Second Chance at Forever | C. Cullen

008

CHAPTER EIGHT
Revelations

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-Carlisle-

Carlisle was pretty sure that was the hardest thing he's ever had to witness. He knows Jacob imprinted—to Carlisle's granddaughter, no less—but that didn't mean it was easy to sit calmly and passively while the young man's hands comforted his mate, held her close and kept her calm in a way Carlisle couldn't have in that moment. He kept her warm even after the cold water chilled her—Edward told him the story as Jacob had repeated it to him in his mind from what Abigail had said—and kept her panic low. It was Jacob's shoulder she hid her face in, Jacob's body she took warmth and comfort in, Jacob's words that made her giggle beautifully.

And Carlisle would never be able to do that again. By his own choice. He remembers making her laugh and smile, remembered comforting her and keeping her calm, soothing her with words and soft touches. He gave that up in 1955 when he let her die. And now she was back, but it wasn't him that would do any of that stuff. It was Jacob. Or whoever she would choose to love for the rest of her life.

If he couldn't handle it with Jacob, someone who was just her friend, how was he supposed to handle it when those touches were sensual caresses? When the kiss wasn't to her hair, but those soft pink lips? When she was burying her face in his chest to keep passionate cries at bay? When she was sated and satisfied from making love to him?

The beast roared at that, carrying on for hours and hours until Carlisle realized his entire body was trembling enough to shake the whole house, and had been for some time, but luckily nobody said anything. And still the beast carried on, snarling out protection and possession, begging him to make her belong to him before another man did, and it took everything in his power not to go stalk over there and do something he would regret later, like letting her believe that they had any sort of future. It was a moot point, he fought the beast until he felt like he was actually exhausted. It wanted her, he loved her, and neither of them could get what they so desired: the love and tender caring of their beautiful mate.

Nobody commented on what just happened, but all of them were tense with the emotions they weren't willing to express. Edward's eyebrows were drawn tight and his gaze was almost accusing as he stared down Carlisle who took up his usual position in the window. He had been the one there when Jacob had come into sight with Abigail in his arms. It was he who alerted the others; not even Edward had been paying attention. But he had paused and repeated Jacob's words and the fury in Carlisle was so intense it almost suffocated him.

Clearly the wolves weren't there to hurt her; the wolf she had seen was Sam Uley and he never would've done anything to hurt her. Her seeing him had probably been an accident as Jacob also told Edward it was he that noticed she was gone as she wasn't picking up her phone. Once night hit, he had enough and called out the packs to find her, and it was Sam simply sounding the alarm. Carlisle would always be grateful that they found her and brought her home, but that didn't make it settle any easier in his stomach that she was alone in the woods at night with the pack in their wolf forms. He trusted them, but this was his mate, he watched her die once and he was sure he couldn't do it again.

We'll have to leave before that happens, he thought, eyes sliding to Edward. His son stared him down, but finally gave him a solitary, resolute nod. They would have to for Bella's sake anyway, maybe another year or two at most, but that didn't make it any easier. So Carlisle went back out to staring out the window, expression grave and pained as his mind replayed those familiar, horrific memories with those of tonight twisted in.