The Turning of Jacob Black

Chapter Two: March 15th 1592

Sir Jacob Black awoke as the tendrils of light crept across his sleeping face. His face was worn and handsomely dishevelled. Running his hand across his face, he noticed a perfect crimson spot of blood on it. Baffled, he slowly looked around, deciphering clues as to what had happened.

His wife’s dismembered corpse lay upon the four-poster bed. Her throat torn out, the blood had stained the white satin bed-sheets. Jacob surveyed the macabre scene. He was furious.

“Those murderous beasts!” He howled wolfishly in pain. Emotional pain. The butler came running to his aid immediately.

“Bella! My beautiful wife! My angel! What pain is this! Ah, me!” He threw himself back onto the pillow, and wept. Noticing the butler, he continued.

“What happened? Your face is a mess!”

“You…you’re…my lord, it was you!” The butler replied. “You, you’re a…a…Werewolf.”

“Oh no, not me. I never lose control,” Lord Jacob replied, cobalt eyes tearing up as he regarded his dead wife, “Your face…”

The butler smiled bitterly and shook his head. “Oh, it was you…those beasts. They changed you.”

Lord Jacob stared with horror as he suddenly realised what he had done. His wife! His beloved, what had he done? And Cullen…his striking face, marred forever by a careless swipe with a wolf paw.

“I…Cullen…” Words failed him, “I’m…sorry…”

Edward reached out to him, sympathy in his beautiful eyes. Edward, sensing the black depths of his pain, took his hand and drew him from the room. Closing the door on the horror inside, he led him to a spare bedchamber nearby. “You shouldn’t stay there...you weren’t to blame...”

Through his tears Jacob realised how greatly he relied on this man. His heart swelled with too much raging emotion – loss, grief, horror, self-loathing, loneliness and need.

“Still this pulsing night, a plague I call a heartbeat! Kill me, Cullen…” Jacob pleaded with him, his cobalt eyes begging for release from this life. How could he live, knowing he was a monster?

“How can I live, knowing I am a monster?” he said, giving voice to his thoughts, “hurting the two people I love most…”

“…Love? You love me?” Edward asked tremulously, incredulously.

“Kill me Cullen!” shrieked Sir Jacob. Edward’s pale and beautiful face became dark with anger. Taking his master’s hand, he placed it on himself.

“Feel my blood enraged, it’s just the fear of losing you! I won’t kill you! I love you so.” The words hung in the air, and Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Could it be true? Cupping Edward’s face in his hands, he spoke softly, though his grief.

“Your eyes, so green...I could stare for a thousand years…I love you Cullen...Edward. I want to be in you.” Edward, acquiescing, kissed Jacob Black tenderly. Their smouldering eyes met in a blaze of passion, as their burning loins pressed together.

“I love you, Edward...stay with me”, whispered Jacob, burying his grief in ardour.
***
Birds sang, and there were flowers.