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Chapter Text

The night is silent and as stiff as a corpse, she would know. The sound of ragged breathing in an isolated cabin being the only thing to break the eerie calm. Occasionally, a chuckle can be heard. It is slightly high-pitched, female, sinister, deranged, and delighted.

A snap, but not that of a branch, instead, that of a bone, and when listening very closely to that of sanity as well. Then a scream is heard followed by cooing and shushing, even though no one is around to hear.

The cabin is fifteen miles north from even the most isolated of hiking trails with regular civilization ten miles further south. Looking towards the west, north, and east all provide miles upon miles of the forest only inhabited by wildlife. Wildlife that knows to avoid this unmarked spot on the map, for the screams that it produces scares even the most deadly of predators away.

It truly was a lucky find, this cabin. She thought she would have to build her own. Moving to Forks while a strategically planned escape also turned out to be significantly inconvenient. Her estranged father, the fucking chief of police, to whom she has no interest nor plans of reaching out to does not carry the same frame of mind. Her emancipation and complete ability to provide for herself has simply left him in the same town as the daughter he could have had. Fighting off the man’s attempts at bonding has been an unwanted annoyance.

Additionally, living in a place this small has forced her to schedule out times to drive to distant neighboring cities for her targets. Luckily, arriving at the beginning of summer break allowed her the time to devise her plans to evade police suspicion for at least the year that she will have to stay in this godforsaken town.

Another snap, a scream, this time followed by a laugh and finally words that sound as if they were being spoken to a toddler that scraped their knee on the playground.

“Oh darling, I bet that hurt.” Her tone was sweet enough that had you not been aware of the atrocities the young woman inflicted upon the man before her you would think she genuinely cared.

Painful breathing, the wheezing reminiscent of a death rattle, was the only sound the man could produce, as the broken jaw prevented him from properly forming any words.

Isabella tutted as she dropped the mangled hand she held in her own, all the fingers snapped one by one like baby carrots. Suddenly, a thought struck her, reminiscent of the way this man’s hand struck his wife and children.

“Gosh, I forgot to put any music on! We can’t have a party without music now can we Oliver?” The young woman rose gracefully from her squatted position in front of him. Completely unbothered by her recent actions, not a slicked-back strand of hair out of place.

She left him in front of the couch across the room knowing she needn't worry about a possible escape, the deep gashes she sliced into both of his Achilles' tendons assured her of that. Though many would be worried about the blood that surely spread across the gorgeous wood floors, Isabella had already prepared as every available surface was covered in plastic tarps, including the ceiling. The space is reminiscent of a painter’s workspace which she feels fits with her brand since she plans on painting the walls a lovely shade of red.

“You’re an older man aren’t you Oliver? I’m sure you enjoy popular music from the 80s don’t you?” She turned around from facing the bookshelf filled with vinyl, cassette tapes, and CDs of different artists to stare at the man with a bright, questioning smile. When all she got was a grimace and a whimper the smile suddenly disappeared and a blank look fell across her face.

“I asked you a question Oliver and I expect an answer. A nod will suffice given the unfortunate state of your jaw.”

It took a few seconds, but a nod was given as an answer. It obviously caused the man pain. Isabella was sure his head was absolutely throbbing along with the rest of his body, but she simply did not care.

Instead, that smile once again brightened her features and she turned back to browsing the shelves while resuming her train of thought as if it had never ended.

“Wonderful, I am personally a big fan of Prince, especially his second album.” She pulls the Prince cassette off the shelf while humming “I Would Die 4 U” quietly to herself.

The tone she uses, while she speaks, is disconcertingly cheerful.

“Released in October of 1979 and produced by Warner Brothers I simply believe this album to truly be a masterpiece,” she spoke as she calmly walked a few paces to the left of the bookshelf where a small table housed a well used, but fully functioning stereo.

As she took the cassette from its case and placed it on the deck she continued her monologue, “I mean the man was only around twenty years old and he single-handedly wrote, arranged, composed, and produced an album that would later be certified platinum, I simply find it incredible.” At this point, Isabella was practically shouting as she disappeared through the doorway diagonal from the man on the opposite side of the room, “Did you know he taught himself how to play all of these instruments?”

Unknown to him she was looting the hall closet for the raincoat she had stashed in there weeks prior. While she did enjoy the artful splatter that was the result of blunt force trauma she, regretfully, has not had time to change out of her three-piece Tom Ford and has no desire to visit the town dry cleaner. The prices there are fucking criminal.

She came back into the room with the raincoat on and ignored the confusion and fear the trembling man exhibited as he began to realize their time together was reaching its climax. “I Wanna be Your Lover” was playing loudly enough over the speakers that Oliver could hardly hear what she was saying, he simply knew if he had any chance of escape he better do it now.

“See this song is simply masterful and catchy, I often find myself humming along as I garden or clean around my estate. However, I believe the true masterpiece of this album is “I Feel For You.” Although it’s not very underrated it does not get the attention it deserves,” by now, Isabella had walked past the music shelf and over to the far left side of the room where an ax was resting against the unlit fireplace.

Slowly, she picked it up and strolled back over to the man who was valiantly attempting to drag himself across the floor, however, his useless legs, mangled hands, broken ribs, shattered collarbones, and broken jaw, made the journey excruciating and useless for he was too weak. That’s without factoring in the blood he is still slowly losing and leaving trailed behind him like a wounded slug.

“You have made a decent effort in putting up a fight. I’ll have to hide these scratches on my forearms for a while, but I can always use the excuse of weeding around the thorny bushes I have in my garden. No one will find you, and your family will be released from the prison that came from living in a house with you. Abuse is no laughing matter Oliver, which I regretfully will not be able to teach your buddies from that bar anytime soon as it would be too suspicious.”

The man pitifully wiggled his useless body trying to get further away and as a final parting gift, and source of amusement, Isabella violently kicked him in his already broken ribs, knowing by the wheeze he involuntarily produced she had punctured a lung.

“Shame. I was going to ax you in the skull, but perhaps choking on your own blood will be more entertaining.” A tiny hint of excitement could be heard weaved into her words.

“At least I won't have to wash any blood off my face this time. I never miss anything, but it’s a hassle I have no patience for tonight. You are quite a heavy man Oliver and dragging your unconscious body across this fucking floor is a week’s worth of my workout routines.”

Isabella grabbed the small armchair placed against the wall and pulled it up next to Oliver’s body. He no longer had any fight left in him and simply wheezed and choked as blood spilled inside and outside of his body. She picked up the glass she had placed on the table hours prior while waiting for the shitstain to wake up, poured a double of expensive scotch, sat back, and watched for who knows how long as the light slowly left the man’s eyes.

Unbeknownst to her, as Isabella Swan was dividing up the pieces of her latest victim, four other women, one simply miles away, and the other three in a completely different state were all finishing a feeding as an unexplainable sense of satisfaction and renewed bloodlust washed over them all.

Five predators in the wild destined for each other had just completed a hunt and were ready for another.

Chapter Text

The woods surrounding the Cullen’s residence are relatively peaceful. Deer, bears, rabbits and other various woodland creatures traverse the land in peace. Peace, until a voracious predator in a diamond-like human shell, steals that peace away from them.

In the dead of night on what should be a peaceful Saturday Rosalie Hale Denali had just finished devouring her fifth deer of the night and was only now feeling somewhat satisfied.

A sigh of relief sounds from the amber-eyed blonde.

“Shit Rosie, maybe we should start looking for moose.” Emmett Cullen’s amused voice resounds from his place a few feet behind her crouched form. She became aware of his presence as soon as he was within a five-mile radius, but she long ago learned to control her instincts regarding vampires who provide no threat around her food.

She doesn’t turn around to address him.

“My name is Rosalie boy, and you would do well to remember that.” Emmett may be the most bearable member of the Cullen coven, but that does not mean she will tolerate disrespect. She has made it clear time and time again that the only people allowed to call her that wretched nickname are the three women she has given her heart.

He winces, “Sorry, with how long you’ve been with us I keep forgetting that you’re a thousand years older than Carlisle and not one of our siblings.”

This time it’s her that winces. She despises being reminded of the time she has spent around the Cullens, living with them is simply a burden she drags around until the torture ends.“Fret not, as soon as I get that diploma, you will not see my face for a long time. Hopefully, my absence will help you remember to respect your elders.”

She sighs when the awkward shuffling of Emmett’s feet reaches her ears. Finally, she stands up and turns around to face the boy in a grown man’s body. His broad shoulders are leaning against a thick tree trunk and his black hair is combed back out of his eyes.

“I am sorry Emmett, but you know how irritable I get when I am hungry.”

“You shouldn’t be this hungry Rosalie,” one corner of her mouth tilts up at hearing her full name, “not with how much you’ve eaten tonight.”

She knows that.

It’s another reason she’s been so “bitchy” as Edward and Alice like to label it. Her hunger has reached an all-time high and what used to be hunting every two weeks to keep her beast at a manageable level has been cut down to about twice a week. It simmers under her skin like acid and builds up until every month or so her primal cravings for a hunt go off the rails and she kills every blood source in her sights. She knows the ecosystems in the forest are likely feeling the losses heavily.

She wonders if her mates can feel it through the bond. When one of them experiences an emotion the others feel an echo of it across their bond, but when they all feel the same emotion at the same time it multiplies the feeling tenfold. Hunting together causes them all to almost go completely feral which really damages the image of cool and collected Rosalie Denali. Rosalie loves her mates and values them more than she does her own life, but sometimes the bond is a pain in the ass.

“I am aware of that, Emmett. Eleazar has been looking through old Volturi records to determine if something like this has occurred before, while I have been planning on calling my mothers.”

He hides it well, but Rosalie was able to catch Emmett’s flinch at the mention of their leaders and her familiar bond to Sulpicia and thus Didyme and Athenodora as well.

Around two thousand years ago the “mates” of Aro, Marcus, and Caius killed the utterly sadistic and tyrannical leaders of the Volturi and took the throne for themselves. It was discovered that Aro had ordered Chelsea, a high-ranking guard at the time, to use her gift to manipulate the mate bond between the three women and instead bound them to the three men. However, as time went on the potency of their true bond, which had already been fully formed, battled against Chelsea’s powers enough for them to resist her influence and take down the men holding them hostage. Chelsea was the first death to occur under the new regime and with strict, but just laws they maintain as peaceful a rule over their kingdom as possible.

It was around seven hundred years ago when Rosalie and her sisters were summoned to Volterra for the first time to answer for their dangerously vile actions and new title of “succubi”. Things became convoluted when Rosalie and Kate locked eyes with Sulpicia, Tanya and Irina locked eyes with Didyme, and suddenly they all felt a familial bond snap into place. Athenodora was wondering why the fuck the six women were staring at each other in terror and confusion until the word, “Mine,” left the mouths of the brunette and dirty blonde and all hell broke loose.

Incredibly long and quite depressing story short, the Denali coven is the home of the princesses of the Volturi and Carmen and Eleazar were tasked with their protection while away from the castle. It took a lot of getting used to and counseling to fully recover from losing Sasha. Learning to trust the guards that had a direct hand in their sire’s death was a major challenge for them all. Now, however, the Queens and their daughters have as strong of a bond with each other as they do with their mates.

One thing Rosalie has enjoyed while being with the Cullens is that her devotion to vampire law has put them extremely on edge. They have had to remain extra careful not to stretch their pinky across the line of what Sulpicia, Didyme, and Athenadora consider illegal activity. It has been so long since her mere presence struck fear into the hearts of people and she does not hate to admit that she revels in it.

It takes Emmett a second to figure out what he wants to say but, “How often do you and the Queens talk?” was honestly not anywhere near what she was expecting. If she hadn’t been alive as long as she has her eyebrow would have shot up in suspicion. For the entire forty-nine years she has spent around this pathetic coven not once has Emmett asked about her parents. It has simply been an invisible line he understood not to cross. Edward, Alice, and Carlisle on the other hand? They cross that line as often as they can get away with it.

“Why are you suddenly interested in when I talk to my parents?”

“Just uh, you know, curious as to how soon you will be able to…uh find out what’s going on with you?” The lie is shit and they both know it. Carlisle is always trying to find ways to make her slip up in regards to Volturi business and one of these days it is going to get him and his precious family killed.

“It is an irregular schedule and that is the only information you will receive and the only information Carlisle and Edward for that matter will be privy to. Now you go back to that house and tell those fools that if any of you ask about my family’s affairs again you and your family should expect a summon where you can ask your questions in front of the Queens, not me. Now run along boy, before I lose my temper.” She could hear her native accent slipping out in response to her temper building. If it were possible for vampires to blanch the big oaf looked like would have.

In the next second Emmett is running back to the Cullen house and Rosalie takes deep, unnecessary breaths trying to control her anger. The shadows around her begin to move without the sun’s direction. They lift off the ground and slowly begin to take the form of an inky black wolf much larger than the shifters in La Push as her anger shifts into a rage at the Cullen’s audacity. The echoes of concern from her mates reverberate through their bond and in the next moment her phone rang.

“Hello, elskurnar mínar.”

The shadow animal disperses and the tree’s silhouettes return to their rightful places on the ground.

“Rosie, what is going on? We could feel your rage, Is Fenrir being set free?” Tanya, always one to get straight to the point, is the one to speak, but Rose knows Irina and Kate are right next to her even though their enhanced hearing made it unnecessary.

“Emmett chose a roundabout way of trying to weasel information out of me regarding my calls to our parents at Carlisle’s behest. It made me quite irritable. I guess my powers are aching to be released after I’ve kept them in hiding for so long. You don’t have to worry about me though. I am very much in control. Hearing your voice is helping immensely”

Long ago when they all first met Carlisle, and the rest of his cult, Tanya, Irina, and Rose all agreed to keep the details of their gifts a secret from the Olympic coven. Eleazar’s detailed notes and additional suggestions from Sulpicia on hiding thoughts from those with gifts of telepathy made that a much easier task.

“We always worry about you when you aren’t with us, Rose.” This time it was Irina who spoke. Of the four of them, she can express her emotions the easiest. Between Tanya being their prideful coven leader and Rose and Kate being warriors taught that many emotions have no place on a battlefield, vulnerability is not something that comes easy to them. Irina has spent centuries drawing it out of them, though they still have their struggles.

“You know that is unnecessary. I am capable of taking care of myself.”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t still worry you asshole.” Rosalie tried her hardest, but she couldn’t hold back her smile at Kate’s sudden comment.

“Yes, I learned long ago that loving you three as deeply as I do means worrying constantly even with you right at my side. I imagine this is the same for you three.” Three different sounds of agreement come over the speaker.

“You do know that if Kate had not exiled me we would not be in this predicament.” She is sure they can hear the smirk in her voice, but that does not stop Kate from fighting back as Rose knew she would.

“I did not exile you! It was a bet which you happily agreed to by the way!”

“A bet you initiated knowing how competitive Rose is.” Irina grumpily spoke up.

“Kate you had to have known there was no way Rosie would have lost, especially not with the wager you put on the table.” Ah yes, the wager. A salacious smile was painted on Rosalie’s face even though she knew they could not see it.

“A wager I am ten months away from winning I would like to add.”

Kate had bet that if Rose could spend fifty years with the Cullens without returning to her home coven, Rose could be on top for double the amount she would spend with the Olympic coven. Rosalie, who is highly competitive and greatly enjoys the sight of Kate beneath her in bed, immediately agreed.

Granted, at the time Kate did not factor in that Rosalie being gone for fifty years would seriously screw with their bond as contact between mates, in both an intimate and sexual context, was extremely important for the emotional and eventually physical wellbeing of all mates involved. Usually, years pass by in the blink of an eye as immortal beings, but it has felt like time was passing as slowly as it does for a human without her loves by her side. Thus, every few months they all meet in a cabin they built far out in the forests of Washington where no human would feasibly venture, and the Cullens have no knowledge of, for quality time together.

“Believe me miláčik, we are very aware of when you will finally return to us for good.”

“I miss you all.”

“We miss you too láska. Rina and Tan have been arguing often which I think can be attributed to your extended retreat away from home. We may need to come down there sooner than we have scheduled.”

“You guys were down here two weeks ago Katarína.” Concerns grow in Rosalie’s gut hearing that Tanya and Irina, the most level-headed of the four of them, are arguing on a consistent basis. It’s this revelation that urges Rosalie to mention her hunting issues.

“Do you think your arguments can be attributed to the irritability of your beast?” Silence on the other end of the line until scuffling and mild cursing are heard meaning Tanya probably took the phone from Kate.

“Our beast’s need for slaughter is simmering and exploding on nearly a monthly interval. In the time between it sits in wait and feels almost impatient. Our hunting schedule has been bumped up significantly in response to it. Is it happening to you too? It feels as though we are all experiencing these emotions at the same time, which honestly just doesn’t make sense.” Tanya speaks while obviously pacing back and forth as Rosalie listens to her step, step, step, step, step, step, turn.

“It is also happening to me, but it feels closer to echoes of our most extreme emotions. The ones so strong they infect the bond and we all take on the same emotions at almost a visceral level. I already have Eleazar looking through his old records for us.”

Tanya hums over the line which Rosalie knows means she is thinking.

“A penny for your thoughts Tan?” Rosalie asks knowing Tanya isn’t likely to share her musings unless she reaches a definitive conclusion.

“Just thinking of possible explanations, but I can’t be sure unless I have more information.”

It’s quiet on both sides of the line as they all try to work out what could be causing this issue.

“If this gets any worse Rosalie fuck your bet, we’ve all suffered over your absence enough, you will come home. I fear whatever this…unnatural hunger is will affect us while you are in the middle of that godforsaken high school.”

As much as Rosalie hates to admit it, Tanya has a point. If this issue gets worse instead of getting better and bleeds into her days she would be putting the lives of those humans and her family at risk. She can’t even ponder what kind of revolt would happen if her mothers let her get away with slaughtering an entire high school and subsequently revealing their nature. They would likely have to kill the entire town of Forks. It would be a shit show.

“Understood Tan.” As Rosalie looks around she realizes that the sun is beginning to rise.

“I regrettably promised Alice I would go to the mall to find clothes for these upcoming months. Honestly, I have no clue why that miserable woman can’t wear clothes from prior years, it is unbelievably wasteful.”

Again, multiple grunts of agreement came over the phone speaker.

“I love you Neisti minn, minn sannleikur, ambrosia mín.” Rosalie puts as much love into the pet names as she can, knowing how much they make her mates melt.

“God Rosie, we love you too, so much.” She hears Irina speak up. Their separations are always hardest on the two of them with them both being the youngest and having the most tragic stories around their changings. Irina and Rose were able to comfort each other when Tan and Kate had no idea how to.

“I will call you all soon. Take care of each other please.”

Further goodbyes and declarations of love are exchanged before they finally end their call.

Rosalie sits in silence, enjoying the stillness of the forest as it calms her aching heart. She misses being able to wake up with her mates’ arms around her. They always make sure she is in the middle of their pile as she is the youngest. Even though they know she does not need it, they always protect her when she is most vulnerable. The feeling of being surrounded by the three women she loves most in the world never fails to make her feel like the luckiest woman on the planet.

She can feel those same feelings of bloodlust and impatience brewing in her core. It is nowhere near the heights it reaches every few days, but it is now unmistakable. As time goes on Rose knows, it will grow until they all feel feral with the need to hunt, which she can not allow.

She will figure out what is causing this before they have a tragedy on their already blood-soaked hands.

Chapter Text

Senior year at Forks High School begins during the last week of August. Summer is on its last leg and fall is ready to welcome students back to another year of hell.

Waking up at dawn’s ass crack for the first day of senior year tends to be exciting for most people. The first day of their last year in high school as many say. For Isabella, nothing even resembling excitement is flowing through her veins, though the clean air and quiet of the forest does help to center her a bit. Her eighteenth birthday coming up in September provides her the option of leaving it all behind, but a high school graduate blends in with society better than a dropout.

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Isabella dutifully sticks to her daily morning routine. An ice mask covers her eyes to reduce their puffiness while doing upwards of a thousand crunches. When she’s done and the ice mask is removed she uses a deep pore cleanser lotion on her face in the first step of her admittedly extensive skincare routine. This is followed by a shower in which she thoroughly cleanses her body with a water-activated gel scrub and her highly coveted honey almond body scrub…which she is almost out of.

“Shit, I need to order more of this…possibly in bulk.”

After exfoliating her body, she exfoliates her face with a gel scrub removing all her dead skin cells and leaving her feeling clean and smooth to the touch.

Designer clothes hang in the bedroom closet and she chooses carefully to prepare for the day. When in public, casual is not a word in her vocabulary.

She’s taken the time to park the vintage cars she inherited from her late grandmother in the conveniently large garage outside and carefully chooses the one she thinks will turn the most heads.

Whoever built this cabin must have owned a considerable fortune because it has everything she needs. Its open floor plan, exquisite architecture, and excessive amount of windows provide Isabella with the forest home of many people’s dreams. Honestly, it's closer to being a fucking mansion than it is a cabin, but who is she to complain. Yes, she has considered the possibility of whoever owns the cabin coming back someday, but she will cross that likely blood-soaked bridge when she gets to it.

As she rolls into the high school parking lot in her black 1963 Aston Martin DB5 she feels the stares of the rest of the student body.

Isabella is not a people person, she despises most people really, but god does she love making people realize she’s better than them. At least, she enjoys making people realize the facade of Isabella Swan is better than they will ever be.

There is a prototype of Isabella Marie Swan, the long-lost daughter of the police chief, some kind of abstraction, but there is no her, she is an illusion.

Though she can hide her cold gaze and her classmates can shake her hand and feel flesh gripping theirs and some of them may even sense that their lifestyles are comparable in some ways: she is simply not there.

She sits in her car after parking and checks her hair in the rearview mirror. Hands that at first glance do not appear capable of choking a full-grown man adjust nearly nine hundred dollar Prada cufflinks. They are understated enough to only be recognizable by those who Isabella craves to piss off.

As she opens the door the first things visible are her Tom Ford boots. She feels hundreds of eyes trail up her body to take in the light gray, gorgeously tailored, double-breasted, Edward Sexton suit. The stares further climb up and admire her jet black hair which she slicked back to keep out of her face where Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses are perched on her nose.

Isabella can practically hear the 'who the fuck is that?' ringing through the minds of every cretin within her eyesight.

It feels wonderful.

As this is going through her mind Isabella is obviously not staring back at them. She can’t act like she knows she’s god’s gift to humanity, people tend to dislike that. She acts just the opposite, humble and kind.

She walks around her car to open the passenger side door and grabs her backpack and walkman off the seat. Old school headphones are slid over her ears and she hits play on some random 80s Classic Rock mixtape she made.

Her gait is confident, but she keeps her head down to resemble a bit of meekness. Although out of the corners of her eyes, Isabella is analyzing everyone to determine how she should approach her new group of schoolmates.

To her left she can see two girls, one dirty blonde and the other almost platinum, clearly talking shit about her based on their stares, sneers, and whispers. For a second she pictures what their heads would like on sticks which almost makes her smile wistfully. Maybe one day. Right next to Regina George and Karen Smith are three guys obviously trying to figure out the quickest way into her pants, as if she’s an easy lay.

Good luck with that boys, blondie number one and two have a better shot than any of you fools.

Despite her preference for blondes, she knows those two parasites won’t be getting within ten feet of her unless absolutely necessary.

As she gets closer to the school entrance and her gaze drifts to the right, she clocks a group of nearly unnaturally gorgeous-looking people in the far corner of the lot. They all appear too old to be in high school, so they’re either as dumb as a sack of hammers or she needs to keep an eye on them.

It’s just as she’s about to look away from the group’s bronze-haired asshole attempting his best impression of Edgar Allen Poe, when she sees the reincarnation of fucking Freya.

Dear lord. Elle Woods and her fellow Delta Nu over there have nothing on her.

The blonde is standing off to the side of the rest of who Isabella assumes is her family…though upon further consideration there is something just simply…

Wrong.

There are five of them and they all have something odd about them. None of them look anything alike and yet they share the same unique eye color. There is a blonde male whose posture reminds her of a soldier fresh out of the army, he looks like he could be in his mid-twenties, as they all do, and his face has pain written all over it. She catches his eyes cut to a black guy laughing while hanging around the two blonde parasites she noticed previously. His painful grimaces briefly turns into a violent sneer and she has to restrain herself from snapping his neck in front of the entire student population. Isabella has dealt with racists before and they never live long afterward.

Whatever remains of her moral compass–if she ever had one that is–despises people who believe they are above anyone else for whatever reason. Human beings are scumbags and she recognizes that she is no different, but if she can aid in ridding the world of a decent amount of them and have fun while doing it then she can blissfully ignore the flames licking at her heels.

Off his arm hangs a brunette woman with a wild pixie cut who looks at him with a nearly disturbing devotion. For siblings, those two seem to be…extremely close. Standing next to them is a man with a goofy grin plastered on his face like an imbecile that looks like he could fight a bear. Lastly, there’s the author of The Telltale Heart. He has his arms crossed and his eyes drift from the head of one student to another with such extreme intensity it looks like he is trying to crack their skulls open and peer at their thoughts. When she notices his eyes try to shift her way her hackles raise.

Don’t look at me.

His eyes drift past her and circle back around to the most enticing member of their little group who seems disengaged from the other four.

The blonde isn’t just standing to the side, she seems as though she’s trying to completely ignore the existence of the others. Her body language is turned away from them as she checks her nails in a way that is supposed to look nonchalant, but Isabella can see the tension in her shoulders. This isn’t just one sibling being a loner—if it were up to her, the blonde wouldn’t be excluded from shit—but it’s like the blonde and the other four are completely separated in terms of relation.

The idea of the woman not belonging with the other four she already doesn't like makes something possessive stir within her. In the few seconds it takes Isabella to walk past the five strangers she’s already made up her mind.

Don’t worry darling. By the end of the year, you and everyone in this town will know you belong with me.

As she’s finishing that thought, the blonde’s eyes suddenly shoot up from her nails and lock with Isabella’s.

Time seems to slow down as Isabella walks past the woman. No one exists except the two of them at that moment, until the blonde’s eyes widen a fraction and her heated gaze turns into a deadly glare.

If Isabella were any other person, she would be terrified, but she’s not any other person and her nearly predatory gaze turns into a cocky smirk.

Right as she opens the door to the school and walks inside she can physically feel the fury of the blonde roll down her spine.

Gods above maybe this year will be interesting after all.

Rosalie is struggling. The handsome new girl with the gorgeous car and obnoxiously irritating smirk is taking up almost all of the space in her mind. If she’s being frank it’s becoming a bit of a nuisance because seeming at the very least mildly interested in her classes keeps the teachers from trying to make an example out of her. She doesn’t need that kind of spotlight put on her, not only because it draws the attention of the children around her, but more so due to the fact that her current short fuse would not allow her to not retaliate in some way.

The entire day Rosalie has not been able to figure out why the obviously cocky and likely narcissistic new kid is staying in everyone’s head like it’s free fucking real estate. Whispers in the hallway have made the name Isabella Swan–never Bella or Izzy as the girl apparently made abundantly clear–the hottest bit of gossip this school has seen since Mike Newton and Lauren Mallory got caught making out in the boy's locker room two years ago. Thus it makes sense that the girl should at the very least be on Rosalie’s radar, but it’s not for the reasons of everyone else.

The girl unnerves Rosalie in a way no one, but her mates, has been able to in a long time. Locking eyes with her earlier that morning it felt like the world stopped turning for longer than the few seconds it lasted. Her confident stride and the arrogance Rosalie could see on her face right before the school doors shut behind her do not fit with the meek and almost shy personality that has been spoken about by those that share a class with her.

There’s something off about Isabella Swan. What kind of human girl could unnerve Rosalie Hale Denali, daughter of the Raven King, and Princess of the Volturi? It should not be possible.

It isn’t possible and until Rosalie finds out why it feels like it is, no one will find out about it, including her mates.

Chapter Text

It’s the Monday of the second week of school and Rosalie’s distrust of Isabella Swan has multiplied tenfold.

They have barely interacted since that morning of the first day of school last Monday morning, but every day at lunch Isabella makes a point to lock eyes with her and smirk before looking away for the rest of the period.

It is infuriating.

Rosalie Denali does not like playing games…unless they involve her mates, nudity, and preferably a bed at some point.

In less than a week, Isabella became a favorite of the teachers as her answers were apparently not only correct but highly advanced.

She has infiltrated the friend group of Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory and charmed her way into high school popularity. Tyler Crowley and Mike Newton can’t keep it in their pants– when have they ever been able to is the real question– after discovering she understands sports. Angela Weber finally has someone to have in-depth conversations with about classic literature. Isabella Swan is perfect, except, a perfect human doesn’t exist.

Rosalie wonders what kind of skeletons Isabella has hiding in her upscale closet.

However, it’s quite clear, at least to Rosalie, that the new kid remains as falsely humble and passive-aggressively kind as possible to hide the fact that she hates everyone around her. Isabella honestly reminds Rosalie a little bit of herself though she refuses to go down that rabbit hole.

She memorizes her every facial expression and analyzes all of Isabella’s body language in hopes of solving the enigma that is the prodigal daughter of the Chief of Police. It only took her a week to come to her conclusion.

'Isabella Swan' is a mask.

Her true nature is something everyone around her will likely never be privy to. Rosalie sees every grimace and sneer. Every time her eyes glaze over and a brief look of malice is painted across her face. Her face becomes a blank slate when she thinks no one is watching, only for a smile that looks natural to the naked eye but causes Isabella’s eye to spasm minutely in concentration as Angela engages her in conversation. Every facial expression is a perfectly practiced facade that no human would ever be able to deduce.

The girl’s scent of petrichor, iron, and a very subtle layer of almond is so enticing, that Rosalie finds it hard to stay away, and yet it also makes it very easy to avoid the girl in the halls. She’s never come across a human whose scent can make her nearly weak in the knees and she fears what that could mean. Has she found her singer?

No, Rosalie does not like nor trust Isabella Swan and she is determined to discover who the girl truly is and how she is able to screw with her emotions like this.

“Her emotions are…strange.”

Though she didn’t outwardly show it, Jasper’s words caught her attention. As much as she hates the man and all that he stands for, his gift is incredibly useful.

“I can read them, but they almost feel like they’re fake. There’s this underlying feeling of deception and malice. Even further than that there’s this intense feeling of obsession, but I don’t know where it is targeted. I don’t trust her.”

“I can’t read her.”

Now that caused Rosalie to abruptly cut her eyes from her weekly subscription to Car and Driver to Edward’s eyes.

“What do you mean you can’t read her boy? Is your gift not workingagain?” She enjoys poking fun at the fact that he can't read her and her mates’ thoughts. It grinds his gears in a way nothing else can.

He scowls at her and Alice places a hand on his arm to likely prevent him from jumping across the table at her. She can feel her anger and desire for a fight rising. The shadows of the room shift and she knows she needs to reign it in before she makes a mistake.

“Answer me, Edward.”

“I don’t answer to you, I answer to Carlisle.” She scoffs.

“Carlisle answers to my coven and you answer to whoever your coven leader answers to. Now you better make that disgusting little mouth of yours answer my question before I drag you into that parking lot by your tongue and make you wish you had listened the first time I asked.”

“Answer the question Edward, she's not the only one wondering.” Alice finally jumps into the conversation. Emmett has been as quiet as he usually is when conversations such as this one arise. For a vampire with a gift of incredible strength, the man has no spine when it comes to his “family’s” business.

“I can’t read her mind. The first time I tried to lay eyes on her I heard her think ‘Don’t look at me’ and now it’s like she’s a blind spot. I can barely bring myself to look within a foot to the side of her. What if she’s a threat?”

Rosalie barely holds back a scoff. Like that creep would do anything but try and get the girl to join their fucked up little coven. The man collects gifted vampires on the same level as that bastard Aro used to. She wouldn’t be surprised if Carlisle tried to organize an uprising to overthrow the crown. The niggling feeling of anxiety that she gets whenever she’s around that man flares up at the thought of him attacking her family.

From Rosalie’s point of view, it sounds like Isabella has an early gift manifestation, a strong one at that, but obviously, she isn’t going to share that with the Cullens. Perhaps this latent gift has something to do with the draw she feels to this girl.

Fuck, could this girl get any more anxiety-inducing than she already is?

"I haven't seen anything about her being a threat anywhere in the future, but I will keep an eye out. We need to have a family meeting soon and tell Carlisle and Esme about this."

The fact that Carlisle is likely going to be looking at getting his hands on the girl makes a sudden surge of protective anger rise in her chest before she crushes into the depths of her psyche. Jasper’s glance at her and she knows she needs to keep a tighter lid on her emotions around these people, even if she doesn’t really understand them.

Why couldn’t this last year be as boring and mildly bearable as the others?

The bell signaling the end of lunch reverberates through the cafeteria and everyone makes their way to the start of their afternoon classes. Rosalie leaves without a goodbye to the other immortals and heads toward her favorite class she’s ever had, Motorcycle Repair and Mechanics. How this small ass town managed to get it added to their elective list she has no clue, but she isn’t going to complain.

This class has remained her safe haven at this school this entire week, and will likely remain that way for the rest of the year. Here there are no Cullens putting her on edge, none of the human children dare to bother her, and most importantly no Isabella Swan to screw with her emotions and instincts.

Admittedly, when she saw the type of car the girl drove in on the first day and the incredible conditions it was in she feared the girl may enjoy automobile mechanics as much as Rosalie does. Though as the week has dragged on it seems that the new girl simply puts enough money into keeping her cars in good condition, which Rosalie respects.

The little bit of disappointment she feels for not sharing a class with the girl is steadily ignored.

Well, it was being ignored until it was suddenly replaced with shock and anger seeing that same girl sitting in the empty seat next to hers as soon as she walked into the garage.

Rosalie can hear the sound of the teacher, Mr. Riley, walking toward her, but his footsteps were muffled. She feels like her head got dunked under water and she’s drowning in a swirling scent of fresh rain, newly made weapons from her village’s blacksmith, and that lingering scent of almonds. It wafts around the shop and is nearly making the blonde vampire lightheaded.

“Ah, Rosalie! Ms. Swan just transferred into our class today and since you're the only one in the class without a partner I gave her the open seat next to yours. I look forward to seeing what you two do together!”

That seat is open and should have remained open is because these other imbeciles have a fucking sense of self-preservation. What the fuck is wrong with this girl?

If Kate were here she’d be absolutely losing her shit at the look on Rosalie’s face. The blonde vampire is simply flabbergasted.

Rosalie turns her head and looks at her new bench partner to find Isabella Swan already staring right back at her. The girl smirks and slowly raises a hand to give her a sarcastic little wave.

Who the fuck does this girl think she is?

Rosalie’s patented glare slides right back onto her face and the students around her can feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. The princess slowly saunters down the middle row of the room with her black, Prada, stilettos obnoxiously clacking on the concrete flooring. She never loses eye contact with the still-smirking teenager whose heart rate she can hear is beginning to speed up what Rosalie hopes is anxiety.

When she finally makes it to her stool she sits down gracefully and turns to the head of the room, ignoring the girl next to her that still hasn’t stopped staring.

Eventually, when the girl finally registers that Rosalie plans to pay her no mind, she reaches a hand out towards her to shake in first greeting.

“Hello, I’m Isabella Swan.”

…

“Hello?”

…

The hand slowly recedes.

“Well fuck Frejya if you’re going to be like this I can’t wait to see how our grades end up by the end of the year.”

When the girl impiously calls her the name of a revered goddess her tribe worships she snaps her gaze towards the idiotic girl.

She hisses at the girl, “Don’t you ever compare me to the Gods you imbecilic heathen! Now shut your mouth and listen well, I won’t have you lowering my grade with your senseless chatter so you best pay attention and only speak to when spoken to.”

Isabella does as requested without the smirk ever leaving her face, though Rosalie can smell the blood that rushes to her face and neck. Assuming the girl is rightfully embarrassed Rosalie tunes her out and resolves to ignore her as best she can for the rest of the school year.

Thus, she believes the arousal causing her to shift on her stool coming through her mate bond is attributed to her loves up in Alaska.

With her thoughts now taken by how much she misses her mates and the passionate nights they’ll spend together the next time she can get her hands on them again, she misses the heady notes that now intermingle with Isabella’s scent and the dark obsession slowly turning into a burning and possessive infatuation glowing in the other girl’s eyes.

Chapter Text

The school year is passing as slowly as Isabella expected it to. Every day that she gets to sit next to Rosalie in shop is a blessing even if the blonde only speaks to her when it is absolutely necessary.

Rosalie may not think so, but Isabella is extremely aware of every glance the other girl sends her way. The intense calculating look on Rosalie’s face as she tries to figure her out is admittedly extremely attractive.

In the month and a half since the beginning of school Isabella has established herself within a friend group and managed to become “popular”. As much as she despises the other people with the same title, being around them does have some benefits. However, most of those benefits are spat upon due to the close proximity she has to endure with Lauren and Jessica every day.

She knows everything that goes on inside and outside the town thanks to what she’s heard her classmates refer to as the “popular kid gossip wheel”. A bit on the nose if you ask her, but she has learned to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s in the second week of October when that gossip circle finally comes in handy. Lauren’s father is a detective with the Forks police department and keeps her up to date on the most recent crimes in the area. She then obviously tells her best friend Jessica who can’t keep mouth shurt worth a damn.

One of the guys that has been trying to get in her pants since the first day–Mitch or maybe Max–brings up the latest murder case that he obviously heard from Jessica if her blush and Lauren’s glare are anything to go by. A man from Seattle went drinking with his friends and no one had seen him since he left the bar that night. Apparently, police delegated it to major crimes and searched for the guy for three weeks after his wife reported him missing and every lead they had went stale.

She is immensely glad to hear this as her desire for blood under her nails has almost become unbareable. Isabella has a distinct desire to viciously torture an unsuspecting person until they beg for her to end them, only to drag it on until they reach a breaking point. For the weeks following Oliver’s end she has tried to keep up with the investigation, but at times it became difficult as she refrained from buying a police scanner to avoid suspicion.

It has become increasingly difficult to hold herself back, but with Oliver’s case officially being named a cold case she has liberty to plan her next attack. With how she’s been feeling recently it will likely be sooner rather than later.

Oliver’s wife released a statement saying she struggles to feel bad for the disappearance of her husband when he abused her and their son so brutally. She had to quit her job to hide all the unexplainable injuries. Apparently, no one thought it important, or were simply too lazy, to tell someone about the injuries on the boy and thus Oliver was easily able to hide his wrongdoings.

Well, until he met me that is.

When Isabella heard of Oliver’s wife she smiled a little bit. No one deserves to be brutally beaten by the ones supposed to love them, especially a child. It tears you apart bit by bit until any vestiges of sanity slip through your fingers.

Memories of Phoenix flash through her mind like a slide show.

Basement. Cage.

Bruises.

Starving.
Stairs. Falling. Broken.

“No. Hospital.”

Screaming. Basement.
Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Come on Bella play with me.”
Stop.
“Phil, stop please!”

Screaming. Stop

Crying.
Stop.
Screaming.
Screaming!
SCREAMING!

“Isabella!”

She whips her head around so hard to face Angela she is almost certain she heard the faint echoes of it snapping. Her breathing is irregular and she can feel a cold sweat dripping down her neck. No one else seems to notice her mild panic except maybe the multiple sets of amber eyed stares she can feel piercing the back of her skull. Two sets, however, feels as though they would burrow into her brain if they could, and she’s certain they belong to Rosalie Hale and Edward Cullen.

“I’m sorry Angela. I was just thinking about how…awful it must have been for that man’s wife and child for them to not feel any grief. It’s horrible.” She makes sure that her face is one of worry and what she hopes resembles empathy, that’s always been a facial expression she could never get quite right.

Angela’s face morphs into one of sympathy and Isabella pumps her fist in her head.

I’m getting better at that one…go me!

“I understand. It is really terrible to think about. If you ever need someone to talk to I’m here.”

Angela is truly a kind soul, it’s a shame she’s wasting that energy on someone who doesn't appreciate it.

“I will. Thank you.”

When Angela goes back to her book, Wuthering Heightsa good choice, Isabella turns her head over her right shoulder to find the Cullen table. She locks eyes with the only pair still locked on hers and throws a saccharine smile at the blonde woman, but right as she goes to turn back around she notices hints of concern on her face. Isabella’s smile falls and she quickly turns back around in her seat.

Was my slip of control over myself really that obvious?

She has found a childlike joy in annoying the blonde as much as she could, but someone showing…concern over her wellbeing is new. It confuses her. As much as Isabella enjoys knowing that she could easily draw anyone in to do her bidding, she also knows that it is all fake. Everyone is so caught up in themselves that the happenings in the world around them never fully compute. No one really cares about her just as she doesn’t really care about anyone else.

Well, she previously did not care about anyone else, until the norse goddess of love, fertility, battle, and death locked eyes with her at the beginning of the school year. All it took was one look and suddenly she couldn’t get Rosalie Hale out of her mind. Isabella wants to know everything there is to know about the girl. She wants to devour her one minute and show her most gentlest of passions the next. She feels as if she would hunt down anyone who would dare threaten her wellbeing and burn the world at her feet as a sign of her devotion.

It’s terrifying how much Isabella can suddenly feel.

She turns her eyes back to the rest of the table to see the guys engaging in a dick measuring contest over whether they could have solved the case better than the cops. Isabella leans back in her chair with her eyes closed and tries to reminisce on the night of Oliver’s murder to take her mind off of her suddenly overwhelming emotions. She can almost feel the delicious burn in her arms as she hacked him into pieces to feed to the wolves.

She’s is in her own little world until Jessica fucking Stanley’s annoying ass voice breaks through her pleasurable haze.

“So, Isabella do you have any plans this weekend? We were planning on heading to La Push, what do you think, can you come?”

What do I think? I think that you're a fucking ugly bitch and I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood.

Isabella blinks a bit.

I need to find a victim before it ends up being this bitch in the middle of passing period, but it’s too soon after the closing of Oliver’s case for someone else to go missing…

Which simply means I need to find someone who won’t be missed.

The mildly flirtatious undertone to Jessica’s inquiry is not lost on her. The guys are not the only cretins in this school that have been feeling drawn towards her. Nevertheless, Isabella has no desire to be this walking disaster’s lesbian experiment. She may kill people as a pastime, but a girl is allowed to have certain standards thank you very much.

“Yes, Jessica, I do happen to have plans this weekend.” The flash of disappointment that crosses the girl's face doesn't move Isabella in the slightest, but she paints a sympathetic smile on her face anyway. “I’m sorry, but if you tell me sooner next time I should be able to come.”

“No worries, I’ll invite you earlier next time I promise!” Please don’t. “Wonderful, I’ll look forward to it.” Don’t talk to me anymore I can’t stand it.

Luckily, Mike starts talking about the dance they’re supposedly having around winter break even though it's about two months away. Everyone is successfully distracted and Isabella turns around to catch another glimpse at the woman who strangely has her affections, to find her missing. Instead, she locks eyes with the other blonde-haired Cullen and she has to restrain her face from shifting menacingly as anger rushes through her body.

Her skin feels like it’s tightening around her bones as the two students lock eyes across the cafeteria. The desire for blood on her hands suddenly ramps up into overdrive and she knows her tentative plans are getting bumped up to tonight.

She can’t wait anymore.

The blonde bastard’s eyes widen, she can sense Edward Cullen’s gaze piercing into her forehead, and Isabella suddenly feels cornered. She doesn’t let her mask slip anymore than it has and forces her face to return to its typically blank slate and calmly turns her eyes away from her least favorite Cullen so far. No one seems to have noticed the interaction and yet she still feels like a wild beast is trying to burst from her chest.

All she can imagine is the blood that would decorate the walls of this room after she slaughtered everyone around her. The brain matter and entrials lining the floor and ceiling as she viciously ripped apart their corpses. It would be the most beatiful art piece she’d have ever created.

The eyes of the Cullens on her back make her skin itch and she decides it’s time to make her leave. These past fifteen minutes of lunch have been exhausting enough and with her sudden change of plans she needs to map out tonight’s activities. She can’t think with Jessica and Lauren bitching away right next to her, so she stands up without a word, dumps her tray, and seeks out a presence that calms her mind instead of aggravating it.

Rosalie Hale.

She has about twenty minutes left during the lunch period and only has a few guesses as to where the woman may have gone. The first stop is the library after having seen the blonde in there reading some car magazines in the morning and at lunch a couple of times. Though when Isabella discovereds she isn’t there she heads to the parking lot.

Rosalie has the most expensive and properly cared for car of the entire Cullen clan, so Isabella surmised that it’s likely she has as much of a love of cars as she does, which means her car is a sanctuary. When she steps out of the front doors she sees Rosalie leaning against her driver side door and she smiles.

Isabella somehow knows Rosalie was aware of her presence long before she’s standing in front of her, but the woman is almost like a stature. Unmoving, but gorgeous features perfectly sculpted with the upmost care. Up close Rosalie Hale’s beauty is as breath taking as it is daunting.

“If you blink I won’t disappear you know.” Isabella isn’t quiet sure about that.

“Are you sure? I’ve looked for you in the halls every day this month and only ever see the tips of your hair as you and eventually they disappear around a corner. I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me Miss Hale.” Isabella leans back against Edward Cullen’s car as she watches Rosalie watch her.

She allows the woman to drag hers eyes across every inch of her person in hopes of appeasing whatever questions she has rolling through her head.

Eventually, her eyes meet with Isabella’s and the world pauses for half a second just as it has on that fateful first day.

“I don’t know what makes you think you’re nearly so important as to make me avoid you Miss Swan.” Her tone borders on being dangerous and Isabella can feel a pleasant heat spread through her body. Gods above this woman is magnificent.

“I never said I’m important Miss Hale. Quite the opposite actually, I think you are the important one of the two of us.”

Rosalie raises an eyebrow.

“You are a wonder. Truly, until you I’ve never looked at anyone and felt anything beside utter indifference or disdain and yet this is the first time we’ve ever had a fully fleshed out conversation. You enchanted me the moment we locked eyes that Monday morning and I will not stop until I do become important enough for you to avoid. Hopefully, by that point, however, avoiding me will be the last thing on your mind.”

Isabella is certain that Rosalie’s jaw would be on the ground if she wasn’t a woman of decorum.

She has spent every moment of this past month with Rosalie Hale on her mind. Ever since she realized it is their kismet to end up together, she has planned out her approach. Moments not spent fantasizing about her next crime were spent reliving the glorious moment of the first time they made eye contact. The first time she knew the blonde would be her’s. She imagined what it would feel like when they first kissed, when they first made love. Sure, this is their first time seriously conversing, but Isabella has never been one to twiddle her thumbs.

“You plan to…court me?”

“I guess so. I’ve never really cared to pursue anyone romantically. People don’t usually evoke those kinds emotions in me. Looking at you is the only time I feel anything remotely close to passion for another person. Most days, the only passion I feel is for my work, but I crave the things you make me feel and I will stop at nothing to-”

“I’m already in a relationship.”

It suddenly feels like a ton of bricks just hit hit her in the chest as her breath is almost audibly knocked from her lungs. Why does she feel like this? Hurt like this? Rejection has never bothered her. She can hire women to take care of her needs, but this is different. Though she is determined to keep her face as stoic it was a minute ago.

“What is your partner’s name then?”

Rosalie leans in and looks her directly in the eye with a minute scowl on her face,“Their names are Tanya, Katarína, and Irina and they would not appreciate your plans to court their girlfriend. I recommend you walk back inside that school and get ready for our mechanics class before I make a phone call and have them down here to deal with you personally.”

For reasons unknown, the sound of those three names create a new twisting feeling in Isabella’s chest. She doesn’t know what this new feeling is as she’s never experienced it before. It’s a pull so strong it nearly hurts before it settles again. New emotions of confusion and anxiety bloom in her stomach, and yet they don’t quite feel like her own. She can feel them and understand them and yet somewhere in the back of her psyche she knows they do not belong to her.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Isabella does her best to ignore these feelings–that are decidedly not her own what ever the fuck that means–and instead focuses on this new information.

Knowing that Rosalie is taken means nothing to her. She knows she and her are meant for each other. How else would the woman make her feel like this? If she has to take care of the little conflict of interest these three new women have created so be it. Freya is meant to be hers to worship and Isabella has never been scared to take what’s hers.

“Very well.”

She takes her leave and heads back into the school building with new plans already forming in her mind. However, the names of Rosalie’s partners still float around in the back of her head like the most gorgeous melody she can’t get out of her head.

“What the fuck was that?”

Rosalie is almost distraught with how confused she is. She can feel her mates questioning her through the bond, but she has no desire to try and explain this right now.

How is she supposed to explain that a human that sends alarm bells ringing through her head, who is likely mentally unstable, has become so obsessed with her that she plans to court her? They’ve barely spoken to each other for fucks sake! How is she supposed to explain that the idea doesn’t repulse her? How does she tell her mates that she feels attracted to a human girl when she already has the three of them?

Despite her hesitations, Rosalie’s beast hasn’t felt as calm as it did in Isabella’s presence since her mates were here a month and a half ago. Her beast is once again reaching its tipping point and she left the cafeteria when the smell of the humans around her became too much. A few moments later she and her mates’ beasts roared inside them all so strongly it took every thread of control she had to avoid a catastrophe. Rosalie went outside to get some fresh air and make a plan for what they could do as obviously this hunger issue will not be getting better any time soon.

Then Isabella Swan had to come outside, throwing Rosalie’s slowly developing calm out the window, but not for the reasons one would think. Her beast simmered down, but the hunger remained and the desire to hunt the closest food source down and feel the blood coat her throat became nearly overwhelming. However, her beast did not desire to take that blood from Isabella, it wanted to take it from others with Isabella.

The desires of her beast stunned her as hunting with others is an extremely intimate occasion usually reserved for mates or coven members.

Rosalie should probably look into that deeper, but for now, she is comfortable in her state of denial.

Then the infuriating girl opened her mouth and the growing feeling of her desire was obliterated and morphed into complete and utter confusion.

Isabella’s declarations themself were actually quite awkward. Her face struggled to display genuine sincerity despite Rosalie somehow knowing that the girl truly meant what she said. Her eyes reflected an almost disturbing amount of obsession reflective of how Alice looks at Jasper.

Rosalie knows she needs to tell her mates what’s happening, but she fears how they will react to how the human makes her feel. What if they think she’s trying to find a substitute for them in their absence?

Apparently, her confusion has obviously turned into a startling amount of anxiety because in the next moment Tanya’s ringtone is charming from her pocket.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Ring

Ring Ring.

Rosalie is still staring at the phone in her hand hoping it would spontaneously combust. There are probably only two or so rings left before the call is ignored and however much she wishes she could dodge the call, it would just stir up a whole other shit storm.

She takes a deep breath (are my hands trembling?) and taps the answer button.

“Rose? Fuck, what the hell took so long? Are you okay? We can feel your anxiety love, it’s almost crippling. What’s going on?”

Questions left and right that Rosalie has no idea how to answer for the most part. Tanya being the one to ask them makes it all the more difficult to navigate.

“I’m managing okay Tan. I came to the parking lot to escape the cafeteria. A girl came out after me and fucked with my control. She was just an overwhelming annoyance.”

That’s enough of the truth that she hopes it didn't raise any alarms. She just doesn’t need to mention what type of control she was struggling with...right?

“Rosie, are you sure you’re okay? We were about half a second away from heading down there ourselves.”

Gods above she loves her mates. Their concern for her well-being never fails to make her smile.

She can hear Kate and Irina spouting out questions like a fire hose for Tanya to ask as if she can’t hear them.

“Ask her if the Cullen cult is behaving themselves!” She can hear Kate whisper-shout.

“They skate the line of respect in my presence but my hackles are beginning to raise.”

That gets everyone’s attention and she can hear growls coming from all three of their chests.

“What have they done?”

“Who dared to disrespect you?”

“Can I kill them?”

Irina, Tanya, and Kate ask in that order. She can use this to her advantage. Her mates will think her worry is also a byproduct of her suspicions.

“The Cullens have been quiet and barely speak when I am around which is truly a feat for Edward and Emmett Irina. Carlisle, Edward, and Alice are constantly testing the parameters of my authority and patience Tanya. And not quite yet Kate, but the date for their demise is slowly moving closer Minn neisti.”

Their beasts snarl a bit before seeming to settle down.

There’s shuffling on the other end of the line before Kate’s voice comes through the speakers.

“Rose I know you want to win, but this bet does not come before your safety and wellbeing. If you determine that you need to leave or we need to come down there just say the words.”

To hear that coming from Kate of all people tells her how worried they truly are. Her heart twists in her chest at the thought of causing them all this much distress. If she can feel it here in Washington she can't imagine how painful it is for them all to be in the same place as one another.

As mates they are always able to feel each other through the bond, but proximity breeds potency. This is why it took such a long time for each of them to be able to separate from each other, as is the case with all vampiric mates. The dilution of their mates' emotions was extremely disconcerting and caused their beasts to panic. It took a lot of careful experimentation over many years to acclimate their beasts into being able to maintain large distances away from each other.

“Minn sannleikur you need not worry about me this heavily nor worry about me having reservations about desiring your company. If this situation becomes too much you all will be the first to know.”

She can hear them all release a sigh of relief. The tightening in her chest eases a bit and she can feel their anxiety easing off. More shuffling is heard over the phone.

“Rosie I don’t know if I can make it another month without seeing you, holding you, touching you. We need you láska.”

Rosalie closes her eyes at the thought of their hands tracing her skin once again.

“Rina you all have no idea how torturous these decades have been, but these past few weeks have made the past forty-nine years seem mildly bearable. I ache for you all terribly.”

She can’t be sure, but Rosalie swears she can hear Kate whimper a bit in the background.

“Rose, would you be amenable to us arriving in two weeks instead of four?”

Is that even a question?

“Please.” She whimpers.

They all inhale sharply on the other side of the line and gather around the phone.

“Rose you know what you do to us when you whimper so beautifully, don't you miláčik?”

Rosalie smirks.

Obviosuly. That’s why I do it.

“No Tan, tell me.”

She can hear them purr at her brattiness, but before Tanya can say anything else the bell rings signaling the end of lunch.

“Fuck. I have to go.” The remorse in her voice is clear to them all and she can hear Kate and Irina cursing under their breaths.

“You have shop class right? I’m sure you’re excited about that.” She can tell Tanya is trying to draw out the time they have to speak as long as possible, and she has no arguments about it.

“Yes, very excited. We’re currently reconstructing the engine of a 1986 Harley Davidson.”

There’s a twinge in her stomach and a pause on the other line before Irina cuts in.

“We love you, Rosie. We’re coming to the cabin two Saturdays from now.”

“I can’t wait. I love you elskurnar mínar. I will call you all as soon as I can.”

“We love you too láska!” Kate says enthusiastically.

Rose smiles sadly as she realizes she truly does have to hang up now. "I love you all, we’ll talk soon.” And she hangs up before she skips class altogether to chase down the path their phone call was heading.

She loves talking to her girls and having heard their voices has made a shitty confusing day much brighter. The only issue was Tanya’s mild interrogation, but she feels she handled it expertly.

Rosalie begins walking back towards and school and begins mentally preparing herself to be in close proximity to Isabella Swan once again.

It’s quiet in the Denali house once Rosalie hangs up. Due to their close proximity, Irina and Kate can feel Tanya’s swirling emotions a lot sharper than Rosalie would be able to. If she could, they know their other lover would have skipped out on the rest of the day to calm their coven leader down.

The mix of shock, confusion, anger, sadness, and suspicion is making Irina and Kate feel nauseous even though they can’t throw up. It’s been about five minutes since Rosalie ended their call and Tanya has not moved since. She’s standing in the middle of the living room, glaring at the phone, with her eyebrows furrowed and body tense. Even Carmen and Eleazar are nervous as they can feel the tension in the air.

They came downstairs to ask how Rose was doing but stopped when they saw Tanya’s state and the worry on the faces of Irina and Kate.

Everyone is shocked it didn’t happen sooner, but Kate finally breaks the silence.

“Tatíana? Moja láska, you're scaring us a bit. What’s wrong?”

The pure worry in Kate’s voice seems to snap Tanya out of her trance. Her gaze slowly lifts and locks on her two mates.

Her mouth opens and closes as if she’s trying to find the words before she just blurts out, “Rosalie lied to me.”

Everyone in the room stands up straighter as they process the statement.

Kate and Irina have no idea what to do or say. The statement doesn’t even make any sense.

“She lied? Rosalie Denali lied to you? The same one that said lying to you was about as successful as trying to make Edward Cullen admit we’re not soulless demons doomed to spend eternity is Hel?” Kate was simply dumbfounded.

Tanya simply nodded with her jaw clenched.

It was long ago established as a rule in their relationship that they wouldn’t lie to each other unless absolutely necessary, but especially to Tanya. Her gift of lie detection makes it impossible and she made it clear that when anyone, especially her mates, lies to her it feels like an insult to her intelligence.

Irina attempts to calm Tanya’s obvious anguish, “Maybe she wasn’t fully aware that she was lying Tan. You know that we sometimes believe something to be the truth when in our subconscious mind it truly isn’t. Your gift is powerful and can pick up on the tiniest hints of deception. I don’t think Rose would have tried to deceive you like this when we all know how much pain it causes you.”

Tanya’s shoulders lose some of their tension, however, the concoction of emotions still flows through their bond. It’s not strong enough for Rose to feel it all the way in Forks, but it’s still very strong.

Kate finally asks what the rest of the coven was wondering as well, “What exactly did she say that was a lie?”

“When she said she was excited to go back to shop class, but I was getting hints of deception when she first picked up and I asked her what was causing her so much anxiety. She is not managing okay, in fact it's quite the opposite.”

The house was quiet as they contemplated what that could mean.

Carmen spoke up for the first time from her place cuddled up to Eleazar on the couch, “What parts of her initial hints of deception were suspicious?”

“The statement that a girl was causing issues with her control felt like a half-truth like she was leaving something out, but the fact that she was an annoyance was definitely true.”

“So we can assume that it may not be her close proximity to all the students causing her true issues like we initially assumed?” Eleazar asked.

“And that whatever issues this girl is creating may be what is making her dread attending her favorite class because we know none of the Cullens share it with her,” Irina added thoughtfully.

Tanya continued, “Whoever this girl she speaks of is definitely causing her issues, but not the type she wanted us to perceive as she left her to answer vague enough hoping we would draw our own conclusions. It’s unlikely we have a singer of any type on our hands as she would have outright told us if it was so. She is struggling with control around this girl, but she is omitting what type of control it is specifically on purpose.”

And Kate put the final pieces together, “This girl has to be in her shop class, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

The three blondes grimace.

Irina asks with a growl lacing the words, “What is this child doing to Rose?”

Tanya shakes her head and walks over to wrap her arms around Irina’s waist.

“I don’t know moja láska, but we’re going to find out. We’re heading to Forks in a week and Rose is not to know. If she was willing to lie then she will hide whatever is troubling her if she has advanced notice of our arrival.”

Kate and Irina nod their agreement. Irina leans back into Tanya’s embrace while the strawberry blonde coven leader hooks her chin on Irina’s shoulder. Kate stands up and wraps her arms around them both. They bask in the revelations and questions they still have and will have for another week. Their concerns are not being aided by the fact that their beasts' hunger has begun to rise again.

As much as Rosalie hates surprises the three blondes can't find it in themselves to feel too bad about this one they have planned.

The eighty-five minutes Isabella spends in her Motorcycle Repair class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is usually spent one of two ways.

Admiring Rosalie Hale as she expertly takes apart an engine, repairs an engine, or answers any questions asked of her with the expertise of someone who has been working on motorcycles for decades.

Days like that are also spent discreetly shifting on her stool in an attempt to relieve the ache between her thighs.

Other days are spent planning her next kill. She calculates the distance from her last crime, the distance from the next area she desires to visit, and the distance from the said area to Forks to evade suspicion. She makes sure no one knows exactly when she leaves or where she is going. She also decides which medium she would like to use and how much or how little cleanup would be required. Her mind conjures up phantom aches in her hands and arms, the same as when she crushes someone's windpipe or she revels in the freedom and joy that comes with bludgeoning someone to death. All of these things and more go into a successful hunt.

Today just so happens to be a mix of both.

Isabella spends the majority of the class shifting her attention between the blonde sitting next to her and the swirling plans coming together in her head. It seems that after their conversation in the parking lot and Isabella's declaration, Rosalie has made it her mission to shut the brunette out as much as possible as Isabella has been left with a quite delicious view of the blonde's back. Her blouse is stretched tightly and highlights the exquisite musculature underneath. The glimpse of Rosalie's side profile that Isabella does catch are gifts she thanks the woman for graciously in her head. She catalogs the intensity and passions with which Rosalie pays attention to their teacher and determines that a quick way to her heart is through motor vehicles.

Girlfriends don't matter when a hot brunette has a rare vintage muscle car collection to use to her advantage.

The time not spent thinking of her plans to woo her shop partner is taken with thoughts of her short time frame and insatiable desire for a kill making a carefully planned outing nearly impossible. It leaves her with very few options especially since Jessica is aware she has plans. She needs to do something that won't require a lot of time or a dry cleaning visit. Additionally, it can't attract too much attention which leaves her with only one good option.

Port Angeles' homeless population. She'll be able to find someone there with very few issues.

However, Isabella knows this quick little killing will not be enough to fully satiate her desires this time around. It's been too long and her annoyances with her current situation are making it worse. Not only does she have to spend lunch surrounded by bottle blonde bimbos one and two, but the natural blonde of her dreams is playing hard to get.

I do enjoy the chase though.

With this new perspective acknowledged Isabella also begins making plans for her next big project. She'll be making a very nice trip hours away from Forks to find a victim next weekend.

It'll be nice to see what beautiful screams and pleas she'll be able to pull forth in her cabin once again.

Chapter Text

There is tension in the air of Port Angeles, Washington. While they may not live in the wild, human beings know when they are being watched by a predator. It is their natural instincts protecting them from dangerous situations. Tonight, the instincts of everyone in Port Angeles were telling them that something was wrong.

After deciding she could wait no longer during lunch today, Isabella has finally ventured out of Forks in search of her next victim. She feels comfortable again after Oliver’s case went cold at the beginning of the week. A murderer she may be, but Isabella would be damned if she was ever thought of as sloppy. She takes into account every single factor of her crimes before committing them. Without her extreme caution and attention to detail, she would have never made it out of Phoenix, not after what happened in April.

Port Angeles is a gorgeous place to visit. The salt in the air reminds you that you're in a beach town. It’s a tight-knit community where everyone knows everyone. This is why Isabella has been sticking to the backstreets and alleyways.

Once you get past the main square where boutiques and family-owned restaurants line the streets is where you enter Port Angeles’s seedier area. This is where the homeless drunkards congregate and drug deals often occur.

Tonight, Isabella made it virtually impossible for herself to be easily recognized by her schoolmates should the situation somehow arise. She switched out her typical shirt, waistcoat, and tie for a black hoodie and black jeans. Her hair that is usually slicked back has been replaced with a rat's nest messily falling over her face, obscuring her features from view. The confident gait she usually walks with has been switched out for a quick pace with short strides. Her shoulders are drawn inward to make herself look smaller as she intends to attract a victim who enjoys preying on women they view as weak and easy targets. Her easily identifiable vintage car sits safely at home and she instead drove here a black 2002 Honda Accord.

It isn’t until she’s weaving between buildings in the warehouse district that she finally hears a single set of footsteps attempting to match her own. The owner of said footsteps can’t seem to pick up their feet as the shuffling and stumbles clearly point to intoxication.

A few turns back she passed by a homeless man clearly attempting to drink away his sorrows. He had catcalled her though the slurring of his words left a lot to be desired. At that moment she decided his sorrows would be a thing of the past after tonight. To make him believe she was afraid she shifted her eyes in his direction before stepping to the other side of the alley and walking a bit faster. Not long after that, she heard the man get up and begin his pursuit. She's sure if he could've seen the smirk on her lips he would have reconsidered. It was the smile of a spider who had finally caught a fly in its web.

She grips the switchblade in her hoodie pocket a little bit tighter as she quickly glances over her shoulder before turning left down another alleyway. Isabella can hear the drunken man’s steps get a little quicker and she does the same. When he turns the corner he starts to sprint and she follows his lead, allowing him to believe he had the upper hand. Broken bottles and uneven pavement crunch under her feet. Of course, she knows she can't outrun him, she just has to lead him right where she wants him.

As the chase picks up speed they move deeper into the warehouse district. No one would be out here at this time of night, no one would be able to hear his desperate cries for help. She chose this area for her hunt after determining that there are no security cameras in place yet.

“Come on sweetheart I juss wanna have some fun!” His slurred words make him sound like the snake he is. His footsteps were getting closer, but Isabella has him right where she wants him.

She made one more right turn before running down the dead end and “accidentally” tripping. The man came around the corner not long after and smiled when he realized she was trapped. She feels no fear as this likely six-foot-tall man smiles at her apparent misfortune, only excitement. Her desire to see him suffer is like a roaring fire within her begging to be released.

A fence is blocking them from the dock behind them. The unruly ocean is the only witness to this spectacle. His breathing is heavy as he staggers toward her.

“Ya know it's not nice to-to run when someone wans to talk wit you.” Isabella scrambles back on the ground and pushes her back up against the fence. She allows the man to get closer and she breathes faster to mimic a panic. She wants him to believe he's won, to believe she’s helpless before she rips it away from him in a few quick seconds.

“Don't worry darlin-” he hiccups and it takes every shred of her control not to gag, “-I’ll make this enjoyable for both of us.”

Oh yes I will definitely be enjoying something tonight.

He finally stumbles in front of her and Isabella sees her chance. She reaches into her hoodie pocket for her switchblade and pulls him forward by the front of his shirt. The action is too fast for the man’s inebriated brain to comprehend. He falls on top of her, and on top of her knife.

The man wheezes when he feels the blade pierces his stomach, but she allows him no relief as she pushes him off her body and removes it from him. Isabella straddles the man over his wounded stomach with a smile on her face as she revels in the horror of his.

She leans in close and whispers sensually in his ear, “Oh come on now darlin' I thought we were supposed to have some fun.”

He begins to struggle, but Isabella is quicker and places the knife against his jugular vein. In his haste to escape, he knicks himself and she watches with fascination as the trail of blood runs down his neck.

From where she is positioned, she can feel the blood pouring out of his stomach under her legs and it brings her a twisted sense of satisfaction.

“Y-you fuckin bitch!”

Isabella’s smile is wiped from her face and she backhands the drunkard across his face.

“Are you upset? Feel powerless as you writhe under me? This is how you wanted me to feel, yes? I’m simply showing you that you can’t take everything you want.” The words are cold, but her delivery of them is warm. She twists his mind and leads him into a false sense of security. That is until she shallowly digs the knife into his neck and drags it from one end to the other. A threatening gesture showing her upper hand. He lets out a choked screech, trying not to scream in case it brings his death any closer.

“Fuck, I want to carve you a new smile. I want to watch as the light leaves your eyes. Gods above, I can’t wait for you to squirm and kick, but ultimately realize you don’t stand a chance. That is my idea of fun.”

His eyes wide are as wide as saucers and she begins to chuckle. The sound sends shivers down his spine. “What, you don’t like my ideas? Oh, baby I already had this whole night planned out though. Can’t you just indulge me?” She gives him a fake pout.

She takes the knife away from his neck and trails the point down his body until it rests on his stomach once again. When he tries to sit up in an attempt to fight back she simply pushes a little harder. He quickly becomes aware that he can’t move without risking her ending her little game.

“Mmm you figured it out. Tonight, you’re going to learn what it feels like to have no options. To have to lay there while someone defiles you against your will. Something I'm sure you’ve done to many women. What you had planned to do to me tonight.”

The man opens and closes his mouth like an idiot trying to find any words that could get him out of this situation. Isabella simply brings the blade back up and digs into the already open cut across his neck. She pushes it deeper and the victim screams as she drags it across the same line a second time. The cut across his neck is much deeper now and blood steadily flows down his chest like a waterfall. He should bleed out within the next few minutes and he knows he has no chance of escaping tonight.

She covers his mouth with her other hand, “Shhh shh don’t make any noise. I hate hearing your pathetic cries. This could’ve been me you know. I could be here screaming, but would you have stopped?”

The man looks into her eyes with tears forming in his, but when he meets her gaze it contains a bone-chilling emptiness. He feels like he’s staring into a black hole, an empty void that sucks the life out of everything within its orbit. The man can feel himself getting weaker and weaker as blood flows out of his neck and abdomen.

“Pl-please. Please let me go.” The words are choked and wet as blood crawls its way up his throat.

Isabella hums for a second as if she is legitimately considering his request. She sits back on her heels and keeps her eyes locked on his.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

She swings her arm back behind her head and swiftly plunges the blade into his stomach a second time. He coughs and blood gurgles in the back of his throat. Isabella removes the blade and watches more blood flow from the man as it pools under their bodies. A small grin comes across her face as she watches him struggle in his final moments.

“So beautiful.” She looks at his face again. The blood loss is taking effect and his eyes are fluttering shut.

He doesn't have much time left, but she has parting words for his last few seconds of consciousness.

“No one is around to save you. These docks have been abandoned for years and no one patrols them any longer. You won't be discovered until long after you have decomposed. You’re all alone and helpless, but I thank you. I truly did have fun tonight.”

Finally, she stands up and watches as the man chokes on his own blood. He weakly clutches at the still flowing gash on his neck in a pathetic attempt to keep the blood inside for just a little bit longer. She searches his pockets for any forms of identification when he grabs her wrist as if to beg for her help. His grip that was tight is quickly weakening, but not before he could dig his nails into her arm. He leaves behind a bleeding scratch before she can pry his hand away.

After his final attempt for his life, she can see as the fight leaves his body. She crouches down and leans over his body to stare into his eyes. They’re looking off into the distance without truly seeing. The sounds of his shallow, gargling, breaths and the crashing waves make a gorgeous symphony. She stays until his lungs no longer inflate and his eyes focus no more. In a final "fuck you" statement she wipes the blood off her switchblade on her victim's shirt.

Slowly, she returns to her full height and looks down at her blood-covered clothes. Luckily, the dark color of the clothing makes it nearly impossible to see the stains. The smell however is not as easily disguised.

“Shit.”

I think I might have to burn these. There's no way I’m taking these to a laundromat.

The only downside to her cabin is the lack of a washer and dryer.

Faintly, Isabella could have sworn she heard shuffling on the roof of the warehouse to her right, but she dismisses it quickly.

“Fucking seagulls.”

With one last look back at the body of the man she killed Isabella smiles cheekily and waves before beginning the long walk back to her car.

Tonight she made a predator understand what it feels like to be prey.

What the fuck.

Rosalie watches from the shadows as Isabella Swan casually strolls away from the man she brutally murdered. The warehouse rooftop provided her with a perfect vantage point to witness the crime. She could’ve sworn Isabella heard when her shoe slipped on the moisture coating the metal roofing and she held her breath unnecessarily until the human walked away.

Earlier in the night, Rosalie had headed into Port Angeles to check a possible lead on a part she needs for her next project. She is completely rebuilding a 1969 Boss 429 Mustang and was hoping this contact had the tie rod end she’s been struggling to hunt down. She intended to meet with the man and then return to the Cullen estate for a hunt. Her control has been on thin ice today and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. However, as she was driving through Port Angeles she caught a faint trail of the unique scent she associates with Isabella Swan.

She was going to leave it alone until she heard staggering footsteps following the girl in question. Usually, she refuses to insert herself into the lives of humans unless absolutely necessary, but something screamed at her to ensure the girl was safe.

Rosalie was immensely glad she made the choice as she hopped from roof to roof in the depths of the warehouse district watching a drunk man much larger than Isabella chase her down. An Isabella Swan that Rosalie noticed looked nothing like the one that promised to court her earlier that day. It was obvious what the stumbling imbecile had on his mind and Rosalie refused to allow that to happen to Isabella. A vicious growl was drawn from her chest when she watched the man approach the girl with nowhere to run, but it was drowned out by the crashing of the waves and their feet pounding against the concrete.

Just as the blonde was preparing to attack the drunken man intending to violate the girl her beast had deemed worthy of her protection, she was frozen solid. Rosalie watched with unblinking eyes as the facade of a scared teenage girl melted into a terrifyingly blank yet predatory smile.

She watched as Isabella grabbed the man and brought him forward onto her switchblade. With rapt attention, she witnessed the girl straddling the man and mercilessly torturing him. She watched as she made the man feel helpless just as Rosalie is sure the man has made countless women feel throughout his life. The smell of blood made permanent residence in her nose, but being over a thousand years old has left her plenty of time to perfect her control. It allowed her to watch the scene in front of her with a shock that rendered her immobile. This human she believed to be a mysterious nuisance has turned out to have a secret much larger and much darker than Rosalie could even begin to process.

Rosalie watched as Isabella taunted the man with his helplessness. She witnessed the soul exiting the man’s body.

She watched all of this and somehow she could not find it in herself to feel bad. Her experience with men believing they have a right to a woman’s body has left her with an insurmountable amount of resentment. A strange feeling of pride even bubbles up in her chest as she watches Isabella Swan walk away. The thought of reporting the girl never even crosses her mind; all she can think about is protecting the fiery killer from those who would dare try to harm her.

Once Isabella is out of sight and long gone, Rosalie jumps down and lands next to the man. She is aware that this section of the dock has long been abandoned, but one can never be too careful.

Later, as Rosalie heads back towards Cullen's property she has many things on her mind.

At some point, I will have to explain this to Tanya, Irina, and Kate. There’s no way I will be able to hide this much longer, especially now that I have involved myself in a human's criminal activity. Fuck, what the hell was I thinking? Who is Isabella Swan and what is she doing to me? Suddenly I’m an accomplice to murder and I don’t even feel bad about it. How am I going to explain this human blood on my clothes to the imbeciles I’m heading back to face? Why am I even worrying? My status as a Princess prevents the Cullens from having any authority over my actions.

As these thoughts and more flow through Rosalie’s head an image constantly swirls throughout her mind. She replays the moment she threw the body of Isabella’s victim off the edge of the abandoned dock, his leg tied to a heavy rock by a chain she found lying about the desolate area. There is no chance of the man being found any time soon and even if he is, all evidence of Isabella’s actions will have long ago decomposed.

I protected her tonight by becoming an accomplice to murder. I protected her tonight and I will do it again if required. No one will ever hurt her.

Rosalie deeply sighs. It's the sound of resignation and defeat. She knows she can no longer ignore what has been staring her directly in the face since she first made eye contact with Isabella Swan.

I really need to get my other mates down here.

Chapter Text

Across the ocean and six hours ahead, three women sit in silent contemplation. The air around them vibrates as their power encompasses the throne room in its entirety. To the guards around them, the air feels thicker. It’s as if gravity grows stronger in their presence and the atmosphere physically weighs them down. The mistresses are a force to be reckoned with, especially when it comes to their children.

“We have not heard from Rosalie in weeks.” The brunette in the middle states. Despite the deadpan delivery her concern and worry shine through like a beacon in dense fog.

“You are well aware she has been known to only call when absolutely necessary.” Another brunette with hair the color of a void responds from the throne the furthest to the right. Her voice is different, it’s warmer and smooth as the finest fabrics. The two women lock eyes and a silent communication passes between them as the brunette in the middle grabs the other’s wrist, ‘We will call Tanya after court concludes,’. They both nod and return to their previous positions.

Meanwhile, a blond sits on the throne to the left of the other two. To an outsider, her face is completely impassive. Her aura is domineering and borders on violence as if she is constantly waiting for a fight. A beast lays chained within her that thrashes and growls at nearly everyone in its view. In her eyes, emotions swirl like a constant storm, she has no idea how to control.

Athenaodra is an enigma to everyone, including her family in some ways. They all know she loves them with everything she has, but she often struggles to portray it. She keeps her distance in cases where emotions are at the epicenter, which is something her mates know and respect. That doesn’t mean she doesn't worry.

Hearing that Rosalie hasn’t checked in recent weeks causes anxiety to grow in the pit of her stomach. It eats at her and serves to fuel the always-present feelings of inadequacy, loneliness, and worry.

Worry about the health of her children and her mates.

Inadequacy because how could she of all people deserve these two angelic women and their four beautiful daughters?

Loneliness because even though she sees their children as her own in every way possible, the gods still deemed her unworthy of a parental bond of her own.

She would never admit it out loud, but she sometimes feels like a third wheel in her own family. When their daughters visit she waits patiently to the side watching hugs, kisses, and catching up occur between her wives and their children before it eventually becomes her turn. She knows she has no right to feel this way. The parental bond is not to be questioned, but nevertheless, no matter how much she loves her family she can’t help but feel isolated.

However, living for over three millennia with her foundational years resulted in an aggressive lesson that masking her emotions are the only way to survive. She hides parts of herself that she fears will result in betrayal, retaliation, disappointment, or really any negative emotion her mind can possibly conjure.

When she was still human she lived with people she would never consider her parents. She was taught that emotions make you weak and that expressing yourself only results in pain and misery and she channeled that energy into violence.

Athenodora took the rage and agony of her human life and turned it into battle prowess. As a young girl, she would beg the blacksmiths in her village to provide her with their discarded blades for her to train with. For hours, she would be in the fields practicing her footwork and learning to handle a blade. She stole abandoned bows and arrows from their hunters to practice with long-range weaponry as well.

As she matured, the beatings, or “lessons” as they called them, got worse, and talks of selling her to the highest bidder only added fuel to her fire. She was to be used as a bargaining chip for her parents to keep their farm. Athenodora was never seen as a human being in the eyes of the ones who created her, simply as cattle. And thus, when the night came that her parents announced they had found a buyer she saw red. She does not remember much except that she left their hut with blood, flesh, and brain matter all over her body with her practice blade clutched tightly in her hand.

After killing those beasts she turned to the elements. There was nowhere else for her to go, she had never had a home, only a prison, and so she escaped into the woodlands. Years of training left her proficient enough to survive on her own. She killed and skinned any animal she came across, often for food and clothing, other times for entertainment. The years bled together as she moved from village to village stealing any food when she could and avoiding detection. She was completely and utterly alone and feeling bad for herself would leave her vulnerable to other predators. Her life went on like that until one fateful night when she ran into a wall in an attempt to escape capture. She had become too confident in her abilities regarding covert theft and therefore sloppy which resulted in a knocked-over crate and angry stall owners asking for her head.

She looked up at the wall from her place on the ground and met the bright red eyes of an extremely attractive man. His aura was mysterious, and his hair was as bright as the sun. In him, she could sense hatred for humanity and a craving for violence that nearly matched her own. He told her that she was his and not long after the burning and screaming began.

Caius was never physically violent, at least towards her, but it was his mental manipulations that did the most damage. Even before encountering Aro and that parasite Chelsea, Caius knew how to prey on her vulnerabilities and bolster the darkest parts of her personality. He would preach about how she belonged to him and that they were made for each other. Together, they would traverse from country to country each week and devour whoever they wished. He would allow her to torture men and women that reminded her of her parents in increasingly disturbing ways. She would listen to their screams and pleads for mercy for hours–days even– before she finally drained them dry. All the while, she finally felt as if she belonged with someone. It took her far too long to realize that Caius did not believe she belonged with him, but that she was his belonging.

The moment Athenadora first stepped through the doors of the Volturi castle, she could feel a tug in her chest pulling her to something held within its walls. It took a sporadic trip to the garden fifty years after becoming a Queen to finally run into Didyme. As soon as she locked eyes with the woman she felt a missing piece of her soul snap into place for the first time. Caius had become lax in his attempts of controlling what she did and where she went. She desired a little bit of freedom and in her exploration, she found the most beautiful of liberties. Talking to Didyme was like a breath of fresh air. The woman was never condescending nor made Athenodora feel small when she did not know something as Caius often did. Libraries were never one of her favorite places after all.

She felt as if this, being at Didyme‘s side, was where she was meant to be. Sadly, their meetings in the garden were never consistent and the years passed without their knowledge, but the tug in her chest always told her when she would be able to escape to their little refuge.

After another century, she finally ran into Sulpicia. Aro held control over her love with an iron fist. With her gift being as similar to Aro’s as it was, the cretin was keen on keeping her as close to him as possible. The only reason they met was because of Athenodora’s stubborn nature. She had grown tired of Caius keeping her from political dealings. Time and time again she had proven her physical and mental aptitude when it came to battle proceedings. She believed her gift would be especially useful during this time as they were in the middle of a war with the Romanians. Her talent for strategy was unmatched, but Caius refused to allow a woman, especially his wife, in the war room and so she stayed away. That is until one day when she burst through the doors unannounced, prepared to vehemently demand that she be listened to.

The words, however, died on her tongue when her eyes darted towards a brunette standing behind Aro. Their connection did not feel the same as with Didyme. With Didyme, Athenodora felt a peace she had never known before. She felt as if the sun could never weaken her and she never had to worry about anything ever again. Contrarily, with Sulpicia it was fiery and passionate. Both their eyes darkened immediately and at the time, unbeknownst to them, it was only because of Chelsea’s gift that they didn’t claim each other right then and there. Sulpicia brought out the best, and sometimes the worst in her. She never treated her as less than and pushed her to do her best, but sometimes that manifested in expecting her to be a Queen and partner she had no idea how to be.

After her storm in and their subsequent first meeting, Caius wasted no time in berating her and demanding she leave the room, but Aro stopped him. She wouldn’t spit on the man if he was on fire, but she will forever be grateful for allowing her to be a fly on the wall in those meetings.

As the war continued and years turned over Sulpicia, Didyme, and herself formed a bond nearly entirely in silence. While their husbands ignored their presence they would all exchange heated glances from their spots around the room. Sulpicia and Diyme attempted to make her laugh and lose her stoic composure or they would all roll their eyes when one of the men said something particularly idiotic. Her emotions were rarely outwardly projected, but she fell more and more in love with the two of them as time went by without the awareness that it was happening.

Eventually, Sulpicia had had enough and demanded Aro allow them all to spend time with each other. She played up to his vicious misogyny and claimed that she desired other women she could converse with. There was no one else in the castle with whom she could talk about her feminine issues, especially the issues of a Queen. The war room meetings were much too hard for her to understand and she craved female companionship. It took her a long while to wheedle him down, but eventually, they were allotted five hours out of every day to spend with each other however they wished.

Their lack of understanding and their ignorance of the manipulation of their bond helped confuse Aro’s gift. They had no knowledge of the true motivations behind their desires, which kept the thought reader from being suspicious. At the time, they simply desired the presence of each other, they had no idea why that was.

Those five hours a day was all it took for their bond to fully manifest. She was already in love with her mates, but that time only made their bond stronger. Didyme was soft and gentle, but confident and powerful like the tides of the ocean. Sulpicia was a fire that would scorch the earth for the ones she loved. It was impossible for Athenadora not to love them. Her beast fell in love with them too and she declared to herself that she would do anything, and she means anything, if they asked it of her.

As the mate bond grew in strength and it fought against Chelsea’s brainwashing Athenodora could feel her beast’s demand for carnage rising. She pieced together the puzzle a millennium in the making and she was utterly incensed. How dare she be kept from her mates for nearly a thousand years? How dare these men try to keep her under their thumbs? How dare they do this to her mates?

She would not let it stand.

With the king’s horrible mistreatment of many of the guards, it did not take much convincing to establish an uprising. The three women claimed the throne and Athenodora smiled and laughed as she dropped the torch into the fire with the King’s remains. The remains that she personally tore apart herself. They made sure to make a spectacle of the bitch who manipulated them for so long as the first decree of their reign.

Without Aro, Marcus, and Caius around they were allowed to love each other freely. However, Athenodra struggled immensely to allow them in any further than she already had. She eventually found out it had taken her over five hundred years for them to finally end up together. Both Sulpicia and Didyme knew how difficult it was for her to open up in the first place and how big of a step it was for her to admit her love for them. She would kill anyone for them if they needed it, she would die for them and they could feel it through their bond. Athenodora rarely spoke unless spoken to and even more rarely expressed her emotions through her facial expressions, but she always made sure that they knew. She purposely pushed her feelings of love, devotion, passion, protection, and obsession through their bond as her own form of communication, and her wives long ago established that they loved it. They know she loves them with every bit of her heart.

Then seven hundred years ago, the three women learned of four sisters leaving hundreds if not thousands of bodies behind them combined. She had vaguely remembered them from the burning of their maker and the woman’s demonic immortal child. Their reckless actions were drawing attention to their kind and the Volturi simply could not allow it to continue without punishment.

Lo and behold those rule breakers were her mates’ bond children. Thus, she suddenly became a mother.

From the beginning, she knew what to expect when it came to their daughters. They view her as their mother as well, but they will always be closer to their bond mothers than they will be to her.

Since she doesn't have the bond that her wives have with their girls, Athenadora has spoiled them all rotten to show her affection. Actions, whether loving or destructive, have always been her easiest form of communication. She has managed to develop a deeper bond with all four of them in recent years. She taught Kate and Rosalie all she knows in regards to battle that does not stem from her gift and greatly enjoys training with them. She takes walks with Tanya and Irina and has taught them the art of meditation. Irina and Tanya use it as a way to decompress especially since Rose and Kate tend to be a significant source of stress. Athenodora herself uses it as a tool to keep her beast at bay. It aids in keeping her tethered to the remaining bits of her humanity in order to prevent the bloodlust-fueled benders she craves. Every so often her control slips and it usually has something to do with her mates or their girls getting hurt.

Athenodora loves her family, but she can’t help but feel something is missing. She feels lonely as if there is a little piece of her soul that is waiting to be filled. All she wants is a daughter that enjoys the slaughter as much as she does. Rosalie and Kate are warriors, but find little joy in torture and carnal bloodlust. They can’t see the beauty in the chaos and pain. None of her family can truly understand her desires because they do not understand the pain and misery that led to her feeling this way. She longs for someone that understands her and loves her not despite her flaws but because of them. However, after three thousand years she is beginning to believe that the feeling of completeness will never come.

“I can feel Rosalie’s restlessness. Something is wrong.” Sulpicia suddenly decreed taking Athenodora out of her head.

“I can feel similar emotions through my bond with Tanya.” To anyone else, Didyme would sound as composed as ever, but Athenodora can sense the worry wrapped around her words.

“I greatly despise our inability to determine anything more concrete. This distance is such a hindrance.”

The worry and fear radiating through their bond make Athenodora physically ache with the desire to soothe them, but she knows only their daughters being in their arms will do that. At times she fears that she is not enough, that she is too broken to be worthy of them. They deserve someone who can tell these two goddesses with words that they love them. She thinks that constantly, but then she remembers that feeling that way is not fair. She shouldn’t pile her feelings of inadequacy on top of their worry. Those feelings are pushed down into the depths of her heart quickly enough that if they are felt through their bond, it passes too fast for her mates to truly notice anything is wrong.

“I propose we allow them another week of this before we check-in. No matter how long it has been, you know they believe that we smother them. If at any time you two feel something that warrants a call we do so.” She contributed a little in hopes that it would help ease their anxiety and admittedly ease her own. Having a plan of attack for all situations helps her feel more in control. Her gift, the gift of enhanced battle prowess and the perfect strategist, is the most valuable part of her person, and as such she uses it often as both a defensive and offensive tool.

In return for her suggestion, she gets a pensive look from Sulpicia and a warm smile from Didyme.

“I think that is a lovely idea darling. Picia? What do you think of this solution?” The look in Sulpicia’s eyes was still reluctant, but she eventually nodded in consent.

“Very well. A week from now, my loves.”

Athenadora prays for her daughters as well as her mates that nothing untoward has happened to their girls. She can feel her beast ramming itself against the bars of its cage. It longs to be free and to tear the world limb from limb as an offering at the altar for the ones she loves. Just as it longs to find the missing piece that will make her whole.

Chapter Text

The days following Isabella’s outing and Rosalie’s subsequent discoveries are fraught with tension for the blonde. On Monday, Rosalie took the approach of once again completely ignoring Isabella’s presence. Every attempt at conversation was shut down with a stony silence even the confident girl found off-putting. Admittedly, the lack of communication made the work on their project slow and poorly executed which simply helped irk Rosalie further. Additionally, there has been utter radio silence from her family in Denali which has only made her mood even more hellish. More than once did a Cullen, often Edward, find themselves on the feared end of her rage.

There was a war raging inside of her mind that made it difficult to focus on anything else. How does one approach their lost mate? A mate that she and her loves were unaware they even needed to find. What does she tell Tan, Kate, and Rina? No matter how deep her denial, they all know that she had her suspicions about Isabella from the beginning. They will struggle to accept that she kept this from them for so long. Then there’s the fact that Isabella is apparently a sadistic murderer that paints concrete red with the suffering of her victims. Yes, the girl is obsessive and pushy with her advances, which Rosalie is now unsure if can be attributed to their bond or the fact that the girl is obviously mentally unwell, but she never imagined the girl could go that far.

Rosalie herself is a killer–a warrior– with the blood of thousands on her hands, but she never found much joy in the slaughter outside the battlefield, which was more suited to the tastes of her mother Athenadora. Even more, so Rosalie is struggling to accept the part she played in the events. She helped hide a body to remove all possible traces of Isabella’s presence. When she left the Cullen’s that night she had no plans of becoming an accomplice to murder. However, it is the fact that she would do it again in a heartbeat that she is struggling with the most.

It was many years ago when she and her mates ended what humans now refer to as the era of the succubi. The lives of humans were disposable and unimportant in the face of their grief over the death of their maker. As time passed and word began to spread, they were summoned to Volterra when a case was brought forth regarding their actions. The only thing that kept them alive that day was the familial bond all four of the blondes miraculously have with one of the queens.

Didyme was very insistent upon them ending their reckless actions not only because it was drawing attention to their kind, but because the lives of humans should not be treated with such disrespect. It pains her to admit it, but at one point Rosalie shared a similar viewpoint over her vampiric life as Edward Cullen. She saw her immortality as a curse rather than a blessing and viewed herself as a monster. Her years of self-loathing did nothing to aid the already potent depression that existed within her mate bond. It truly was a toxic cocktail that took many years of therapy and persuasion from her loved ones for her to break through.

She finally could see herself as worthy of love, that yes her vampiric nature meant she was no longer human, but that did not mean she lost her humanity. Didyme helped Rosalie and her mates see the value of human life. Sulpicia helped them learn how to feed from humans without completely draining them. In Volterra, the Volturi are seen as deities to the locals and the residents come through the castle willingly to give up their blood as an offering to the rulers and their kin.

Hundreds of years Rosalie has spent giving thanks to humans for the gift they provide her and her family. She never believed all humans to be perfect, but she vowed to never take the life of one unreasonably ever again. A warrior of her clan finds glory on the battlefield and only there can salvation be found. There is no glory in the slaughter of humans with no ability to fight back.

A promise that she has upheld steadfastly since she declared it, and yet she stood by and watched as Isabella tortured and ended the life of a man. A man who sought to make Isabella a victim herself and thus she struggles to find any sympathy for him. A part of her wishes she could have switched places with her mate for that scum daring to think he could have what was hers. Why should she spare those who desire to harm others? All humans are capable of deplorable acts, including her mate. A couple of months and Isabella Swan is already making her rethink her worldview.

The following day on Tuesday saw a shift in both the blonde and the brunette. The sudden change in climate means the sun will be out for the next three days or so, and vampires despise the sun. Not because it burns them or something else equally ridiculous she’s read in books over the years, but because it drains them. It’s as if the rays drag the energy out of the vampire until it’s a completely useless shell of a creature. As such, vampires avoid the sun to prevent themselves from becoming vulnerable around other supernatural creatures who may pose a threat. The Cullens, and the one Denali, were fraught with tension thinking of how they would be avoiding the sun which just added a whole other level of irritation to everyone present.

After throwing Edward through one of Esme's walls for a third time Rosalie realized she needed to make a change. Being angry and confused was a valid response, but she had no desire for the Cullens to see her in further emotional turmoil. She needs to talk to Isabella and get the ball rolling for this entire clusterfuck of a situation. Not for the first time in these past fifty years is Rosalie considering losing her bet with Kate and leaving Forks and its complications far behind, except now the thought of leaving without a certain brunette in tow causes her heart to clench painfully.

Isabella is her mate, also the mate of the loves of her life, and they have already been separated for far too long. Staying away from the girl was already proving to be impossible. However, that morning Isabella Swan was nowhere to be found. Often, Rosalie caught sight of the girl on the opposite side of the parking lot. Her supposed friends are constantly oblivious to the fact that Isabella had no interest in their conversation despite her stubborn gaze being intensely focused on Rosalie herself. During the days, Rosalie often spotted the girl’s hair disappearing around corners after being caught watching her once again. Despite what Rosalie had witnessed over the weekend, stealth was not the girl’s strong suit.

With this fact in mind, Rosalie paid extra attention to Isabella’s scent but constantly placed the girl in the furthest corners of the school from herself. Her mild drowsiness that is lingering from standing in the sunny parking lot looking for the girl this morning only fuels her irritation. By the time the end of the day comes around and she arrives outside just to lock eyes with Isabella when the girl drives past her while exiting the parking lot. The purr of the engine as her mate speeds down the street and away from her echoes in Rosalie’s ears while the image of Isabella’s sneer is etched into her mind. She never wants that look of anger, pain, and disgust to be directed at her again.

The rest of Tuesday night Rosalie spends in the woods behind the Cullen estate. An air of pain and anxiety surrounds the woman as the shadows around her swirl in response to her emotions. Her gift forms wolves that whimper with hurt and shadowy figures that hide behind trees with uncertainty. Alone in the forest Rosalie allows herself to feel and stew in the pot of feelings that have built up inside her for the past few weeks. The longing for her mates in Alaska is immense, but the thought of their scheduled visit the following weekend eases it slightly. It gives her ample time to figure out how to address the current situation she finds herself in.

She sits in the forest recharging her metaphorical batteries as much as possible until the sun comes up the next morning. This constant draining of her energy has her at her wit's end. The issues regarding Isabella on her mind along with having to look over her shoulder in case one of the Cullens decide to attempt something stupid is probably what leads up to her fuck up Wednesday afternoon.

As much as she believes otherwise, Rosalie Denali is not perfect, and Isabella Swan learns this quickly.

Rosalie is mad at Isabella and she can not for the life of her figure out why. Following Isabella's bold statement of her plans to court the blonde she received a cold shoulder, yes, but it wasn’t stony. It seems as if the comfortable silence Rosalie usually allows to permeate between them has frozen over. On Monday, any attempt at conversation was met with heavy silence and the occasional glare that bordered on violently malicious. The sudden change in demeanor admittedly shook the brunette a bit.

Maybe I came on too strong? If I push her too much perhaps she will completely rebuff my advances.

The thought of the blonde completely rejecting her sent a pang through her chest. The pain was enough to make her grimace and rub over her heart in response.

I can not allow her to escape my grasp. She will be mine even if that means I play the long game.

On Tuesday, Isabella completely avoided Rosalie Hale. She was already inside the school by the time she and the Cullens arrived. When she knew the blonde was getting out of class she made sure she was as far away as possible. In Isabella’s mind distance made the heart grow fonder and she sought to make the blonde absolutely desperate to be in her company once again.

She didn’t calculate that spending time away from the object of her desires would be as painful as it was turning out to be. Her mind played tricks on her replaying the previous day over and over. The blonde ignoring her presence as if she were a nuisance slowly dug its way into her heart.

Perhaps I have already lost her. What have I done to be treated this way?

As the day went on, Isabella avoiding Rosalie went from an attempt to bring the blonde back to her turned in an attempt to protect herself. No one has ever been able to get inside her walls and burrow themselves under her skin like this. Just the thought of the blonde girl not desiring her company makes her feel as though her soul is being pulled apart at the seams.

As the brunette continued to spiral throughout the day people began giving her more and more space. The glare she unconsciously wore spoke of danger that no one, even Mike, wanted a part of.

The dark thoughts swirling around her mind caused the monster deep inside her to thrash and growl. It wanted to see blood, it wanted an escape. These painful thoughts that Isabella believed would never return after fleeing Phoenix were weighing her down.

As she walked down the halls she could hear the voices of her past.

You, Isabella Swan, are nothing. I can't believe I gave birth to such a useless human being.
…
Isabella come on your mom won’t be home for hours I just want to have a little fun.

No Bella, I don’t have the time nor money to allow you to live with me. Your grandmother’s will should be more than enough for you to live off of.

Let’s play a game Isabella.

drip. drip. drip.

The basement stairs always creak. When her body hits them after she is pushed they seem to scream.

Broken zippers.

Her mom’s compliance is in the form of silence. The silence was always so loud...

Drip. Drip.

The dripping of the basement pipes echoes throughout her body and rests in her bones. She feels trapped, just like she was months ago until she took matters into her own hands.

At the end of the day, Isabella was rushing to her car before the bell signaling the end of the day finished ringing. By the time the rest of the student body was exiting the doors, her engines were roaring.

On her way out of the lot, she locked eyes with the original source of her turmoil and her knuckles turned white around her steering wheel.

She tries ignoring all thoughts of one Rosalie Hale for the rest of the day. The drive back from school was therapeutic. Something about the purr of the engine always calmed Isabella down from the brink.

The demons of her past were finally beginning to settle back into their cage, waiting for their next chance to burst free. And that chance came in the form of a phone call from one Charlie Swan.

Standing in the middle of the cabin’s living room was Isabella Swan standing stone still while looking at the phone ring in her hand. Charlie’s name was flashing across the screen as if taunting her. No amount of peace would be achieved today it seemed.

Stiffly, she answers the phone and waits for the man to speak. It was quiet for a while, but his breathing on the other end assures her that he hasn’t hung up.

“Bella.”

Immediately, she bites down on her tongue until the taste of crimson blooms in her mouth.

“I go by Isabella, Charlie. I have told you that every single time we have spoken in the past few months.”

He sighed as if she was being unreasonable.

“Isabella, we haven’t spoken since you came to town.”

“I told you I wanted nothing to do with you. I am emancipated and can completely care for myself.”

“I’m your father. You should have visited me by now.”

Her grip tightens around her phone and the urge to throw it across the room increases tenfold.

“You had a chance to be a father for the twelve years that I needed one and not once did you take it.”

She remembers calls she made begging to come back to Forks and being denied. Visits Charlie made where she would use any time alone with him to try and explain the hell she lived in, but he did not listen. The call Charlie made when her grandmother passed all her money to her, not her mother, where he asked if she would be giving him a cut. No condolences for the loss of the one person who listened to her. No, Charles Swan never once cared about his child, and she has no place in her heart to even fathom fitting him in.

Charlie scoffs, “Your mother made it almost impossible for me to build a relationship with you. You could have called me more often, you know.”

“No, you will not turn this on me. You were the adult. I begged you to take me away from those people and when I tried to explain why you never lis-”

“Do not raise your voice at me!”

“Do NOT cut me off!” At this point, Isabella was fuming. Her control was spiraling and very quickly she could feel her desire for violence rise.

“Listen to me, little girl. This attitude will not contin-.”

“Never call me that again.” Charlie’s breath hitched as he heard the tone of her voice. She felt like malice was flowing from her mouth. The venom wrapped around her words could have dripped on the floor and burned through the wood.

“You will never refer to me as a little girl again. From this point on you stay away from me. Do not test me Charlie Swan or you will learn a very hard lesson. Stay out of my air space.”

And with that, she hung up the phone and threw it at the nearest wall. It shattered on impact in a morbid imitation of Isabella’s headspace. The carefully controlled walls were crumbling around her. She ached and longed to feel the blood of another coat her hands.

No. Do not make a mess you can not fix. Think. Do not act rashly.

Nevertheless, this feeling will not go away. The beast that resides within her was snarling and scratching at the cage it resides in. Nothing will satiate its hunger except for a hunt. And she still has to get through one more day surrounded by her insufferable classmates when all she wants to do is see the world burn to the ground.

Fuck.

That Friday brought tension to Forks High that no one had ever experienced before. The air felt malicious as if every breath anyone took was filled with poisonous gas. Nearly everyone knew where the atmosphere originated from, and it was one Isabella Swan.

In the morning, her car pulled into the lot slowly. It felt predatory like the driver was carefully scoping out every single person in sight. When she finally stepped out of her vehicle she nearly looked the same as every other day, except for her face. It was blank. Not even a single trace of emotion was visible in her features and it chilled everyone to the bone. Never before had they realized how terrifying the girl could be.

She bypassed her usual friend group and walked straight into the school building, granted no one even tried to call her over. The only group that seemed more concerned than intimidated was the apparent Cullen family in the corner. Though everyone had different reasons for their reactions.

“I still can’t read her thoughts. It’s like I know they have to be there, but a void exists where she walks.” Edward chimed in with a sneer on his face.

“Her future is spotty at best. I can get glimpses of snow and blood, but nothing that gives it any weight or context.” Alice said quietly.

Jasper spoke up through gritted teeth, “Her emotions are a lot more potent today. It’s like I'm being blasted with the bloodlust of a newborn and that’s with the weird dampening veil they have over them. She’s hungry for destruction.”

Rosalie was barely paying any attention to what the bastard had to say, she could feel it perfectly on her own. Something had happened. This wasn’t a slow build-up like it had been in the past. Isabella wanted to kill again and it was going to happen very soon.

What the fuck am I going to do?

“Why would you need to do anything?” She spun around so quickly that Edward barely had time to react before her hand was around her throat. For once, everyone was too focused on Isabella to notice them.

“I will only tell you this once more. Stay out of my head Edward Masen or else you and your coven will not like the consequences.” She squeezed her neck until she could feel it begin to crack and the other Cullens began to join his growl of displeasure.

She let go before any noticeable damage could be done and walked straight into the school without looking back. Isabella’s scent was easy to trace as she followed her through the hallways from afar. There was a rigidity in her shoulders that spoke of unmistakable tension.

She’s angry. No, that may be an understatement. I’ve never felt anything like this from her before. God, it’s like her anger is a festered sore that slowly eats away at me from the inside out. An infection spreads through my body until all I can feel is rage.

Rosalie clenches her fist so hard her nails create cracks in her palm. Yes, something is wrong with Isabella and after yesterday she fears she may have been one of the causes. A pit forms in her stomach at the thought.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she knows instinctively that it’s one of her mates, but she has no idea how to explain her feelings right now. God, she can’t even imagine how confused they must be with the echoes of Bella’s feelings mixed in too. What a shit show this is.

Eventually, the bell rang and Rosalie had no choice but to sit through useless lectures, the material which she knows better than the teachers while suffering through Isabella’s emotional hurricane. It wasn’t until lunch came around that Rosalie was truly able to study her mate.

She ensured she got to the cafeteria before Isabella and any of Cullens. With focus, she was easily able to pinpoint the brunette’s strong heartbeat as it traveled through the halls. She barely noticed the Cullens sitting down around her as her eyes were focused on the doors furthest away from their table. As soon as Isabella walked through them the steadily rising noise seemed to cease as every head turned in her direction.

To the humans, she looked the same as this morning; numb, threatening, intimidating, and cold. However, Rosalie could notice the subtle differences in her body language. Her face held a minuscule sneer obvious in the slight uptake of her lip and her walk was stiffer. Obviously, as the day progressed Isabella’s mood only worsened and Rosalie could feel it in her core.

The brunette walked across the cafeteria and completely bypassed Jessica Stanley’s table where she usually resides. Instead, she walked towards a table at the back of the room that was usually unoccupied. She sat down without any food, leaned back in her chair, and focused her eyes on the window facing the parking lot. It felt as if no one wanted to breathe in fear of releasing whatever rage Isabella had built up inside her.

The frigid atmosphere within the cafeteria lasts for a slowly passing fifteen minutes during which Isabella did nothing, but blink. Mike Newton ends up being the brave soul, or sacrificial lamb as Rosalie looks at it, to approach the girl.

The scraping of his chair bounces off the walls and rings in the ears of everyone present. His footsteps as he approached the table were loud in the silence. He walks up behind the girl and reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder when in a move so quick it was nearly invisible to the human eye, she grabbed his wrist and stopped his movements. From the grimace on his face, the grip is painfully tight and Isabella has a look of murderous intent written across her own. She stands up slowly, continuing to grab his hand and twist his arm into an uncomfortable position. Mike had to twist his body to prevent his shoulder from popping out of its socket. She looked down at him, squirming in her grip, with a glare so deadly it was felt among everyone in attendance.

“Do not touch me. Ever.” The words were spoken lowly but were heard by everyone in attendance. They carried a power so profound that no one dared question why she had a reaction so severe.

Isabella twisted his arm further and Rosalie could hear the joint grinding in its socket, begging to be released from the unnatural strain it was under. The tendons were screaming and Mike was crying out in pain, and yet not a single soul moved to aid the boy. Even the vampires were still, very much aware that they were witnessing a predator play with its prey.

The only one immune to the mounting pressure was Rosalie. The only thing she could feel was pride and arousal. How dare the boy think he could touch what was hers? How dare he think he had any right. No, Rosalie felt nothing but smug satisfaction and twisted pleasure watching the child writhe in agony under the torture of her mate.

In a split second, Isabella’s eyes rose from the scene before her and met the blonde’s across the room. Rosalie saw the fire in her eyes that spoke of immense joy and pleasure. A spark that she knows can only be caused by inflicting pain upon those who deserve it. Her arousal grew from there and a smirk bloomed on her lips.

Suddenly, Isabella broke eye contact and released the boy allowing him to finally crumple the ground and cradle his arm. Without missing a beat she grabbed her bag and strode out of the room slowly and confidently. It wasn’t until the doors shut behind her was the spell broken and sound finally returned to the room. It was as if they had existed inside a vacuum and all of a sudden the air was returned. People rushed over to help Mike who was still laying on the floor and others began talking about how scary the scene was.

In the midst of the chaos, the Cullens turned to one another and began discussing plans of action and how to bring this to Carlisle’s attention. Seeming to forget they couldn’t do anything to the girl as she had not proven herself to truly be a threat to anyone. Being her mate was one thing, but Isabella Swan had simply shown that nobody could touch her without consent and avoid consequences.

While chaos continued to thrive within the cafeteria walls, Rosalie followed Isabella’s scent trail out into the parking lot. The girl is preparing to leave but turns around at the sound of boots hitting the pavement.

She is still immensely stiff and the aggression is rolling off of her in waves, but at the sight of the blonde it all seemed to release.

“I knew you couldn’t stay aw-”

“That was dangerous.” The smug tilt to the brunette’s smile disappeared in an instant and her face went completely blank. Rosalie immediately regretted her words as she found herself missing the happiness that Isabella briefly exuded.

“He should not have tried to touch me. No one gets to touch me without my permission. I am not theirs.”

Rosalie’s beast growled in agreement at the statement, a desire to claim and mark made itself known.

“You should be more careful about what you do. People are beginning to think of you in a way you should avoid.”

Bella tilted her head and her frown became more prominent. “People may talk, but they will never take action. To them, I am a teenage girl who had an extreme reaction to unwanted contact. They never see the picture painted in front of them or the danger it may pose until it is far too late, like you.”

Rosalie immediately tensed up at the accusatory tone and suddenly tossed her way.

Isabella took a step in Rosalie’s direction, “You and your….group act as if you live in a different century. You’re not as careful as you'd like to think. Your skin is too pale for even the whitest of individuals. It lacks the coloration brought by the blood beneath our skin. Your reflexes are much too quick and everything you do is done with a careful precision impossible for regular human beings. But, no one else will notice. Humans are much too…selfish to notice the peculiarities of someone else. They are cogs in a larger machine, but are too blinded by their own egos to see it.”

The blatant acknowledgment of her inhuman traits threw her for such a loop that Rosalie had no idea how to respond. Despite the fact that this was her mate and that the secret of her nature was something Isabella had full right to know, she had no intention of it being revealed anytime soon.

The brunette had a smile on her face that somehow chilled Rosalie to the bone and heated her up in sinister ways.

“I watch you, Rosalie.” She took another step closer and suddenly Rosalie could reach out and touch the girl if she wished. “I watch you more than anyone else and god I would do anything for you.” Another step forward and they were breathing the same air, even though Rosalie had no need for it.

“I would worship at your altar and bring harm to anyone who wished it on you. All you have to do is ask.” Their eyes were locked in an intense gaze and Rosalie had no desire to break it.

Her mate just admitted to her intense desire to give her anything in the world. Her beast was purring at their close proximity and everything was screaming at her to take the girl right against her car, to stake her claim. And yet Tanya, Irina, and Kate were equally present in her mind. Nothing could happen without the other three being involved. As she opened her mouth to rebuff the girl's attempts once again the bell signaling the end of lunch rang and Isabella's focus was removed from her.

The rigidity in her shoulder returned and her jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. The feelings of anger and bloodlust returned so quickly that they settled in Rosalie’s stomach like a boulder and her fangs descended in response. Luckily, Isabella turned away quickly and walked back to her car before getting behind the wheel.

The brunette looked at her once again and Rosalie knew that another killing would occur tonight. Isabella’s control over her beast was slipping quickly and dangerously in the high school parking lot.

“You will be mine one day Rosalie Hale. Don’t forget that.”
And with those words, the car was put in drive and Isabella Swan quickly pulled out of the lot and peeled off down the road.

What a fascinating creature.

No other thought could describe the girl any better. A text message caused her phone to vibrate in her pocket and this time she did take it out to read.

Kate: Rosaleigh.

Oh fuck. They only use my birth name when I’m in trouble, and Kate being the one to send it means Tanya is too angry and Irina is calming her down.

She thought of their shorter-than-usual responses throughout the week and their visit the upcoming weekend when the pieces clicked.

They’re coming early. I’m out of time.

Chapter Text

Isabella’s mind was a mess. The torture she endured in the past came back to taunt her. Ghosts of her abusers teased and mocked her with words and memories of their torment the entire drive out of Forks.

She needed an escape, an outlet, some way for her to rid herself of the pain of her past. Renée was at the forefront of her mind. A mother is supposed to protect their child from harm and hunt those that slip past their guard to the ends of the Earth. Memories of her standing in the corner while Isabella begged for her mommy to help her. The slight smile that she couldn't hold back anymore. On other days she directed the entire scene and he merely followed her lead.

Isabella wanted to slowly pluck the skin from her bones while she begged for her to stop.

But, Renée isn’t here anymore, so she needs to switch paths. Port Angeles was not an option and she needed to cool off. Making decisions of this nature without a clear head was an amateur mistake. On her three-hour drive to Seattle Isabella had a lot to plan out. Where would she go? How would she choose who to take home? Was looking like her enough of a reason to damn a soul that perhaps doesn't deserve it?

It is.

In her mind simply looking like Renée Dwyer is plenty of reason and more for Isabella to wipe them from existence.

At night, Seattle is still plenty busy on a Friday night, but Isabella isn’t looking to party in the heart of the city. She heads to Aurora Avenue, an area in Seattle known for its prostitution.

Her tinted windows are rolled up as she slowly prowls the streets in search of a muse. A few blocks back she pulled over on the side of a dark street and removed her license plates as a precaution. She needs to be quick before she attracts the attention of the police. Men and women stroll up and down the blocks, some standing on the corners while others lean against buildings, their cigarette smoke visible in the air. Sleazy men with nothing on their mind, but their own pleasure pick up the first girl their eyes land on.

But not her, not Isabella.

She drives and drives and drives until she sees her. Average build, is older if the crow's feet are any indication and she has wavy brown hair that looks wild with the wind blowing. Her arms are around her exposed midriff in an attempt to keep the cold at bay. She’s illuminated under a streetlamp and she’s perfect.

Isabella pulls up next to the corner and rolls down her window. The woman is already looking at her inquisitively with a smarmy smirk on her face. She pops her hip out to the side in an attempt to seem sensual. Isabella doesn’t care about that, but she should, so she puts on a show.

“Excuse me miss!”

The escort tilts her head to the side and points at herself in question.

There’s no one else on the fucking block, of course, I’m talking to you.

“Yeah, you. Up for some fun?”

Silently, the woman walks up to Isabella’s car and leans through the open window. Every part of Isabella’s being demands for her to push her back. What gives this woman the right to lean on her property as if it were her own? Her pride demands immediate retribution, but she reminds herself that punishment will come soon enough.

“You gonna show me a good time?” The woman asks with a twinkle in her eye.

“I’ll show you a night you’ll never forget.” The statement has a certain finality that Isabella can see the woman shake off. For a split second, the smile she’s been wearing drops and her eyebrows furrow in the middle. Her instincts are telling her to not get in the car, but apparently, the draw of money is too good to ignore.

She’s desperate. Good.

“Never forget you say? Well, how could I turn that down?”

Isabella smiles and unlocks her car door. Before the woman has even closed it again, the gas pedal is already down and they're on the dark road back to Forks in the next five minutes.

It was about halfway into their nearly four-hour drive that Isabella could sense the woman’s restlessness. She was shifting in her seat and thought the glances at Isabella she kept taking out of the side of her eye were discreet.

I need to keep her at ease before she makes this night a lot harder for me.

“I apologize for my silence, I’ve been having a bad last few weeks.”

The woman jumped a bit at the unexpected sound of her voice which did not help in calming her anxiety, but she seemed receptive to conversation.

“Well, hopefully, I’ll be able to help relieve your stress.”

Isabella chuckled and looked over at the escort with a smile she hoped looked authentic, “Yes, I think you will.”

The woman smiled, and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders.

She’s letting down her guard.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ve still got quite a ways to go. I apologize, I’m not big on hotels but I will drive you back to Seattle in the morning.”

Almost immediately the woman began getting comfortable, obviously, the late hour and near-constant anxiety had worn her down. Hopefully, Isabella can make it back to Forks before she wakes up again.

“Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

“Mhm sleep well…”

“Rachel.”

So close to her name. This is already shaping up perfectly.

“Sleep well, Rachel.” Soon enough her breaths evened out and the plans for what Isabella would do to her were running through her head like a snuff film. This time the smile on her face was genuine.

Two hours later the car rolled to a stop in front of the cabin. Far out in nature where Isabella felt most at home. The sleeping woman next to her was unknowingly entering the den of a predator far more dangerous than she could imagine.

All the false platitudes and sympathies Isabella used to get her prey where she wanted her were thrown out the window as they no longer served a purpose. Now, she could carry out her plans and rid herself of these toxic memories dragging her down.

The engine cut off with a start and Rachel began to stir. Moving quickly, Isabella exited her side of the car and made it around to the passenger side. By the time she had opened the door, Rachel was looking around hesitantly. When their eyes met the escort was looking into pitch-black voids of darkness that held no warmth. There was a dangerous glint that chilled her to the bone and suddenly she knew that she had made a mistake getting in the car with the young woman.

Isabella could see as fear gripped the woman’s heart and her second genuine smile of night formed slowly.

“Aw come on now doll, the fun hasn’t even started yet.” Isabella drawled as she inched closer to the open door. Rachel desperately attempted to escape the hands reaching for her, scooting back as far as she could until the center console stopped her.

Before she could scream Isabella quickly covered her mouth and used the other to grip her throat. When the woman made an attempt to shake her off the hand on her windpipe pushed instead of squeezed.

“Ohhh I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I push too hard and your windpipe snaps and then where’s the fun in that?”

The woman began to struggle harder and the pressure around her throat increased. The smile left Isabella's face and was replaced with a scowl as her patience was lost.

Still gripping her by the neck Isabella yanked the woman out of the car and threw her to the ground. Rachel attempted to scramble to her feet, sharp rocks and sticks cutting into her skin, but the young woman stepped on her left ankle and ground the heel of her designer shoes into the flesh. The bones threatened to snap and the woman on the ground screaming in pain and fear unable to escape. Isabella debated breaking her ankle here and now, but she figured there were better ways to achieve that. However, she did need to incapacitate the banshee screaming on the ground to avoid having to chase her through the woods.

Quickly, she eased the pressure on the woman's ankle and brought her leg back. While the woman saw an opportunity, Isabella saw one as well. When Rachel got on her hands and knees and prepared to run, the toe of Isabella’s shoe swiftly and powerfully plowed into her stomach. Neither woman was sure if the snap they heard had a stick or her rib, but nonetheless, she collapsed to the ground once more. All she could do was wheeze after the air was promptly swept out of her lungs in a violent rush.

Meanwhile, Isabella looked around for a large enough branch for her plans. Spotting one by the steps leading up to her porch she picked it up and walked back toward her victim. Rachel looked up at the young woman with tears running down her face. Her breaths weren’t as desperate, but at the sight of her kidnapper, she began to hyperventilate.

“Don’t cry yet darling, we're just getting started.”

And with another resounding crack, the branch was swung into the side of her head and Rachel’s world went black.

She woke up slowly. Her head was filled with cotton and a single movement sent a throbbing wave starting in her temple and ending at her toes. Groaning filled an empty space and bounced off concrete walls. It’s dark and dank and cold and Rachel knows she’s going to die here.

A door opens and light floods what appears to be a basement. Footsteps descended the stairs leading to her only hope of freedom, but her hands and legs being tied to the table she lays on makes that idea impossible.

“Mmm, you’re awake. Good, it’s time to start.”

For the first time, Rachel realizes that her mouth is covered. She tries to scream, tries to beg for release, but it comes out muffled and hopeless.

Isabella walks over to the table and admires her work. The trophy room is an essential part of any hunting cabin. Proud huntsmen hang their taxidermied work on the wall as a show of pride. This one just so happens to reside on a basement level which Isabella believes to be some sort of divine gift. A blessing from the gods encouraging her art and helping her realize her full potential.

Tonight is many things; a release, the making of art, and a goodbye. A farewell to the idea of the mother she wishes she had, for she never existed and she never will. Isabella needs to let go of the idea of what Reneé Dwyer should have been. It’s holding her back and keeping her held hostage. Leaving Phoenix should have been the end of her torment, but it follows her still, but tonight she will put a stop to it. Isabella Swan never has had and likely never will have a mother who cares for her and loves every bit of her without conditions and tonight she will kill that hope she has held onto for years.

She walked across the cement floors to the table set up in the middle of the room where the escort lay helpless. A rolling cart similar to the ones in a mechanic’s shop is set up next to it with the tools Isabella requires for tonight’s activities. She runs her fingers gently over the woman’s arm. While she had been unconscious Isabella had removed her clothes leaving her entirely nude, yet there was nothing sexual about her actions, only clinical.

As Rachel quietly studied her tormenter in an attempt to find any way to appeal to whatever humanity may remain deep within her darkened heart, she saw the malice in her eyes. They were blank, almost studious as they ran over her naked body, completely different from the many men that have picked her up before, but they were also angry. A dangerous glint was present that told Rachel there was no hope of escape. This woman had a plan she had full intentions of carrying.

Eventually, Isabella’s eyes met with Rachel’s and she smiled at her coldly. It was unrepentant, it was evil.

“Let’s begin.”

Rachel gulped the bile that rushed up her throat back down.

“Tonight is all about release. Shedding myself of my demons and I believe that for my vision to truly work it has to be literal in a sense. Tonight, I will only be calling you by the name Reneé.”

Rachel flinched at how viciously the name was spat from her mouth. Anger and resentment were obviously felt for whoever Reneé was, who she is supposed to represent.

Isabella walked away for only a moment to drag a wooden chair next to the table. The workbench was rolled next to her for easy access and her formal clothes have been replaced with a comfortable sweater and even softer-looking sweatpants. The sweater sleeves were rolled up near her elbows and she had put gloves on before even walking down the stairs, immediately ready to get to work.

“First things first Renée you never wear colored nails. You never could break your nail-biting habit, but tonight can fix that for you.”

Isabella starts by picking up a needle and almost delicately grabs the escort’s arm. Rachel begins to squirm and tears run anew down her face, but the grip on her hand only tightens.

“Shhh I’m helping you out here Renée. No habit to break and no nails to paint when you don’t have any. Be grateful.”

The struggle began anew but nothing would stop the woman from stabbing the needle under Rachel’s nail. A guttural scream was pulled from her chest, but the cloth over her mouth dampened its impact. Then the wiggling started and Isabella slowly and painfully pried the nail from its bed. Blood was pouring out of her finger and all over Isabella’s hand. Rachel felt faint, the pain was too much, but Isabella paused her actions to slap her on the cheek and keep her aware.

“You can’t tap out on me now, we still have nine more to go,” the woman had the audacity to giggle. This was fun for her, this is where she gets her joy. Rachel’s screams meant nothing as each nail was pried from her hand and carelessly discarded on the concrete floor.

She’s not sure how the cleanup process went in the end, but she sadly didn’t pass out until Isabella got to nail number six.

When Rachel came to it was with a jolt. Isabella had slammed her next tool of choice on the wooden table and the noise was enough to startle her back into consciousness.

“Wake up, it's time for part two. And to ensure you don’t waste any more of my time I brought a little backup.” From her pocket, Isabella pulled out an EpiPen, aka pure adrenaline. There was no chance that Rachel would be passing out again anytime soon.

“You know Reneé, you always loved to smile. When your friends came over you smiled, when your husband bought you flowers you smiled, but never once can I recall you smiling at me. You did however smile at my agony. You found it amusing even to see me as I cried, screamed, and begged you for help. So, today I think we’re going to ruin that pretty smile of yours, yes I think that’s a perfect idea.”

The young woman lifted up her hand which contained a pair of pliers.

Please god no.

“Fortunately, I am no dentist,” she leaned in closer as if Rachel couldn’t hear her just fine from where she was, “They kind of scare me if I’m honest. I mean who grows up wanting to dig around in other people’s mouths.”

Rachel couldn’t keep the incredulous work off her face and Isabella had to laugh.

“I know! The murderer has the audacity to speak on other career choices, but if I’m honest this is just a hobby. Now, let's get that gag off and I promise you if you scream I will make this far more painful than it already will be.”

The warning in her voice was heeded, but that didn’t keep Rachel from showing her displeasure. She’s already going to die so the least she could do is make it as unpleasant for this bitch as it is for her.

As soon as the cloth slipped off of her mouth she spits in the brunette’s face, but any vindication she felt rushed away in the face of her fury. It wasn’t sudden, but slowly the glint in her eye was snuffed out and cold bitter malice was left behind. Her face held a sneer that chilled her to the bone and she could see her jaw clenching clearly.

It happened quickly, but Isabella gripped her victim’s jaw in a firm grip and pried her mouth open like a dog at the vet that refused to cooperate. The escort groaned in pain as the grip only got tighter, threatening to break or at least severely dislocate her jaw from its joint. Isabella leaned in so that Rachel could feel her breath brushing her skin.

“You’re a fighter I will give you that, but you have made an error here Rachel.”

The use of her real name came as a shock but also made her realize that things were about to get so much worse.

“It may come as a shock to you, but I actually care for a very small number of people on this planet. If tomorrow I burned the world to the ground I would mourn for nearly none and celebrate the loss of others. I do not feel anything for your suffering and causing you more pain is only going to make this night better for me and worse for you. I planned to kill you after this. Your incessant whining has been grating on my nerves since I took you out of the car. But now?”

She paused and took a deep breath, likely to calm herself down. When her eyes met with Rachel’s once again, that fire was back in her eyes.

“Now I’m going to make sure you go out screaming my dear. Fuck, pulling out your teeth I have a better idea.”

Roughly, Isabella pushed away Rachel’s face as if it disgusted her, which it likely did, and she wiped the spit off her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

She walked to the right-hand corner of the room Rachel could barely see from her position. Shelves full of tools such as mallets, shears, and…knives. Lots and lots of knives.

Oh god. no. No No NO NO NO NO PLEASE N-

Her tears began anew as Isabella walked back over with three knives of different sizes. All were intimidating and the brunette was looking between them in contemplation. She looked up at Rachel with her head cocked to the side and an inquisitive look on her face. If she hadn’t known the devil that lay beneath that innocent look Rachel would have believed her to be innocent.

Isabella asked, “The serrated one probably won’t cut too clean huh?” All Rachel could do was continue crying. She thought about begging for her life, promising to never tell anyone what happened here, but she knows that will just end up killing her quicker.

Maybe she should beg. At least then this torture would end.

“I told you that tonight is about shedding myself of the things that wish to destroy me. The memories ingrained in my skin were caused by you and your abuse. Y-you know Renée I used to think you were a monster. Some supernatural demon sent to punish me from hell or some other ridiculous notion. But, you want to know the truth?”

She leaned in again, obviously not afraid of the possibility of being spit on again, and her eyes were slightly crazed. Her words were coming out faster and sometimes she stumbled over them in her desperation to get them out. To expel from herself the pain and anger that has been festering for years.

“You are nothing special. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? You are not a God and you sure as hell aren’t a demon. You are a worthless sack of meat wrapped up in human flesh. But, tonight Renén I’ll return you to your true form and remind myself that you have no power over me because if I’m honest, you’re more pathetic than I am.”

She smiled and picked up the smallest knife. Rachel’s eyes widened as the blade was brought closer to her stomach. She feared struggling would only result in the knife plunged deep into her abdomen and instead tried to cave her stomach inward and escape, but it was no use. The blade made contact and with one light push punctured her stomach swiftly. She screamed and screamed and screamed but it fell on deaf ears.

All Isabella could hear was the roaring of her beast. It howled with joy over finally tearing into their prey. She dragged the blade upwards making a vertical cut of nearly surgical precision. The blood was pouring from her body like a rushing flood, but she couldn't die yet. No Renée needs to know how she will end up, that she will be returned to all that she truly is. Meat and bones like everyone else.

“Now this is where the fun really starts.” She looked back at the woman screaming in agony. Her eyes were clouded over and Isabella could tell there wasn’t much time left.

She rolled the bloody sleeves of her sweater back uselessly and prepared for the final step. With a deep breath, she reached her fingertips into the woman’s body and grabbed the edge of the incision. Rachel began to whine as Isabella pulled the skin back and picked up the second-largest knife she had brought over. She lined it up and began separating Rachel’s skin from her muscle.

The screaming reached a new pitch and the girl began to thrash which only resulted in the cut being butchered. Isabella slipped the knife out and watched the crying, bleeding, dying woman on the table. She reached a gloved hand up to this time gently grab Rachel’s chin and guide her limp head to meet her gaze.

She smiled softly at the girl.

“Thank you for being such an incredible muse. This was everything that I needed.”

With that, Isabella got back to work diligently. She worked her way around the entirety of Rachel’s torso slowly and meticulously. The knife was sharp enough that it made the process slightly less taxing than it could have been. It felt like she was drifting on a cloud from the high that came from her kill. If she’s honest she has no idea when Rachel’s body gave up and she fell completely limp in death. All Isabella knows is that she was doing it. She was freeing herself and ruining the image of Renée that used to haunt her.

It was likely hours later when Isabella had moved down Rachel’s right arm and was working on her ring finger when she heard a creak from upstairs. Suddenly, shaken out of her focused mindset she paused and tried to tune her ears in for any other sounds. It was no use however, as in a few seconds the trophy room door burst open and in a rush of wind Isabella was pinned up against a wall with a very hard arm pressed against her throat. She could hear multiple growls and words being spoken amongst different people, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. The slam of her head connecting with the wall had left her dazed and slightly confused and her eyes were closed to fight the sudden wave of nausea that overtook her.

More words were spoken closer to her and she felt the arm against her throat pressing harder. Oxygen was getting hard to come by so she took a large breath in through her nose and her eyes popped open in alarm before rolling into the back of her head. The scent of freshly fallen snow on a mossy forest floor overwhelmed her senses and almost completely relaxed her immediately.

What the fuck is happening right now?

All of a sudden a new voice, a familiar voice, entered the room, and the weight against her throat retreated immediately leaving her to fall to the ground in an undignified heap. The voices were beginning to become clearer.

"Kate what the fuck are you doing?!"

"Wh-What?! Rosalie who is she?! Look what she did!

She gasped for air and shakily brought herself onto her hands and knees. Delicate hands grasped her face and brought her gaze upwards to lock eyes with her savior.

“Rosalie,” she wheezed out with a smile that was returned with an anxious grimace of the blonde’s.

“Isabella. Wh-What did you do?”

The killer frowned and cocked her head while shifting her gaze to look past her. Three other blonde women were standing behind Rosalie with looks of shock and caution on their faces. Her victim’s partially skinned body was still leaking blood onto the floor. She looked back at Rosalie and saw that her eyes were completely black and she didn’t appear to be breathing

How odd Rosalie. Another tick on your inhuman qualities list.

She lowered her voice to keep the strangers from hearing her, “I did it, Rosalie,” she smiled, “I freed myself.”

Rosalie just seemed to look more concerned.

“Freed yourself from who Isabella?”

“My demons Rose. They can’t hurt me anymore, I w-won’t let them hurt me anymore!” It was a shock to both women when the brunette began to cry. Her tears suddenly came rushing out and all the torturous pain that swirled around inside of her came rushing out like the blood from Rachel’s body.

Without thinking Rosalie wrapped her arms around her broken mate and brought her into a tight embrace. The girl’s face stuffed into the crook of her neck as her sobs tore themselves free from her throat. When after a few minutes it became clear the brunette wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, Rosalie shifted her body and brought her mate to sit in her lap. She turned around so she could finally face her other mates and their expression of bafflement.

It was clear none of them had any idea what to say, but Irina, the sweetest out of the four of them, could tell that this obviously twisted young woman was important to their Rosie. She walked over quietly and sat herself down next to Rose on the floor despite the cautious noises Tanya and Kate made. The two blondes locked eyes and Irina could see how affected Rosalie was by the crying girl in her arms. If she’s honest Irina was beginning to feel similarly. The despair that was clear in the girl’s hiccuping sobs tore at Irina's heartstrings and made her want to wrap the girl in her own arms. She settled for a smaller action however and placed her hand on the girl’s back. The brunette’s breath audibly hitched and her audible crying stopped as she turned her face over her shoulder.

When Isabella locked eyes with the new blonde currently touching her it felt as if the air was knocked out of her lungs. God, she was beautiful. Just as beautiful as her Rosalie.

Mine.

She looked past her and made a point to lock eyes with the other women who were still tensely standing further away. Just as in the parking lot and just now with the other one, she felt as if a part of her soul was tethered to the others. Their beauty was unmatched by anyone else Isabella had ever laid eyes on. She knew immediately that she would do anything for all four of these women…as soon as she could pull her stupid fucking emotions together.

Mine! They’re all mine. I will tear out the throats of any who wish them harm.

While Isabella’s gaze slowly became more predatory and darkened as her beast laid claim to them all, the four blondes could smell the steadily growing arousal and had to keep themselves from doing something rash.

Irina, Tanya, and Kate were all staring at the brunette in utter shock. When Rosalie cleared her throat four heads turned to look at her quickly.

God, this is going to be a shit show.

She took in the quickly rising anger growing in the gazes of her three other blonde mates and steeled herself for the conversations they were obviously about to have.

“So, I think it’s obvious we need to talk.” She cautiously started.

She gives Isabella credit for not flinching at the three enraged growls that suddenly filled the room–but the sudden increase in Isabella’s arousal at the sounds did not help at all–because Rosalie admittedly jumped a bit in the face of their rage.

It was Tanya who finally broke their silence.

“Rosaleigh. I’m going to need you to start from the beginning and this time if you leave anything out I will not keep my mouth shut.”

Rose withered a bit under the glare Tanya directed at her but nodded nonetheless. Isabella was looking between the four of them and they could all feel her anxiety rising a bit. With a deep breath, Rosalie closed her eyes and prayed to all the Gods above that she made it through this conversation alive.

Chapter Text

If any of Forks’ newest blonde residents had known what was awaiting them in the mountains that night they probably would have stayed in Alaska. Well. Okay, they got to see their Rose and they would never pass up that opportunity, but the circumstances are less than ideal.

Every few seconds the blood of the girl, the corpse, on the table would drip onto the concrete floor echoing throughout the basement. It’s a massacre. This young woman in the arms of their mate had butchered this girl. It was barbaric, and yet, somehow, they found themselves bound to her. Isabella as they now knew her name to be still had tears rolling down her cheeks as her eyes darted from one blonde to another.

Tanya and Kate didn’t know what to do. While they wanted to take their new mate who was obviously in distress into their arms, their hostile feelings caused by the murder they walked in on had not quite faded. Irina always was the most compassionate of them all. She continued to comfort the younger girl even more so than she had before.

“Shhhh srdiečko. You are safe now. No one can hurt you with us to protect you.”

At this point, Irina’s gift was beginning to be put to use. The women in the basement could all make out the scents of different things that remind them of home, safety, and comfort. Rosalie, Kate, and Tanya’s tense bodies slowly began to relax while Isabella melted even more into the embrace she found herself in.

Tanya quickly realized that this basement was not a fitting environment for the conversation they needed to have. Everyone was far too on edge even with Irina’s pheromones making their instincts easier to manage.

“Katarína, deal with this mess as swiftly as you can. We’re having this conversation upstairs,” Tanya spoke softly so as to not alert the human. Kate nodded slowly, obviously still unnerved by the scene in front of them. Tanya, noticing her mate’s struggle, gently stroked her face before giving her a gentle kiss.

“Please, moje srdce, I need you to do this for me.” Kate opened her eyes slowly and the darkness swirling in them slowly ebbed away into gentle care. She nodded before swiftly picking up the dead woman and disappearing upstairs in the blink of an eye.

With the body gone the vampires in the room were able to breathe a little easier. Yes, they have had centuries to control their instincts, but that doesn't mean it comes without struggle from time to time.

As Tanya turned her attention back to the three women huddled together on the floor, Rosalie could feel when her gaze began to burn into her once again. It was as if Tanya was attempting to burrow into her brain to figure out what in the entire fuck she had been thinking.

Without taking her eyes off Rosalie, Tanya spoke, “Irina, love, take Isabella upstairs and make sure she stays calm. Rosalie and I will join you in a second.”

“Of course. Come on, srdiečko, I’ve got you.” Irina picked Isabella up, holding her tenderly bridal style and slowly walked her up the stairs, leaving Tanya and Rosalie alone in the basement.

It was silent for a moment as Tanya glared at Rosalie a little longer, watching as the other blonde squirmed under the heat of her disappointment. Eventually, however, the coven leader sighed before walking forward and crouching down in front of the still-sitting woman.

They looked each other in the eyes on an even playing field, which guaranteed for Tanya that not a single lie would be able to slip past her guard.

“Why.” It wasn’t a question. The words came rushing from Rosalie’s mouth faster than she could properly string them together.

In a jumbled mess, she hurriedly told her lover the entire story from the beginning. The girl with a car made from Rosalie’s wildest fantasies and a god complex to match it. Locking eyes with her on the first day of school and feeling her equilibrium being thrown completely off balance. The fear that arose and festered within her from that simple glance.

She decided that she needed to figure out what made the girl so thought-provoking before bothering her mates with her concerns. How Isabella Swan was not the charming, loveable, prodigal daughter the town believed her to be. Rosalie described the malice, the rage, that shook in its cage behind her every smile. How those smiles were forced and practiced. The tribulations of being forced to share a desk with her in her motorcycle repair class. Isabella informing Rosalie of her plans to court her was the catalyst of her anxiety that resulted in Tanya feeling the need to call her. Rosalie is not totally opposed to the idea and finds that fact to be so terrifying she attempts to ignore the girl entirely.

Rosalie described feeling a dangerous aura around Isabella and then following her to Port Angeles. Witnessing her murder that drunken bastard and hiding the body for her afterward. Finally, accepting that the girl is their mate, but continuing to ignore her after not knowing how to proceed. Isabella’s mood soured throughout the week before it boiled over on Friday when she almost broke Mike Newton’s arm. This led to tonight when Rosalie was deciding to finally bite the bullet and call her lovers to inform them of the situation when she felt Isabella’s bloodlust reach an overwhelming level through their bond link. She was in the middle of tracking her when she felt Tanya, Kate, and Irina’s horror and anger in the same place which is when she walked in on the scene she did.

At this point, Rosalie was almost inconsolable. The stress, pressure, and shock of the last few months rolled off of her in waves and all Tanya could do was wrap her in her arms and hold her tight. The words “I’m so sorry” fell from her lips in between dry, broken, sobs. No one would ever see her this vulnerable besides her family.

“Oh, moja láska, calm for me. It’s alright. We’re here now, we’ll figure it out.” Tanya whispered in her ear but everything felt muffled. Is it possible for vampires to have a panic attack? Suddenly, a new set of arms embraced them both with care and concern.

“Oh Rosaleigh my heart, my warrior, you’re okay. Here,” Kate carefully placed her hand at the back of Rosalie’s head and guided her face into the crook of her neck where her scent gland was more potent. She tried her best to release the most calming pheromones she could. It was times like these when she wished she had Irina’s gift.

Slowly, Rosalie’s body began to relax and the sobbing turned into pitiful whimpers. She melted into Tanya and Kate’s embrace and allowed their love and concern to wash over her.

She sniffled, “I missed you three so much. It felt like I had a hole in my chest where my heart should be. Hiding all of this from you only made it worse.”

“We missed you too Rosie. We’re never leaving you alone for fifty years again, it's too much.” Kate whispered while Rosalie just nodded along with her face in her neck. Something about Kate’s scent was always able to calm her down when her emotions ran high. She smelled like the snow melting in a forest as winter transitioned to spring. It was always Rosalie’s favorite time of year in her youth.

The three women enjoyed the comfort of being in each other’s arms once again before Tanya bit the bullet and broke the calm atmosphere.

She sighed, “I’m sorry to say, but we do need to go upstairs and talk.” Rosalie’s now relaxed body began to stiffen up once again.

“Shhh my love, we can talk about the lies at another time. I’m sure you already feel bad enough and now that I understand where your mind was I cannot fault you too much. But, we do need to talk to Isabella and figure out a course of action.”

“I agree. I didn’t even realize the four of us could have another mate waiting out here for us to find! The circumstances are less than ideal, but I digress.”

Finally, Rosalie was able to remove her face from its hiding spot and look at her mates. She placed her hands on the side of their faces and smiled gently.

“Every time I look at you I fall in love all over again.” Tanya and Kate’s smiles filled the room with such warmth Rosalie felt the constant chill of her existence wash away. They leaned their foreheads together and sat together basking in a momentarily quiet existence.

“Alright, let's go.” Tanya quietly said while pulling away. She stood up and brushed invisible dirt off of her pants, straightening her posture and donning her formidable aura. Rosalie and Kate followed her lead and took deep breaths in preparation for what was ahead before following their coven leader up the stairs towards an uncertain future.

When the three ancients entered the living room they were greeted with an unexpectedly tender scene. Irina had Isabella sitting curled up in her lap while the brunette hid her face in the crook of the blonde’s neck, similar to Rosalie a few minutes prior.

Irina was stroking her hand through Isabella’s hair carefully to avoid pulling and thus disturbing the relaxed girl. Upon hearing her loves enter the room she looked up in adoration for her mates, both the ones she's known and the ones she hopes to know soon. As if she too could sense them, Isabella suddenly shifted around to look at the women behind her.

Rosalie, Tanya, and Kate stood in the living room doorway not quite knowing if getting closer would spook the girl. To their surprise, Isabella held out her hand towards the three, beckoning them closer. Rosalie was the first to move quickly speeding across the room to the couch, desperate to also bring her new mate comfort. She sat to Irina’s right and surrounded both her blonde and brunette mate in a hug. She nuzzled into the back of Isabella’s neck and purred as the scent of almond, petrichor, and iron filled her nose.

Meanwhile, Isabella kept her arm out and her eyes on the two blondes she hadn’t fully been introduced to. She may not know them, but the animal inside of her does and it is screaming at her that they belong to her, with her, just as the other blondes surrounding her do. She needs them all here with her, surrounding her, protecting heras no one else has before.

Despite her voice being rough from all the crying she had done she pleaded, “Please.”

And that single word broke any resolve Tanya and Kate may have had. They rushed to the couch with Kate sitting down on Irina’s left and Tanya kneeling in front of the four. Kate molded her front to Irina’s back, reaching her arm around the blonde to rest her hand on Isabella’s thigh. Not too tight as to seem controlling, but tight enough to show her feelings of possession and comfort.

Tanya herself pressed her face into the side of Bella’s torso which led to the younger girl placing her hand on top of Tanya’s head and scratching her scalp in a comforting gesture. It’s a special moment when Tanya feels safe enough to purr in front of others and as the sound made itself known all four of her mates smiled down at her.

In a state of peace, with only the sounds of content purrs filling the room, the five women sat entangled on the couch. It was the most relaxed any of them have ever remembered being. They all felt complete in a way they didn’t know they could be.

Surprisingly it was Kate who finally broke the silence and shattered their little bubble.

“I have no plans on moving anytime soon.”

Tanya shifted slightly, “I’m perfectly content to have this conversation right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Get on with it then,” Irina spoke up. Always the one to get straight to the point.

“Ask me anything. I know you must be curious, I'm quite a fascinating creature.”

“Some would call you narcissistic, Isabella.”

“Oh Rosalie, the four of you can call me anything you’d like. I’m not picky.”

Kate snorted and Tanya sighed. This is what her eternity is going to look like it seems. The coven leader cleared her throat to signal the beginning of their discussion.

“I think names would be a good place to start. I’m Tatyana Denali, but most people call me Tanya. You know Rosaleigh and Irina which leaves our spitfire Katarína.”

Isabella smiled, “Your names are beautiful. Fitting for creatures such as yourselves.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious to you Isabella that nothing about us is human.”

Isabella hummed in agreement, “For a second I considered radioactive spiders and kryptonite, then I realized that’s fucking dumb because Rosalie couldn’t be anything less than a goddess. Then I meet you three and I’m left wondering now how the gods could have blessed me so.”

All four blondes smiled at their mate’s words. Isabella continued, “I don’t quite know what’s going on with all of us, but I do know that you four are mine. I will not hesitate to maim and dismantle anyone who wishes you harm.”

“Isabella, you don’t even know us that well.”

“I don’t have to. You’re mine. My instincts demand that I protect you. I protect what is mine. There are few things in this dismal little world that I care for and when I care for something I do everything in my power to assure it is never harmed.”

Irina carefully placed her hand on Isabella's cheek and guided her face until they were looking each other in the eye.
“Isabella we may be yours, but you are also ours. All four of us have been in love for many years and it has been a very, very long time since we all involved ourselves with one person and even then it was never serious. This? With you? We will be devoted to you until the end of time. You won't be able to get rid of us unless gods forbid, you tell us to leave.”

Isabella stared Irina down and carefully leaned in until their foreheads touched. Both women closed their eyes and sighed as the other’s body temperature soothed them.

“I may not understand exactly what is going on, but I can tell you now there is nothing in the world that could ever make me wish for you to leave me alone. I would burn the world down and live only with the four of you for the rest of my days if possible.”

All five women cuddled closer to each other as Isabella’s words settled and a brief silence enveloped them. However, Rosalie was the next to speak.

“....Isabella?”

“Mmm yes, Rose?”

“What happened with the girl in the basement?”

Suddenly, Isabella stiffened and the hand idly stroking through Tanya’s hair abruptly halted. She was staring over Irina’s shoulder but it was obvious she was seeing things of the past. The four blondes exchanged cautious glances.

“I released myself from the burdens of my past.” Her tone was detached and cold and all four women knew they were toeing a thin line they weren’t sure how to tread. The aura of danger and pain radiating off of Isabella was so powerful they could all feel it through their bond despite the link not being fully completed. The dangerous energy reminded them immediately of Athenodora when she recounted moments of her past. It didn’t take long for them to decide without any words needed to be spoken.

We’re returning to this topic, but their mothers need to be present.

Kate decided she needed to finally jump in and tried to get the girl’s attention, “Isabella?”

Immediately, eyes filled with years of pain snapped to meet vibrant ochre. She tilted her head in question, but she was still struggling to speak.

“Isabella my love I think you need to be fully aware of what you are getting into with us.”

She stared into her eyes and nodded her head in a gesture to continue. Kate looked down at Tanya who was already looking up at her and nodded as well.

Kate continued, “Isabella, you know we're not human, but you should know we are incredibly dangerous.”

The brunette snorted before releasing a chuckle which had all four of the blondes smiling. She shook her head before returning Kate’s gaze once more.

“Well, I could’ve told you that. Kate you had me dangling by my throat faster than I could blink.”

Kate then looked down in shame; practically curling in on herself in fear of having hurt her mate. Bella however saw the demeanor shift immediately. She carefully removed her hand from Tanya’s hair (the growl did not go unnoticed) to place two fingers beneath Kate’s chin, lifting her head to meet her gaze once more.

“You have no reason to worry I am not hurt and I do not blame you. Honestly, in the future, I hope we can maybe recreate that in a more intimate context.”

The light smell of Isabella’s arousal filled the air and four pairs of eyes immediately turned black in desire.

Isabella smirked as she shifted her gaze between them.

“Ah, you like that idea my loves?”

Four growls filled the air and Rose and Irina nuzzled into opposite sides of Isabella’s neck. Kate gripped Isabella’s leg tighter and Tanya practically buried her face into the brunette’s stomach. The human smiled at their desire obviously on display.

Finally, Tanaya pulled herself together and reeled in her primal desire to take the girl where they were. Despite her being able to speak the growl was very much apparent in her tone.

“As much as you entice us I am determined to do this right. We will court you. You will get to know us as we will get to know you, and when the time comes for us to mate we will make you scream so loud the Gods will hear.”

Finally, the human was caught mildly off guard and a light blush graced her cheeks as she stared into Tanya’s hungry eyes.

“I’d like that.” Tanya smiled.

“Good girl.” She purred and shifted onto her knees before holding Isabella’s face in her hands, “You will be cherished and we will treat you as you always should have been. We will love you and care for you and protect you as you deserve. You will be ours. You are our mate Isabella and we will go to the ends of the Earth for you.”

A light layer of tears pooled in the human’s eyes as she listened to the passionate declaration made by the beautiful goddess in front of her. Slowly, she looked around and found all of the women to be looking at her just as seriously. This was a vow. They were making a promise to her, a promise all others before them had broken. And for once in her life, she found herself believing their words.

She nodded slowly and looked back into Tanya’s eyes. The gentle smile on the woman’s face filled Isabella with warmth and a sudden feeling of safety. She nodded and for once in her life felt a small genuine smile grace her features. She watched as Tanya noticed the upward pull of her lips and as the blonde’s breath got caught in her throat. Suddenly, her eyes shifted back up to meet Isabella’s own.

“You, Isabella, are a vision. I hope we get to see you smile every day for the rest of our lives.” Isabella was in awe as she felt Rosalie and Irina begin to purge against her neck while Kate rubbed her hand comfortingly up and down her thigh.

For once, Isabella stammered, “I-I’m not used to this, t-to caring for others. I might not be great at it at first, but I will do everything in my power to cherish you all as you will me.”

She could feel the smiles against her skin and blushed at the smile of the strawberry blonde in front of her.

“What a lovely promise that is to hear môj miláčik.” Tanya lightly brushed her thumb across Isabella’s cheekbone.

Kate leaned over Irina's shoulder, “We will be patient with you always. You don’t ever have to worry about us tiring of you or any other ridiculous notion you may come up with. You’re stuck with us.”

Rosalie whispered against the human’s ear, “I fear the tables have turned. It’s time for you to experience how…determined women can be when they desire someone. And we desire you Isabella, more than you know.”

“Currently, I think my desire for you four is a bit unfathomable,” Isabella said with closed eyes and a breathy voice.

Irina released a dark chuckle, “Oh Isabella, we know exactly how much you desire us.” She pointedly ran her nose along the length of Isabella’s neck. The blush was immediate.

“Oh.”

This is the most mortifying moment of my life.

All four women chuckled and suddenly the serious air mildly dissipated. Isabella looked back to Tanya and found the woman still watching her fondly, though her eyes shifted to the others around her occasionally. She likes this. She likes having a feeling of belonging amongst these gorgeous sirens.

A bit awkwardly she cleared her throat and she felt eight eyes zoned in on her with intense focus. She took a deep breath in an attempt to get used to the off-kilter state these women constantly pushed her into. Eventually, she voiced the question that was running rampant through her mind.

“So, what happens now?”

She watched as the blondes looked at each other, seemingly communicating without speaking. Isabella didn't like that.

“Hey. If I’m going to be a part of this relationship I refuse to be left out of the loop. I will not feel like a bystander.” Her harsh tone seemed to shock them before she looked as each of their faces shifted into one of remorse.

Irina was the one to speak, “Apologizes my darling. You are not any less to us. We simply wanted to ensure we are on the same page before giving you an answer.”

Tanya cut in then, “Yes Isabella, with our solidified bond we can more easily communicate without words. It is not quite a form of telepathy…i-it’s hard to explain without showing you. Just know we will never knowingly keep you uninformed and once we can consummate our bond you’ll understand the link we have.”

Isabella nodded in reluctant agreement even if it didn’t quite sate her irritation. Suddenly, she wished her goddesses weren’t as noble as they seemed determined to be.

Tanya continued, “Nevertheless, to answer your question. I believe it may be best to get away from Forks for a while. Not only because of the…police investigations but also to escape the stifling air of this dismal little town.”

Isabella snorted at the grimace of distaste that graced Tanya’s features. Immediately, it shifted into an amused smile at the sound.

“I think getting away from here would allow me to breathe for the first time in months.” Rosalie hugged the human tighter in response to that as she was the only one who truly knew how badly Isabella’s mental health seemed to spiral in the past few weeks.

Tanya nodded and turned away from the four gathered on the couch. She quickly crossed the room and grabbed a cell phone before calling someone Isabella didn’t know.

She watched with bated breath as Tanya’s face lit up and the call was answered, “Hello, Mama.”

Isabella’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

“Yes, we will be visiting you all soon. There are developments that we believe need to be discussed with you all as soon as possible, and someone–,” she looked at Isabella then, “--we want you to meet.”

…

“Yes, we will be there within the day.”

…

“I believe Athenadora will be very helpful in this case. No. Not like that.”

…

Tanya looked at Isabella again, “I believe we may have found our more primal mother a kindred spirit.”

Isabella scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.

“Yes, I love you too, Mama, we will see you soon. Goodbye.”

Tanya hung up and slowly approached the coach again before she looked Isabella in the eye with a mischievous smile.

“How would you like to go to Italy?”

Chapter Text

It was quickly decided that Tanya would be the one to drive them to the airport. Irina and Rosalie were still struggling to detach themselves from Isabella’s side, and Kate drove like she was in the latest installment of Fast and the Furious. Kate packed a bag for Isabella, Irina carried Isabella to the car with Rosalie following quickly behind, Tanya turned on the ignition, and they were on their way out of Forks in record time.

The blondes could tell exhaustion was pulling Isabella toward the unconscious void and knew it would not be long before their human mate was asleep in the backseat. That, however, didn’t stop the brunette from attempting to learn more about her “goddesses,” as she had dubbed them.

“So… you’re not human?”

Tanya chuckled.

“No, little one, we are not human. Not anymore, at least.”

Isabella perked up a bit at that.

“Not anymore? Meaning you were human at one point?”

“Yes, but it was a very long time ago. I can hardly remember what my mother or father even looked like.”

Isabella hummed as she snuggled closer into Irina’s embrace, making the woman purr.

“Well, if they looked anything like you, I’m sure they were gorgeous.”

If Tanya could blush, she would have, but for now, she just smiled a little bashfully. Kate, on the other hand, barked out a laugh.

“Calm down, Casanova. I can’t let Tanya get all the compliments. What? You don’t think I’m stunning as well?”

The other blonde turned around in her seat, and Isabella could see the teasing smile on her face. However, something about any of these women believing Isabella didn’t find them to be equally breathtaking felt like a disservice. Passionately, Isabella stated quietly, “I think all four of you are the most gorgeous women to ever walk the face of the Earth. Every time I look at you all, I’m in awe at being able to share a space with you.”

Kate shut up after that. She’d never admit that her breath caught in her throat, and the little human had managed to make her feel a bit shy. The other blondes in the car, however, smirked at their usually loud-mouthed lover being reduced to a silent puddle.

“Why are we going to Italy, Tanya?” Isabella suddenly inquired. She finally realized that she truly had no idea what their plans were, but she’d let these women drag her anywhere without complaint. Maybe that should concern her, but nowhere in her mind could she find any reason to fear for her safety. She’d never felt more at home than in the presence of these women.

The blonde in the driver’s seat hummed, wondering how much she should disclose and what she should keep as a surprise.

“We’re going to visit our parents. They’re all dying to meet you, by the way. As we’ve said, it’s been a long time since the four of us found each other. They are excited to meet someone new who’s special to us. Plus, I detested the idea of remaining in the same place as the Cullens for a second longer.”

Isabella’s mood immediately soured at the mention of that family.

“I don’t trust them. There’s something wrong with them.” She said with disgust laced in every word.

“That there is, miláčik. You have no idea.” Tanya agreed emphatically. They’d do everything in their power to keep their new mate away from Carlisle Cullen’s blood-stained hands.

Rosalie quietly growled next to Isabella’s ear, and the brunette stroked her arm in response. The blonde calmed down quickly and returned to nuzzling behind Isabella’s ear. “Don’t want you near them,” she growled.

“They won’t touch me, Rose. Not with you four to protect me.”

The blondes quietly preened at their mate’s confidence in them, Rosalie and Kate in particular. Isabella took note of that with a smirk until a sudden yawn escaped her mouth. She blushed, and her mates all felt their eyes darken as her blood rushed to the surface of her skin.

“Tired, my angel?” Irina asked her quietly, and Isabella nodded in quiet agreement.

“I didn’t realize it, but tonight took more out of me than I thought. It must have been the excitement of meeting you all.”

The blasé reminder of Isabella’s actions led to Kate and Tanya stiffening slightly. They really needed to get her to Athenodora. Both Isabella and their mother desperately needed someone who understands their darkest desires.

Rosalie spoke up as she stroked Isabella’s cheek. “Sleep, my darling girl, and we’ll be on a plane to Italy when you next wake.”

The brunette nodded dazedly before leaning her head further against Irina’s shoulder. In the next few minutes, Isabella’s heartbeat slowed, and her breaths evened out, leaving her in a peaceful sleep against her mate. Rosalie gently stretched over the girl and left a tender kiss on her forehead.

The four vampires sat in silence, content listening to the even breaths of their sleeping mate. Irina tenderly brushed a rogue strand of hair off the girl’s face and stated, “What about Isabella’s actions tonight disturbed you so? We have all done worse. Our mothers even more so. Tell me, what about Isabella killing that woman tonight makes it different?”

The questions weren’t accusatory, but Tanya and Kate could hear the subtle protective tone they carried.

“Do not think for a second that I love her any less for her choice in entertainment, ‘Rina. It has simply been a long time since I have personally witnessed such a barbaric display of violence between one human being and another. It took me by surprise. The blood was everywhere, and for a short period of time, I nearly lost my grip on my control.” Kate replied quietly, her tone severe in a way it very rarely was. Tanya hummed and added, “The shock and the blood aside, you know intimately that I care very little for the lives of humans. They are a food supply, our prey; it is the way of the natural world for us to have little regard for the life or death of those below us. However,” the leather steering wheel creaked and groaned under the strength of Tanya’s grip, “her hobby puts her at risk. We may not care about those she kills, but that does not mean the humans around her do not. You saw her. She was not thinking clearly, and that means she can make mistakes—mistakes she cannot afford to make.”

Rosalie finally weighed in. “You’re right to be concerned.” In a second, Tanya’s crimson eyes locked on her gold in the rearview mirror.

“Isabella is a creature of immaculate control. She is a carefully constructed façade that even I have not had a proper chance to deconstruct. However, these past few weeks, she has been unraveling. She almost broke the arm of a boy in her class for putting his arm around her without her consent,” Rosalie sniffed as her lovers sneered. “Not that I wouldn’t have done that myself. Except, I would not have done it in a cafeteria full of witnesses.” Even Irina lifted her head in shock at that revelation.

“That is not ideal. She may become a suspect for any crimes committed in that area due to her history of violence,” Kate admitted while leaning her head against the window. Suddenly, Rosalie remembered something important.

“Has anyone been in contact with Chief Swan? The daughter of the Chief of Police suddenly disappearing could prove troublesome with my presence disappearing at the exact same time.”

Tanya chuckled with a smug smile gracing her face. “Oh, môj miláčik, you doubt me so? I called that pathetic excuse of a man while you all were busy getting Isabella packed and into the car. He will not be bothering us anytime soon.”

Irina smiled, hearing the mischief in Tanya’s voice. “Tatyana, what did you do?”

Tanya simply smiled. “A few well-placed threats guaranteed that Charles Swan would not be opening his mouth. He and Isabella already have an estranged and borderline hostile relationship; he wouldn’t have even started looking for her for the foreseeable future.”

The others scowled, hearing how little their mate’s father cared for her.

Is that man truly the only family she has left? If so, they will make sure she knows a love she never could have imagined.

“On the topic of parental bonds, may I finally ask a question that has to have been on all of our minds?” Kate proposed. The other three nodded at her to continue. “She reminds us all of Athenodora, does she not?”

“Oh, without a doubt.” “Absolutely.” “One hundred percent.”

These responses were given all at the same time.

“Wonderful! Glad we’re on the same page on that front.”

Rosalie hesitantly spoke up. “Are we sure that introducing the two of them will not end in chaos?”

“Oh, I am certain it will end in chaos, my dear. However, I also believe they will understand each other in ways they have been searching for all of their lives,” Tanya replied, deep in thought.

Irina sighed. “We have always struggled to understand our other mother. Her beast is a physical embodiment of bloodlust and despair itself. She loves us deeply; that is something none of us could ever deny. But I feel she struggles to show it in ways that do not relate to violence.”

They sat in silence, absorbing Irina’s observations.

“Could it be… that we have not put as much effort into understanding her as we should have? We have tangible maternal bonds with Sulpicia and Didyme, but Athenodora has always stood on the sidelines. Do you think we’ve made her believe we don’t see her as a mother like we do the others?”

Rosalie’s ramblings turned panicked near the end. The idea that they may have caused their mother pain was a heavy thought, one that brought a certain agony to their hearts. They loved all of their mothers equally and powerfully. Athenodora was simply someone they struggled to understand, and it created a distance they had no idea how to navigate properly.

That did not mean they did not love her. They had even gone to their other mothers multiple times for advice on how to approach her, but all they gave were sad smiles with the words: “Thena knows she is loved deeply, and she loves deeply in return… but she has despair etched into the walls of her heart that makes it hard to accept. She loves you four very much but is terrified that you will not understand who she is at her core: a very troubled and damaged woman. It will take time, which, luckily, is something we have an abundance of.”

After that conversation, the girls decided they would give their mother all the time she needed to feel safe opening up to them.

Around thirty years ago, on one of their joint trips home, Athenodora had come and sat with them all out in the garden. She did not speak to them; they did not speak to her, but her quiet presence was enough to make hope bloom in their hearts.

Since then, she has made sure to always sit with them at least once in the garden on their visits to the castle, and every so often, she quietly explains the etymology of the flowers she had planted in the gorgeous space—all of which were either poisonous or related to pain and death.

Getting to know her is a beautiful thing. They just hope that Isabella is the missing piece that will make her tortured heart heal that final bit.

The drive to the airport after that was smooth and easy. Their jet was ready for their arrival, and they carefully carried their sleeping human on board, making sure not to jostle her too much in fear of waking her. Irina, the natural nurturer of their group, settled Isabella onto her lap, where the girl curled up and gripped at Irina’s clothes in an apparent effort to get as close to her as possible.

They were off the ground and on their way home in no time, and all four blondes listened to the steady breathing of their mate in quiet contentment.

Isabella’s heart and breathing rate picked up around four hours into their journey, and all of the Denalis sat up straighter as their mate began to wake up. She blinked her eyes open slowly, then almost immediately shut them as the light hit.

Kate was quick to lower all blinds and turn off all lights at the speed only a vampire could, desperate to bring her mate relief. Isabella sighed in gratitude, then opened her eyes again, squinting at the three cuddled-up women across from her.

“Cuddling without me is no fair,” Isabella grumbled.

Her sleep-laden voice was low and raspy, and almost simultaneously, the vampires felt their eyes darken in want.

God, she’s ethereal.

That was the general thought running through their heads. Quite a few other thoughts were present as well, but they would not be appropriate to act upon at the moment.

Tanya chuckled, the husky quality of it catching the attention of all of her mates.

“We wanted you and Irina to have all the space you needed to sleep comfortably, môj miláčik.”

Isabella shifted on Irina’s lap, and the blonde could barely hold back the desire-filled growl begging to claw its way out of her throat.

“Tanya, you can’t say things in that tone and then expect me to not want to jump your bones.”

Immediately, the lust-filled atmosphere dissipated as Kate dissolved into full-bellied laughter, with all of the blondes following soon after.

Isabella sat with a pout on her face and her arms crossed in a poor imitation of an offended party.

“I’m serious! Don’t laugh at me—you’re too hot to be sounding like that!”

It only got worse after she said that, and Isabella sighed in resignation.

After they all calmed down, Isabella found herself staring back at the smiling faces of four incredibly attractive women.

Fuck. I can’t believe they’re mine.

Shaking herself out of her musings, Isabella leaned back into Irina’s embrace and looked around the plane cabin they currently resided in.

“How long have I been asleep exactly?”

Tanya hummed. “Around four hours or so. It seems you were far more exhausted than you let on.”

Isabella shrugged, nonchalance written all over her face. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Immediately, she could tell that her blondes were concerned.

“Why aren’t you sleeping? Is there anything we can do?”

The brunette shook her head. “No, last night was exactly what I needed. I’ll be okay for a while. Sometimes, my urges feel like they’ll tear me apart if I don’t act on them.”

The Denalis exchanged glances, quickly deciding to broach the topic now rather than later.

Surprisingly, Kate was the one to begin. “I’ll be honest, Isabella. I cannot speak for the rest, but your… hobby does not bring me any comfort. The lives and deaths of human beings became irrelevant to us long ago. We can all confidently say that humans are vile creatures for whom we have very little sympathy. I will love you until the end of time, but I have to make peace with this side of you. Not because of your actions, but because of the danger they could put you in. No matter how careful you are, one little slip could put your life at immense risk.”

Kate paused, looking at Tanya, who nodded solemnly. When she turned back to Isabella, there was an unreadable glint in her eyes, her fingers beginning to twitch. Kate continued before the conversation could spiral.

“We will not stop you from engaging in your hobby. In fact, there may be times when we wish to join you—to understand you. But know this: if there ever comes a time when we perceive a threat to your life, we will do whatever we deem necessary to keep you safe. Whether that means dealing with the threat ourselves or… changing you to minimize said threat.”

The ominous look in their mate’s eyes was replaced with confusion.

“Change me? What do you mean, change me?”

Rosalie finally spoke up. “Darling, you know we are not human… though we once were. Our current forms are far more durable than that of a human, and our beasts are begging for us to change you—to make you one of us, to remove any possibility of you being injured in your fragile form.”

“So why don’t you do it?”

That stopped them all short. What was stopping them?

“I believe, my dear, that we would like you to learn the details of our existence from those much older and wiser than us. So you understand the full extent of what you are now involved in.”

Isabella sat with Irina’s softly spoken words while her other blondes looked at her with mild panic. She pondered over their diatribe.

It seemed that, no matter what, she would soon no longer be human… but something more. The thought was appealing. She had always known she was meant for more than just being another part of the human race. She was destined for greater things—and she would find them with these beautiful women by her side.

“Okay.”

Silence. Baffled silence.

“…Okay? Okay, what, Isabella?” Tanya asked tentatively.

“Okay to you changing me after I learn more about your world. But I do have something to say.”

“Yes, anything!” Kate replied enthusiastically, obviously relieved they hadn’t scared her away.

“It is not a hobby. It’s art. You don’t have to understand it—most people never will—but you do have to understand that it is a part of who I am. I am used to being an outsider, to people not understanding me. And I’ve never cared because I couldn’t care less about what they think of me. But I ask that you try.”

Rosalie’s voice was strong and passionate. “We do. We will. And we would never force you to change a part of yourself. But we do know someone who may understand and comfort you in a way we don’t have the knowledge to.”

“Mmm, and who would that be?”

“The oldest living vampire in existence,” Kate said, pride lacing her words.

“Our mother,” Irina added.

“One of our mothers,” Tanya corrected pointedly.

“She’s quite scary,” Irina chuckled.

“But very protective of what she considers hers,” Rosalie added, a smile forming as she thought of the woman they clearly revered highly.

“Well… we have that in common at least—the desire to protect you all,” Isabella said with a grin.

“Yes… I think you may find you have more in common than you think.”

Whatever that meant, Isabella could tell her life was about to be utterly and completely changed by this trip to Italy.

“When do we land?”

Tanya quickly glanced at her watch—a watch Isabella, as a collector of fine timepieces, could tell had cost thousands of dollars. At least these goddesses knew their worth.

“Another seven hours or so. You may want to get more rest—we’ll wake you when we land.”

It was then that Isabella realized she truly was still exhausted. The sleepless nights of tossing and turning were catching up to her.

“Rest now, môja láska. We are here. You’re no longer alone.”

In what felt like a single second, Isabella fell back into a peaceful sleep, curled up in Irina’s arms. Rosalie quietly made her way to the other couch, squeezing herself into the embrace. Her cold body draped over Isabella’s ensured their human mate wouldn’t overheat. Quickly, Tanya and Kate also moved over, settling on the floor with their heads resting against their girls on the couch.

Love was all they could feel as they basked in this peaceful moment, knowing that once they got home, their lives were only going to become far more turbulent than they were prepared for.

Back in Forks…

The forest surrounding the Cullen estate was eerily silent, as if the wildlife could feel the tension radiating from within its walls. Carlisle Cullen stood with his back to his family, gazing out the glass walls at the nature surrounding them as he contemplated what he had just heard.

Isabella Swan.

His hands, held behind his back, tightened their grip on each other as he thought about the little parasitic human who had come and gone from his territory—a human disconcerting enough to put his family into a state of unease. The corner of his lip lifted in a display of disgust.

“Edward. You said this girl… disquiets you?”

“I can’t hear her at all, Carlisle. The first time our eyes met, I heard this voice, but it sounded wrong—”

“Wrong how?”

“It was warped. Like… like I was hearing it through TV static! But it said, ‘don’t look at me,’ and then it was as if she was a blind spot.”

The perfect skin between Carlisle’s eyebrows wrinkled in frustration. How could this human block the powers of his most valuable tools? A shield, perhaps?

“She has caught Rosalie’s attention.”

At that, Carlisle’s metaphorical ears perked up. He turned around and locked eyes with Jasper. Their stare-off was so intense that Emmett shifted in unease. The biggest member of the Cullen coven began to fear what the existence of Isabella Swan would mean not only for his future but for his entire family.

“What does Rosalie Volturi want with a human?”

“It has never been very overt, but I can feel her emotions become even more false when that human is in her vicinity. I’ve known since I met her that with her age came ways to circumvent my gift, but it becomes much more obvious when Isabella is in the room. She doesn’t want me to know how she feels around her, but she’s always watching her.”

Carlisle pondered in silence for a long while, his face a neutral mask not easily penetrated, but Edward knew what he was thinking, and he froze.

“Carlisle… you can’t be thinking of—”

“Quiet. I have a call to make.”

The coven leader calmly walked across the living room and up the stairs, leaving his family in confused silence. Esme looked up the stairs where her husband had disappeared and wrung her hands in an unnecessarily nervous habit. She could feel something shifting, something coming, and she had no clue how it would end.

All she knew was that it would be nothing good.

Suddenly, Alice gasped, her eyes going hazy as a vision took hold of her. At that moment, they heard Carlisle’s voice from upstairs in his study.

“Yes, hello, Laurent. It’s Carlisle Cullen. Would you, James, and Victoria be interested in playing a game with me once again?”

They arrived in Volterra under the shroud of night. The cobblestone streets were empty except for the occasional beggar or drunkard stumbling home after drowning their sorrows. Isabella could see it in the women walking a step ahead of her—how free they felt simply existing in this space.

They had taken her home.

A strange twist in her chest left her confused. She didn’t know how to process what this meant to her at this moment. She didn’t know how to process how much she had come to mean to these women in such a short amount of time. Their steps were swift, promises to go sightseeing at a later date already having been made.

“My darling, we wish for nothing more than to show you the beauty of this city, but for now, we have important business to see through and important things to inform you of.”

Tanya had told her this on the drive from the small airport a few cities away. The speed at which all of these women drove would have been concerning if Isabella had been normal. She felt nothing but exhilaration as the convertible made it possible for the wind to whip through her hair.

Eventually, their trek led the five women around a corner, and suddenly, Isabella’s breath was stolen from her lungs. They stood in the heart of the town, a large fountain soothingly running in the middle, and there, just on a hill beyond the city limits, stood a massive castle. A draw came from within those walls, calling to her, begging for her presence. It unsettled her, and yet she wanted nothing more than to answer its call with one of her own.

“Is that where we’re going?” she asked out loud, and all she received was a mysterious smile from her goddesses. Cheeky.

They continued on in silence once more, but Irina dropped back and grasped Isabella’s warm hand in her cold one. The touch was grounding, and the brunette unconsciously leaned into Irina’s shoulder.

It wasn’t long before they stood at the gates of the castle. The large doors, which looked impossible to open for a human, groaned before proving her wrong. From the shadows within the halls of the Victorian fortress came two seemingly young, cloak-shrouded guards. It seemed like they glided on the ground rather than walked on it.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, the two figures were suddenly standing right in front of their group, and Isabella could now see that the blonde girl and brunette boy had eyes the color of crimson.

How fascinating.

Isabella began to wonder what her loves would look like with eyes that shade. A shiver of desire went up her spine.

The young blonde girl removed her cloak, revealing a face that couldn’t have been much older than thirteen. Her expression was cold and stoic, making her look almost like a statue. She bowed at the waist and raised her hand, palm up. Isabella was confused until Tanya placed her hand in the girl's, allowing the younger blonde to lift her knuckles to her lips. The boy remained still throughout the exchange, but Isabella thought she saw a small smile on his lips.

“My ladies, welcome home.”

Oh.

“Thank you, Jane and Alec. Our mothers are expecting us.”

The young guard nodded, briefly glanced at Isabella, then turned back around and walked briskly into the palace with the boy hot on her heels. Tanya, Rosalie, Irina, and Kate were quick to follow, while Isabella ended up being slightly dragged along, her and Irina’s hands still connected. She tried to take in the details of the walls as they passed, but they were walking too fast, and it was much too dark for her to really see anything.

That was until they took one too many turns, and suddenly, torches lit the hallway. Isabella saw another huge set of doors that no doubt led somewhere quite important, and something in her told her not to doubt that this young girl could open the doors that any human clearly would fail to.

She was proven correct as Jane pushed them open with ease, and Isabella added that to her constantly growing list of interesting facts about the company her goddesses kept—and were evidently a part of. As she stepped through the doors, it became clear that they had entered the throne room of the castle. At the end of the hall, on a raised platform, sat three thrones, one of which remained unoccupied. These must be the seats of the Queens of this castle. Two of them were there now, their smiles brightening their already gorgeous faces.

The blonde in the middle had a beaming grin that hinted at mischief and cunning. The brunette to her right had a much more demure smile that showed very little teeth—not from disinterest but rather from a calm, soft, and caring personality.

Something about both of these women made Isabella subtly relax on the inside. She knew deep down that they wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that and yet her eyes kept drifting to the empty throne beside them, a gnawing feeling opening up in her stomach that she couldn’t explain.

She caught Kate eyeing the seat as well before the smooth voice of the woman in the middle throne cut through the air.

“My darlings. Welcome home.”

With just a brief gust of wind against her face as proof something had shifted the woman was holding Rosalie and Kate to her in a crushing embrace. Soon after Didyme did the same to Tanya and Irina. Isabella smiled as she watched the motherly women stroke their daughter’s cheeks and nod along as they listened intently to their whispered words. For once, Isabella felt no rage or jealousy witnessing a love she had never experienced before. She was simply happy to see her girls given the love they deserve. Despite all this however, Isabella still felt like her stomach was caving in on itself, a sadness blooming she has never really experienced before and one she can’t explain.

Then, the door behind the thrones opened, and a woman strode into the hall.

Isabella met her eyes— and everything changed.

She couldn’t help but admire the power in her stride, how the air in the room seemed to drop upon her entrance, how the guards stationed throughout the room stood a little straighter. This was a woman people feared—a woman who made people fear her. And as Isabella’s gaze trailed up the woman’s form and finally met her eyes, she knew why.

The feeling in her stomach finally disappeared, her heart pounded a thousand miles a minute, and a hole in her soul she had refused to acknowledge since she was a little girl suddenly felt full.

The woman stopped abruptly mid-step, a few feet behind the other Queens, her intense gaze focused solely on Isabella. The air in the room seemed to vanish, and in that moment, all that mattered to the human was the woman before her—the woman she had unknowingly waited for all her life.

Isabella felt small again. She wrung her hands together and let a word she had rarely spoken tumble from her lips.

“Mom?”

The woman let out a furious roar that made the guards flinch—but the lone human in the room only admired it in awe.

In an instant, Athenodora had Isabella wrapped in her arms. Their faces pressed into each other’s necks, clinging, as if trying to become one. A child and her mother, finally reunited.

Two forces the vampire world had never borne witness to—but should fear—had at last become whole.

“My baby. Momma’s got you.”

Chapter Text

Hey guys!

I know this isn't what any of y'all were hoping to see BUT I can say that chapter 13 is on it's way. Gimme a few days and we'll be back in this world where Isabella and Athenodora are ready to terrorize anyone who looks at them sideways :D. Thanks for all the love and comments you guys actually keep me motivated and confident. Just wanted to pop in and tell you guys I see the comments and it is in the works.

Be patient with me, it's coming and I love you guys!