fate hate me so much? I was a werewolf, a creature. True, I could exercise more control than the others, I even had talents more far-reaching than theirs. But why? So I could loathe that bloodsucker even more than they did, and possibly be able to do something about it? I hated him. He had left Bella, undeserving of her love and forgiveness. He was a monster…in more ways than one.

I often dreamt of killing him. It startled and scared me. I knew I was capable of it, but I couldn't. How could I do that to Bella? How could I take from her what had caused her so much pain to lose before? No, I couldn't do that. It just wasn't fair.

Suddenly, the scent reached me. He was there, swiftly appearing in Bella's room, much to my chagrin and her happiness. Why would she never smile at me like that? I thought I had seen that smile, that smile of utter joy, when she had first come to me after he had left. I had entertained the notion that she might one day care for me as much as she had cared for him. But no, I had never truly gotten that smile. The smile I had gotten was a ghost of the one she reserved for him. It pained me to the core.

The bloodsucker looked around once he was Bella's room, his gaze eventually resting on where I was hidden. I remembered how he could read thoughts. Could he read them right now? Could he read the pain, the torture I was going through? Couldn't he put me out of it, either by leaving Bella forever or killing me himself? It had to be swifter than the depression that threatened to finish me.

For a moment, I thought I saw him look down, his face downcast and guilty, though a touch of anger was there, too. But then there was Bella. Bella was at his side, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and he turned away, his expression softening and he smiled at her. Who was there to comfort me?

I had to leave. I knew in my heart that Bella was his, his forever. But why did she insist on damning herself? I couldn't forget how ill I had felt when she betrayed to me the depths of her love. She was willing to give up her soul for that fiend and become a monster herself. Yes, there was the treaty, but didn't she know that I wouldn't let anything happen to her? Even if she was…one of them?

I watched as Bella laid down for bed, the bloodsucker pulling the blankets around her and laying silently next to her. I saw her face alight with happiness and heard a small sigh escape her. It was too much. I felt my body ripple, the pain of transformation threatening to unleash the beast I tried so hard to resist. But I did, I resisted. I resisted for her. I was not going to be the monster.

Soon she was asleep, and I still couldn't make myself leave. I watched as the bloodsucker watched, wondering how he dared to be with her into the dark hours of the night. He just laid there and watched her, as if nothing pleased him more in the world. But soon I saw his tranquility replaced with concern, and I realized that I had been studying him more than Bella.

Bella had become restless. I saw her toss and turn violently, wishing more than anything that I was the one comforting her and whispering soothing words of love. But I wasn't. Once again, it wasn't me. I could only take pleasure from the fact that she did calm down, that the nightmare was over.

I strained to hear what had caused her so much pain. I wanted to hear more than anything that it was the bloodsucker, that her unconsciousness told her what her consciousness refused to believe – that he was evil. But I heard one word slip from her mouth… Jacob.

I smiled at hearing my name. I wanted to shout out loud, See, you filthy bloodsucker! She doesn't dream about you! She dreams about me! But then I remembered her tumultuous tossing and turning. Had she been afraid for me, for my safety? Or had she been afraid OF me?

I left, not wanting to hear the answer.