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Edward hesitated for a moment before leaving. He stood a few meters from Nate, as if the very idea of abandoning him in that clearing made him uneasy. Finally, with some reluctance, he asked:
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? If he comes transformed, you won't be able to understand him… and if he returns with the whole pack, you might need help."
Nate shook his head. The confidence in his voice left no room for question.
"No. He will come alone, and he will come to talk. He'll want to confirm that, indeed, I'm a vampire now."
Edward frowned. He wasn't entirely convinced and insisted again.
"And what will I tell Alice if I come back alone? She won't be calm if I leave you here."
Nate looked him directly in the eyes. His gaze was cold, determined, leaving no space for debate.
"She trusts me. I won't ask you again. Go."
A heavy silence settled between them. Edward drew a deep breath, as if gathering strength. He let out a long sigh and nodded sharply. He walked a few steps with calm, turned to glance one last time at Nate, and then ran at full speed, disappearing among the trees toward his house.
Nate remained motionless in the forest. The night enveloped him completely, and if any human had passed nearby, they might not have noticed him at all. He was like a statue, blending with the darkness.
He stayed that way for nearly an hour, still trapped in his own thoughts. Part of him wished he could skip the upcoming conversation; being in Forks stirred emotions he had preferred to keep sealed for a long time. Yet, he reflected bitterly that sometimes life—even an immortal life—forced one to confront the inevitable.
As he meditated, familiar sensations began to reach him. First, the sense of smell: that pungent wet-dog odor, this time even stronger than when he had crossed paths with the other two wolves. Then hearing: short, cautious steps, like someone trying to approach without fully announcing themselves.
Nate half-smiled. It wasn't joy, but irony. He knew Jacob well enough to predict this. And he had been right: Jacob had come alone, and he had done so in his human form.
It took only a few seconds before Nate caught sight of him among the trees. Nate looked up and studied him carefully. He had changed too much. The first thing Nate noticed was his height: Jacob was now easily taller than him. His muscles had grown in volume, his presence imposing in a different way. His hair was short, and on his arm, a tribal tattoo stood out, speaking of belonging, identity, and commitment to his pack.
Nate felt an unexpected pang inside, an echo of feeling he hadn't anticipated. Jacob seemed like a completely different person from the one he had known long ago.
They stared at each other in silence for several seconds. Nate couldn't read minds like Edward, but Jake was like an open book. For a moment, Jacob's eyes lingered on the parts of Nate's body not covered by clothing, where the pale skin was noticeably different from what he remembered. Then, with a subtle gesture, he sniffed the air; his brow furrowed immediately, almost as if the stench were unbearable.
Finally, his eyes returned to Nate's. A fleeting pang of sadness crossed Jacob's face, but it was replaced within seconds by a hardened frown. He had arrived with a calm aura, perhaps still with doubts, but the more Nate observed him, the clearer became the contained fury that filled him.
Contrary to his usual pragmatic nature, Nate decided to wait. He didn't try to justify anything or fill the silence with words. Almost as if granting Jacob the space needed to accept what was already undeniable: his new reality.
The calm was broken by Jacob's voice, hard and sharp, almost a challenge in itself.
"Nathaniel…"
The simple sound of his name, spoken like that, hit like a blow. Nate felt a sting of disappointment. It was only a word, but it made clear how things would be from that moment on. He straightened his posture, firm, marking his own ground of challenge.
"Jacob…"
Silence weighed between them again, dense and suffocating. Jacob began walking in circles around Nate, his steps slow, measured. There was some distance between them, though not so much that a quick leap couldn't close it instantly. Yet, Nate didn't bother following him with his eyes; they remained fixed forward, as if that act posed no threat.
"I didn't want to believe it when I heard Seth and Leah's thoughts… but it seems true…"
Jacob breathed a bit heavier, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Now you're one of those leeches…" he said, continuing his circling with Nate in the center.
Nate corrected him immediately. His tone wasn't angry, just cold, distant.
"Vampire, Jacob…"
Jacob's frown deepened further. His voice sharpened into an edge of defiance.
"Leech, a cold one, vampire… It's the same. Now you're a monster…"
Nate's expression didn't change. That indifference seemed to fuel Jacob's anger even more, making the blood in his veins boil with every second of silence.
"You read about my people in your father's diary… and yet… now you're one of them…"
Nate remained unmoved. A small, almost ironic smile appeared on his lips. He answered calmly, each word heavy as lead.
"You say it as if I were the only one who changed…"
Jacob's frown hardened further, his steps striking the ground more firmly.
"That's different! Mine was natural… it was my destiny… Yours was just a mistake…"
Jacob's steps became faster, more aggressive, as if the circle he traced around Nate were a cage about to close. Nate, trying to maintain calm, responded with a hint of irritation in his voice.
"The only mistake was not doing it sooner…"
Jacob's eyes widened at that. His gaze darkened with a look of betrayal.
"I don't know what those Cullen leeches told you to convince you… But now your existence is marked by death. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you will always bring danger to people…"
Nate's brow furrowed, and the patience he had tried so hard to maintain began to crack.
"They didn't tell me anything. Not even one of them bit me. It was a choice I made, knowing it would change everything…"
Jacob's eyes narrowed, dissecting every word, trying to find a lie among them. His voice came out grave, distrustful.
"Then it wasn't that little Cullen leech who bit you…"
Nate's gaze intensified. His eyes locked on Jacob's with a dangerous glint, and when he spoke, his low, deep tone cut through the silence like a knife.
"Be careful, Jacob…"
The air seemed to thicken between them. Jacob felt, for a fleeting moment, the weight of those eyes—a pressure that made him falter, if only slightly. There was a spark of doubt, an almost imperceptible flicker in his firmness… but he did not back down.
He held his gaze stubbornly, chest rising with contained rage, as if to make clear that he was not intimidated.
Jacob snorted, a mocking edge barely hiding his anger.
"Or what? Are you going to kill me? You must have been that for some time… how many innocent people have died because of your decisions?"
Nate's eyes turned icy, colder than ever. His lips curled into a hard, tight line before he responded in a voice deep enough to freeze the air.
"Only one…"
Jacob's eyes narrowed, sparking with anger.
"I suspected as much… Even if those Cullens say they'll never hurt anyone, I know it's all lies. And you! You've been one of them for barely a couple of months, and you've already cost an innocent life… Do you even regret it, Nathaniel? Do you even think of that person?"
Nate's gaze drifted for a moment into the darkness of the forest. His voice softened, almost a whisper that barely hung in the air.
"Every day, Jacob…"
That calm only infuriated Jacob more. The line separating him from losing control thinned rapidly, and his whole body trembled with the threat of transformation. He struggled to contain himself, but his words came out loaded with rage, almost like a restrained roar.
"Do you at least remember their name?"
Nate stayed silent for a second. Slowly, he turned his head toward him, locking eyes as if the gaze alone could provide the answer. Finally, he whispered the name, letting it slice through the night like the weight of an unbearable secret.
"Margaret Winter…"
Jacob's eyes widened in disbelief. The words froze him, as if they made no sense.
"W-what?"
Nate began walking toward him, each step measured, inexorable.
"You asked if any innocent person had died because of my decisions… and they did. My grandmother died because of me… because I had the foolish idea that she would be safe here… by the Cullens… by the Quileute… by Edward… and by you."
He spoke the last word just as he stopped in front of Jacob, face to face. The doubt in the wolf's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by blind fury. With a swift and brutal motion, Jacob grabbed him by the jacket, squeezing it with such force that the fabric creaked under his fingers.
"How dare you?! You weren't there! I was scared, I didn't know what to do! I did the best I could to protect her!"
Nate's face did not flinch. No matter Jacob's fury, no matter the strength with which he held him, his eyes, relentless, stayed fixed on Jacob's.
"And it still wasn't enough…"
Then, with terrifying calm, Nate raised his hands and grasped Jacob's forearms. The pressure was immediate, devastating: Jacob felt as if the bones in his arms would shatter under that vampiric strength. His breath hitched, and before he could react, Nate released his hold in a single, sharp, dominant motion.
Nate continued in a deep, cutting tone, each word slicing through the night air.
"You've been accusing me of becoming a monster, when all I wanted was the strength to make sure what happened never happens again."
Jacob, still recovering from the grip and breathing heavily, replied with a choked fury, his voice laden with disbelief and pain.
"Becoming the same thing that killed Mrs. Winter?"
The phrase was gasoline. Something in Nate broke. His usual calm cracked for a moment, and for the first time since arriving in Forks, he let his anger surface without filters. He stepped forward, fists clenched, his voice rising with vehemence.
"What was I supposed to do? I can't wait to turn into a useless giant wolf or whatever else! If I had waited for your people to protect the ones I love, I would've lost everything, Jacob."
Jacob reacted with a step of his own, tension vibrating in his skin like a string about to snap. The latent transformation could be felt beneath the surface: muscles tensing, breathing deepening, rage connected to centuries of rules and territories.
"You speak as if you made a difference! You were the one who left! And even if you had been here, she would've died."
Nate didn't let that sentence go unanswered. He stepped closer and, without hesitation, shoved Jacob forcefully. The contact was sharp: Jacob's back slammed against a tree with a crack of bark. A scream, more torn than controlled, erupted from Nate's chest—a human roar filled with guilt and defiance.
"If I had been here, she'd still be alive! If I had fought that vampire, he'd be ashes by now! You and your people can't protect anything!"
The words hung in the air like a burning accusation. Jacob, on the edge, couldn't contain himself. The rage—that mix of helplessness and guilt consuming him—broke the restraint that was his human form. He leapt backward, gathering momentum with both feet, and in a brutal, almost ceremonial sequence, his skin began to peel away as if something inside forced him to change.
The process was violent and primitive: a shudder, an explosion of movement in his muscles. Within seconds, Jacob ceased to be human and transformed into a wolf. The beast that hit the ground was enormous, bear-like in proportions: a mass of muscle covered in reddish fur, burning eyes, jaws open, exuding rage. The entire forest seemed to hold its breath in the presence of this creature.
Without a moment to spare, and with the momentum of the transformation still in his flanks, Jacob lunged at Nate with deliberate violence, forelegs extended, fangs bared. The intent was clear: to tear his head off.