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Nate watched Mike and Eric with a faint smile.
It took him a few moments to tune his hearing amid the chaos of students leaving the building—the shuffle of feet on damp pavement, car doors slamming, scattered laughter. Gradually, their voices began to cut through the noise until they became clear.
First, he heard them laughing at one of Eric's terrible jokes as they headed toward the parking lot. The laughter died down when a pair of cheerleaders passed by, the air thick with perfume and the lightness that always accompanied the end of the school day. One of them smiled flirtatiously at Mike before walking off with her friends.
Mike let out a sigh—the kind that mixed resignation with a hint of fatigue.
Eric, of course, didn't miss the opportunity.
"I never would've guessed I'd graduate with a girlfriend and the great Mike Newton would end up single."
Mike raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. He let go of Eric's arm and gave him a playful shove.
"Sure… you're just saying that because you got lucky and landed a great girl. Angela's way too good for you, man."
Eric burst out laughing without missing a step.
"It's not luck, Mike… It's destiny. Don't hate me for doing things right."
Mike snorted, his grin half-resigned.
"Yeah, well, let's see if Angela finds someone better once you're off to D.C. for college."
Eric widened his eyes dramatically, pretending to be offended.
"Someone better than me? Impossible."
The two started pushing each other again, laughing and joking as if the world were as simple as that single moment.
From a distance, Nate couldn't help but smile.
For a second, their laughter drifted through the cold air—an echo of what his life might have once been: human, simple, filled with meaningless conversations, impossible loves, and promises that vanished with the summer.
"I just hope I meet a good girl in college…" Mike murmured after a while, his tone carrying a trace of hope.
Eric clapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry. You just need to learn to read the signs. That way you won't waste your time chasing another Bella… or end up with another Jessica."
The words landed with the weight of what was left unsaid.
Mike grimaced, lowering his gaze.
"I did have a chance with Bella. If Cullen hadn't been around, things might've turned out differently…"
Eric laughed, genuinely amused.
"Oh, come on. If the Cullens hadn't existed, the one Bella would've gone for was Nate. You never stood a chance, man."
Nate, listening from the shadow of a tree, shook his head slightly—half amused, half nostalgic.
He remembered those first days in Forks, when rumors ran wild and everyone thought he and Bella had something going on. How strange it felt now, the idea of being with anyone other than Alice—utterly unnatural.
He felt Alice's arms tighten slightly around him from behind.
He said nothing, just placed his hand gently over hers—a silent gesture of shared calm.
"Maybe you're right," Mike said after a pause, his voice quieter now. "Still… if she'd gone with Nate, at least we'd have some way to contact him…"
Eric frowned lightly.
"Don't worry. Once I get to D.C., I'll take a minute to look him up. Who knows… maybe in a few months we'll catch up, and I'll tell him all about the mess you made with Jessica."
He let out another laugh, but it faded when he saw Mike's expression.
A few meters away, Mike had stopped walking. His gaze was fixed on Jessica, who was walking alongside a smiling Angela—waving goodbye to Eric—and Bella, trailing behind with her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast.
There was something in her step, in her silence, that made her seem alone, even in the middle of a crowd.
But Mike didn't notice. His attention stayed on Jessica's retreating form, and he murmured, almost to himself,
"I just hope that in a few months, when we meet up again, I'll be able to laugh about all this, too."
Alice, who had been listening just as easily, let out a quiet comment.
"It's a good thing those two never ended up together… Edward told me a few times what that girl was thinking. She's incredibly shallow."
She turned toward Nate, maybe expecting a smile or a light response.
But what she saw instead made her freeze.
Nate's hand was gripping the tree trunk so hard the bark was cracking beneath his fingers, tiny splinters falling to the ground.
His expression had changed—lips tight, jaw locked, eyes red and unblinking—fixed on a single figure in the crowd.
Bella.
There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt, no mere curiosity.
Only hunger—deep, restrained hunger—that burned inside him like a contained flame.
Alice tensed immediately.
She felt the muscles under her hands grow taut, every fiber of his body coiled for a movement he couldn't allow himself to make.
Gently, still behind him, she leaned closer until her lips brushed the air near his ear.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"Nate…"
He blinked—just once—but it was enough to break the spell. He turned his eyes toward her, and that's when Alice noticed what she feared: Nate wasn't breathing.
Her voice was tight when she spoke.
"Now I understand why James caused such a stir…"
Her gaze flicked briefly toward Bella, still walking between the cars, completely unaware.
"I can smell her from here. She smells… so good."
Alice was silent for a few seconds, watching his profile, assessing his state before answering.
Finally, she spoke, her tone grave but calm.
"Yes… Even I have to admit it. Bella's scent is unusually appealing. If I were right next to her blood, it would be a challenge—even for me. I can't imagine how Edward handles it… after all, she's his singer."
Nate nodded slowly, already familiar with the term.
Resisting human blood was a constant struggle—but resisting a scent designed to shatter every ounce of willpower was something else entirely. A test that bordered on the impossible.
He closed his eyes briefly, focusing, letting the silence—and Alice's presence—help him steady himself.
Even without breathing, he turned his gaze back toward the school, to Bella's figure walking slowly toward her old red truck.
"She looks pretty down, doesn't she?" he murmured, calmer now.
Alice followed his gaze and nodded softly.
"She must miss Edward… and that fool hasn't even sent her a message."
Nate rose then, his movement fluid and soundless.
"Well, she won't have to wait much longer. Tomorrow's the day."
Alice smiled faintly, a touch of melancholy in her eyes, as she stood beside him. She was about to reply when her expression suddenly shifted—her eyes clouded over, focused on something only she could see.
Several seconds passed before her voice returned, low and distracted.
"And it looks like Carlisle will make it on time. He'll arrive early tomorrow… with another vampire."
Nate turned to her, alert again.
"It must be the tracker he promised."
A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He'd feared it would take Carlisle longer to convince the vampire to meet with him, but apparently, he wouldn't have to wait.
With a brief nod, they locked eyes for an instant—and without another word, they leaped into the forest, moving with the blinding speed of their kind.
Within seconds, the sound of the school faded behind them.
The cold wind wrapped around them as they raced back toward the Cullen house.
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The return to the house was swift, almost imperceptible to anyone without heightened senses.
Still, when they passed through the doorway, Esme looked up from the hallway, drying her hands with a towel.
"Were you out?" she asked, a slight note of curiosity in her voice, though her smile remained warm.
Alice exchanged a quick glance with Nate before answering.
"We just needed a moment alone. Nothing important."
Esme nodded, understanding, lighting her face with tenderness. She didn't press further; after all, they had only been gone for a few minutes. The idea that they had wanted a quiet moment together seemed explanation enough.
Shortly after, the hum of an engine approached from the hill.
Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper were returning from school. Emmett's laughter broke the calm of the house as they crossed the threshold.
Nate, standing by the window, noticed Jasper observing him from the other end of the room.
It was a brief, analytical look, and though Jasper's expression remained calm, Nate sensed a subtle tension in the air.
With an almost imperceptible gesture, Jasper raised a hand, signaling him to remain still.
Nate understood immediately.
It was likely that Jasper had detected traces of his scent near the school but chose not to mention it in front of the others. That small, silent, protective gesture was enough for Nate to acknowledge it with a slight nod.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly.
Alice stayed by his side, chatting with Esme about trivial things. The atmosphere in the house felt unusually serene, as if everyone, subconsciously, was conserving energy for what was to come.
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At dawn, the distant roar of an engine shattered the forest's stillness.
A line of gray light filtered through the trees as Carlisle's car appeared on the dirt road, kicking up a fine veil of dust.
Nate stood on the porch with Alice when he saw it stop in front of the house.
Carlisle stepped out first, his usual composed elegance intact.
Beside him, a tall, thin man surveyed the surroundings warily, as if every shadow hid something ready to strike.
Nate squinted, scrutinizing the newcomer with growing curiosity.
Carefully, he began to analyze the vampire.
Blond, slightly unkempt, he had a vaguely familiar air reminiscent of James: the same restless, wild presence. Yet whereas James had been confident and openly predatory, this man radiated a different tension—a nearly tangible discomfort, a nervous energy that seeped into each movement.
His eyes briefly landed on Nate, but the instant he noticed he was being observed, he quickly averted his gaze, scanning the environment as if calculating escape routes.
Carlisle, noticing Nate and Alice waiting in front of the house, approached with a courteous smile.
With a subtle gesture, he indicated for his companion to step forward, but the vampire remained rooted to the ground.
Carlisle kept the smile, though slightly muted.
"Please, come in, Alistair. I'd like to introduce you to my family."
Alistair studied him for a few seconds before responding in a dry, somewhat curt tone.
"No, Carlisle. I only came because you insisted too much. I'll speak to the person you want and leave immediately."
Carlisle did not seem offended by the response; rather, he appeared accustomed to his friend's mannerisms. With a soft sigh, he signaled Nate and Alice to step closer.
Nate, who had been listening to the exchange, whispered to Alice,
"Please, keep your family inside. I need him to be comfortable enough to help me."
Alice hesitated for a moment but nodded, returning inside where several had already noticed Carlisle's arrival. She knew Nate would explain everything later.
Calmly, Nate approached the two men. When they were face-to-face, Carlisle made the introductions.
"This is Nathaniel. He's my daughter Alice's partner; he hasn't been with the family long."
Then he turned to his friend.
"And Nate, this is Alistair, an old friend of mine for many decades."
Alistair fixed his gaze on Nate, expectant, as if he wanted to finish this quickly. Every part of his body radiated urgency, impatience, a pressing desire to leave.
Nate extended his hand politely, but Alistair only glanced at it briefly before turning away, murmuring,
"What do you want from me?"
Carlisle interjected in a conciliatory tone.
"Pardon, Alistair, Nate. He's not very accustomed to people… he can be blunt, but he's just someone who prefers to get straight to the point."
Nate was not offended; he simply nodded, understanding, preferring to skip any pleasantries to get straight to Riley.
Carefully, he pulled a small plastic bag from his jacket pocket. Inside was a torn shirt, clearly shredded by an animal's claw, judging by its state.
Carlisle recognized it immediately, frowning. He had seen it intact before.
But Nate gave him no time to ask.
"Carlisle told me you're something of a tracker. I need to find the owner of this shirt as soon as possible."
Alistair examined the garment with a mix of curiosity and caution. True to his nature, he said nothing: he simply took it carefully and brought it close to his face.
He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, tense and focused.
Seconds stretched into minutes. The air grew thick, expectant.
Nate watched intently, body rigid, eyes fixed on any sign that revealed what Alistair had discovered.
Finally, Alistair opened his eyes. His voice was barely a whisper.
"He's close… too close, in fact. Maybe a few minutes away, if you were running."
Carlisle's eyes widened with surprise, about to turn to alert the others inside.
Even Nate—who had remained calm until that moment—changed expression. His features hardened, cold and predatory.
But before he could speak, Alistair continued, brow furrowed.
"Whatever that thing is… It's not alone. There are several more. They smell the same."
For a moment, Carlisle froze, puzzled by his friend's words.
Nate, on the other hand, clenched his fists so tightly that the cracking of his skin echoed through the air.