A/N: Okay. Okay, so I realize that I said it was a big "IF" when I referred to dropping this or continuing. Here's the confirmation, boys: I'm discontinuing this. I just... cannot. Reasons are below, to those who care, but if you're too pissed off to do so, I understand. The rest of the text is what I managed to ekk out for Chapter 8 before I lost inspiration for this story and my writing style changed too much.

As for the why's: To be perfectly frank, I don't really like the Twilight series that much anymore. I read it when I was 12, which was a hell of a long time ago. I don't have it in me to write fanfic for it anymore. Plus, I tend really dislike first person POV fics and it's difficult to write this fic b/c of that. Additionally, my writings style has changed a LOT. Going to college will do that to you.

ADOPTION NOTICE! If any of you want to adopt or rewrite or continue this, I am happy to allow it. Please just PM and let me know, because I have a lot of notes and drafts for this that I never used and maybe you'd like to. Including a conversation between Bella and Leah that was going to happen much earlier and never did. All I ask is that you give credit to me and let me know when you post so I can follow you! I support all y'all writers out there!

With that, this is the little bit of Chapter 8 I had done. Thank you all so, SO much for following and favoriting thus far, and I can only say I'm so very sorry that I had to let you all down.

Isabella Swan was dead.

She died when a boy with the face of an angel and the mind of a century swept her off her feet and brought her close to heaven. Only close, of course. As soon as she grew comfortable in those steel arms, the boy with the angel's face dropped her, and gently smiled while he did.

Isabella Swan fell through the briar and barbs back down to earth, screaming as she did. It was reminiscent of the story of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun and was burned badly for it.

Most people mourned for Icarus, of course. He had been young and stupid.

But Isabella Swan had been more than that. She'd been stupid enough to think that her first boyfriend was practically her husband, thinking that the angel was her soul mate. She'd been young enough to have that naivety that made her think that she needed to be special, because she wasn't. So as she fell through the briar and barb, and the thorns tore those ridiculous ideas out of her, she cried and screamed, but in the end . . . well, in the end, Isabella Swan smiled.

And then she was gone.

And now there was Bella, Thelta of Quilete wolf pack.

I didn't ever want to be Isabella Swan, young and stupid almost-Icarus ever again. I didn't want to fall into another Adonis's trap, to be swept off my feet and enjoy it. I wanted to run on my own feet, I wanted to run with my brothers.

There was a part of me that was scared, to imagine how I'd react if I spoke to him. I was scared that I would want him, that Isabella Swan would come back. If she came back, what would happen to the Thelta? The girl who ran with wolves, who barked more than she laughed, who was their little sister? I couldn't stand the shame it would bring me, either . . . The fact that I'd loved him in the first place — if it could even be called love — made me embarrassed already, but if I reverted . . . ?

It will never happen, I thought firmly to myself, Your brothers love you too much, and know you too well. They'll stop you.

It will still be humiliating.

They'll understand. Just try your best, honey.

Huh. That last one almost sounded like Jake. I smirked to myself, thinking that my brothers were in my head even when I wasn't phased. Kinda ridiculous but a little comforting at the same time.

"Bella?"

I looked up; I'd heard her approach, but I'd ignored it.