Fell For You

The Cat and the Messenger

Luke sighed as he crossed the road, sunlight glinting off his dark hair. At six feet tall with lean muscle and a posture that screamed confidence, he wasn't exactly inconspicuous — but he didn't seem to mind the attention. A group of girls passing by giggled, whispering his name before they even knew it. He smirked.

Blend in, they said.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending to be just another teenager wandering through sleepy La Push. But even as he walked, he could feel eyes on him — watchful, silent, the air behind him humming like a current. He didn't look back. Not yet.

Then, in perfect Luke fashion, he walked straight into a metal post.

"Seriously?" He stumbled, glaring at it as if it had insulted his ancestors. "Who puts a post in the middle of the street!"

He gave it a swift kick. Pain shot up his foot. "Ow—damn it! Real metal?!" He hissed and hopped on one leg toward the nearest convenience store. A couple walking past slowed.

"Keep walking, babe, don't stare," the boyfriend muttered, steering his girlfriend away.

If only he knew she wasn't staring because Luke was ridiculous — but because he was beautiful.

Inside the mart, Luke grabbed a bottle of water and sauntered to the counter. The cashier — a girl with glossy lip balm and nervous hands — scanned it twice, cheeks turning pink.

"It's on discount," she stammered.

"Is it now?" His smirk was enough to make her drop the change.

He winked, pocketed the bottle, and walked out, hearing her muffled squeal as the door closed.

Outside, he twisted the cap and drained half the bottle in one go. Then, with careless aim, he tossed it aside.

It hit a stray cat.

The creature yowled, arched its back, and hissed at him — then, in true cat fashion, decided it loved him instead. It rubbed its face against his leg, purring loudly.

"Oh, come on," Luke groaned. "Not today."

He crouched and set the cat aside. "Shoo."

The cat purred louder and rubbed against his ankle again.

He sighed. "You have attachment issues."

After a few failed attempts to walk away — each ending with the cat glued to his jeans — Luke finally lost his patience. He nudged it away with his foot. It thought he was playing.

"Alright, that's it." He exhaled, stepped back, and gave one firm kick.

The cat flew, screeching, disappearing into the line of trees.

Luke watched it go, then dusted his hands off casually. "Relax, cats land on their feet." A grin tugged at his lips. "Probably."

He whistled a lazy tune as he continued down the path, heading straight for the forest.

⸻

From the shadows, a low growl broke the silence.

Paul's voice. "That's it. I'm done. You guys can stalk him all day — I'm out."

The other wolves crouched behind the thicket, their dark clothes blending perfectly with the underbrush.

Embry shot him a look. "You felt what Mel felt this guy feels wrong we're supposed to investigate."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Yesh so Sam said you investigate. I came to find dirt, and the only thing this guy's done is abuse a cat and flirt with cashiers."

He snorted, stripped, and phased — his russet wolf disappearing between the trees before anyone could argue.

Embry groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He's impossible."

Seth crouched lower beside him, sharp eyes tracking Luke. "He's also right. There's something off about him."

"You sure it's not the jealousy talking man?" Embry quipped.

Seth growled at him. "For the fifth time it's not jealousy!"

Embry lowered his head.

Seth shifted his gaze back to Luke and the feeling of Melody being weirdly drawn to him at an instinctive state flashed through him.

He gritted his teeth.

Everyone else groaned, feeling it from Seth too from the mind link.

"Oh come on you can't tell me that's not jealousy!" Embry complained.

"I'm outta here man." Paul walked away, hands thrown in the air surrender.

Quil sighed. "We can sit here gossiping like teenage girls, or we can follow him before he vanishes again."

"Good point," Seth muttered, already moving. The remaining pack members followed quietly on foot — shifting now would've been too risky.

Luke moved deeper into the woods until he reached an ancient oak. He sat beneath it, stretching his long legs out and tilting his head back to admire the canopy. For a moment, he looked like just another kid enjoying nature.

But the way his eyes scanned the horizon — cold, calculating — told a different story.

He unzipped his bag, pulled out his phone tangled in headphone cords, and sighed. "Always the mess." He untangled them, put the buds in, and pressed play. Fireflies by Owl City flooded his ears.

Seth blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

Embry frowned. "What?"

"He's... texting. On WhatsApp. While listening to—" Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Never mind."

As they all walked away Luke's lip twitched into a smirk.

Luke's thumbs moved across the screen, fast and deliberate.

I found it. It's a girl. And she's as dangerous to herself and those around her as we thought.

Thousands of miles away, in the serene labyrinth garden of the Elder Council, the morning air was perfectly still — until a faint ping echoed from the silver table.

Elder Azeizal squinted down at the glowing screen, the light reflecting in his storm-grey eyes. His ancient fingers fumbled over the phone before a rare smile crept across his face. "Look, look! It worked. Tigris just WhatsApped me."

The other elders leaned in like curious schoolchildren.

"Ah," murmured Violeta — the eldest of them, her silver hair shimmering in the light. "So it's true then."

Azeizal's smile faded, his voice turning grave. "Yes. The hybrid exists."

He began typing, slow and deliberate:

Confront her.
And carry out the massage—

"No, no, you old twat, it's spelled with an E!" Violeta snapped, her voice sharp enough to make even the breeze hesitate.

Steve, the short and stout elder in a scuffed leather coat, snorted. "It's fine. He'll know what we mean."

Violeta turned her glare on him, her eyes practically glowing. "He is the most efficient assassin of his generation, you walnut. He follows instructions exactly. He'll literally give that poor hybrid a massage if we send that."

Azeizal sighed, deleting the word with exaggerated patience. "Gentlemen— and lady— it's best to trust the 400-year-old Elder."

Violeta's face flushed crimson. "A man should never reveal a woman's age."

Steve smirked. "Relax, Vio. You don't look a day over 280."

Azeizal made an exaggerated gagging noise. "Oh, for heaven's sake." He pressed send.

The phone beeped again, confirming the message's delivery.

Far across the world, deep in the quiet woods of La Push, Luke's phone vibrated in his palm. He looked down, eyes glinting.

A slow smirk spread across his face.

"Orders received."