DAPHNE
Shapeshifters. Tribal protectors with an ancient magical lineage. Men who could transform into enormous wolves at will, specifically evolved to hunt vampires.
And now, apparently, magically bound to herself and Pansy through some form of indigenous soul-recognition magic called "imprinting."
Daphne's analytical mind was already creating mental files for each new piece of information, categorizing and cross-referencing with her extensive knowledge of magical theory while maintaining her outwardly composed demeanor.
Inside the cottage, seated around their small dining table with mugs of tea that nobody was actually drinking, the four of them had reached a fragile truce built on mutual revelation and the shared experience of combat.
"Let me ensure I understand correctly," Daphne said, breaking a tense silence. "Your tribe—the Quileute—carries a genetic predisposition for this shapeshifting ability, which activates in response to the presence of vampires in your territory. You transform into wolves of unusual size and strength, specifically adapted to combat vampire physiology. And you've been doing this for... how long, precisely?"
"Thousands of years, according to our legends," Jacob answered, leaning forward with his forearms on the table. "The first transformation happened when the 'cold ones' first came to our lands. Our ancestor, Taha Aki, became the first Spirit Warrior to take wolf form to protect the tribe."
"Spirit Warriors," Daphne repeated, filing away the term for future research. "And this ability is passed through bloodlines?"
"Certain families," Paul confirmed, his posture tense but his hostility notably diminished since the battle on the beach. "Not everyone carries the gene. And even those who do won't necessarily transform unless triggered by vampire presence."
"Which explains the recent increase in your numbers," Daphne deduced. "The vampire activity in the area has activated more carriers of the genetic trait."
Jacob nodded, looking impressed by her quick understanding. "Exactly. We've gone from three wolves to ten in the past two years. More vampires, more protectors."
"And the transformation itself—it's entirely voluntary?" Daphne continued, fascinated despite the gravity of their overall situation. "No lunar cycle dependency?"
"Mostly voluntary," Paul corrected, exchanging a glance with Jacob. "Strong emotions can trigger it, especially anger. New wolves have less control."
"And clothing doesn't transform with you," Pansy observed with a hint of amusement. "Hence the rather minimal attire."
Jacob grinned, some of his earlier ease returning. "Practical necessity. We got tired of shredding our wardrobes."
"Your tribal elders—they manage this... pack?" Daphne asked, selecting her terminology carefully.
"The Council knows our secret," Jacob confirmed. "But the pack has its own internal structure. Sam Uley is our Alpha—our leader. He makes the final decisions, coordinates patrols, maintains order."
"A hierarchical social structure," Daphne noted. "Fascinating. And this 'imprinting' phenomenon—is it universal among your kind?"
Paul shifted uncomfortably, his dark eyes briefly meeting hers before looking away. "No. It's rare. Or it was. Five of us now."
"The biology of it is complicated," Jacob added. "Our tribal legends say it's about finding the person who can best carry on the wolf gene, but that doesn't really hold up with recent imprints."
"In what way?" Daphne pressed, her scholarly curiosity momentarily overriding personal implications.
"Well, for one thing, we've had wolves imprint on people with no connection to the tribe," Jacob explained. "Different races, outsiders with no possibility of sharing our genetic heritage. Like you two."
"So there's no clear evolutionary advantage," Daphne mused. "Suggesting a magical rather than purely biological mechanism."
"We don't really understand it ourselves," Jacob admitted. "We just know it happens, and once it does, it's permanent."
"Permanent," Pansy repeated, her tone carefully neutral. "Meaning?"
Jacob's expression became earnest, his focus entirely on Pansy. "It means I will always be whatever you need me to be. Friend, protector, companion... whatever role you want me to have in your life, that's what I'll be."
"That sounds suspiciously like magical compulsion," Pansy observed, though Daphne noted her friend's usual sharp edges had softened slightly. "Removing your free will."
"It's not like that," Paul interjected with unexpected intensity. "We still have choices. Personalities. It's just... priorities change. Your wellbeing becomes paramount."
"So you're saying," Daphne clarified, meeting Paul's gaze directly, "that since this 'imprinting' occurred, ensuring my safety and happiness has become your primary concern?"
"Yes," Paul answered simply, the single word carrying absolute conviction.
"And if I were to tell you your concern is unwelcome and unnecessary?" Daphne asked, testing the boundaries of this claimed bond.
Something like pain flickered across Paul's features, quickly masked by his habitual scowl. "Doesn't change the imprint. I'd still feel it. Still care. I'd just... keep my distance, if that's what you wanted."
The sincerity in his response was unexpected. Daphne had anticipated defensiveness or perhaps manipulation—the typical reactions when magical influences on personal autonomy were questioned. Instead, she found herself facing what appeared to be genuine acceptance of her agency in the matter.
Curious.
"Let's set aside the imprinting discussion for the moment," she suggested, steering the conversation back to more immediate concerns. "We have a more pressing issue—Nikolai Valerov. He's now aware of all our identities and abilities, which gives him a tactical advantage."
"He called you 'wolf guards,'" Pansy recalled, her Auror training reasserting itself. "Suggesting prior knowledge of your existence. Have you encountered him before today?"
Jacob and Paul exchanged a glance laden with unspoken communication.
"Not him specifically," Jacob finally answered. "But we've been tracking unusual vampire activity for weeks. Different from our usual... suspects."
"Suspects?" Daphne inquired. "You mean the Cullens?"
Both men stiffened in surprise.
"You know about the Cullens?" Paul demanded.
"Our intelligence briefing included information on known vampire covens in the region," Daphne explained. "The Olympic coven, led by Carlisle Cullen, maintains permanent residence northeast of Forks. Seven members, animal diet rather than human, established treaty with the Quileute tribe in 1936."
"Your intel is good," Jacob said with grudging respect. "Yeah, the Cullens stay on their side of the treaty line. This new bloodsucker—Valerov—he's different. Showed up about three weeks ago, moving in patterns that didn't make sense. Hunting, but not feeding much."
"He's been searching for something," Daphne theorized. "Likely a safe location to experiment with the stolen artifacts."
"What exactly are these artifacts?" Paul asked. "You mentioned the blue orb thing—the Resonance Sphere. What else did he take?"
"The Chronos Monocle and the Barrier Cuff," Pansy supplied. "The monocle allows limited temporal viewing—seeing brief glimpses of past or future events tied to specific locations. The cuff creates temporary extra-dimensional spaces—pocket realms that exist outside normal space-time."
"Together with the Resonance Sphere, they form a set created by a 17th-century artificer named Arcturus Flemmel," Daphne continued. "Individually powerful, but when used in combination, they can theoretically alter the fundamental structure of reality within a limited area."
"That sounds... bad," Jacob said with characteristic understatement.
"Catastrophic would be more accurate," Daphne corrected. "Particularly in the hands of a vampire wizard with apparent disregard for magical stability."
"What's he trying to do with them?" Paul asked, leaning forward with intense focus that reminded Daphne of his wolf form's predatory attention.
"Our intelligence suggests he's attempting to create a permanent pocket dimension where vampire limitations could be overcome," she explained. "A realm where sunlight wouldn't burn, where magical barriers against vampires would fail, where the physical constraints of their condition could potentially be altered or removed."
"A vampire paradise," Pansy added grimly. "Where they could exist without restrictions or the need for secrecy."
"At the cost of what?" Jacob asked, clearly understanding there would be a significant price for such magic.
"Magical balance requires equivalent exchange," Daphne stated, falling into her natural teaching cadence. "Creating such a space would require siphoning energy from the surrounding environment on a massive scale. The resulting magical vacuum could destabilize all natural and magical systems within hundreds of miles."
"Killing everything," Paul translated bluntly.
"Eventually, yes," Daphne confirmed. "The process would begin with subtle effects—weather pattern disruption, plant and animal die-off, magical fluctuations. But it would accelerate exponentially once the dimensional tear reached critical mass."
"And he chose here because...?" Jacob prompted.
"We believe he selected this location for its unique magical properties," Daphne said, gesturing toward her map of the area, still spread on the table with its glowing points of magical activity. "The Olympic Peninsula sits at the intersection of several powerful ley lines—natural channels of magical energy. Moreover, the reservation itself appears to contain an unusually potent magical nexus, likely connected to your tribe's shapeshifting abilities."
Paul's eyes narrowed. "You're saying he wants to use our tribal magic as fuel for his vampire dimension."
"Precisely," Daphne confirmed. "Indigenous magic is often tied deeply to land and lineage in ways European wizardry is not. It creates stable, self-sustaining magical ecosystems that would be ideal power sources for Nikolai's purposes."
"That's why we're here," Pansy added. "The International Confederation of Wizards detected the artifacts' magical signature in this region two weeks ago. We were dispatched to recover the items and apprehend Valerov before he could implement his plan."
"You could have just told us this from the beginning," Jacob pointed out. "We have a common enemy. We could have been working together."
"International wizarding law strictly prohibits revealing magical existence to muggles—non-magical humans," Daphne explained. "We had no way of knowing you were already aware of the magical world, much less active participants in it."
"Also," Pansy added with characteristic bluntness, "trust works both ways. You weren't exactly forthcoming about being giant wolves with vampire-hunting hobbies."
Paul actually smiled at that—a brief, reluctant quirk of his lips that transformed his usual scowl into something unexpectedly appealing. "Fair point."
"The situation has changed now," Daphne observed practically. "With our respective secrets revealed, cooperation becomes the logical strategy. Your pack's physical abilities combined with our magical expertise would significantly improve our chances of stopping Nikolai."
"We need to talk to Sam," Jacob said, exchanging a glance with Paul. "The pack needs to know what we're dealing with. And the Council too—they should be warned if our tribal magic is the target."
"Agreed," Daphne said, already formulating a strategic approach. "We should also contact our Ministry liaison to update them on the situation and request additional support if necessary."
"We can meet at the reservation border in three hours," Paul suggested. "Bring Sam up to speed, then come back here to plan."
Daphne nodded her agreement. "That seems reasonable. We'll use the time to strengthen our wards and prepare appropriate combat measures based on what we observed of Nikolai's fighting style."
The conversation shifted to practical logistics after that—exchange of contact information, establishment of emergency protocols, agreement on a meeting point. Throughout the discussion, Daphne found her attention repeatedly drawn to Paul Lahote, studying him with new understanding of his earlier behavior.
The intensity she'd first noted in him now made perfect sense—it wasn't just his natural personality or vigilance as a protector, but the focused attention of someone who had experienced a profound magical connection. This "imprinting" phenomenon explained his constant awareness of her, the protective positioning, the way his eyes tracked her movements even now as they discussed tactical plans.
From a purely academic perspective, it was fascinating. Indigenous magical bonds operating on principles entirely outside standard European magical theory. If they survived this mission, the research paper she could write would revolutionize comparative magical anthropology.
From a personal perspective... that was more complicated.
Daphne Greengrass had spent her life maintaining careful control—of her emotions, her magic, her relationships. The Greengrass family had survived the wizarding wars through strategic neutrality, a position that required constant vigilance and emotional discipline. Daphne herself had cultivated the "ice princess" persona deliberately, finding safety in distance and order in reserve.
The idea that some tribal magic had created an involuntary bond between her and this volatile shapeshifter was unsettling on multiple levels.
And yet.
There was something compelling about Paul Lahote's raw honesty, something refreshing about his directness that cut through the layers of political calculation she was accustomed to navigating. When he looked at her, she had the distinct impression he was seeing past her carefully constructed barriers to something essential beneath.
It should have been uncomfortable. Instead, she found it oddly... liberating.
"We should go," Jacob said finally, standing from the table with obvious reluctance, his eyes lingering on Pansy. "Sam will be wondering where we are, and we need to report the vampire encounter."
"Of course," Daphne agreed, rising as well. "We'll strengthen our defensive measures and prepare for the meeting this evening."
Paul stood more slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers with that same unsettling intensity. "You'll be safe here? With your ward things?"
"Perfectly safe," Daphne assured him. "Our magical protections are specifically designed to repel vampire intrusion, and we've added additional security measures since arriving."
Paul nodded, but she could see the reluctance in his posture—the wolf's instinct to stay and protect warring with the logical understanding that they had responsibilities to their respective groups.
"We'll be fine, Mr. Lahote," she added, softening her tone slightly. "We are trained Aurors, after all."
"Paul," he corrected, the corner of his mouth lifting in that brief, surprising smile. "If we're fighting vampires together, seems stupid to keep using last names."
"Very well... Paul," Daphne acknowledged, finding the informality strange on her tongue. "We will see you both at the agreed meeting point at six o'clock."
The men departed shortly after, though not without Jacob extracting additional promises of caution from Pansy and confirming their meeting arrangements no less than three times. The imprint's protective instinct was clearly a powerful force—perhaps even stronger than standard wizarding bonds like the Unbreakable Vow or family magic.
When the door finally closed behind them, Daphne turned to find Pansy already casting additional security charms on the windows and doorway, her practical nature asserting itself despite the extraordinary revelations of the past few hours.
"Well," Pansy said without looking up from her spellwork, "this assignment has certainly taken an unexpected turn."
"Indeed," Daphne agreed, moving to her maps to update them with the new information about the reservation's magical significance. "Shape-shifting wolf protectors with magical imprinting capabilities were not mentioned in our mission briefing."
"An oversight that someone at the Ministry will be hearing about," Pansy remarked dryly. "Though I suppose 'By the way, you might become magically pair-bonded to local supernatural creatures' isn't standard procedure for field deployment memos."
Despite the gravity of their situation, Daphne felt her lips curve in a small smile. Pansy's irreverence had always been a welcome counterpoint to her own more serious nature—one of many reasons their partnership worked so well.
"What do you make of this imprinting business?" Pansy asked, her tone deliberately casual as she strengthened the protective barrier on the cottage's single chimney.
Daphne considered the question carefully. "It appears to be a form of soul-recognition magic, somewhat analogous to certain bonding spells in ancient wizarding traditions. The spontaneous nature and apparent permanence suggest deep magic—the kind that operates on fundamental magical principles rather than constructed spellwork."
"Yes, I gathered that from the technical perspective," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "I meant personally. What do you think about Paul being magically bonded to you?"
Daphne paused in her map annotations, unaccustomed to such direct personal inquiry, even from Pansy. "I... haven't fully processed the implications," she admitted. "It's unexpected. And complex."
"That's one way of putting it," Pansy snorted. "Another would be 'completely mad.' We've been here three days and somehow acquired supernatural wolf guardians with magical devotion complexes."
"The timing is suspicious," Daphne acknowledged, analytical mind already considering patterns and connections. "The odds of both of us experiencing this rare phenomenon simultaneously seem statistically improbable."
"You think it's connected to Nikolai? Or the artifacts?"
"Perhaps," Daphne mused. "The Resonance Sphere amplifes ambient magical energy. If it's been active in the area, it might have enhanced local magical phenomena, including tribal magic like the imprinting bond."
"Lovely," Pansy muttered. "So not only is the vampire trying to tear a hole in reality, he might have accidentally supercharged our wolf situation as well."
"It's merely a hypothesis," Daphne cautioned. "We need more data."
Pansy finished her security charms and dropped into one of the dining chairs with uncharacteristic heaviness. "What are we going to do about them? Jacob and Paul?"
It was the question Daphne had been deliberately avoiding, focusing instead on tactical considerations and academic analysis of the imprinting magic. The personal implications were... messier.
"In what sense?" she asked carefully.
Pansy gave her a look that clearly communicated she wasn't fooled by the evasion. "In the sense that they believe we're their magical soulmates, and we'll be returning to Britain once this mission is complete. Assuming we survive, of course."
Put that way, the situation did present certain obvious complications.
"We focus on the mission," Daphne decided pragmatically. "Neutralize Nikolai, recover the artifacts, ensure the stability of the local magical ecosystem. Once those objectives are accomplished, we can address the... personal considerations."
"Very methodical," Pansy observed with a knowing smirk. "And completely avoiding the actual question. Do you feel anything toward him? This Paul who's apparently magically devoted to you?"
Daphne found herself uncharacteristically hesitant to answer. Did she feel something? She'd noted his physical attributes objectively—he was undeniably attractive in a raw, untamed way quite different from the polished pureblood wizards of their social circle. And there had been moments during their interactions when she'd experienced unusual reactions—a warmth in her chest when he smiled, a peculiar awareness of his proximity, an unexpected comfort in his protective presence during the fight.
But were those feelings significant, or merely biochemical responses to a novel situation?
"I find him... intriguing," she finally admitted, selecting her words with precision. "His directness is refreshing, and his dedication to protecting his tribal lands is admirable. Beyond that, I haven't formed significant emotional attachments."
"Hmm," Pansy hummed skeptically. "Well, I find Jacob Black irritatingly charming, which is absolutely infuriating. I had plans, Daphne. Career advancement, strategic social connections, perhaps a sensible marriage in a few years to someone with appropriate family connections and compatible long-term goals."
"Those plans needn't change," Daphne pointed out reasonably. "The imprint bond doesn't appear to compel reciprocal attachment, merely devotion from the wolf to his imprint. We maintain our autonomy."
"That's rather cold comfort to them, isn't it?" Pansy mused, surprisingly empathetic for someone who generally prided herself on pragmatic self-interest. "Magically bound to women who walk away and never look back."
It was a point Daphne hadn't fully considered—the ethical implications for Jacob and Paul if she and Pansy simply completed their mission and departed. According to their explanation, the imprint was permanent, unchangeable. What would that mean for the men left behind?
"A problem for another day," she decided, refocusing on their immediate priorities. "For now, we should contact the Ministry with our updated intelligence and prepare for this evening's meeting."
Pansy nodded, though her expression suggested the conversation wasn't permanently shelved. "I'll send the communication. You update the tracking maps with what we've learned about Nikolai's location and activities."
They worked in coordinated efficiency after that, falling into the practiced rhythm of their professional partnership. Daphne adjusted her detection spells to specifically track the magical signature of the Resonance Sphere, while Pansy encoded their situation report in the specialized magical cipher used for sensitive Auror communications.
As she worked, Daphne found her thoughts returning to Paul despite her best efforts at compartmentalization. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes when he'd positioned himself between her and danger. The surprising gentleness in his voice when he'd explained the imprint. The flash of pain when she'd questioned whether his concern was welcome.
It was... distracting. Inconveniently so.
Daphne Greengrass had always prided herself on clarity of thought and purpose. Her analytical mind was her greatest asset, both as an Auror and in navigating the complex social politics of pureblood society. Emotional entanglements were inefficient at best, dangerous at worst.
And yet, there was something about Paul Lahote that defied her usual categories and calculations. Something that made her curious rather than cautious, intrigued rather than wary.
Perhaps it was simply the novelty of the situation—an unusual magical phenomenon she hadn't previously encountered. Or perhaps it was something more fundamental, something she wasn't quite ready to examine too closely.
Either way, she would maintain her professional focus. The mission came first. Everything else was secondary.
Including unexpected wolf shapeshifters with magnetic dark eyes and surprising smiles that made something flutter in her chest.
Absolutely secondary.