BOREALIS ☽ Leah Clearwater ✔

Chapter 7... Back

Jacob's voice was husky with all the breath sucked out of it. "You... saw... what?"

"I saw another werewolf," I repeated, carefully enunciating each word so there was no way he could mistake what I said.

There was another sharp intake of breath, then... "Where?" he demanded, furious. "When?"

"While I was running in the woods, near—" I cut myself off. Did I want to let him know where I was?  "—where I'm staying."

"No way, no way," Jacob chanted, hardly listening to me at all. "No way. That's impossible, Leah. Impossible. How can you be sure?"

I felt my face crumple into a frown. "Because I'm a werewolf, Jake, so I think I'd know. It was too big to be a normal wolf, for starters. And it didn't act like a normal wolf."

Jacob swore. "Where are you? I'll come meet you, we'll figure this out together."

"Jake, no," I said, my hackles raising. "Remember how I said I needed space?"

"Leah, I'm sorry, but finding another werewolf takes precedent over your need for space," he snapped. He took a deep breath, then continued, his voice calmer. "You need to tell me, Leah. I'm genuinely worried. This werewolf could be dangerous."

Sudden tears stung my eyes. "Jake, please..."

But he wouldn't relent. By the time we had gotten off the phone, he had all but ordered me to give me my exact location; when I initially refused he, too, threatened me with a Cullen-lead search party. Having those bloodsuckers show up too would be too much, so I gave in and gave him the hotel's address. He promised me that he'd be there by tomorrow at the latest.

At least I got him to promise to not tell Sam or the rest of the packs.

After hanging up, my stomach growled, bringing attention to the ravenous hunger that was only getting worse. It had been hours since I had eaten at the diner and I had slept through breakfast. Being out all night had really thrown off my schedule.

I quickly threw on some clean clothes and headed out, grabbing my purse on the way. I intended to head down the road, back to the diner, but as I rounded the corner and walked past the front office and tavern, my stomach let out a ferocious growl that rivaled any of wolf's. It would not tolerate a walk... It wanted food now.

The tavern's open sign blinked feebly, its brightness out-shined by the midday sun. It was too early for anyone respectable to want a drink, so it must be serving food. This place was too nice—well, nice for a off-highway motel—to house a seedy bar.

I took a single step towards the door, then hesitated. Though my wolf-induced growth spurt made me look like I was ten years older than I was, I wasn't sure I had the ID to corroborate it. I quickly dug out the fake drivers license Alice had supplied, and checked the birth year.

1983. Old enough to make me twenty five. Alice Cullen, you are a miracle, I thought as walked through the door.

The little bar was surprisingly bright; large picture windows ran across all the exterior walls, each with a wide booth below. But the windows were tinted, and the protective film gave the light an orange haze. The air was aggressively fresh, but my heightened sense of smell detected a hint of long-stale cigarette smoke...

"Can I help you?"

My head snapped around, finding a bright white smile waiting for me. A perky-looking girl was standing there, smiling at me. Her tan skin was fresh and smooth, her shiny black hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail, and she was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt with matching slacks with a little white apron wrapped around her waist. Obviously a waitress.