(Thomas POV)
Terry Yindi didn't waste time.
He leaned forward slightly, hands still, voice even, like he was asking about weather patterns instead of monsters.
"Start with the obvious," he said. "Sam tells us you can fight with the strength of a Cold One, how is that possible?"
Sam leaned forward at this question, curious himself to the point of being skeptical of the claim when it had been made.
I let out a slow breath.
"My… Shifting ability, has levels. I guess that's the best way to put it."
Billy's gaze stayed steady. Sue's eyes didn't move off my face. Quil looked like he'd been waiting his whole life to hear an answer he could tear apart.
"As I understand it, when a Quileute wakes their shifting ability, they only have two forms. Their human form and their Wolf form." I tipped my head slightly, "Though I have some confusion there, as from what I was told by the Cullen's, the wolves they met in the past were normal wolf size. But Sam is easily twice the size of any dire wolf on record."
Realizing I still hadn't answered their question I got back on track. "One of those levels I was talking about allows me to pull the strength increase from a shift into my human form. This has allowed me to spar in my human form with the Cullens. While not as strong as their strongest fighter, I am still comparable."
Quil made a sharp sound in the back of his throat.
"Even as you speak of yourself, you still look for more information on our Wolf Warriors."
Sue ignored Quil and spoke up, "Is this an ability you can share with the tribe? Or teach as part of your training?"
Sam leaned forward as if he could hardly wait to hear the answer.
I shook my head once. "I don't know. And I'm not going to lie and pretend I do. Whatever lets me do it may be tangled up in how my bloodlines mixed. Which means it might not be available to the Wolf Warrior's at all."
Terry's eyes narrowed slightly. "Bloodlines."
I glanced once at Billy, because he wasn't just listening, he was the steadying force of the room.
"My grandmother was Quileute," I said. "Elaraim Black."
That name had gravity. The Black name was nearly sacred to the Quileute's and to have one attached to it that most of them hadn't known about was a surprise.
Billy didn't react outwardly, but his attention sharpened, like a file drawer had been opened in his mind. I could feel the questions stacking up behind his eyes, but I kept moving.
"And my grandfather," I continued, "was from Nepal. He carried a different kind of shapeshifter bloodline. The tiger line."
Quil's mouth tightened. "Outside blood."
"Outside," I agreed, refusing to take the bait. "His people bound his gift, sealed it, so he could live a normal life. He left his clan and went to sea because he wanted the wider world more than he wanted their rules."
Terry's voice stayed calm. "Bound by who."
"By his own community," I said. "Their methods, their tradition. I don't know the mechanics. I only know the result."
Billy's fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair. Not impatience. A metronome. A habit of years.
"My father had his gift bound too," I said. "He wanted normal. He wanted a quiet life that didn't revolve around what he could become."
Sue's gaze stayed on me, direct. "And this binding didn't pass to you as a baby?"
"No," I said simply. "Whatever was bound in them didn't hold the same way in me. Or it didn't hold completely. Maybe my Quileute blood opened options for me that the rest of that clan didn't have, or I just thought outside their customs and got my own answers."
Quil leaned in a fraction, eyes bright with the kind of anger that liked having an audience.
"So you're an accident."
I kept my hands on the table, open and visible. "I'm the result of bloodlines mixing. The way I see it, I got the best of both worlds. My body blended things that were never meant to meet."
Everyone at the table pondered that for a time.
It wasn't disbelief. It was the kind of silence you got when people were setting a new fact into the shape of everything else they already knew, testing whether it cracked their old stories or simply widened them.
Billy's fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair. Quiet. Deliberate. I had noticed this habit of his multiple times today.
Sue was the first to recover and push the conversation forward. Her having two very good reasons to learn all she could from me.
"Okay," she said evenly. "That explains you for the most part, now tell us about what else we are facing."
"And don't try and speak ill of our abilities. The pack has already reported taking down that dark vampire." Quil interjected.
I nodded, "Yes, Sam told me of that fight. However, that was a fight of three against one. And… not to put the pack down, but it wasn't a fight without injury on their side."
Sam frowned at that statement.
"Look, this new pack has taken down a solo vampire that was surprised to see them. Your stories so far as I know, speak of encountering these Cold Ones in singles or pairs. Nothing larger. Just last year there was a group of four traveling through the area, how do you think the pack would have fared if they encountered them?"
Sam nodded his head in acknowledgment of the danger and the rest of the Council looked worried at the prospect of such a large group.
Hoping I wasn't pushing to much information too fast, I continued. "These are just wandering vampires that slip into an area, feed and move on, but there is a much greater danger out there called the Volturi."
Sam held my gaze for a heartbeat, then looked away, not dismissing, just calculating. Pack leader math: How many? How soon? How bad?
"The Volturi," Sue repeated softly, as if tasting the word. "What are they."
"They're a coven," I said. "Not like the ones that pass through nor are they like the Cullen's. They're… a government. A court. The ones who decide what the rules are for vampires, and what happens when someone breaks them."
Quil let out a short, sharp breath. "Vampires have rules?"
"They have laws," I corrected. "And enforcement."
Terry's voice stayed even. "Who do they enforce those laws on."
"Other vampires," I said. "Mostly. Humans when it suits them. Anyone they decide is a threat to their secrecy. Or their control."
Billy's eyes stayed on mine. Calm, but heavier now. "And why are you telling us this."
"Because if they ever come here," I said carefully, "you won't be dealing with one hungry vampire making a bad choice. You'll be dealing with a decision that's already been made, and dozens coming to enforce it."
Sam's jaw tightened. "You said vampires only move around in small groups or singly."
I nodded. "That's what I've heard in the stories. Lone hunters. Pairs. Small-time predators."
"And the Volturi aren't that," Sue said.
"No," I agreed. "They don't drift. They don't hunt like that. They don't stumble into trouble. They bring it."
Terry tapped once on the tabletop, mirroring Billy's earlier rhythm. "Numbers."
"No accurate count," I said. "But I have personally seen more than twenty in one place. And nothing organized stops at twenty."
Sue's fingers pressed together once, hard enough her knuckles went pale, then relaxed again. Controlled.
Quil scoffed, but there was less satisfaction in it now. "And you expect us to believe you've seen them."
I didn't rise to it. "You can choose not to believe me. But the smart play is to plan like it might be true anyway."
Billy's gaze didn't leave my face. "Why would they come to Forks."
I heard it in his tone: not disbelief. Not denial. Cause and effect.
I answered the same way.
"Because Forks is already unusual," I said. "Because the Cullens living nearby makes this area noticeable. Because supernatural problems attract supernatural attention. And because the Volturi don't like unknowns."
Sam spoke quietly, grim. "Unknowns like wolves."
"Unknowns like anything they can't control," I said. "If they decide this region is a risk, or that someone broke a law, they won't send one vampire to ask questions. They'll send enough to make the answer final."
The room fell silent again, but it wasn't combative silence. It was a listening silence.
Sue broke it. "So what makes them worse than numbers."
I didn't hesitate. "Gifts."
Quil's eyes narrowed. "More vampire fairy tales."
"Not fairy tales," I said, voice steady. "Abilities. Some vampires can do things beyond strength and speed. The Volturi collect those vampires."
Terry's gaze stayed locked on mine. "Name what you know."
I took a breath. The next part was always the part that made people's shoulders stiffen.
"Two that you need to understand because they change how you survive," I said. "Jane. And her brother, Alec."
Sam went very still at the names, the way a fighter goes still when the threat stops being theoretical.
Sue didn't move, but the air around her sharpened.
Billy's eyes narrowed the slightest amount. "Explain."
"Jane can inflict pain without touching you," I said. "She looks at you, focuses, and your body collapses. Not because she injures you. Because your nervous system gets punished from the inside. You can't 'tough it out.' You can't bite down and keep moving. Your body refuses."
Quil's face twisted with anger at the thought that the pack cold be so helpless.
Sam's voice came low, questioning. "Line of sight?"
"As far as I know," I said. "She needs a target she can fix on. Cover matters. Breaking sight lines matters."
Terry didn't blink. "And the brother."
"Alec is worse," I said bluntly. "His ability is believed to be an area of effect power. He can take away your senses. Sight. Hearing. Smell. Everything. You could be standing next to your pack and not know it. You could be hurt and never hear help coming. You could be surrounded and still be alone."
Sue inhaled slowly through her nose and let it out. Her eyes stayed on me, direct. "If that's true… that changes everything."
"It changes how you plan," I corrected. "It doesn't change who you are. Wolves are still wolves. It just means bravery isn't enough. You need habit. You need spacing. You need options."
Quil snapped, "And how do you know any of this."
I kept my tone even. "From what I've seen. From what I've been told by people who've survived them. I'm not asking you to take it as gospel. I'm asking you to take it as risk. The kind you plan for because the cost of being wrong is bodies."
Billy's gaze stayed calm. "You said your sister is tied to the same vampire family as you. So your information comes through them."
"Some of it," I admitted. "But not all of it is 'Cullen whispers.' And either way, it doesn't matter where warning comes from if the warning keeps people alive."
Sue's voice turned quiet and sharp. "And the pack bond."
That was the real reason she'd leaned in, I could tell. Not curiosity. Fear with a name. This was an exceptionally smart woman.
Terry's head tilted slightly. "Explain."
I chose honesty over certainty.
"This part is theory," I said. "Not proof. But it's a reasonable fear."
Sam's jaw clenched, now realizing where I was going.
"You share through the bond," I continued. "Urgency. Emotion. Memories. If one wolf can feel what another wolf feels across that link… it isn't crazy to ask whether an ability that attacks senses or the mind might follow the same road."
The silence after that was heavier than the first mention of the Volturi.
Because that wasn't about fighting a monster.
That was about the thing that made them strongest possibly becoming the thing that got them killed.
Sue's voice came out low. Controlled. "You're saying one wolf could drop and take the rest with them."
"I'm saying it's possible," I replied. "And if it's possible, you don't want to learn it during a fight."
Quil's chair creaked as he shifted, anger hunting for a target it could actually bite. "And this 'theory' comes from where?"
I didn't dodge, but I didn't volunteer more than I had too either.
"I've seen a mind-reader touch the edge of the bond," I said. "Accidental. Brief. It ended as soon as it was recognized."
Quil's eyes went cold. "A Cullen."
"Yes," I said. "A Cullen."
Sue's jaw tightened once, then she steadied herself like a woman who'd already buried her husband and refused to let fear make her sloppy. "Then we plan for the worst and pray it never comes."
Billy nodded faintly at that, approval of the mindset, not the pain behind it.
Terry folded his hands, considering. "So the threat isn't just vampires. It's vampires with structure."
"Yes," I said. "And with tools that don't care how strong your claws are."
Sam exhaled slowly, like the air had been sitting on his lungs for a minute. "And if the Volturi come… what do they do."
"They ask questions," I said. "And if they don't like the answers, they don't argue. They erase."
Quil's mouth tightened. "And you're telling us this now as a sales pitch."
I looked at him, steady. "I'm telling you this now because you asked what else is out there."
Billy's voice cut in, quiet authority. "Enough." Not anger. Just a line drawn in cedar and bone.
Quil shut his mouth, but his eyes stayed hard.
Billy's gaze held mine. "If they have numbers, and gifts, and laws… then what stops them."
I didn't like my answer.
"Other vampires," I said. "Distance. Secrecy. Being too small to be worth the effort. And not giving them a reason to decide you're a problem."
Sam's expression tightened. "We don't get to choose what they decide."
"No," I agreed. "But we can choose whether we're ready if the decision ever comes."
Terry leaned forward a fraction, voice still calm, too calm. "And you're saying this isn't imminent."
"I'm saying I don't have a clock," I said. "I don't know if it's next year or never. I know it exists. I know what they can do. And I know pretending they don't is the kind of mistake people only get to make once."
Billy's eyes stayed on mine for a long moment.
Then he nodded, small, but decisive. Not agreement with everything, just acceptance that the world was larger than the stories they'd been allowed to keep.
"All right," he said. "We have your warning."
He paused, gaze cutting down the table…Sue, Terry, Quil, Sam…then back to me.
"Then we're done with the storm stories," Billy said evenly. "Not because they aren't real. Because we have what we need from them." His eyes held mine. "You came here for clarity. You gave it."
I let out a slow breath through my nose, careful not to let relief look like victory. This wasn't that kind of room.
Sue's voice came next, quiet but firm. "If we're planning for worst-case, we need discipline as much as strength."
Sam nodded once, minimal. Agreement without softness.
Terry's attention stayed on me. "You said you don't have a clock. But you do have instincts. If you ever feel that pressure change, if you hear something, see something…"
"I'll bring it to Sam," I said immediately. "Not to stir people up. Just to keep you informed."
That earned a small, approving nod from Terry, like he respected the answer more than he liked the topic.
Quil leaned back in his chair, expression still carved into stone. "And don't you come here acting like you're our savior."
"I won't," I said, meeting his eyes without sharpening mine. "I'm a tool you can use. Or not. That choice stays yours."
His mouth tightened, but he didn't have an easy angle to cut into that.
Billy's fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair, the same metronome as before. "Sam will set the first session. Council terms will be simple. Observed. Limited. No interfering."
"I understand," I said.
Sue's gaze held mine. "And when your training Leah…"
"I train wolves," I said, keeping my voice even. "Not favorites."
Something in her shoulders loosened that she probably hadn't meant to show.
Sam finally spoke again, voice low and practical. "You show up alone. You do what I tell you. You don't let Paul, or anyone else, turn it into a circus."
"I won't," I said. "If someone tries, I toss them your way, and you handle it."
Sam's eyes stayed on me a beat longer, then he nodded once. Not trust. Not yet. But a working line drawn in the dirt.
Billy's gaze moved to each of them again, quietly taking attendance on consensus, then returned to me.
"You gave us answers," he said. "You didn't sidestep. You didn't hide behind the Cullen name. That matters."
I inclined my head. "I came straight. Like I said I would."
Billy's expression didn't soften, but the room eased, like it could breathe again. "Then take that same approach when you're in the field with the young ones. The first time you embarrass someone, pride will try to make a weapon out of it."
"I know," I said. "I'll keep it about work."
Terry's voice came mild, almost approving. "Good. Work is cleaner than ego."
Quil made a quiet sound, still unhappy, but he didn't argue. Not now. Not with the terms already set.
Billy lifted his hand, small motion, absolute. "Then this meeting is finished."
I pushed my chair back carefully, stood, and set it in place. No scraping. No theatrics. Just respect in the small motions.
"Thank you for hearing me," I said. "I only want to help the pack."
At the door, Billy's voice followed one last time, steady as the building itself.
"Thomas."
I turned.
His eyes held mine. "The world is bigger than our stories… thank you for bringing us more to add to them."
I nodded once. "Believe it or not, but Edythe Cullen was the one that pushed me to help. I was content in my fear you wouldn't let me, and didn't want to bring it up in case I alienated the pack. I am glad it all worked out." Then I closed the door.
Outside, the rain had eased into a fine mist that made the porch boards shine. I stepped down into the night, the hall's warmth closing behind me, and felt the weight in my chest settle into something steadier.
Not fear.
Not triumph.
Responsibility, shared, named, and finally pointed in the same direction.