" i never thought
that i'd meet
someone as
amazing as you "
--- Forks, Washington was a town that not very man people knew about. With the population just barely brimming over two thousand people, everyone knew everyone. And there...
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Ever since Cayla had fainted in his arms that night, he hasn't been able to see his imprint since and it has been killing him. The last time they saw one another was after Paul set down Cayla on the couch, he had been pushed out of her parents.
The next day he texted her to ask if she was okay, no response. He then called her, sent to voicemail. Texted her again, left on delivered. Paul even called the family house phone, but all he got was Cayla's angry mother on yelling at him that she was busy, and would be for a few days, but that seemed like a vague answer, that made Paul wonder if his imprint was actually safe.
Everyone could see how Cayla's absence was affecting Paul. He had lost his appetite, and wasn't as rowdy as he usually was. Instead of his main emotion being anger, it morphed into sadness. Sam knew that Paul needed to get his head screwed back on so they could refocus on training him to be a better shifter, so he decided that he would stop by the Hyan household.
Sam refused to tell Paul. He just knew if he went to go check on Cayla, Paul would want to desperately go, and then while they were there he could lose control and— well we all know what would happen after that.
So, Sam went up to the door of the home of four and rang the doorbell. Her mother opened it and crinkled her eyebrows. "Do I know you?"
Sam shook his head. "No, but I think there's something we need to discuss." The Hyan rose her eyebrows in surprise and gestured for him to continue. "We know that Cayla is different."
"Come in, come in." Mrs. Hyan hurriedly said to the pack leader, closing the door behind him.
Sam walked in and sat on the couch, Mrs. Hyan joining him. "Hi, I'm Cayla's mother, you can call me Florence."
"I'm Sam— uh Sam Uley." The man opened his mouth to speak again but stopped as he heard a weak voice call out.
"Mom?" The frail voice spoke. Sam twisted his head around to see Cayla at the top of the staircase. His face dropped instantly as he viewed her condition. Her skin looked paler than it already was, there were deep purple bags resting under her eyes. She looked skinnier, almost deathly. Her hair was scraggly and all over the place. Death seemed to be radiating from the poor girl. "Oh Sam, how nice to see you." She smiled as best as she could, with the little to no emery left in her.
"Cayla! You should be resting." The mother barked at her child. Sam glanced at the older woman in shock, wondering why her she was letting her daughter suffer instead of taking her to get professional help.
"I know I'm sorry. I'm just tired of being stuck in my room the whole day." Cayla started to carefully walk down the stairs. She put most of her weighty on the handrail, seeing as her legs were about as brittle as spaghetti noodles.
