Blistering Sun II : Shame & Deception

As Time Goes By

Leah

The Cave is cold and dark, save the silvery light reflecting from the ocean's choppy waves.
The bare stone that surrounds our soft moss bed, chills my toes as Tak's hot skin heats my cheek pleasantly. The rough wool blanket that covers us scratches pleasantly and has the rich, earthy scent all good Quileute blankets have.
I remember the day I brought this with me. I've slowly been giving the barren grotto a slight woman's touch with blankets, cushion and towels.
This blanket had made quite the impression on him.
Tak had been so pleased that we still have the tradition of the love blanket in the tribe. Although we no longer make them with dog hair like he remembers from his own childhood.
At least I don't think Maya makes them that way.
I had been so embarrassed when I realised he knew what it symbolised;
Quileute love blankets are given as gifts to newly weds - they are a symbol of love and unity. For us, it is as a romantic a symbol to wrap ourselves with another in one, as a candlelit proposal is to the average American.

The blankets are intricately made, normally by an older, wiser woman of the tribe. In this case, it was one I got from old Maya's cart. She is in the process of deciding a successor whom she will teach how to produce one authentically.
Originally it was going to be me until I moved away with the black pack.

I don't know why I brought this one all those years ago.

It was after Sam has left me for Emily, but before my own transformation; The unexpected phasing that caused my father's heart attack and changed my life forever.

The blanket had just caught my eye as I had brought Maya a fresh batch of Dad's carvings for her to sell.

It's a rich tapestry of azuls and colbalts twisted into intricate and elaborate swirls. There's some silver strands that make it glisten.

In fact now I look a it, It reminds me of Tak's eyes. It's the same vortex blues of his irises.

That's a strange coincidence.

What's the odds of me choosing this exact blanket over ten years before I met the man it reminds me of?

Maybe he is right?
Maybe I am the third wife's reincarnation?

If I'm honest, in my deepest heart, I hope it's true. Not just because he loved her so, but because of how brave and strong she was; How she saved our entire village and in doing so every generation since.
She mattered.
When I allow myself to believe it I feel a overwhelming sense of pride. That then makes me feel egotistical, but it's nice until then.

Leika.
It's a beautiful name.
I had always wondered what it was everytime I heard the story that was filled with everyone's name but hers; every males name.

I wonder if she really did look just like me or its just ancient memories warping to suit Tak's feelings?

I wish I could see what she looked like.
Like a photo or something, but I know that's impossible

I sigh against the warmth of his firm chest.
I wish I could read his mind like I can the other wolves. It would tell me all my answers.
It would tell me the truth of all this.

He let's out a soft snore and I smile at how even in his sleep he can bring me out of my anxiety filled worryings.

Even though I know he's hundreds, maybe even a thousand years old, he reminds me so much of my pack mates.

He doesn't hold himself the way the vampires do, and they technically are so much younger than him. Even Carlisle is a baby compared to my man.

He doesn't have the stick up his arse like Edward or that unsettling stare like Jasper.
Sure Emmett doesn't either, but I think he was a bit strange even when he was human. Plus he's the youngest. Maybe it hasn't caught up with him yet?