AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so. Too much creative whatever in my head, need to write something. Thought I'd try my hand at an Embry fic – c'mon, you know it has potential. I'd like to give a shout out to princesswingnut, who has stories that are possibly more addicting than cocaine. Or chocolate.

Anyways. Hope you like it!

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There were a lot of things I was good at. Howling, running, seeming scary and keeping secrets, to name a few. There were, however, a lot of things I was bad at – namely, rules. I didn't like them. It wasn't in my nature to like them. Never had, never will, I hope. But even though I don't like rules, I follow them, for the most part. I mean, hello, I'm a teenage boy. We break rules, it's what we do.

I suppose you're wondering why I'm blubbering on about rules, right? Well, let me start off by saying that there were rules other people had for me and rules that I had for myself. There were rules that I was allowed to break and rules that I was absolutely not allowed to break. For example, the whole… 'You have to keep the secret forever and ever' thing. That was a rule I was allowed to break. I could tell my mother. I just didn't. I didn't want to break that rule. A rule I wasn't allowed to break was crossing the treaty line. That was a big no-no.

I had tried it once, a couple of years ago. I had been the only one awake, and I had wanted to run, and I got to the line and I was this close to it and Sam woke up, damn him. He made me come home and sleep, tail between my legs. Literally.

Anyways. Not the point, I guess. One of the rules I had for myself is that I could not, should not, WOULD NOT imprint. I know what you're going to say – 'Everyone else is doing it!' Well, I don't care what everyone else is doing. When everyone else was blowing off school for the beach, I was there, studying my head off because, shockingly, I didn't want to be a wolf warrior for the rest of my life. Apparently, that was a new concept in these parts, but at least Sam was happy. He liked us all to have a balance and what-not.

I didn't like the idea of imprinting. No, that's not strong enough. I hated the idea of imprinting. Hatedhatedhated it. More than almost anything ever. I do have a couple of damned good reasons, thank you, before you start thinking I'm mentally unsound (believe me, I think that too. I go around on four legs more often than I go around on two. Definitely something's wrong up here.) – first off: no control. Absolutely no control. You can just look at someone and bam! your life is over forever, attached to some girl (or guy, in Leah's case) you don't know from Eve. I didn't like the sound of it, and I knew I'd hate the feeling of it. I didn't want that. Nobody could make me want that. And, for a while, I wasn't alone in that feeling. Sam was the only one of us who had imprinted, and while he seemed fine and dandy, Leah wasn't. All day every day, we got the bad end of it. And let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. At all.

And that brings me to my second reason: the guys. Slowly but surely, they were getting picked off, one by one. Jared. Quil. Even, gag, Jake, to the genetic freak child. But, I don't have anything against the half-way bloodsucker, I guess. Other than the fact that she stole my best friend.

God. How girly does that sound? Well, whatever, she did and you know it. Ever since she was born, ever since Jake laid eyes on her, that was it. Bam. If it were another situation, he would've been paying rent at the Cullen's he spent so much time there.

It used to be me, Quil, and Jacob. We were us. I don't know how else to say it. We were us. We'd been best friend since age three. I mean, it's not like we had best friend charms or something or we painted eachother's nails or whatever, we were just us.

That kinda went away when I phased. If you remember, I was first, next to Sam. I think Sam was what set me off, I don't really remember. Mom had been giving me some lecture, I think, and she had said something along the lines of, 'Why can't you be more like the Uley boy – so responsible', and that just did me in. I was suddenly on fire, my body was exploding and I swear to god my heart was beating so fast it flatlined for a minute there. I probably scared Mom half to death because I froze and then I ran. It's a good thing, too, because the second I was out the door I had four legs and gunmetal gray fur was coming out of me. I had no idea what was going on. I was scared and…well, scared a few thousand more times. I ran to the woods. I don't know how long I stayed there, curled up like some pathetic puppy (boy, the Blond Bimbette of the Cullen Coven would've had a field day with that), whimpering.

Sam, of course, knew exactly what was happening to me. It just took a long time for me to calm down enough to listen. Normally, I'm a pretty chill kinda guy. I guess I get it from my dad, but that's totally another story. But when the dude who's two years older than you starts trying to make you believe in magic, you have to say I had every right to go a little crazy.

But, eventually, I calmed down. I had to, right? I don't remember much about my days in the woods – time seemed to go so much slower but so much faster, days changing into nights so fast I couldn't keep up with it and then nights dragging on until I was sure I was dead. My head wouldn't stop aching, my body wouldn't stop being on fire. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I still don't know how the hell Sam did this alone. I probably would've killed myself without him.

Wow, way to get off topic, Em. What was I talking about? Right, the guys. See, there was a big, huge, wolf-sized problem with the secret thing – nobody could know unless they were wolves themselves. And that meant I couldn't tell Quil or Jake, not until they were sprouting fur themselves. Sam 'suggested' that I just stay away from them until they were ready, and it was so hard. I had always told them everything, eventually. Maybe not instantly, like Quil did, but eventually, they got it out of me. Always. And now, guess what, I had to keep half of who I was from them. Fun fun.

But you guys know that story, right? Vampire Girl (Bella) got involved, Jake got involved, and things sort of spiraled after that. You know all about Bella's hell and Jake's hell and the Cullen's hell. Too bad you don't know about my hell. Because damn, I think it could've blown the fire out of any of the other guys' hells.

Curious? Don't be. It sucked.

It's name was Felicity. And I loved her.