A Twilight fanfiction novel - SheeWolf85

“Obviously I’m more careful than you were. Damn, those guns are brutal.”
Embry snorted. “They would be brutal if they could actually do permanent damage to you. That little
scratch’ll be healed in an hour.”
“It’s still cool how you can push the bullet back out, though.” Seth shifted to look at the healing
wound in the side of his calf. He’d been trying to spy on Natalie with dwindling hopes that he would
imprint on her this time and got caught by a hunting duo. The initial sting of the shot wasn’t really
anything compared to the healing. He could literally feel his muscles reconnecting. It was morbidly
fascinating, but it hurt like a motherfucker.
Jacob took a drink of his beer. “I think Embry gets shot purposely just to do that.” They were at
Seth’s place just for a few drinks and to bullshit about pack life. Quil had opted out in favor of
spending time with Claire.
“No way, asshole. It might be cool, but I’m not a fucking masochist.”
“How many times have you been shot? Honestly?” Jacob asked.
Embry shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I dunno.”
“Fifty-two times. You’ve been shifting for ten years, and you’ve been shot fifty-two goddamned times.
I think you like it.”
“What about you, O Mighty Alpha?”
Seth just looked between the two, enjoying the banter.
Jacob huffed. “Forty, but I’ve been shifting for fourteen years and had to learn all the ways to avoid it
so I could teach you idiots. Seems Seth’s the only one who actually listens to me.”
“Him and your girlfriend.” Embry raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I heard about that.”
Jacob growled and leaned forward. “Leave her out of it.”
Embry shrugged again. “You got it, Boss. Just sayin’ that Seth’s not the only one.” He rested back
against the couch and opened a new beer. He could safely argue that one of the best things about
being a Shifter was the ability to consume as much alcohol as he wanted without getting drunk. It
was second only to the amounts of pussy he could score at any given time.
“Isn’t it about time for your patrol?” Jacob asked pointedly.
Embry pointed at Seth. “It’s his turn.”
“He’s injured. Get going.”
“Dude, he’s fine and I have—”
“Now.” The command in Jacob’s voice was undeniable.
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