"Secrets can only lie in the dark for so long..."
Martha Dévolla had always been a fiery, uncontrollable, ambitious girl since she was young. When her teachers told her to sit still, she leaped about. If the rain poured heavily on her picnic plan...
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AFEROCIOUS ROAR ripped through the once peaceful night. Sam up and alert in an instant, his body coiling in an upright spring. The short yet excessive hairs on his skin stood tall. Although the Quileute slept swift and heavy, he awoke just as fast. His reaction time narrowed three times faster than an average human being.
Something was wrong, that much was clear. It settled in the pit of Samuel's stomach like a parasite harming its host.
The only light in the home was the full moon shining brightly through the barred window. The curtains rustled with the humid breeze. Sam glanced over Martha, making sure she was safe and sound beside him. Her breathing stuttered, fist tightening around the lone sheet he threw over her body in the middle of the night.
She was sweltering and constantly kicking the blankets away. Her brows pinched in the middle of her forehead. He gathered she was having a bad dream and although, he'd want nothing more to lay here and swaddle her with his arms, an instinct told him to stay awake.
Stay ready.
For what exactly? He had no clue.
The sudden sound of crystal snapping, like nails on a chalk board, caused Sam to growl uncontrollably. This spine tingling, disturbing noise is what forcibly drew Martha from her precognitive dream. Her eyes flashed open, briefly shifting a glowing orange. "What was that?" She blinked between harsh breaths, placing a hand on her chest.
Sam deeply frowned, annoyed she was disturbed from her sleep as well. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." He ripped the sheets of his expansive body, standing from the ground easily.
Martha was a little slower, pressing against her rounding stomach and the wall behind her for balance. She tried to rush to her mate's side, glancing out the barred window with apprehension. "Wait, Sam wait. W-what if," She swallowed shallowly. "What if it's a c-cold one."
She didn't know how she came to such a conclusion, but the answer was simply there. It seemed Sam thought the same as well. That is, he didn't look surprised when she mentioned it.
His gut tightened when he took in her face skewed in worry. Her lower lip unconsciously puckered out and her face rounding as she continued into her pregnancy. She never looked so small and delicate. Forcing a smile, which felt more like a grimace, he cupped the sides of her face and sent her a reassuring look. "You don't need to be worried, Marti. I was created for stuff like this. I'll be back."
