I hung up the phone, the last echoes of my dad's voice still lingering in my ear. Turning around, I found Peter, leaning against the kitchen archway. "I'm ready," I said, my voice steady with a newfound excitement. "Let's explore Forks, see what this town has to offer."

Peter's response was a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made my heart skip a beat. He pulled me close, his arms encircling my waist in a firm embrace. "Then let's not waste another minute," he whispered against my ear before planting a quick, playful peck on my lips.

The moment was fleeting, a spark of humor igniting as he gave my behind a light slap. I couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within. It was just so Peter, the way he could tease me and make it feel like an intimate joke shared between us.

He grabbed his keys and strode over to the door. Opening it, he stood aside, a picture of chivalry, waiting for me to pass through before he locked up behind us. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining as we walked together to the car.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I watched him take his place behind the wheel, the very image of confidence. As we drove through the streets of Forks, I leaned back, the comfort of the car seat flapping my arms around in excitement as i went deep into the town's history, before settling down. "You know, I can't wait for Roscoe to get here," I mused aloud, a grin spreading across my face at the thought of my beloved jeep.

Peter let out a fond scoff, shaking his head slightly. "Only you could have such a love affair with a car," he teased, but the warmth in his voice told me he loved that about me. He understood that Roscoe wasn't just a vehicle for me; it was a treasure filled of memories, a relic and last cherished belonging that came from my mother and my most trusted companion through the many countless adventures in Beacon Hills that I experienced alongside peter and the pack.

As we continued our drive, I watched from my side of the car as the world outside the window blurred of green and grey, I felt a sense of contentment settle over me. i felt like i could do anything with Peter by my side and i was excited to make new memories here, I knew that no matter where life took us, we'd face it together, as alphas, mates, and partners in every sense of the word.

Peter eased the car into a spot right by the curb, the engine's gentle purr coming to a halt. I watched him as he stepped out, his movements graceful and deliberate. He rounded the car with purpose, and I couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself-so sure, so steady...seeing peter's self-confidence had always been a turn on for me.

The door swung open, and there he was, extending his hand to me. "Come on, let's see what this place has to offer," he said, his voice a low hum that settled the anxiety that had built up within me during the drive into town.

I took his hand and shivered as the cool air of Forks brushed against my skin as I stepped out of the car. My eyes fell upon the cafe before us-small, yes, but it gave a homey kind of charm that spoke of warmth and felt like the kind of place people come to gather whether it was just for breakfast, work break, family gathering or even meeting...it was a perfect small cafe for people just like peter and I to blend in without any suspicion while drinking a nice and steaming cup of coffee. It was quaint, the kind of place that seemed to held history within its walls, and I felt a surge of excitement yet contentment.

I couldn't help it; I was literally bouncing on my toes, the anticipation of discovering a new favorite spot making my heart race. Peter chuckled at my enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up with affection. "You're like a kid in a candy store," he teased, but he squeezed my hand, letting me know he shared in my excitement before he wrapped me in his sweater.

We walked towards the cafe, our steps in sync, and I could feel the buzz of the town around us. Forks might be small, but it was alive, and I was ready to explore every nook and cranny with Peter by my side.

The bell above the cafe door jingled as we stepped inside, we were both suddenly filled with the sound of mingling with the soft murmur of conversations and the rich aroma of coffee. The interior was cozy and filled with the sound of laughter and the clink of porcelain. I could feel the eyes of the patrons briefly on us, the newcomers, before they returned to their own worlds.

I glanced at Peter, giving him a subtle nod. With a discreet gesture, I let my spark flare to life, weaving a veil of privacy around us as we sat in one of the tables by the corner. It was a simple trick, one that made our words for our ears only. The hum of the cafe faded into the background, our table becoming a literal beacon of silence and privacy from eavesdroppers.

Cora, the owner of the cafe, approached with a tray. Her smile was as warm as the coffee she set before us, and her presence was like a gentle wave of comfort. "Enjoy," she said, her voice a soft lilt that somehow cut through the muted sounds around us...her aura was comforting and gave me a sense of what a mother aura and energy would have been and/or would have felt like for me if my mother claudia was still alive.

Once she left, I leaned in, my voice low. "Peter, I don't know if you feel it too but something about this town has been causing me to react to it," I began, my words careful, measured. "It's not just the mist or the trees or even the townspeople... there's an aura here, something supernatural. I can feel it, and I know my Fox can too."

Peter's eyes met mine, a flicker of intrigue yet comprehension in their depths. "I thought I was the only one," he admitted, his voice a whisper. "There's a pull here, i felt it the moment we drove into town, something that seems to be calling us, beckoning us towards it."

 "Not just my fox," I said with a small smile, "my spark and my magic." It was a distinction that mattered, for each element was a facet of my being, a part of the whole that made me who I was.

Peter's gaze was understanding, "Your spark has always been a guiding light and a force not to be reckon with and given everything we have gone through back in beacon hills your spark has never led us astray," he said softly, his hand reaching across the table to cover mine. "And your magic, it's a force all its own. But it's your fox that intrigues me the most, the cunning and the wit that's uniquely you."

I felt a warmth at his words, a sense of pride in the parts of me that were so intrinsically tied to the supernatural. "This town," I continued our earlier conversation picking up once more, "it's like it's calling to all the part of me, the magic and the fox. There's something here, something that's waiting to be discovered or found."

We sat there, our hands linked, the world around us fading into a comfortable blur. The cafe, with its inviting aroma and gentle buzz, was the perfect backdrop for our musings. Forks is proving to both of us to be more than just a town; it was a mystery, a puzzle that beckoned to my spark, to the magic that flowed through my veins, and to the fox that danced in the shadows of my soul.