Devious | Sam Uley

Devious | Sam Uley

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing3h 20m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Apr 27, 2025
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Fanfic
Twilight
"I won't be the girl you want, and I'm sorry I can't change that." ↴ Vera Copeland never anticipated running into Sam Uley in a sports shop during her first outing in the Forks area. Just as Sam Uley never planned on imprinting on the girl while still being tied to his girlfriend. 》》 ALL RIGHTS OF THE ORIGINAL TWILIGHT SAGA GO TO Stephenie Meyer I only own the characters of Vera Copeland, Steven Copeland, Jamie and Dana Copeland, Izzy Davis and any other characters not related to the original book version. FYI - in this story Sam is 19 while Vera is 18 making the age gap between them one year. I know there is some confusion on ages for Sam relating to how he is portrayed in the books.
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By eighteen, Leah Clearwater had already buried the girl she used to be. Sam Uley's betrayal still sat like glass in her chest when her father died. The grief came in waves, sharp and endless, and just when she thought she'd learned how to stand against it, the change took her. Heat, bone-snap, the first female wolf the Quileute tribe had ever seen - and with it, a fate she swore she'd never accept. Imprinting. On seventeen-year-old Embry Call. He's the boy she's never trusted herself to need - all quiet steadiness and soft eyes, a soul too gentle for the teeth in her. He meets her anger without flinching, shows up when she wants him gone, and sees her like he's known her in a hundred lifetimes. The bond is not romance; it's scripture. It's the tether between storm and shore, the altar she never meant to kneel before. It doesn't care about timing, or grief, or the way she swears she'll never belong to anyone again. It pulls her toward him like the tide, and no matter how she thrashes, she cannot break free. He is her breakwater. Her anchor. Her ruin. And maybe her salvation. Because some loves are not gentle - they're a reckoning. And Leah Clearwater is about to find out what it means to be chosen, in a way that feels less like mercy and more like destiny.

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