(Thomas POV)
I woke before sunrise.
Not surprising—my body had always been an early riser, but today the restlessness hit harder than usual. Yesterday had been… big. Good, but big. My muscles felt electric beneath my skin, like they were demanding movement.
Training sounded perfect.
Edythe was already gone, hunting with Alice. A note sat on the nightstand in her looping script:
Go break something. I know you're itching for it.
—E
She knew me too well.
I grabbed my phone and put in a call to my training dum... partners and they were happy to oblige.
I pulled on workout pants, and a shirt, then headed for the Cullen clearing. I ran in my human form with the shifters strength that had become my normal except when I was at school these days.
The forest was still soaked in early-morning grey when I arrived, steam rising off me as my body temperature was so high. Emmett was already there, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer waiting for the bell. Jasper stood to the side, calm, collected, emotionless in the way only he could be before a fight.
"Took you long enough," Emmett boomed. "I've been ready for round one since, like, yesterday."
"Morning to you too," I said, stretching my shoulders.
Jasper nodded once in greeting. "You wanted a spar?"
"Yeah. Something to clear the mind."
"Then you picked the right two," Emmett laughed.
He launched first...of course he did.
A blur of inhuman momentum, fist cutting toward my ribs. I slid left, caught his wrist, pivoted, and used his forward force to flip him cleanly over my shoulder. He slammed into the ground hard enough to rattle branches.
"YES!" Emmett shouted from the dirt. "I missed this!"
Jasper came next, quieter, faster, and infinitely more dangerous.
He wasn't brute force like Emmett. He was precision. Strategy. Every strike probing, testing, adjusting his approach to me with unsettling speed.
But he wasn't the only one who'd learned.
I blocked, dodged, let my body fall into the strange rhythm that felt half-primal, half-instinct. My heels dug into the earth as I countered with a strike that forced him to leap backward.
His eyes lit with something like satisfaction.
"You're getting faster," he noted.
"Or you're getting predictable."
Jasper snorted. "Hardly."
The two came at me at once.
It was chaos. Beautiful chaos. Strength slamming into technique. Jasper trying to slip past my guard while Emmett tried to bulldoze me outright. I stayed in human form deliberately, refusing the further tug of tiger instincts that begged to join the fray.
Emmett grabbed me around the waist from behind.
Jasper swept my legs.
I twisted, planted a palm, and shoved upward, sending Jasper skidding across pine needles. Emmett tightened his grip—
So I dropped my weight, broke free, spun—
And drove an elbow into his sternum.
He flew backward ten feet, laughing even as he crashed into a tree that soon fell over.
"God, I love this kid."
Jasper circled again, eyes calculating. "You're holding back."
"Obviously."
"And why," he drawled, "would you do something foolish like that?"
"Because we agreed on a spar," I said, rolling my shoulders, "not a mauling."
Emmett stood up sharply. "Wait. WAIT. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Jasper's smile was slow and dangerous. "Show us."
The request hit me like a thrown dagger.
They wanted to see it.
Not the tiger.
Not the man.
The thing in between.
I exhaled once and pulled more of the tiger out. My skin rippled as the white fur emerged. A grunt left my mouth as my teeth sharpened and grew to meet the new shape if my mouth as my skull changed to a more tiger-like appearance.
My spine lengthened, adding at least 4 inches to my height.
Muscles bulged and then tightened.
Claws, not fully formed, but close. Slid halfway from my fingertips as my hands took on a look of mix between paw and hand.
My shirt tore down the back, now just hanging on loosely.
Emmett stopped grinning for half a second as the weight of the form settled over the clearing. My silhouette was still undeniably human, but everything about me was wrong in the way predators are wrong to prey.
The final shift slid through my legs—calves tightening, stance widening instinctively, center of gravity dropping into something fast, powerful, and built for explosive movement. A complete balance between man and monster.
I clenched my hands and then shook them out as I stretched out in my new shift. Bending at the knees and rolling my shoulders, I tore the remains of my shirt off and tossed it aside, letting Jasper and Emmet have a good look at my new form.
When I lifted my head, both vampires went utterly still.
Emmett whispered, "Oh hell yes."
Jasper's expression sharpened, all amusement gone. "Thomas. Your aura just spiked."
I grinned, and I knew it showed a little too much tooth.
"Ready?" I asked.
They didn't answer.
They attacked.
It lasted six seconds.
Jasper blurred toward my right. I caught him mid-strike, spun him, and threw him into Emmett with a force that would have shattered boulders. They crashed together, rolled, regained footing, and came again.
Too slow.
Too predictable.
Too… easy.
I moved with something deeper than instinct, something older, and swept Jasper's legs out while backhanding Emmett into a tree that groaned violently under the impact.
Both vampires lay sprawled in the wreckage, limbs bent at odd angles.
Emmett wheezed, "Dude… marry me."
"You're married," Jasper muttered.
"Details."
Jasper sat up, hair full of dirt, eyes bright with a rare exhilaration. "That form… is not meant for friendly sparring."
"No," I admitted, letting the hybrid edge drain away. Bones shifted. Claws receded. Breath steadied. "But you asked."
Emmett slapped the ground. "Again."
"No," Jasper said immediately. "Not until we figure out what that was."
I shrugged. "A middle state. Between man and tiger."
"No," Jasper said again, eyes narrowing. "That was something else."
Emmett grinned like a kid at Christmas. "It was AWESOME, that's what it was."
I breathed out slowly, feeling the lingering electricity under my skin.
Yeah.
This was exactly what I needed.
(Thomas POV — After School)
By the end of the school day, I was pretty sure half of Forks High believed Edythe and I had eloped in Vegas.
The first hint was the whispering in the hall. Not the subtle kind — Forks students had the volume control of malfunctioning appliances.
I heard:
"Is that an engagement ring?"
"No way — Cullen-level hot AND engaged?"
"Does that mean they're having a baby?"
"Dude, think about how impossible that is."
"Twilight Zone. Anything is possible."
By lunchtime it had escalated into:
"Maybe it's a promise ring."
"Maybe it's a threat ring."
"Maybe she bought it for herself."
"Maybe he proposed on a cliff and they almost died."
"Maybe he's secretly royalty."
Bella nearly spit her drink when she heard that one.
Edythe handled the rumors with perfect composure — chin up, serene expression, completely unbothered. Which, naturally, only made them worse.
Meanwhile, I spent most of the day fielding sideways looks from classmates who clearly expected me to confirm or deny something. Or perhaps spontaneously combust.
During English, Angela leaned across the aisle and whispered, "Congratulations."
I blinked. "On what?"
She gave me a look. "Thomas… the ring? On Edythe Cullen's hand? The ring she keeps glancing at every thirty seconds?"
"Oh," I said. "That."
Her smile softened. "It's sweet. I'm happy for you two."
She sat back in her seat before I could answer, leaving me with a warmth in my chest and a strange, surreal awareness that everyone knew. Or thought they knew.
Then, during last period, reality hit me in the face with all the grace of an angry rhino.
We were reading silently when I absently rubbed my thumb over the base of my own left ring finger — where a ring should go.
And the thought landed:
I can't wear one.
Not unless I was prepared to destroy it every time I shifted. Metal couldn't survive that kind of structural overhaul.
I pictured it: gold snapping, silver warping, gemstone skittering across the ground while I came out of a shift looking like an idiot sifting through pine needles for jewelry.
No thanks.
I leaned back in my chair, letting the reality settle. Edythe had a ring. I didn't. I couldn't.
Would that bother her?
Probably not. She wasn't sentimental about objects; she was sentimental about meaning. But still… it felt lopsided.
By the time the final bell rang, my hand kept drifting to that empty space, like habit was trying to form around something that would never be there.
Outside, Edythe was waiting near the truck — no surprise, no fanfare, just her, leaning lightly against the passenger door.
She smiled when she saw me — soft, warm, something private even in a crowded parking lot.
"Rumors have spread," she said, voice quiet and amused.
"I noticed."
"Anything outrageous?"
"Someone said we eloped on a cliff."
She tilted her head. "That one isn't entirely inaccurate."
I huffed a laugh… and then, unbidden, my eyes dropped to the ring.
Her smile faded slightly. "What is it?"
I hesitated. "I… don't think I can wear a ring. With shifting. It'll break."
Understanding flickered instantly across her expression.
"Oh. Thomas." She took my hand gently, lacing our fingers. "The ring isn't what matters. You are."
"I know." I squeezed her hand. "Still feels strange. Like I'm missing something."
"You're not." Her thumb brushed the back of my knuckles. "You gave me a symbol that would survive my eternity. I don't need one on your hand to confirm your promise."
I shrugged awkwardly. "Guess I'll just have to show it in other ways."
Her smile returned, slow and luminous. "I look forward to those."
A beat passed as students filtered around us, giving us the not-so-subtle "stare-and-walk" treatment.
Then Edythe leaned closer, voice barely above a whisper.
"Besides," she murmured, "I like that mine makes it obvious."
I blinked. "Obvious?"
"That I'm taken," she said simply.
My heart did something embarrassing in response.
We climbed into the truck, the rumors swirling behind us like dust in the road as I started the engine.
Tomorrow would bring more whispers. More questions. More complications.
But for now?
I had Edythe beside me, her ring catching the light, and the faint imprint of her fingers still warm against my own.
And even without a ring…
I didn't feel like I was missing anything at all.