Spirit Guardian

Lost Flames Reaching Through Sorrowed Shadows

                    Leah's heart clenched. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing Koda's. "But You escaped," she whispered.

                    Koda nodded, her jaw tight. "I fought back and clawed my way out. But another werewolf attacked me—The Cullens intervened and killed the attacker. But I was broken, bleeding. Dying," she replied, then her gaze locked with Leah's. "...They saved me," Koda says. Leah's mind reels at the thought of the transformation—the agony, the loss. Koda's eyes filled with tears. "I should have felt relief, but his touch still haunts me," she admitted as her voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken grief as if sadness had stolen the strength from her voice. Leah's chest tightened. The rain outside beat a mournful cadence, echoing the ache in her heart. She squeezed Koda's hand, their souls entwined in a battle against tragedy. Leah wondered if love alone could protect them from the shadows that threatened to consume them both.

                    "Ku," Leah whispered, testing the name on her tongue. A phantom rage simmered within her. "He won't take you. Not again," she proclaimed confidently. Koda opens her mouth to speak, but Leah interrupts her by leaning towards the hybrid, her breath mingling with Koda's. "I won't let him touch you... you're mine," she whispered, but the primal look in Leah's eyes told Koda it was the wolf speaking. The room pulsed with the primal energy, a symphony of longing and fear. Leah's wolf prowled within her, restless and wild. Since her first shift and Koda leaving Forks, it had been a silent companion lurking beneath her skin. But now it surged forth, demanding recognition. Koda sat before her—an enigma, her imprint. They hybrids eyes held galaxies, secrets etched into their depths. Leah's wolf recognized her as both prey and salvation. The room seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing against her chest, urging Leah to surrender. Koda's lips were like a fragilely sweet invitation. Her past was etched in scars, a tapestry of pain that Leah could only glimpse. But now, in this charged moment, Koda was more than a survivor. She was a beacon—a lifeline that Leah's wolf yearned to claim. 

                    The imprint bond pulsed between them, a tether that defied logic. Leah's wolf howled, urging her to taste Koda's lips, to claim her as a mate. But love held her back—the fragile human part that whispered of vulnerability and tenderness. "Koda," Leah whispered as her wolf snarled, wanting to mark its imprint and brand her as their mate. She traced the curve of Koda's jaw, her touch gentle yet insistent. The gentle gesture takes Koda by surprise, but she can't help but lean into the warm touch. "....Kwop kilawtley," Leah whispered in her native tongue. Then, what was left of her self-control broke, and she lunged forward, closing the gap between them. Their kiss was a revelation—a collision of pain, yearning, and healing. Koda's mouth yielded a silent surrender. The she-wolf pressed closer, seeking solace in the warmth of Koda's lips. The room faded away, leaving only the two of them—a broken warrior and a fierce protector. Leah's fingers tangled in Koda's hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Koda's hands found their way to Leah's waist, pulling the she-wolf into her lap and flush against her body. The ache of their shared history fueled the kiss. Leah's heart swelled, aching with the weight of love and fear. Koda tasted salvation on Leah's lips, a fragile hope that defied the pain within. When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Leah rested her forehead against Koda's.

                    "Leah," Koda murmured, her voice raw. "I've never wanted anything more than this," she whispered, and then her lips brushed Leah's once more. In that single moment within Koda's arms, the she-wolf found her sanctuary, her haven against the raging world. 'Why did I fight this for so long?' Leah thought, wishing she had given in the moment her eyes had met Koda's.

                    After breakfast, Koda tended to Leah's wounds with a gentle precision. The five deep cuts across Leah's cheek, remnants of last night's battle, throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat. At that moment, she remembers something Ku had said that made no sense to her. "Tiny," she addressed Koda by her affectionate nickname. "What did Ku mean? What history are we missing?" Leah asked as Koda's fingers moved deftly, wiping away the dried blood from her cheek. The scent of wet pine needles and earth hung in the air as she worked.