Waking up to the sound of gravel beneath tires, Sebastian blinked the sleep from his eyes as the truck rolled across a narrow metal bridge.
A flicker of movement made him glance out the window.
There it was, painted on a worn wooden sign like destiny scrawled in acrylic:
"The City Of Forks Welcomes You."
He squinted at it.
"Well," he muttered, "if that's not the most ominous welcome banner i've ever seen…"
But something was off.
Not outside, no creepy vampire girl with red eyes doing a backflip from the trees(yet). No glinting skin in the shadows. It was internal. Subtle. Like someone had threaded a wire through his soul and gently tugged.
Warmth curled in his chest. Faint, electric, not painful, but unmistakably real.
His brain tried to process it, running through possibilities like a mental search engine in safe mode.
"Hunger? Nah. That's a separate fire. Food craving doesn't tingle in the soul… unless I'm getting spiritual about chimichangas?"
Then it hit him.
Mate bond… no shot, right? That's Twilight stuff. Plot-device-grade romance magic. Surely I didn't step directly into fate's glittery trap."
A chill ran down his spine like a math test he didn't study for.
The truck driver glanced over, noticing the subtle horror on Sebastian's face. "Hey kid, did you have a nightmare or somethin'? You look like you saw your GPA."
Sebastian turned, eyes flat and unimpressed.
Please. The only thing that keeps me up at night is deciding which chimichanga joint deserves the honor of my presence."
He cracked a crooked smile, the kind that said "I've committed war crimes against burritos."
"God, I could go for a beautifully wrapped chimichanga right now…"
He wiped a strand of drool threatening to sabotage the leather.
The truck driver rolled his eyes like he'd just met chaos in teenager form. "Sure, kid. Real glutton. Sorry for worrying about you, ooh fearless one."
Sebastian leaned back in his seat, arms behind his head, still feeling that low, magnetic pull.
"Don't worry about it, old man. I'm just experiencing… character development."
Soon.
The truck rumbled into town like it belonged there, slow, steady, slightly rusty, with one chaotic teenager inside treating it like a limousine.
Sebastian leaned against the window, half-lidded eyes tracking the passing scenery. Rows of gray houses. Damp sidewalks. Trees. More trees. A disproportionate number of trees.
"It's like someone asked God for a town, and God said 'Sure, but only if you take 60% forest with it,'" he muttered.
The truck driver chuckled under his breath. "Welcome to Forks, Washington. Population: Rain, trees, and suspicious stares."
Just as they turned past a sleepy-looking diner, red and blue lights flickered behind them.
Whoop-whoop.
The truck pulled to a halt.
"Great," Sebastian groaned, "law enforcement. I didn't even do anything this time."
The sheriff's car pulled alongside, and out stepped a man who looked like the human embodiment of overcooked coffee and Monday mornings. Thick mustachem, eternal frown, yeah, it was Charlie Swan.
He sauntered up to the driver's window.
"Hey, Greg," Charlie nodded to the driver. "Truck looked a little low. Everything alright?"
Greg pointed a thumb at Sebastian. "Picked up a hitchhiker. Said he was too cool to die in the forest."
Charlie raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly to peer inside.
Sebastian gave him a little wave.
"I promise I'm only dangerous in the metaphorical sense."
Charlie blinked. "...Right. And you are?"
"Sebastian. Temporary stray. I come with sarcasm, low blood sugar, and possibly minor divine intervention."
Charlie stared for a beat longer than necessary. Then sighed. "Well, far be it from me to stop fate from being weird again."
Sebastian tilted his head. "Again?"
Charlie ignored the question like a pro and turned back to Greg.
"You dropping him somewhere?"
"Figured I'd let him off by the diner. Maybe he can charm someone into a burger."
"Fair enough," Charlie muttered, then hesitantly. "Hey, you might want to tell your… friend, the high school's gonna see a new face soon. My daughter's moving in with me next week."
Sebastian perked up just enough to hide the tiny jolt in his chest.
Bella. Timeline locked.
Charlie gave him a once-over. "Just… try not to be weird, alright?"
Sebastian put a hand on his chest. "Officer, I'm made of weird. But I promise to use my powers only for dramatic flair and minor inconveniences."
Charlie grunted. "Yeah. You'll fit right in."
He walked back to his cruiser without another word.
Greg looked at Sebastian, smirking. "That go better or worse than you expected?"
Sebastian shrugged, grin forming.
"No one's arrested, tased, or bitten. We're trending upward."
Greg pulled the truck up beside the Forks diner, the neon sign buzzing like a tired fly. The rain hadn't started yet, but the clouds overhead were threatening to monologue.
Sebastian stretched, cracked his neck, and was halfway out the door when Greg held out a folded bill.
"Here, enough for a burger. Maybe even fries if you flirt with the waitress."
Sebastian took the money with an exaggerated gasp.
"Greg… are we having a moment ?"
"Just get out, you dramatic gremlin."
Sebastian laughed and hopped out, calling back, "I'll name my first illegal action efter you!"
Greg didn't reply. He just pulled away with the slow, weary speed of a man deeply regretting kindness.
The diner was exactly what you'd expect from a small town that hadn't updated its aesthetic since the invention of the milkshakes, checkered floors, booths with duct-taped cushions, and a waitress named Linda who had probably seen everything.
Sebastian slid into a booth like he belonged there.
Linda approached with a notepad and zero patience.
"You look like trouble."
Sebastian gave her a wink. "And you look like salvation."
She rolled her eyes but smirked. "What'll it be, Romeo?"
"Bacon cheeseburger. Extra bacon. Fries. And a milkshake. Whatever flavor feels spiritually correct."
Linda scribbled. "Coming right up, smooth talker."
One burger later…
Sebastian sat back, hands on his stomach, eyes half-lidded in divine satisfaction.
"If I die tonight, it won't be from vampires. It'll be from cholesterol. Worth it."
But that nagging pull in his chest was still there, the mate bond. He could feel it humming like distant static, a thread tied to someone he hadn't met yet.
And now that he had the Bella Swan info from Charlie, he knew the clock was ticking.
"Alright, time for a little… academic identity theft."
He slipped out of the booth, dropped a polite "thank you" to Linda, and walked out of the diner like a man with a destiny and no regard for public records.
END OF CHAPTER 3