Bella's resolve to visit the Black family solidified the next morning. It was Saturday, and the cloudy sky over Forks promised rain. Charlie had mentioned heading to the station early, leaving Bella alone for most of the day. She decided it was the perfect time to seek answers.
As Bella drove toward La Push, her heart pounded with anticipation. Though her memories from her previous life gave her an inkling of the truth, she knew she couldn't rely solely on them. She needed confirmation—something solid to explain the strange pull she felt toward the Quileutes and why the forest and the sea seemed to call to her in a way they hadn't before.
When Bella pulled up outside the Black family home, Jacob was already on the porch, tinkering with what looked like an ancient motorcycle. He grinned when he saw her.
"Hey, Bella! Twice in one week. I'm starting to feel special."
Bella rolled her eyes, smiling as she climbed out of the truck. "I was hoping I could talk to your dad."
Jacob's grin faltered slightly, replaced by a look of mild curiosity. "Sure. He's inside. Come on."
He led her into the cozy, slightly cluttered living room, where Billy Black sat in his wheelchair, watching a Mariners game on an old TV. He looked up as they entered, his expression lighting up with recognition.
"Bella Swan," Billy said warmly. "Haven't seen you since you were little. How's Charlie?"
"He's good," Bella replied, smiling. "Fishing more than ever."
Billy chuckled. "Sounds about right. What brings you out here?"
Bella hesitated, glancing at Jacob. "I wanted to ask you about... the legends. The ones about the Quileutes."
Billy's expression shifted subtly, his gaze sharpening as though he were trying to gauge her intentions. "What about them?"
Jacob perked up, clearly interested. "You mean the stories about the spirit warriors and stuff? Those are awesome."
"Yeah, those," Bella said, trying to keep her tone casual. "I've just been curious since I moved back. I thought it might help me feel more connected to the area."
Billy studied her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I suppose I could share a few. But you should know, Bella, these aren't just stories to us. They're part of who we are."
Bella nodded, her heart racing. "I understand."
Billy gestured for her to sit, and Jacob plopped onto the floor beside her, his excitement palpable. As Billy began recounting the tale of the Quileute spirit warriors, Bella listened intently, trying to piece together the details she already knew with what he was telling her.
He spoke of the tribe's origins, the transformation of warriors into wolves to protect their people, and the ongoing legacy of their guardianship. As he described the shifting process, Bella couldn't help but feel a deep, visceral connection to the story. It was as though a spark within her had been lit, resonating with every word.
"And the Cullens?" Bella asked cautiously. "Where do they fit into all of this?"
Billy's expression darkened slightly. "The Cullens... they're different. Not like the others we've dealt with before. They've kept their word so far, but that doesn't mean we let our guard down."
Jacob looked at her curiously. "Why are you so interested in all this, anyway?"
Bella hesitated. "I've just... been noticing things. The way the forest feels, how alive everything seems here. It's like there's something I can't quite put my finger on."
Billy's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he leaned back in his chair. "The land has its own power, Bella. Some people feel it more strongly than others."
Bella nodded, though her mind was racing. Billy's words felt like an acknowledgment of something deeper, something he wasn't saying outright. But pressing him further might raise suspicion, and she wasn't ready for that yet.
Later, as Bella walked back to her truck, Jacob followed her.
"So, what do you think?" he asked, leaning casually against her truck's door.
"I think the stories are fascinating," Bella said honestly. "It makes me wonder how much of them could be true."
Jacob grinned. "You sound like my dad. He's always talking about how the legends are real."
Bella smiled, though her mind was already miles away. If Billy's hesitation and Jacob's enthusiasm were any indication, the Quileutes' secrets were closer to the surface than she'd thought. And if her instincts were right, her connection to those secrets might be more personal than she'd realized.
That night, Bella sat on her bed with her sketchbook in hand. Instead of drawing, she wrote down everything she could remember from Billy's stories, along with her own fragmented memories from her previous life. The pieces didn't fit together perfectly, but they were enough to paint a picture—one that hinted at a connection between her and the Quileute shifters.
Her thoughts drifted to Rosalie again. If she shifted, as the legends suggested, how would that change things? Would it drive her further away from Rosalie, or would it force the vampire to confront the bond Bella was certain existed between them?
Bella closed her sketchbook and set it aside. Whatever the answers were, she knew they wouldn't come easily. But for now, she was willing to wait—and to keep searching.