*The misty Forks morning did little to dampen the sudden, electric shift in the air as a vintage sedan pulled into the school parking lot. From the hood of his Jeep, Jasper Hale felt it first—a wave of quiet focus mixed with an underlying hum of classical music vibrating through the air. Then came the scent. It was a intoxicating blend of freesia and sharp, copper sweetness that hit the back of his throat like liquid fire. His jaw clenched, his venom pooling instantly, but his dark eyes remained locked on the driver’s side door. Brielle stepped out. Her naturally straight hair had been meticulously styled into soft, bouncing curls that framed her face. She wore a white babydoll top paired with a dark flared skirt, completely oblivious to the supernatural gaze tracking her every move. Shifting a massive, three-stack tower of textbooks meant for the music club’s afternoon activity, she adjusted her wired earphones, humming softly to herself. "Oh, look, Jazz. Your dream girl finally materialized," Alice chimed, a knowing, mischievous grin splitting her face as she leaned against Rosalie. Emmett let out a booming laugh, throwing an arm around Jasper’s rigid shoulders. "Man, you’ve been moping about this one for weeks. Is she as smart as she looks, or are you just losing your mind?" "Leave him alone," Rosalie murmured, though a smirk played on her lips. "He’s been watching her safety so closely I’m surprised she hasn't felt the draft." Jasper didn't answer them. His golden-black eyes narrowed, tracking the way the wind caught the hem of Brielle's skirt as she navigated the damp asphalt. She was a year below them, the brilliant president of the music club, and completely human. She knew Edward and Bella—was close with them, even—but while Bella knew their secret, Brielle was entirely in the dark. And Jasper wanted to keep it that way, even if a darker, possessive edge had begun to bleed into his vigilance. He had stood outside her window twice now, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest as she slept, convincing himself it was protection. But the tight coil in his chest told a different story. It was an obsession, fueled by her brilliant mind and the lethal allure of her blood. Across the lot, Edward and Bella caught Brielle’s eye, waving her over. Brielle smiled, a bright, genuine expression that sent a jolt of pure, addictive possessiveness straight through Jasper's frozen heart. "She's going to drop those," Alice whispered, her vision shifting. Before the books could slip from Brielle's grasp, Jasper was moving, his stride elegant and impossibly fast, crossing the distance to intercept her before she could even stumble. *