Petrichor ~ P.L.

Chapter Twenty-One

Paul watched as Carlisle Cullen finished bandaging his unconscious imprint.  Too many thoughts swirled in his head.  How was she a shifter?  How could she overpower Jacob?  How could he have been so stupid? 

He and the pack should have told her the truth the moment he had miraculously imprinted.  Quileute blood or not. 

But she had to be Quileute one way or another.  There was no other way she could bare the shifter gene.  The question was, who had given it to her.  

Paul jolted from his thoughts, Carlisle having stood up from his place kneeling beside his beautiful imprint.  Even unconscious, covered in dirt and blood, she could still bring him to his knees.  

"She's stable.  Healing," Carlisle looked to Paul inquisitively, "She'll be fine," 

Paul's muscles relaxed slightly at the words, his shoulders sagging. 

"Especially given she is a shifter, but supposedly born from two humans. Do you know...?" The doctor trailed off with a curious look.  

Paul shook his head, voice gravelly," No. I...I have no idea how."  He had already attempted to come up with an explanation over the time it took for him to bandage Adair but to no avail. 

The vampire nodded, "I see," he glanced back towards her, "She should wake up soon.  I will confer with whatever resources I have, as I'm sure Sam already is, over how this has happened." 

Paul echoed his nod, "Thank you.  For everything." 

Carlisle, who had come despite the feud between the two smiled grimly, "Take care." 

Paul nodded and remained in his spot well after he had collected his things and left out his front door.  

Paul could think of no one else to call other than his enemy.  But that didn't matter to him.  No blood feud or anything really could get in the way of his imprint receiving the best care possible.  

It hadn't come as too much of a sock to the doctor when he got Paul's pleading call, Alice had seen it in a vision.  Leeches and their superpowers. 

Rubbing his hands up and down his face, he sighed in contemplation of his next move.  No strategy ran through his mind.  

So Paul sat and listened to his imprints heartbeat and breathing. The steady beat confirmation that she is no longer bleeding out in his arms and instead here, safe.  

----------------------------- 

Pine and cedarwood accompanied by musk washed over me as I slowly came back to consciousness.  I winced and blinked rapidly, attempting to get used to the light. 

I tensed, an oh so familiar table and living room coming into focus.  A tv sat across from me atop an oak tv stand, movies and games spilling out of its shelves.  

A dark green carpet lead to a small dining room table accompanied by four chairs, also oak.  Memories of Paul and I playfully arguing over card games on stormy days, cups of hot chocolate in hand, flooded my mind.  We had been so close.  Had been. 

Shaking my head to try and force away those memories, sharp pain struck my neck. My breath caught, the pain a reminder of all that had happened maybe an hour or two ago.  Actually, I had no idea how long it had been since I passed out. 

In Pauls arms 

Embarrassing. 

A clang and hurried footsteps sounded from the kitchen followed by Paul rushing into the room.  His warm brown eyes worriedly raked over me, scanning for any injuries.  He sighed and relaxed upon realization that I was fine.