"Marvel's Princess Becomes the King"

Whether Bella could go into the reservation wasn't even a question in young Jacob's mind. His father was the tribe's chief—if he wanted to take his goddess to look around the reservation, who was going to stop him?

No one dared. Anyone who did? He'd tear them apart!

Still, before leaving, he glanced at his dad for confirmation.

Compared to his slightly dim-witted son, Billy Black—seated in his wheelchair—was far more perceptive.

As chief of the Native American tribe, Billy had maintained a strong relationship with Charlie, the local town sheriff, for the safety of his people.

Due to his physical disability, Billy had not inherited the tribe's supernatural powers, but as the direct son of the previous chief, his wisdom far surpassed that of the average tribesman.

He could sense subtle oddities about Bella. Letting her visit the tribe... didn't feel right.

But he had no proper reason to refuse her. Not legally, not personally.

Facing Jacob's questioning look, Billy simply smiled and nodded his approval.

"Hop in!"

Jacob pulled up in a faded red Chevy pickup truck. It barely counted as red anymore. This was the car he and his father had planned to give Bella—half-sold, half-gift.

If he gave it to her now, that meant Bella would be driving and he'd be the passenger. If he held off, he would drive and she'd ride shotgun. Jacob, eager to show his strengths, chose the latter.

Bella sat in the passenger seat while Jacob, grinning ear to ear, reversed the truck. After saying goodbye to the two older men, the pickup headed north, toward the reservation nestled in the woods.

Bella made small talk as they drove.

She didn't exactly hate the truck—but she definitely didn't love it. The open truck bed made her uncomfortable. Who gives a girl a pickup truck? She could swear it still smelled faintly of potatoes!

She had no interest in either the hot vampire heartthrob or the loyal dog Jacob. She didn't care about the vampire's tragic past or whether Jacob would evolve into a werewolf. Forks was just her starting point, not the destination.

There was no point comparing the two—totally different leagues.

But she had to admit, the vampire—who had lived over a hundred years—knew how to treat a girl.

Jacob could only offer her a rusty old truck with peeling paint and oversized fenders. It might've been sturdy (in a crash, the other guy would definitely die), but it was ugly. Even someone like Bella, with zero car knowledge, could tell the truck was probably older than Charlie. And this was after it was given at a discount!

The vampire, on the other hand? He gave her a Mercedes as an engagement gift—and a Ferrari after marriage.

On that front, Jacob was utterly defeated.

But Bella also understood: Native Americans had been "protected" into poverty. It wasn't that Jacob didn't want to give her a better car—it's that he couldn't afford to.

So she changed the subject deliberately, chatting about survival skills—from finding water to identifying poisonous mushrooms—turning her knowledge from previous internet browsing into actual conversation.

Jacob answered every question enthusiastically. While he felt it was a bit awkward to talk about wilderness survival with his goddess in this romantic setting, he didn't ruin the mood.

Marvel Survival Rule #2: Never offend a handsome guy who knows how to fix motorcycles.

If those in wheelchairs are often spiritual leaders, then the guys who tinker with motorcycles? They're real-world leaders—like Cyclops, Captain America, or Tony Stark! These men are leaders in their fields. Jacob, the chief's son, had surely inherited some powerful bloodline. Becoming friends couldn't hurt.

Bella spent the whole afternoon in the reservation. The people there were honest and warm. At first, they were a bit wary of her, but once they warmed up, they were welcoming.

Jacob went all out to impress her, giving her a tour of his workshop and showing off his prized possessions. He shared all his tips and tricks for customizing motorcycles. If time allowed, he probably would've performed a live demo.

Bella, in her past life, had only ridden a scooter. Her mechanical understanding was minimal, so she asked a lot of naïve questions. Jacob wasn't the least bit annoyed—he answered each question in great detail, sometimes going above and beyond.

When Bella finally said, "Jacob, you're a good guy," he thought he was making serious progress.

In the end, Bella didn't accept the motorcycle—or the truck. Instead, she paid Jacob for a bicycle.

She lived in town. Her school was nearby. There was no need for a car—especially not a beat-up truck. Save it for your grocery runs, she thought.

A bicycle was perfect—it even helped with fitness.

The school had given her a month off due to the traumatic Flight 180 incident, so she had time to relax.

Once Jacob learned she wanted to get fit, he ditched his motorcycle and started biking to see her every day.

As they grew more familiar, Jacob often brought Bella into the reservation to hang out.

Once or twice was fine, but as the visits increased, Chief Billy began to worry—for his son and for the tribe.

But with Bella being Charlie's daughter and Jacob's chosen companion, he had no way to refuse her entry.

Privately, the older chief sighed and worried. After much thought, he decided to have a private conversation with Bella.

With the warm smile typical of someone in a wheelchair, he said to her:"You seem to have come out of the shadows. That's wonderful. Hardship doesn't break us—it makes us stronger."

His opening line was another universal crowd-pleaser—something that would resonate with almost anyone.

The reservation was practically a primeval forest, and many of the tribe's men carried werewolf blood. They were all like little furnaces—bare-chested and immune to the cold.

Bella, on the other hand, was freezing. After the rain, the forest temperature dropped significantly.

Today she wore a light yellow parka, matched with her usual jeans and sneakers. She looked casual and sunny enough.

"Jacob is a good friend. He always brings warmth," she said.

Another safe answer. Complimenting someone's child? Always a win.

Chief Billy didn't really care about the Flight 180 incident. He knew about it, but never looked into the details. It's not like Native Americans died—why would I throw a bonfire in celebration? The fact that I didn't should already count as respect!

Still, he couldn't say that. Feigning curiosity, he asked Bella for details about the incident.

Bella had already told the story dozens of times. She recounted it again—neither exaggerating her role nor downplaying the danger.

"Come walk with me," the older chief said.

(End of Chapter)