Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

‘Sometimes you need to scorch everything to the ground, and start over. After the burning the soil is richer, and new things can grow. People are like that, too. They start over. They find a way’ - Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere.

~ Isabella ~

Several years after the Cullens’ departure (approximately)

Bella panted heavily through gritted teeth as her bare feet pounded against the pavement, her shattered arm swung limply at her side. Each stride sent pain shooting down her shoulder and back and made her wince.

The sleeping city blurred around her, tall buildings blotted the greyish deep blue sky, and droplets of mist-like rain distorted her vision all the more. The rain had already soaked through her meagre, dirty clothing.

Bella zig zagged helplessly around corner after corner, dodging the creature at her back, no doubt inching ever closer by the second. Her sides burned from the extra oxygen thanks to her overworked adrenaline filled heart.

Her brown eyes tried to focus on the pavement below her feet, her ears on the eerie silence, the only noises she could clearly hear being her own rapid breathing, the slap, slap, slap of her feet against the wet ground and the piercing wails of distant emergency services. If only she could get to them. But that was a dream, and Bella Swan no longer wasted her energy on wasteful wishes like that.

Bella rounded another corner, her brain tried desperately to recall the location of her hotel room. Her nice, dry room, with freshly washed linen, her hide out for the last two months…She hoped her foggy muscle memory would kick in. She could feel she was close, if only she could push a little more. Alter some people to her distress, even this crazy being would not risk the wrath of Aro. Of the kings.

She was never really very good at crisis management, the only experience that could come close before were her rudimentary experience with self defence (thanks, Charlie) and the second hand adventures of the fictional hero’s from her beloved books. Bella had been little more than a teenage scholar; a painfully awkward, lover of solitude. She’d never been required to worry about such things as crisis management, and certainly not in relation to the supernatural world.

But of course, her relationship with Edward had ruptured that illusion, and thrust her into his world. Into their world.

So she ran. And she fought. And she bled. And she got up and gritted her teeth, for if Isabella Swan learned anything about herself in the weeks and months post-Cullen-abandonment, it was that she had a fucking resilient stubbornness in her broken heart.

Bella groaned as she came to an abrupt halt, her chest heaved violently as she tried to gather her wandering thoughts.

“Fuck” she muttered. Bella glared up at the sky, the rain poured down mercilessly, and the moon watched on. She briefly mused whether, on this night, it would finally witness her demise.

She bit her lip. Hard.

Her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings. A dankly lit alleyway, tall buildings at either side hid her from view of the main city road she’d ran down. A lamppost flickered orangey yellow light on the opposite side, the only really light source.

“After everything? This? Really!” She shouted at the sky. Her nostrils flared with frustration. Still, the sky watched on, seemingly unamused. Bella knew there was little use in hiding, the vengeful creature, her torturer, was mere moments from her, following her bloodied, fear-filled scent. Of that she had no doubt. She knew how this creature worked, how it craved the hunt. In fact, it was all a game to it. On some level Bella knew this and she fought onwards anyway.

“That was rude” the sing-song voice echoed behind her, had Bella not known otherwise, she’d have thought the voice of an angel had greeted her. Bella sighed and turned slowly, almost theatrically so. There, at the bottom of the dank, dirty street stood her .

Victoria.

Hair aflame and face contorted in veiled anger and mild amusement. Bella laughed, somewhat manically. Her many wounds, some weeks old, screamed at her now. The adrenaline could do only so much for her, and it would seem she’d finally reached her expiration date, so it would seem, her body was surrendering. She wanted to scream, but she knew it’d do little for her cause.

“I admit, I didn’t think you’d run. I’ve not been surprised in many, many years” the voice purred as she made her way towards Bella with a leisurely stroll.

“Fuck you” Bella spat. The creature laughed, head thrown back heartily.

“So many creatures fought for you Isabella…the shifters” she could see the woman’s crinkled nose from where she stood, Bella bit the inside of her cheek to keep her from crying. She would not cry. But her eyes filled with traitorous tears all the same.

“there’s the human police force of course, surprisingly resourceful I’ll admit” Bella couldn’t fight the tears from escaping her eyes at that comment, this of course, delighted the creature, who’s red eyes glimmered with glee.

“And he,” she stepped closer, Bella could clearly see her red dress, clinging to her beautiful, deadly body, “he still didn’t come for you. How pitiful a creature you are, that your mate would abandon you to face this alone” she gestured to herself with a menacing grin on her gorgeous face, Bella stepped back slightly, she knew it was futile but it was human instinct.

“He’s not my mate, I told you!” Bella gritted out, pain laced her heart at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. The man - the creature - who’d left her for dead, not once, but twice .

“I know” Victoria said simply, almost bored. Bella stared at the vampire, her eyes widened at the creatures nonchalant shrug. In all her time with her, she’d been adamant that Bella had been left behind by her mate. A fate worse than death, unimaginable for her kind, so she’d claimed. Despite Bella’s vehement rejection of this claim, for how could a mate, a soulmate, leave his love behind without a second glance backwards? It hadn’t felt right to Bella, though she was young and inexperienced and blissfully, vulnerably, human …

“That boy was never your mate, I knew it for certain when he did not check on you in the years after he left. I waited for him to come.” Bella glared at her captor. Yet, it didn’t stop the woman from hurting her… from… Bella shook her head.

“Then, why?! Why didn’t you leave me be, Victoria?” She asked disparagingly.

“Because dear Isabella, a debt had to be paid. And when so many fought to keep you alive… well it would seem my dearly departed James was correct in that you were a fun hunt after all” her red eyes flickered with amusement.

Bella shifted and felt her back hit a shattered window, shards of glass stabbed at her feet. She quickly bent down and gripped at a large shard, it cut into her hand but she held it tighter. Victoria giggled, her tone gleeful, her nose flared slightly and Bella could see her fangs eagerly poking out from her painted red lips.

“Oh you’re so fun, I’ll be sad to end our little game!” The vampire pouted mockingly.

“I’ll see you in hell Victoria, I swear I will see you again, and when I do, you’ll fucking pay for what you’ve done.” Victoria’s head tilted to the side, calculating like the predator she was. Her face remained slightly amused, and held a new note of confusion.

Bella briefly felt sad. Sad she’d never see Charlie again, sad she’d never finish college or get a doctorate, sad she’d never read another book or learn anything new. For she loved learning above all else. So deeply sad she’d never have another barbecue at the Res with Jacob and Leah and their pack. She sincerely hoped they were all safe. Sad she’d never have sex again! Her limited experience was boring at best, and depressing at worst. Plus, she’d never explored her lingering interest in women. And sad for the life that was taken from her at the premature age of 24 all because a selfish vampire wanted to play with her heart, as a guise to test his restraint.

After fighting for months, Isabella decided that she was surprisingly sad to find herself about to die, finally. For she would refuse to become a vampire, and despite the tortures she’d faced under Victoria’s games of hunting her and then eventually, actually torturing her. Funny, how her perspective had changed.

How she’d yearned to be a vampire, to have forever with her Edward. How she’d torn herself into a million pieces right after they’d left! How gullible, how weak of her. But she’d put her pieces back together thanks to her family and friends, for her new appreciation for the life she was building in New York; all for what?

Alas, Bella Swan’s life would amount to little more than a big elaborate game. First Edwards (and by extension his families) and then, Victoria’s.

She had wanted nothing more than to die when Victoria finally got her claws onto her all those weeks ago. When time seemed to still and her body was broken and then healed and broken again, in a cycle of brutal, meticulous and callus pain at the hands of an evil creature with red flaming hair. Oh, she’d craved the blissful silence of death, having long since given up on rescue.

Now? She’d have liked to have lived. Bella’s relentless tears blocked most of her view now, the stoic city around her seemed to quiet, waiting restlessly for her to finally be struck down.

Another nameless, unidentifiable vampire victim to fall within the bones of the large city. Or maybe Victoria would leave her body intact? Just to hurt all the more. That was more her style anyway. She stumbled back as Victoria glowered at her, her familiar amusement danced in her cold red eyes.

Bella smiled sadly, and pointedly glared at the suddenly surprised vampire.

“Fuck you” she whispered.

And with her eyes slammed shut, she quickly and swiftly plunged the long shard of glass into the centre of her chest…

Bella waited and waited for the darkness to welcome her home to its greedy outstretched arms. For her tortured broken body to finally cease its constant hurting. For her mind to quiet and to find peace. A thoughtless, seamless slip into the afterlife - or nothingness. She waited for her swirling thoughts and aches to cease, for her heart to stop its hummingbird hammering in her chest.

She waited and waited and waited . The silence made her feel uneasy and really, how long would she need to wait in this deafening silence to finally be able to rest? It was starting to piss her off actually.

“Isabella Swan, I have a proposition for you young one” a voice, an echo really, that lacked either the usual deeper male tone or higher female lilt.

“What?” She asked, dumbfounded.

“I have searched a long, long time for another potential bond-mate. I can try this with you, before you transition into your death, I will warn you it will be excruciating and it may not be successful” The voice said.

“What?” She repeated, half intrigued and half perplexed. (Mostly the latter)

“I sensed you did not wish to die. Your eagerness to live and learn, it spoke to me. If we bond, the transition will take many days. Though you may never wake, for it is a  trying and deeply complex transition. Should you wake, we will be one. There will be no place where you exist, where I do not”

“What is your name? Are you, are you good?” She asked, desperate for a chance, however small.

“I do not have a name, or if I did, I do not remember it. I am older than most creatures on this earth” the voice answered, “I do not have feel the range of emotions as you may, this is something I must learn. I have never successfully bonded, so if we survive the attempt, we will both learn much. I am neither good, nor bad. My species were explorers, you may call us scholars. I may be the last of my kind now.” The voice seemed pained and Bella felt a pang of sadness, she couldn’t imagine being so alone.

“Indeed young one, it is a lonely existence, and this will be my final attempt at bonding” the voice said in answer to her emotions.

“What will happen?” She asked apprehensively.

“If we bond successfully, you will enter a state of transition, where we will exchange memories, knowledge and your physical body will change to accommodate your new state of being. We will be in unimaginable pain; then, all being well, we will wake. And we will learn the rest together. There is much to explain but I’m afraid, we are running out of time, young one, I am sorry you have to rush this decision, but you must decide now.” The voice finished, a sad smile in their tone. Bella observed as an outline of what could only be described as raw energy, flashed gold and green. Bella squinted and her eyes widened when she saw a clearer outline of some sort of body.

“It’s this or death,” she said, not tagging on what she felt ‘and don’t want to die’. “Let’s try this”

“Are you certain?”

“I am” she said with uncertain conviction.

“Then let us begin, young one” the voice said, the energy flickered again and she felt a sudden surge of anxiety and apprehension, as well as a flash of excitement which did not feel like her own.

Then incomprehensible pain, worse than anything she’d ever felt, even vampire venom, with its burning pain - but this, endless, scorching agony tore and overtook her body and mind.

She was trapped in it, drowning in the burning embers of agony so profound, she wished to pass out. A sudden feeling of sadness flashed inside her and she knew that it was not from herself. She leaned into the feeling, into the almost caress, instead of repelling it, as it brought her some strange comfort, in knowing that she was not alone in this strange transition.

If this is successful , she thought with an uncertain smile, I will never be alone again. It should scare her, terrify her, after everything she’s seen, every heartache, every time her body was broken. Instead, it was a calming thought.

And It was her last comprehensible thought before she succumbed to the unyielding pain…

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

~ Isabella ~

(20 years later)

“If one more person, supernatural or otherwise, interrupts me at this ungodly hour, I swear to all the deities, I will burn them alive” Isabella muttered around the rim of her lukewarm coffee mug. The morning black coffee was a preference she’d retained after….everything. It had comforted her greatly during her first decade and now, after a further decade, it was a treasured habit. Amusement tickled her mind, like the softest caress.

“Not one word from you, Orion” familiar tinkling laughter echoed in her mind and she rolled her eyes, half-heartedly shutting the channel to the dear friend sharing her mind, body and soul. The friend who’d altered her life forever.

After just under two decades of time to adjust to the feeling of sharing her body - for there was no part of her that was not theirs and vice versa - Isabella was accustomed to the strange feeling of otherness .

She’d given xe the name ‘Orion’, as it soon became apparent her not knowing what to call them in their formative relationship had complicated the situation. Given she’d been informed Orion was from another world entirely, she’d chosen her favourite constellation as their name, given xe did not care either way. And explained she’d continue to utilise gender neutral pronouns in respect of Orion’s otherworldly origins and complex emotions. Emotions xe was learning to express through her and usually at random intervals of the day.

She absently turned her right wrist and hand over, and stared at her newest contract, the black and grey inked tattoo of winding vines adorned with tiny intricate symbols (which were a whole complex language) most would not clearly see, wrapped around her wrist and down to her fingers. Pretty little fine lined flowers decorated the vines. As she tilted her hand palm up, she noted the centre of the tattoo, a thicker lined black outline of a beautiful tree, faintly glow at the centre of her palm.

“Did they really have to make it glow?” She grumbled as her foot tapped against the bed. “I like it, and of course the fae would need to embed some of their magic into it, given we know it’s that or blood, depending on the species, but the glowing ? It’ll be annoying to hide even from humans” she huffed. Her cell suddenly blared angrily on the side table. She paused her ministrations and glared at the blaring thing.

“Dr. Swan” she answered grumpily by way of greeting, the amusement she knew was certainly not her own.

“Ah, Isabella. I’m not waking you am I?” The

soft voice enquired, though she knew the owner of said voice did not care whether he’d woken her or not. Besides, they both knew she didn’t need to sleep nightly, it was another habit she’d adopted from her human life.

She did need some sleep, but an hour or two would suffice, and she enjoyed the dream conversation she had with Orion, since they couldn’t (or didn’t) speak during her waking hours.

She’d slept for two whole years after those first few days of transition, having woken briefly to move into a secluded area, with Orion’s guidance, so they could complete the rest of the transformation and properly communicate. It had felt like hours to her, but when she’d woken, the date had startled her.

So much so, she’d slipped on some loose gravel and tumbled to the forest floor, she’d stared in amazement as the little cuts and bruises immediately healed away. It was the first time she’d realised that she’d not dreamt it all in an attempt to escape Victoria’s cruel torture. She shook her head from her memories at the gentle caress in her mind. She considered this one of Orion’s attempts at comfort; she was not that human, nor was she alone. She half smiled and nodded as she fiddled with her mug.

“Thanks O” she mumbled, “Aro, what can I do for you?” A familiar sense of dread settled in her stomach, she usually got whenever the unpredictable vampire king called on her.

“Straight to business? Very well, I have a potential situation that may require your expertise” Isabella sighed, and her fingers absently tapped against the mug. Aro remained silent.

“What, exactly is this situation ?” She asked.

“How soon can you get to North America?” Aro enquired.

“How north are we talking?” She stared out of her window, the bright sun of London shone thorough her hotel curtains.

“Haines, Alaska” Isabella silently shivered, she hated the cold and then a sudden dread rose in her rapidly beating heart.

“Alaska? Can’t you send the Denali’s?” She asked hopefully, the cheeky grin of Kate graced her memories and she shivered.

“No, I need your expertise, although I may ask Tanya to send a representative” Aro outwardly pondered.

“God no, I don’t need a representative” especially not from that coven, she thought grimly. Kate’s sad golden eyes flashed into her mind and she grimaced. She shifted uncomfortably in bed seat and Aro laughed.

“If you insist, I will send you more information on the location to your email and will arrange the necessary travel”

“Aro… you need to…”

“Apologies, such a strange arrangement. You do fascinate, Isabella” Aro clicked his tongue and cleared his throat unnecessarily, she could clearly envisage his curious red eyes sparkle in the way they did when Aro was particular ‘fascinated’ by something new. “I am calling upon your services Isabella Swan, as per the conditions of our contract” Aro said with practiced confidence. “Did it work?” He asked curiously, she could practically feel his giddy excitement through the device held at her ear. She rolled her eyes and bid him to hold on while she checked.

She felt a slight burn on the back of her neck and quickly pulled her short hair to the side to inspect her neck in the mirror. The tattoo Aro had commissioned; the Voltori crest, hidden within a small castle, the tattoo no bigger than an common bottle top.

Her second contract, gained over a decade prior, represented the vampires, given the Volturi claimed governance of their entire race, a magical contract was drawn up with Isabella over several weeks and the ink was embedded with a drop of blood from each king and queen.

She peered at the tiny tattoo, and her eyes widened as she noted it glowing faintly a deep crimson red. Human eyes would not be able to see it, but it was clear as day to her, and it was so pretty .

“It worked” she said simply, “how long will you require my assistance?”

“Ah, that’s the question dear Isabella” the king said, almost dismissing her question in that frustrating way he did.

“Aro… I have to teach my classes in September. There’s planning and quizzes to prepare” she said through gritted teeth, she’d hardly been able to enjoy the few weeks of her summer break thus far. She’d had to help quash a rebellion amongst a shifter pack in London and then she’d finalised the contract with the most elusive and secretive species of supernatural she’d had yet encountered. The fae were absolutely enthralling and Isabella had greatly enjoyed her time in their realm. However taxing it’d been.

“It shouldn’t take all summer, just something small really. But I need your particular expertise and thoughts on the issue. If you please” Aro said and she knew there was little use in arguing back. A lot of the tasks she’d helped the strange king with were small and most didn’t really require her specialism; knowledge and neutrality.

It was true that Aro Volturi was truly fascinated by Isabella Swan and her strange new state of being. So much so, he’d had her practically accosted and tortured for a few months when he’d first discovered her. She shivered at the memory of needles breaking before they touched her arm, of her bones being broken and healed, and the many scientists who’d fussed and had been left perplexed by the strange creature.

Aro had breezed in her rooms one day and declared he wanted to finally hear more about herself from the source, having ignored her protests up to that point. She’d spent another 6 months with the kings and queens, and their guard as they finalised their own contract in painstaking detail as she learnt about their court and laws.   

“Fine” she acquiesced as she gripped her cold coffee and tipped it into the sink.

“Excellent, I’ll have that email sent now” Isabella hung up on the king, knowing he’d find her frustration amusing.

The bitter wind whipped around her face, as she zoomed past the Alaskan scenery, her gorgeous motorbike growled as she reached speeds that were most certainly illegal. Her helmet had been discarded for the last hour so she could feel the earth whiz by and caress her.

She toed the gear up and grinned manically when she sped up, the air so cold and her strange heart hammering so fast in her chest that had she been human she’d probably have died from a heart attack or frostbite.

After a further hour of travel she finally saw a sign for a little town she could stop at to rest. She’d been travelling for hours and hours and she’d grown tired of the monotony of it, especially given she couldn’t properly stop to explore certain areas of her interests. She’d known for certain a snow leopard shifter pack were close by and wanted desperately to make their acquaintance. Her gift and curse of endless curiosity for all things folklore and supernatural were constantly battling with her need to get shit done.

Besides , she mused as her loose light brown hair, with colours of copper woven in, whipped by her as she drove, I need a hot shower and a decent meal.

In one second she was driving at impossible speeds and the next she was careening through the Alaskan sky, her poor bike skidding to a stop after a mile of sliding on its side. She met the earth with a loud thud, and felt her reddish golden blood drip down her side, her bones already snapping back into place. Her heart stopped.

“The fuck?” She questioned as she sat blinking at the side of the road. She grimaced down at her shredded riding leathers, a sleeve dangled from her outstretched arm. Her visible tattoos glimmered. “Fuck fuck fuck” she frantically reached for her phone and sighed when she pulled out the crumpled mess in her pocket.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck” she screamed at the sky.

The run to town took the rest of the day and all night, even though she was going at her enhanced speeds, she didn’t want to cause further damage to her beloved custom built vintage bike. She’d re-built it with Jacob and Leah in Forks and it was all she had left of her the human time she’d spent with them. Of her unknowingly allowing them to begin to heal parts of her broken heart during the summer she’d spent with Charlie after completing the first year of her undergraduate degree at NYU.

She hobbled out of habit into the meagre (albeit pretty) quant town, she though must be smaller than Forks. She made towards the centre of the town and followed the signs to the local bar, Orion practically rolled their eyes at her.

“Not to drink dummy, I need help with my bike. And if we don’t get a working cell soon - all of our clients will start looking for us.” She gestured to the still glowing pets of her exposed body. She’d been able to communicate with some, the creatures who did not use modern technology and had built a comms system into their magic. But some factions such as the shifters, witches and vampire kings would require an actual telephone call. She groaned and hoped they’d be chill. Amusement danced in her mind and she sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, that’ll teach me for being careless with my bike” she agreed petulantly.

She stepped into the dimly lit room, only a few tables were occupied and every eye fell onto her, and suddenly widened. She sighed through her nose and walked to the bar and sat on a wonky stool.

“Are you alright ma’am?” The bar tender, a beautiful young woman, with a small French lilt to her accent asked. Her blue eyes worriedly scanning her pristine milky tan skin, for ingury. Her gaze shortly morphed into confusion as she observed no signs of bodily harm, and instead focused on the patches of skin with strange but beautiful tattoos.

Despite Isabella’s tattered leathers exposing further parts of her inked flesh, indicating she’d been in some kind of scuffle. The girls eyes finally rested and lingered unnecessarily on her chest and the lack of ink there. Isabella immediately inhaled the faint and tell tale scent of arousal and she smiled sheepishly as the girls cheeks blushed pink.

“Thank you, I’m okay. I just need an Inn and a good mechanic” she said with a kind smile. “Oh and a cell, mine is busted” she practically pouted and the girls blush deepened.

“Of course. There’s an inn at the end of this road and then take a sharp left. They always have spare rooms.” The girl gestured with her eyes, “and there’s a really great mechanic nearby, I have the number on the notice bored somewhere, ah” she’d turned to glance at the busy notice boated lbw the wall at the end of the bar, before she plunked a crumpled card from it snd handed it over to Isabella. “Here you are. There’s a pay phone back there, and you can buy a simple model at the tech shop in town tomorrow morning. It’s closed now” the girls smile was wide and reached her big blue eyes.

“Mechanic will be around tomorrow morning, and the Inn manager will be out at this time for his supper, he should be back in an hour or so. Can I get you a drink in the meantime?” Isabella grumbled and nodded.

“Thanks” Isabella said sincerely. “I’ll take an Old Fashioned please”. She settled in her seat and crossed a leg over the other and smiled warmly as the woman made her drink, making chit chat about why she’d ended up in such a small town (passing through), and her tattered clothes (fight with a bear).

Isabella gripped the tumbler glass and sipped as the drink, enjoying the slight burn in her throat, before the sound of the door being opened met her ears.

As the doors finally swung open, the scent of honey, jasmine and a faint underlying smell of oil not unpleasant but odd, met her nose. She almost smashed the glass in her hand as the alluring smell got closer to her. Her heart skyrocketed in her chest, the useless organ that it was.

Isabella clenched her jaw and sat completely still, terrified of moving, she would normally be wary of her mannerisms given her need to blend into the human world… but she was gripped with fear. Feelings of unease and confusion from Orion slowly filtered into her heart. She quickly shut their channel, too afraid of her own emotions. She’d deal with her friend later.

She felt more than saw a feminine figure glide up to the bar and heard the apprehensive greetings from the bar tender.

“The usual Rosalie?”

“What?” That voice . It was like a prayer. A sweet caress. Isabella sucked in an uncomfortable breath and shut her eyes.

“Virgin strawberry mimosa, with a spritz of lemon?” The girl tried shyly.

“Oh, yes please” the woman - for Isabella knew this voice was wholly feminine - said beside her. “Your clothes are ruined” the angelic voice mused beside her, matter of factor and she had to mentally slap herself to realise that the woman was in fact, talking to her.

“Run in with a bear” Isabella replied evenly, as she stirred the straw in her half empty glass. The woman puffed a half hearted laugh.

“Is that so?” Isabella merely nodded, “poor bear” she added, the hint of amusement in her tone had Isabella turning her head towards her.

As rich brown met deep gold, Isabella swallowed uncomfortably. The woman was stunning, her figure beautifully curvy, her porcelain perfect skin held no blemishes and her full lips were drawn in a surprised ‘o’. Long blonde hair cascaded down her back and curled at the ends, the colour like the spun golden straw. Her heart shaped face seemed to flash with a million different emotions as the woman finished her own appraisal of Isabella’s face. Her head tilted adorably as her eyes roamed her slightly unusual tattoos.

“Isabella” she offered with a slight incline of her head and grin.

“Rosalie” the beautiful woman responded,  her pretty face seemed torn between interest and apprehension. A slight quirk to her lip was there and gone instantly, but it brought Isabella a soft smile to her lips.

Rosalie. Rosalie. Rosalie.

Isabella thought it was a beautiful name, befitting the sensual creature before her. She somehow controlled her heart to a respectable rhythm, although it was slightly off kilter anyway and would have human doctors worriedly doing scan after scan to figure out why she wasn’t dead.

It’s not like she could come out with the fact she was Made into something else entirely. fusing her DNA, body, memories and soul with an ancient complex being that afforded her several gifts and oddities that they’d not find in their scientific journals or great institutions.

“Another Old Fashioned?” The bartender enquired, her cheeks dusted pink at Isabella’s flirtatious grin. She caught Rosalie’s eyebrow as it tilted upward and the slight clench of her teeth.

“Thanks” she said, ignoring the slight animosity from the blonde woman beside her. As the bartender flitted away towards another customer Isabella faced the woman beside her and gave her an easy smirk.

“So, do you play pool?” She asked, the woman’s lip curled into a wicked smile and it had Isabella’s heart beating uncontrollably. Touché. She wanted to say. She scanned the mostly empty bar, smiled at the blonde and picked up her drink.

“Let’s see what you can do with those hands of yours blondie” Isabella flirted, her eyes no doubt dancing with mirth. Rosalie tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder, grabbed her drink, and walked towards the back of the dimly lit room, towards the old pool table Isabella had clocked when she’d first came in.

As Rosalie took the cue stick on her way she glanced behind her and grinned cheekily at Isabella from across the room.

“Be careful what you wish for Isabella” the slightly husky teasing tone had Isabella practically swooning.

Who was this stranger and how did she command so much of my attention? She wondered, she decidedly ignored the slight tapping in her mind, the gentle frustrations of Orion to allow their emotions and musings to fuse once more. It was rare Isabella shut them out, but she somehow needed this. She didn’t know why, but as she stalked toward the woman, with the honey glazed eyes and painted red lips, she knew she wanted to find out.

And she’d do so tonight.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

‘Villainous kitty queen, she's got tricks up her sleeve. And I got a few up mine

She said, "Am I bad to the bone 'cause I get what I want?"

Mama said it ain't no crime.

She don't wanna be anybody else.

She's a woman in total control of herself’ - W.I.T.C.H by Devin Cole

~ Rosalie ~

“Bitch” had Rosalie been human with weak hearing, that comment would have swept away with the wind. As it were, she was a vampire with exquisite hearing - amongst other exquisite factors.

“I’m sorry?” Rosalie narrowed her eyes in an expression that she knew promised death.

“Oh, uh, n-nothing” the man muttered. Rosalie rolled her eyes inwardly and tapped a foot, donned in her signature Louboutin heel, on the concrete shop floor. The tap, tap, tap sound ran alongside the lazy dripping of a leaking faucet somewhere in the back room.

“How much for the parts?” She repeated, the man appraised her body once more, his arousal blaring up her nose. In all her many years, the inherent stupidity of most of humanity (reserved primarily for the male of the species) should startle Rosalie. Perhaps it should be a testament to her extraordinary control, that their sheer stupidity and audacity hadn’t turned Rosalie Hale into a serial killer.

She regularly danced on the line of such a possibility, especially in conjunction with her superior ability to control her inner vampiric desires. Honestly, she should be given some kind of reward. A big obnoxious gold medal perhaps? Presented by the Voltori royal family themselves, before their whole ridiculous court. Carlisle and Edward’s mandatory presence for such a ceremony alone would be the best reward, those prissy fools would be furious at her. She could picture it clear as the grovelling, horny mechanic before her:

Edward, with his perfectly styled copper hair and calculating eyes, and Carlisle, with his wariness of the Volturi, golden eyes wide as saucers - watching in trepidation as Rosalie Lillian Hale was presented a medal of recognition for her superior control of her instincts and sheer force of will. Better than both of the self-assured vampires. 

She’d be clad in an immaculately tailored (red, of course) designer dress, maybe Prada, blonde hair curled and styled just so. Her perfect skin slightly shimmering to add that extra layer of unnecessary beauty and otherworldliness to her beautiful, deadly body. A seven-watt smile, fangs on full display, as she approached the Kings throne and she would graciously accept the most prestigious (and hard earned) reward.

“I can’t go lower than $2600” and just like that, her bubble of smugness from her elaborate daydream was popped by the confused and impatient mechanic. She wiped the smile from her painted red lips, and arched a brow at him.

“Tell me, John is it?” She asked with faux civility, the gruff looking man shifted on his booted feet under her signature glare - she was of course, referring to his dirty name badge.

“Tell me John, do you believe me to be stupid?” His eyes widened comically at this, like one of those kids cartoons, the one with the weird roadrunner creature - she held up a single finger to silence his stuttering “It is a genuine question, because I’ve stood here for several minutes, telling you the exact motor parts I require to upgrade my custom vehicle - that I built myself,  shocking I know - with simple terms that even you, with your rudimentary understanding of mechanical operations, should understand” the mans mouth dropped open into a lovely satisfying ‘o’.

“I-I, well, see the parts you, er, asked for, they’re…” his heart jackhammered in his chest. He’d been caught in his lies, and he no doubt realised this. Like a mouse falling into a cats waiting claws. 

“Your incoherent muttering is counter productive, and I do not have all day.” This was a lie of course, she had infinite days, but she would not waste a single more minute under the gaze of this chauvinistic  pig “ I will pay $1800 for the parts, because that is what they are worth and this includes a reasonable profit. Yes?” the mechanic merely nodded, throat suddenly dry, “I’ll have my assistant pay the invoice if you send it to her, the account will be under Hale” the man swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Before the imbecile could irritate her further, having already insulted her with his lack of manners and professionalism, in addition to his sexism - Rosalie had had enough. She pointedly rolled her eyes at his shocked expression, spun on her expensive heels and sashayed towards the door. A flash of biting his neck and draining him dry flashed into her mind, she gritted her teeth. 

GOLD FUCKING MEDAL!

“And John?” She turned her head, her hand rested on the door handle and the itch to verbally slap him further was too great for her to ignore.  Well, no one was wholly perfect , “I suggest that next time your misogynistic idiocy overtakes your senses, you swiftly apologise profusely . Oh and do send Malcolm my regards” Malcolm of course was the owner of the garage, and John’s boss. Malcolm would be mortified at how his staff had treat his highest paying client. She waited briefly until this acknowledgement flashed in his grey eyes and the pungent smell of his fear filled her nose.

With a firm nod, Rosalie flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving John a serpentine smile, before gliding out of the door with a satisfied spring to her step.

“Hello, Emmett” she greeted into her cell warmly - well, warm for Rose anyway. She stepped from the garage and noticed the sun finally retreating from its perch in the sky.

She walked at a quick human speed down the small towns Main Street, quant family run businesses lined up and down either side. With the beautiful picturesque Alaskan mountains framing the backdrop. She smiled at the sight, it really was a beautiful place in this world.

“Rosalie! How are you? How’s your little town? Have you met anyone yet? Also, Carlisle is asking for you to visit soon and…”

“Emmett” she said, voice stern. But she didn’t quite eliminate the edge of humour from her tone. “I am as well as an undead creature of the night can be. My garage is doing good, I got a 2007 Porche to restore yesterday… I will not be visiting soon. I’m very busy and mostly, I have no desire to do so, as Carlisle well knows” she decidedly ignored her brothers poke at her love life - or lack there of.

It’s not that she doesn’t lack the urges for closeness. But she was still figuring out her afterlife, for how she arrived to it was less than pleasant and Rosalie did not feel the need to burden someone with her inability to escape from her past traumas. Or her downright dismal attitude.

Rosalie Hale was content with being alone. For, she’d learnt with painstaking experience, that being alone and being lonely were two very different things. After leaving her coven, under the guise of ‘finding herself’, some 25 years ago, Rose didn’t feel closer to claiming to reach such a feat.

All her human life she had been moulded into something for others to ogle at. Her hair had to be done right, her blue eyes must sparkle, her dresses pristine and beautiful. Her mind educated enough to be deemed intelligent, but certainly not more so than her father or would-be-husband-turned-murderer.

But she had yearned to please her father, and she’d been desperate to fit in, even if her heart was never in it. She did not dislike her prestige, for that would be hypocritical of her to state, but she did find it tiresome to pretend all the time.

She hadn’t wanted to frequent the balls and mingle with the thoughtless, cruel and calculating high society men and women. She was more than content with her own company, or that of her cat, Whiskers. Or her maid, Genevieve, a beautifully kind woman with gorgeous ebony skin, big brown mischievous eyes and a heart so big and gentle.

Rosalie had never felt more content or safe in her whole life than when she sat with Genevieve, teaching her to read and write, or telling her elaborate stories. She’d loved her, deeply and wholly and with everything in her. She did not see the woman as a maid or servant, in fact, she hated it.

She saw her as a goddess, tall and strong, independent and intelligent. Feminine and masculine, both handsome and beautiful. Upon reflection, Rosalie had been a goner for the older woman. But above all that, she’d respected her, and called her a dear, irreplaceable friend.

When Genevieve passed away the summer before her own death, due to ‘unknown causes’, it was the first time she’d felt all consuming agony. And she wasn’t even allowed to openly grieve, for in those backwards times, respectable pretty and rich white girls did not grow melancholy over the sudden departure of their black house servant.

This was also the first time her eyes had been opened to her societies truth. Rottenness. Like how an apple can appear nice and juicy on the outside but cut it open, and it is brown and mushy and rotten to its core. That is how Rosalie felt. And it felt horrible.

Of course not so long after, she was forced to become something she did not want to be. A creature with emotions she could barely comprehend, let alone control. And one burned brighter than anything she’d ever felt before.

Rage.

Pure and undiluted in it’s all encompassing, suffocation. She didn’t need to breathe, yet, this anger, this pain, she drowned in it.

Emmett was the first man she’d encountered that she thought she could somewhat care for, even in those brief seconds of seeing him try to fight off a huge bear, only terrified for his starving family. Not himself. She knew then that she didn’t want him to die.

She’d thought of him as someone she could maybe even love, to be her chosen mate. But she couldn’t let him in, not fully. She couldn’t tell him all about Royce or Genevieve. Or her burning anger, anger that never dissipated. It was partly why she’d lost Emmett McCarty eventually, too. 

“Rose…” she shook her head, ignoring the slight pang in her chest as she thought about Genevieve’s cheeky grin. And of Royce’s painful thrusts, and his disgusting animalistic, self assured male grin. She felt a bubble of tears threaten to raise in her eyes, this would look awful given vampires cried in blood. It was not a pretty sight.

“Rose? Are you there?”

“I have to go Em, say hi to Ange for me” she cut her ex, turned brother (it’s not weird, they’d not slept together properly), off and ignored the pang of sadness.

She walked closer to the centre until she stopped dead in her tracks. Rosalie raised her head and scented the air, venom pooled in her mouth at the smell that greeted her nose and tickled her senses. Lavender and something sweet, sugar maybe?It was enticing and she had no doubt her eyes had changed to their slightly darker shade.

She absently followed the smell until she practically bumped into a long wooden bar. Her head felt fuzzy - could vampires get fuzzy heads? Would she be the first vampire to get a case of a dizzy spell, to faint?

“The usual Rosalie?” A familiar French accented voice echoed.

“What?” She muttered as her nose continued to scent the air, the smell so strong she’d felt a strange electricity.

“Virgin strawberry mimosa, with a spritz of lemon?” The French voice said with an edge of shyness. Rosalie blinked and finally met the bartenders curious gaze.

“Oh, yes please” Rosalie said somehow sounding uncertain, she slightly cleared her throat - what a fool! She realised then that the bar was not restricted to just herself and the bartender. Rosalie Hale was no common fool! She had several degrees, a masters, was a licensed pilot and business owner for crying out loud! Yet, she stood there in the bar, staring and blindly stupidly all the same. She slightly shook her head in self deprecation. Get it together, Hale!  

As she turned (In what felt like slow motion) her head to study the other quiet patrol. Her mouth practically salivated.

Oh, well. Fuck. 

Short brown hair, with strands of copper cut and styled effortlessly, the ends curling slightly around the face. Whilst Rose couldn’t see the woman’s face, she she’d refused to meet her curious and clearly ogling stare.

Rosalie noted the stranger seemed to emanate energy, though her heartbeat strangely, her neck was fully visible due to one side of her head, up to the ear having a faded shave style. Rosalie had the oddest desire to trail her tongue up the column of the tantalising body part…

That’s when Rose finally noticed the girls lean, strong looking body, though appearing shorter than herself - her body, was covered in strange, but equally beautiful tattoos. Mostly black and grey, with some having random splashes of vivid and muted colours. Thanks to both her enhanced vampire eye sight and the girls tattered clothing. Clothing that was practically hanging off the girl. Little slithers of her skin teased Rosalie’s building desire, though she’d managed to control herself. But only just.

How odd! Whilst Rosalie was not without experiencing intervals of sexual attraction, she was a vampire after all. Vampires as a species felt emotions very strongly, this was something that newborns typically struggled with. Hell, even some seasoned vampires struggled when exposed to strong feelings, causing them to experience a range of reactions. Some more extreme than others.

Though, once more, Rose was abnormally rather composed in this realm, quite smugly so in fact. This was an odd reaction but not completely outside the realm of possibilities where her inner vampire nature existed. She stared at the tattered clothing and the tantalising exposed skin once more. At the pretty tattoos that snaked and disappeared behind clothes and reappeared at another slip of cloth. Rosalie desired nothing more than to rip the rest of the clothes away to map the ink on her whole body…amongst other activities. 

Rosalie suddenly felt bashful, thought she bid it well. A vampire feeling bashful - fool, indeed. 

“Your clothes are ruined” she said with a measured, matter-of-fact tone.

It took all of Rosalie’s self-taught composure and control to withhold the gasp in her throat before it could escape and make a fool of herself when the woman finally turned to face her.

Rose briefly got lost in the several tones of rich brown, with undertones of green and flecks of gold in the woman’s eyes. Eyes that glimmered back with slight curiosity, and a familiar glint of interest .

Rosalie smiled inwardly. Well, she was finished her work for the day after all, it’d be rude not to engage with the stranger, since she’d practically insulted the woman’s attire and stared for a few moments too long at her. It would be rude to leave now, right? 

After their brief, but admittedly endearing conversation, (if their short, albeit flirtatious - on the other girls side of course - could be counted as a conversation) that followed Rosalie’s semi-embarrassing, odd behaviour. Rosalie found herself teetering on the edge of ‘unable to leave’ when she’d unexpectedly agreed to play pool with the girl and brazenly flaunted her objectively beautiful body across the small distance to the cue stick. Feeling the woman’s - Isabella’s - brown eyes on her all the while, sent a thrill throughout her body.

Plus, the woman’s answering cocky, half-smirk did something deliciously naughty to Rosalie’s non-beating, dead heart. But the hint of her ‘come hither’ expression in the depths of those pretty orbs made Rosalie shiver.

“You can break first, Princess” Isabella husked. Rosalie rolled her eyes but secretly, she felt… well, something.

“If you insist” she added as she lined up her shot and the balls scattered and bounced about the table, some immediately potted into the little holes. Rosalie grinned, careful to hide her fangs that’d dropped from her gums without her realising. Rosalie took another shot and their game began.

Though, both women were well aware that the games of pool, and sips of alcohol over hooded eyes, were not the only games afoot in the Alaskan dive bar...

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

~ Isabella ~

“Okay, I‘ll admit, you’re pretty decent at pool” Isabella conceded with a teasing smirk. Rosalie merely rolled her eyes. “For a princess” Isabella tagged on, knowing the nickname would coerce an incredulous, semi-dangerous reaction that Isabella found all too endearing.

Isabella tacked on a knowing smirk as her eyes unapologetically roamed over Rosalie’s obviously gorgeous feminine figure. Pausing briefly at her full breasts until she met the woman’s eyes, eyes that promised violence. Rosalie gripped her pool-cue a little tighter, her knuckles bleached white, and a cute knot appeared between her knitted brows.

“I do not recommend being fooled by how a person may appear , Isabella” Rosalie replied through gritted teeth. “It can be a rather simple, and yet, sometimes fatal judgement” Rosalie finished, the sentence Isabella thought which was more akin to a challenge . Indeed, Rosalie’s eyes seemed to dare Isabella to defy her somewhat double edged statement.

Isabella, seemingly always having lacked basic self-preservation skills, which only worsened after that night with Victoria. So, Isabella grinned wolfishly. Another gentle scratch tempted her mind but she shut it down. She would need to do some serious grovelling to her oldest friend .

“Indeed, however I find that sometimes , a horse really is just a horse” Isabella quipped, leaning lightly on her own cue stick, with an obnoxious and confident gleam in her eyes. The picture of nonchalant dismissiveness. Rosalie gaped like a fish briefly, shock written on her pretty face before she schooled her expression to its usual icy cold, no doubt in order for her to contemplate an appropriate response. 

Sometimes, Isabella’s mouth ran away with itself, her preference for deeply sarcastic and monotone responses from her human life seemed to carry over in her afterlife. Indeed, her sharp tongue and lack of filter had gotten her into some sticky situations…Poor Orion’s exasperated dismay regularly filtered through their joint mind. No doubt, it was doing so at that very moment.

Rosalie’s eyes finally narrowed rather dangerously at her dismissive comment and seemingly cocky demeanour. Disbelief and fury flashed so quickly in her gold eyes before the look was replaced by a slim, feline smile, spread across the blondes perfectly painted red lips. Had Isabella been human, she’d have certainly felt unnerved. As she was not, her stance barely shifted and Rosalie tilted her head ever so slightly - like a curious, incensed kitten.

“Did you truly just call me a horse ?” Her incredulous tone was low, barely above a whisper as the woman stalked towards Isabella’s side of the old pool table. Her sensual hips purposefully swaying with her exaggerated movements, forcing Isabella to lick her lips.

The evening Alaskan sun had long since disappeared and the gentle silver moonlight filtered in through the small windows beside them instead. Isabella’s smile faltered slightly at the mischievous glower the blonde wore on her beautiful face. Rosalie’s deadly grin spread wider at Isabella’s questioning raised brow, until her eyes practically sparkled a darker molten gold. Isabella reflexively swallowed, trying desperately to control her ever rising libido.

“Well?” The blonde asked amused,  as she stopped mere inches from Isabella’s burning hot body. Isabella tugged her bottom lip with her teeth, her gaze finally meeting the blondes scowling, yet playful expression. Isabella cleared her throat unnecessarily, finding herself suddenly at war with her body’s new found craving for this stranger, and her relentless stubbornness.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply you appeared like a horse .” She said earnestly, though she could hear her tone was laced with sarcastic indifference, “have you heard of the Trojan Horse mythology?” the corner of Rosalie’s lip twitched upward briefly and she snorted as though the question were as insulting if not more so than her somewhat suggestion that the blonde goddess likened that of a four-legged stallion. 

Isabella had easily gathered the blonde enjoyed her displays of unassuming intelligence. Mostly due to their rapid fire, but playful conversation. In their brief pool games, they had shared their opinions, ideas and philosophies on a number of topics.

Topics which shifted quickly from music, to theatre and television to art and history. Some topics had gotten heated, like Isabella’s preference for rock over Rosalie’s beloved classical and jazz music, but she’d made up for her ‘disappointing lack in taste of music’ with the enjoyment she got from vintage motors.

“Hmm” Rosalie mumbled, forcing Isabella back to the present and her current predicament. Rosalie’s face was impassive and thoughtful, that was, until the vixen lowered her head and her strong scent filtered to Isabella’s nose and clung to her tattered clothing. A smug grin spread on the blondes face as she whispered, purposefully “apology accepted” right into her ear. It took every ounce of control (and stubbornness) to withhold the shiver cascading down her spine from displaying on her face. Which she kept mercifully blank.

“I mean really, a horse?” Isabella released a breathy laugh, “just look at you…” she mumbled with a wave of her hand towards the woman. 

“You seem to enjoy looking at me,  Isabella”, Isabella was tipsy enough to allow herself the enjoyment of her name on the blondes teasing, tantalising mouth. And couldn’t help but imagine what her name would sound like being screamed from said mouth, as Rosalie found her release. She briefly closed her eyes and inhaled her scent until it was all she could smell.

Isabella slowly turned her head until they faced one another, her eyes blinking owlishly up at the big (significantly darker) golden eyes of Rosalie. She absently pressed the front of her warm body against the hard, yet soft body of her companion. And a tiny indistinguishable sound escaped Rosalie’s lips, had Isabella been human, she’d have missed it. Isabella caught Rosalie’s laser-quick glances at her lips, but the blonde held herself back, which made her squirm all the more.

They were dancing on a tightrope, their arousal evident, their sly flirting reaching a dangerous and delicious crescendo. But who will crack first? Isabella wondered. 

“Do you enjoy looking at me , princess?” Her words were barely whispered, her tone husky and low and her mouth so close to the blondes lips that her own lips practically vibrated with the proximity - with anticipation . Their ever increasing combined arousal had Isabella loosen a breathy exhale, no longer able to stand holding back her bodies clear reaction. Rosalie’s mouth twitched, her beauty spot above her lip shifting with the movement.

“And what if I do?” Rosalie queried, her voice impossibly low, her tone reduced by an octave or two and her mouth now an inch or two from Isabella’s lips, her gold eyes swirled with so many questions and promises. Such unbridled, molten, beautiful desire. Yet, there was something holding her back, Isabella couldn’t figure out what exactly. But there was a definite resistance to… whatever game they were playing.

Isabella briefly worried that she might lose it though, their little game. And that scared her. She’d never reacted to a near stranger like this in… many years. Yet, her trepidation was not enough for her to back away, but oh, she wished she could, if only to preserve herself.

She so hated to lose, but her heart was safe. Rosalie would not take it from her, not this night, nor any other. Isabella would not allow such foolishness, not after Edward. Not after the Cullens abandonment nor Victoria’s unnecessary cruelty. No, her heart was secure. Locked away tightly and the key hiding somewhere forgotten. She wouldn’t stop herself from having a little fun in the rare moments the mood struck however. I

“I’d say I look even better without so many… layers ” Isabella winked. And Rosalie’s eyes darkened so the gold has dissected almost entirely, Isabella tested her patience and control further by leaning in and lightly brushing their mouths so close, but not quite touching, “would you enjoy taking all my layers off , princess?” She purred against Rosalie’s lips, enjoying the slight intake of breath the woman pulled into her body, and the way Rosalie finally whimpered .

“Oh, uhm, shit, so sorry to interrupt…” a voice spoke. Rosalie growled low in her throat, a deep guttural noise that was definitely not human. Isabella grinned viciously as she sprung away to put some respectable distance between them. The bartender grimaced at Rosalie’s deathly glare. It promised unspeakable violence and Isabella didn’t hide her shiver or amusement. 

“Nothing to apologise for, thank you” Isabella smoothed over, smiling softly. 

“We close in 10 so it’s last call” the girl said quickly before scurrying off to clear and clean tables and the likes. Isabella sighed and met the blondes burning gaze.

“I live not too far from here, just outside of town, or, do you have somewhere to be?” Rosalie smiled, the first unsure smile Isabella had seen and the uncertainty of her tone and slightly sheepish demeanour warmed Isabella’s cold heart. It made the woman, who appeared no more than twenty or twenty-one, almost bashful.

“I didn’t realise it’d gotten so late” Isabella muttered to herself before meeting Rosalie’s curious and hopeful gaze. Somehow, Isabella knew that this woman was not in the habit of taking people back to her home, or her bed for that matter. Not that she’d ever pressure her to do anything if she changed her mind. The familiar scratching tickled her sides again and she briefly whispered in her head a comforting apology and that she needed some alone time for a little longer.

“I have to be on the road again tomorrow…but, for tonight, I’d love to see your place” Isabella grinned and in a few short strides she was beside the beautiful blonde who gave her a full genuine smile in return.

“Well, if you’re sure?” She questioned, her brow furrowed cutely. 

She knew this was the blondes way to grant a small kindness to the near stranger she’d met at a bar, in the middle of nowhere Alaska, and a way to ascertain consent - at least in this regarding this first instance. For they both knew Rosalie was not simply asking her back to her place for an Earl Grey tea and light conversation.

Or perhaps Isabella was projecting her own deep rooted desire for the blonde? She briefly met Rosalie’s gaze, suddenly unsure of herself, and while she saw a very brief flicker of uncertainty in her golden orbs, which had lightened a bit, she also saw her desire. Burning as bright as it had been for the last couple of hours. She merely shook her head, with a knowing smirk on her lips as she looped an arm through the woman’s elbow and led her towards the door.

“Lead the way, Princess” Isabella whispered and Rosalie scoffed as the chilly night air hit Isabella’s face and various parts of her exposed skin.

I may have a thing for vampires after all… she thought with a self deprecating inward sigh…

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

~ Isabella ~

Rosalie drove a vintage classic car, a BMW Red Convertible in bright cherry red. How it ran still after so many years was a testament to the woman’s wealth and dedication.

Isabella couldn’t help but feel impressed with the vehicles pristine condition as she tentatively slid into the passenger seat, the soft cream leather under her made little to no protest as she did so.

She had been mildly concerned her state of dress would concern the blonde, who clearly adored the vehicle (rightly so), but she’d smiled softly as Isabella’s hand had paused questioningly on the silver door handle and she’d encouraged Isabella to get in with a sharp bob of her head.

The radio - clearly upgraded - played jazz music softly as Rosalie drove at only slightly

above the speed limit down the dark Alaskan roads. Isabella stared blankly out of the window, watching the scenery whiz past, completely missing the little curious and fond looks she received from the driver. Her mind inevitably wandered to the frantic calls with some of her high profile, concerned clients earlier that night and she rolled her eyes internally.

Isabella had excused herself during a part of their second pool game to frantically leave messages to some of her clients, to ensure they didn’t send search parties out for her. For she had no doubt, without the call, some absolutely would.

They could be a bit protective of her (albeit completely unnecessarily) mostly because they considered her an essential asset. But also, she’d built in a ‘protection’ clause into most contracts. Isabella was not some all powerful being, she was a scholar first and would remain a pacifist unless her life or those she loved (though that list was getting shorter and shorter as the years barrelled on) was in danger. Orion felt very strongly about keeping to their beliefs on the matter and Isabella, although angry and afraid and still slowly learning, agreed to uphold their views.

That being said, Orion taught and regularly maintained her self defence, along with various martial arts techniques and of course training with her somewhat unpredictable abilities for if/when the need ever arose.

Given Orion had never successfully bonded before, there was only so much xe could teach her until they reached blockades whereby they’d both required to learn and adapt. In their formative years, which were very disorienting, they’d had to learn much, and were at their weakest because of it. ‘Knowledge is power’ after all.

Despite their newness and (semi-reluctant on Isabella’s part) pacifism; they remained a formidable force, but not indestructible. Although it’d take a powerful being (or beings) to end their life - Isabella and Orion deigned to exist quietly and cautiously in their pursuit of knowledge.

Their contracts helped with providing some mutual security - where they’d inadvertently been forced to play mediator between many of the supernatural creatures they’d befriended, whilst keeping humanity safe and at a calculated distance from the supernatural world. But by god, some of them really got on Isabella’s last nerve and tested her limited patience. Aro’s wicked smirk flashed in her mind and she rolled her eyes.

It was no wonder she was exhausted and needed a little fun, she thought pensively. Her clients were mostly mistrusting of her and required a lot of handholding.

At the bar, she’d had to leave messages for a few of them including Aro and Jacob, her second and first contracts respectively, who did not answer. She’d made the rest of her calls in hushed tones at the back of the bar, tethered only by a long fraying wired cord belonging to the old pay phone, choosing what parts Rosalie would be able to hear, such as;

‘Yes, I am fine…no you don’t need to be concerned…I am more resilient than that…I am with a friend…of course I’ll call tomorrow…’

It’s not that she didn’t trust her new vampire acquaintance per se, though that formed part of it, it was mostly that she didn’t care to burst her ‘human’ appearance bubble with the beautiful woman.

When it popped, as it more often than not did, certain creatures got accusatory and disbelieving, then curious . For as far as she and Orion knew, they were the only being of their kind left on this earth. Then there were her abilities, and they certainly pushed them to the edge of downright fearful . Indeed, she’d had to work very hard to develop and maintain her tenuous relationships with her supernatural clients over the years.

Isabella inwardly sighed as she pulled her gaze from the ever passing scenery and instead, observed her companion. The blond held onto the wheel tightly, her shoulders and back ramrod straight. Her golden eyes brighter than their darkened state back in the bar.

She hoped the vampire wasn’t regretting her lust-fuelled decision to invite a practical stranger to her home. The little knot between her brow remained on her forehead and her gaze was focused on the road in front. Of course, Isabella knew that was mostly for her ‘human’ sake. The woman probably thought Isabella was an anomaly, being clearly unafraid of the unassuming predator before her.

Somehow, Isabella knew this nomad would not try to harm her, she didn’t know how she knew this - she could sense it but paid no mind to it. It may be a developing ability for she knew, she’d talk to Orion next time she slept about it.

Her eyes focused on the woman, mapping every minor detail with her enhanced sight - it was naughty using it so blatantly but she couldn’t help herself. She was curious about the pretty, frosty, and cheeky vampire.

“You know, it’s rude to stare” Rosalie muttered, though her lip quirked upward.

“Indeed,” she said slowly, “I apologise if I made you uncomfortable” Rosalie turned her head to her, her face held mild surprise, “I know you must be aware of how beautiful you are Rose, but that is not entirely why you intrigue me” Rosalie’s eyes flashed with curiosity at the nickname that’d slipped out of her mouth. Isabella inwardly cringed.

“Oh?” She asked, her voice quiet.

Why did the woman intrigue her? She pondered. Why had her distinguishable, delicious scent affected her so? She met her companions honey coated gaze, she saw all the usual emotions she expected to see; curiosity, desire, defiance…

But there, hiding underneath all of that, was a kaleidoscope of complex emotions. Trepidation, loneliness, fear and pain . Profound and life altering. Rosalie gripped the wheel tighter, uncomfortable with the dragging silence.

Isabella reached out towards the endless depths of her companions hidden, warring emotions and inwardly gasped. Her eyes wide and Rosalie’s frown deepened.

“You intrigue me because you have depths to you, and I wanted to see them. You make me… curious” Isabella’s candid words were barely above a whisper, and Rosalie’s soft inhale and  emotion flashed in her eyes, had Isabella’s heart fluttering. Isabella lifted her hand and tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind Rosalie’s pierced ear. Her skin - her vampire skin - felt warm to her. Her hand stilled, hovering by Rosalie’s face. What the fuck?

Rosalie stared back, shock and confusion on her pretty face. Before she suddenly slammed her foot on the breaks and thrust the car to an abrupt halt with a loud screeching bang.

Isabella shakily restored her connection with Orion and a flood of their emotions filtered rapidly into her mind, overwhelming and comforting all at once.

“Shhhh O, I’m sorry, please” she whispered as she stared as the furious blond vampire cursed and paced in the dark in front of her dented car, a dead deer lay to the side of the road.

Orion’s confusion and frustration echoed in her mind and she sighed dejectedly.

“Tonight is not my night” she grumbled as she kicked a loose rock. ‘What vampire has ever been distracted enough to require to do a fucking emergency stop in a car?’ She thought despairingly. Orion’s confusion was their only response on the matter. She folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes to the dark starry star flecked sky

“Shit, that’s pretty” she whispered, “I forgot how beautiful it was here. We should come more often” she said softly as she stared in wonder and adoration up at the Alaskan night sky. Billions of glittering stars blinked above her and she felt Orion‘s contentment and subtle sadness. ‘I’m sorry old friend’ she thought of hugging them and felt it returned.

“I called a tow truck, they’ll come by tomorrow. We’re not far from my home, it’s just through those trees” Rosalie’s exasperated and slightly shaken voice interrupted her moment with Orion and she smiled tightly.

“Let’s get going then” why she didn’t just reveal she could run alongside the vampire to get there much quicker, she didn’t know. But they walked at a human pace, bumping shoulders every other step.

“What’s your favourite constellation?” Isabella blurted, ignoring Orion’s attempt at controlling their swirling emotions. They weren’t the best at it and she found it best to let them gather themselves without her observing or trying to ‘help’. Xe would ask for her assistance if it was truly required.

“Orion” Rosalie replied as she glanced up in the general direction of Orion’s Belt. Isabella paused briefly, her eyes shot to the back of Rosalie’s head, before she resumed her walk. “It contains the brightest star we can see, I believe” Rosalie tagged on with a gentle shrug of her shoulder. Heels clicking under the gravel with her deliberate momentum. Isabella watched the woman in wonder, as the glittering stars reflected in her warm eyes. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Me too” she replied quietly. Orion’s warmth filled her and she smiled inwardly at them.

“Are you cold?” Rosalie whispered, the irregular brush against her arm had Isabella’s heart thumping violently. She pointedly ignored it.

“No” she replied simply. “Are you?”

“No” Rosalie said through a breathy laugh.

“I’m sorry about your car” Isabella said genuinely.

“These things happen” probably not to vampires , Isabella thought, mildly amused. Rosalie glanced at the deer with regret and saves in her eyes. 

“I didn’t take you for an animal lover?” Isabella’s smirk was playful but she was curious about it, she knew Rosalie ate animals, given the colour of her eyes. Rosalie merely sighed.

“I don’t relish in the needless loss of any life” the reply surprised Isabella enough to wipe the smirk from her face. She felt uncomfortable with the growing tension.

She discretely studied the blonde as they walked through the trees getting closer toward a large modern cabin, nestled amongst huge trees, with the distinct sound of running water crashing in the nearby distance. Rosalie appeared a bit tense but as they got closer to her home, she seemed to get relax.

“You are upset” Isabella observed, it was a  statement. Rosalie paused and Isabella abruptly turned to face her. The blondes eyes were filled with frustration and something else…something Isabella couldn’t decipher. It looked a lot like…

“I am disappointed ” Rosalie corrected, her hands balled into fists beside her before she released them. Isabella stepped closer, her eyes searching Rosalie’s golden orbs.

“Why?” She breathed, inching ever closer. The blonde made no attempt to move away, in fact, she stepped toward Isabella and sighed.

“Because I wanted…” Rosalie paused and gently bit her bottom lip as Isabella stopped mere inches from her and keeping to their eye contact.

“And what would that be exactly?” she hardly recognised the sultry tone, and she couldn’t place why her heart beat uncontrollably in her chest like a hummingbirds wings. She was fixated, staring expectantly up at the vampire under the Alaskan starry sky. Rosalie’s gold eyes ventured down to Isabella’s moist lips; she smiled knowingly.

“I’d quite like to kiss you?” Rosalie breathed as she inched closer and Isabella unknowingly held her breath. Orion was suspiciously silent, she briefly panicked at that but she simultaneously couldn’t take her eyes off the inches disappearing between their lips. Her breath caught in her throat when she could practically taste Rosalie’s lips, mere centimetres from her waiting mouth.

“Rosalie-please” she hadn’t realised she’d whispered her thoughts aloud, until Rosalie paused briefly, head tilted in that cat-like way that Isabella found equal parts vexing and endearing.

Before her senses were overloaded entirely as Rosalie swiftly and proficiently gripped at her tattered leather jacket, pulled her impossibly close, and desperately pressed her lips against her own…

Chapter Text

Chapter 6:

2005: Forks, Washington

(10 months before Bella Swan moved to the town)

~ Rosalie ~

“Rosalie, could you send me a list of anything you might need for the garage and your bedroom? I’m doing an order” Esme’s voice, whilst soft and quiet, filtered easily to Rosalie’s ears as she lay tinkering and clattering with her tools beneath Emmett’s yellow jeep.

“Thanks, Esme” she responded swiftly, as she tightened a stubborn bolt, she’d already been splattered by some oil gunk and was in a particularly sour mood. Especially after she’d read the text message received immediately after the outfit destroying event from Alice, her ‘sister’ of the last several decades. The future seer had stated:

Alice: That’s for destroying my favourite pair of shoes!

“Fucking, Alice” she’d hissed as she angrily wiped the sticky jet black oil from her perfect (albeit scowling) face. She’d seethed as she continued her work, bending two wrenches and a screwdriver before she could calm herself enough to let out the breath she’d been holding. This had been several hours ago, and still, she fumed.

“Rue?” Emmett’s deep masculine timbre boomed as the front door was flung open. She withheld her wince and adopted a lazy roll of her eyes. She silently hoped he’d not damaged it again, for Emmett McCarthy-Cullen regularly ‘forgot’ about his sheer (enhanced) brute strength, and doors were amongst the top of his casualties as a consequence. He’d certainly face Esme’s wrath and Rosalie deeply sour mood sucked away any inclination to defend the oaf from her mother’s anger. She quickly disembarked from her position beneath the vehicle and tried to tidy her dishevelled appearance. But it was for naught, grease and oil clung to her, the streaky black gunk was everywhere. “Fucking, Alice” she repeated as she rubbed at a spot on her neck. Usually her future seeing sister would alert her of any big spills to prevent her from ruining her clothing and spending hours in the shower trying to rid her body of the strong smell.

“In the garage” she replied in a tone that informed her brother she was in no mood for any of his usual teasing antics. Despite his warning, Emmett appeared at the doorway not a few seconds later. He glanced at her ruined clothes and opened his mouth before finally noticing Rosalie’s raised brow and signature glare, he clamped his mouth shut and mimed zipping it and throwing away the imaginary key. Perhaps the fool had more brain cells than they thought? She mused. Rosalie felt her lip curl upward in a ghost of a smile.

“What is it Em? As you can see, I am preoccupied” she said impatiently as she tapped her foot. Her friend rolled his eyes playfully and she pursed her lips.

Emmett was your typical man-child. His intimidating size and muscles gave the illusion that he was terrifying and ‘tough guy’. Those who knew the vampire, knew him to be the opposite; he craved friendship, specifically human friendship, he’d pout whenever people avoided him like the Bubonic Plague due to his burly intimidating appearance.

Whereas, Rosalie’s near constant scowl, frosty glare and enhanced otherworldly beauty made her appear unapproachable and terrifying to most – which was entirely purposeful. How she’d ever believed Emmett - with his sunshiny personality and adoration of his vampirism - to be her mate was utterly incomprehensible.

An involuntary shiver slid down her spine in the way it did whenever she thought of the unfortunate years they’d tried desperately to date. Of Emmett’s constant enthusiasm and endless patience, and his crestfallen face when she’d finally called it a day with their wayward romance. Rosalie didn’t have many regrets, but his heartbroken face would forever be etched into her memory. She could never regret saving him, or loving him – in her own way - but trying to make it work when she knew deep down it could never...well, that, she regretted.

“Still?” he gestured to her ruined clothing, bringing the blonde back from her sadness and Rosalie shrugged nonchalantly, expertly hiding her emotions. He quirked a brow at her clothing and smirked. Evidently, he was in a risky mood, to test her patience further despite her clear warnings.

Truthfully, the sisters were in a small tiff which was – indirectly (allegedly) – caused by Rosalie wearing some of Alice’s impossibly expensive jewellery some three months prior, and forgetting to take it off before she attacked and devoured a large elk.

She’d misplaced it in the forest, where it wound up in the river and it’d washed away with the current. Rosalie honestly did try to find it, she knew it was an anniversary present from Jasper or something – but it’d looked so cute with her outfit...Alas, mother nature gave little fucks when it came to Rosalie’s plight.

Upon Rosalie’s (entirely remorseful) recounting of the unfortunate events, and despite her very dedicated hour of trying to find the bracelet, and offering to pay for a new piece, Alice Cullen – always one to overreact - had lost her damn mind, and in a fit of sheer insanity fuelled wrath had scratched ‘don’t touch my stuff’ in French on Rosalie’s freshly repainted favourite cherry red car, and, well...

“She and I remain in our mild...disagreement” she said matter-of-factly as she inspected her nails.

“You two are ridiculous” Emmett sighed. Rosalie merely glared. “Anyway, I um, have something to tell you...” the burly vampire shifted uncomfortably on his feet and swiftly averted her curious, sharp gaze.

Apprehension and dread pummelled into her stomach for two reasons:

One: The last time Emmett had uttered those words, he’d proclaimed his deeply profound love for Rosalie, but had informed her that he was no longer willing to put his heart, even in its non-beating state, in her hands for her to continue to crush. (Which, fair).

He’d sadly, heartbreakingly claimed he deserved to be loved with the same reckless abandonment he’d loved Rosalie. And with those words, the fragile thin glass encasing her dead heart splintered and cracked as she witnessed the look of sheer devastation on her best friends face.

She’d done that. Her inability to give him her heart, her body, her soul; when he’d offered her all of him, all that he had, on a silver platter. Rosalie had known this was inevitable, even Emmett had limitations on how much he would allow his heart to be repeatedly broken for the sake of a ‘maybe, someday’ with the ‘Ice Queen’, Rosalie Hale. Who’d shown little improvement in showing her affections towards the vampire in their decades together. Again, it was a regretful selfish action of hers.

But Rosalie did love him. She did. With everything in her. Every ugly part of her. But, he was right. It wasn’t in the way he loved her. And she was being unfair, she was being cruel and callous to continue to delay the inevitable. Rosalie Hale loved Emmett Cullen-McCarthy, but she was not, nor would she ever be, in love with him. She was being every bit the monstrous, soulless creature she feared to be, in her clinging to him.

Two: Rosalie Hale was scared. So very scared that whatever Emmett Cullen said next, would change her life forever. It’s important to note that Rosalie was selfish and vain and shallow - she always had been. Simply put, she didn’t want to deal with whatever Emmett had to say. She had little left to give. Mostly, selfishly, she worried that Emmett, her dearest friend, her first friend in her after-life – was finally going to leave her. Perhaps it was irrational, but it was as real as the oil sticking to her flawless diamond skin.

“What is it?” She asked, her tone significantly lowered to barely above a whisper and she averted her eyes to look at the concrete floor. If she concentrated enough, she could feel the cold seeping in through her shoes and up her body.

“I found my mate, Rosie” Emmett whispered, his baritone voice was so quiet, had she not been supernaturally gifted, she’d have missed it.

Rosalie’s obsidian, venom-filled eyes snapped to Emmett’s guilty gold orbs, he sighed softly and stepped towards her. Rosalie stepped back and her hip clipped the workbench, leaving a small dent in the metal. She cleared the overwhelming emotions from her throat and swallowed. She put a hand up in front of her in a silent plea for him to stay back. She needed to breathe through it. Her emotions were jarring and she didn’t understand...

‘what does this mean?’ she wanted to shout. But she knew. She knew what it meant. It meant he was leaving, he’d found someone else finally to give him something she could not. Why did it hurt? Why did it ache? it didnt make any fucking logical sense.

“Congratulations Em, I’m h-happy for you” she stuttered. Rosalie waited for the mortification at the uncharacteristic stutter to invade her already swirling emotions. Rosalie Hale did not stutter. She was an intellectual woman, a blood-drinking creature of the fucking night for heavens sake – and above all else, she was a Hale. And Hale’s did not, ever stutter. But she couldn’t seem to care.

“She’s a musician, plays guitar, her voice is...I saw her eyes and I just, I knew-” Emmett’s elated tone tore at her, he stared at her eyes which were filling with blood and he reached out towards her and she retreated further, her eyes turning cold. “Rosalie...” Emmett winced as her hand instantly crushed the bench she rested against.

“I am happy for you” she repeated, but they both knew a lie when they heard one. “I am” she feebly tried again. Emmett was hers, she saved him, he was her chosen mate, he loved her for fuck sake...didn’t he? Now some stranger he didn’t even know got to...fuck, she really hated vampire mating.

“It’s okay Rue” the term of endearment no one else called her shattered her last thread of control.

“Excuse me” she hated, hated, how her voice cracked. She despised Emmett’s sympathetic, pity-filled gaze.

“Rose, it’ll be okay, you’ll find your...” Emmett tried.

“Like I said, I’m glad for you Emmett but you don’t require my fucking permission to ride off into the sunset with your true mate, i am your covenmate that is all" he snapped, her fangs dropped distorting her words slightly and she internally fumed. If she were human, she’d be ten shades to sunset by now. Emmett stood dumfounded and hurt. “I need to hunt” she said with a curt nod. She didn’t give him an opportunity to stop her.

As she sped away, the sight of a sad, frustrated Emmett burned into her never ending memory, where it would remain for all of her unending eternity.

Rosalie Hale is selfish and broken and alone. The monster inside her chanted giddily over and over.

Rosalie ran and ran and ran. She ran for hours. Days. Hunting various wildlife along her way until she finally collapsed in a broken heap to the deep snow covered ground.

It was there, in the middle of no-where, surrounded by the unforgiving bitter cold, skeleton trees poking up from the deep snow covered forest floor and utter silence, days later, that Rosalie’s earth-shattering scream woke a long slumbering, deadly part of her.

A part she’d keep silent, shackled, for far too long. Ever since that fateful night where the man who should’ve protected her, abused her and left her for dead. Then, as the first snowflakes fell of the season fell and melted onto her tear-stained cheeks, blood pooled around her broken, dying body – her ‘saviour’ took the last remaining choice from her. And when she woke, that scary thing, both new and old, screamed at her to let it out. To burn the world. But she’d silenced it in order to exact her vengeance, and now, decades later, that monster was back scratching at her mind.

Red droplets dripped down her cheek and decorated the crystal white floor beneath with speckles of bright crimson for so long that they formed a small red halo around her head. The black sky lit up with the glittering stars and silver moon above her, offered her some soft white light.

Rosalie lay back against the thick snow and opened her eyes to observe the far away stars, she watched in muted wonder as thick flurries of snowflakes fell from the sky miles before any actually reached her. She reached up to catch one and an echo of a smile briefly graced her lips as the unique flake rested on her palm and didn’t melt due to her cold skin. It was poetic really, that it returned to her after so long, in the way she finally let it take her...

It took her a long time to notice the small crater she lay in and the snow she’d dutifully rested against was far colder, and the many trees around her were unnaturally skeleton-like. As though they been burnt. Not by fire, exactly. The strange zigzag pattern carved into the wood, like little spider webs. Like something had struck them with incredible force. Destructive. Beautiful. Deadly.

Like lightning, or starlight..

“How am I supposed to know?” A frustrated feminine voice hissed. “She’s just laying there in the snow…uggggh fine but you owe me” Rosalie heard a long exaggerated sigh and then the crushing sound of snow underfoot creeping closer and closer.

“Rosalie Hale,” a shadow, decidedly feminine, loomed over her, blocking the beams of light from Rosalie’s beloved sun, Rosalie didn’t bother to look at the sudden intruder and remained in her position, back and body unmoved as her chaotic mind continued to whir, desperately trying to connect several lines of thought and erratic emotions.

“You’re going to turn into a vampire popsicle,” the dry voice tried humourlessly, “hlúpe dievča” [foolish girl], the intruder muttered. “Snap out of it” Rose heard a sharp snap of fingers as the voice shouted this. Rosalie merely scowled. Who was this person that dared interrupt her contemplative meditative (vegetative) state?

Rosalie simply huffed and simultaneously realised that this may be the first breath she’d taken in who knew how long. Although unnecessary, the freezing air seemed to shock her system. Like what she remembered it felt like to gasp in a breath after being submerged in water for a while. It was slight disorienting but comforting all the same.

The air she continued to pull inside and exhale formed a tiny white foggy cloud in front of her face as the snow continued its valiant mission to cover the surrounding area in its cold, white blanket. Still, Rosalie remained in her (unintentionally) self made snow crater, which had been filling up unbeknownst to the blonde.

Suddenly, a too beautiful feminine face leant down, contorted in mild amusement and something else, something that Rosalie thought looked a lot like pity. “Stop being so dramatic, môj Bože” [my god]. Straight blonde hair so light it was almost white fanned around the pretty scowling face and deep golden orbs met Rosalie’s own - currently jet black - eyes. Rosalie blinked slowly.

“You have two choices dearest cousin, you can voluntarily accompany me to our house, or, I can zap the shit out of you, repeatedly and drag you there unconscious” Rosalie narrowed her eyes at the rude vampire. She wouldn’t dare! She thought defiantly.

Unperturbed by the blondes scowl, the woman continued, her velvety voice tinged with amusement as she practically sang, “really, I could knock you unconscious with one powerful zap, but to do several is more fun for me. And more painful for you” a devilish smirk stretched across the pretty face as golden eyes flashed briefly with the obvious threat. She really would, the fiend! She inwardly concluded.

Rosalie’s nostrils flared, a key indicator that she was on the precipice of unleashing her more unpleasant behaviour. After all, Rosalie Hale’s rage-fuelled outbursts were legendary among those she (begrudgingly) called ‘family’ or the rarer still, ‘friend’.

“Neskúšaj moju trpezlivosť!” [do not test my patience]. The woman barked, her pretty mouth levelled into a thin line.

Rosalie ignored the outburst and instead, continued to ruminate on her behaviour and current predicament. For one, her emotions rarely bubbled over like this. She was known for her near unflinching, rigorous control.

And two, she knew on some surface level that her reaction was somewhat (entirely) unfair. She had no claim on Emmett Cullen, she never really had if she were to be brutally honest. But it hurt all the same. Fuck, did it hurt; the man she’d saved, who she’d tried so hard to love, who’d loved her despite the many, many obstacles she’d thrown in his path. He’d loved her. And now he was gone, leaving her for his true mate. And it HURT goddamnit. It pierced her dead heart like a splintered wooden stake, leaving tiny rotten splinters embedded in her flesh so whenever she thought about him, a stab of pain shot through her heart.

Lastly, Rosalie was no stranger to the study and certain practices in psychology, and as such, she knew on some fundamental level that her sudden reaction hadn’t much to do with Emmett and his newfound true mate. Not really.

If she were to dig deeper as she continued to greedily inhale the freezing cold air - what troubled her about it all was the loss in control. It was scary and unacceptable.

She’d immediately reacted. Her body ran with very few signals from her brain, (signals she’d not even realised she’d given in the first place). She wanted on some level to stop, to think and sort through her emotions in order to avoid, well… this situation. Namely, being accosted and threatened by the frustrating, grating, infuriating, childish…

“When Tanya asks you about this, you be sure to tell her I gave you the choice!” The vampire chirped menacingly. And it was the downright gleeful tone coupled with the blondes flippant use of that last noun, (for the words meaning and more importantly, its practice she cherished above all else) that snapped Rosalie from her melancholy reverie.

“Touch me, Katrína Denali, and I will snap both of your arms and bury them so far into the earth that they will disintegrate to ash” Rosalie said through gritted teeth, her voice hoarse from non-use, as she gingerly stood from her position, wincing slightly at her stiff body, and glared daggers at the smug face of her vexing ‘cousin’. “Of all of the Denali clan, why you?” Rose said through gritted teeth, her tone venomous. Kate grinned like the little imp she was before she rolled her eyes at Rosalie’s scowling face.

“Dráma Kráľovná” [drama queen] Kate muttered, “follow me,” before she turned to leave and levelled Rosalie with a toothy grin, “oh, and Alice sends her regards”. And before Rose could react, Kate was gone, a puff of disturbed snow was the only evidence she’d been there at all.

“Fucking, Alice!” Rosalie growled into the vast expanse of nature surrounding her.

Had Kate remained to observe her troubled cousin, as she stared furiously and unblinking at the snowy sky, she’d have observed the dangerous flash of bright white light in her eyes. And the slight glow to her otherwise pale skin.

Chapter Text

‘A moth was a caterpillar, once, but it no longer is a caterpillar. It cannot break itself back down, cannot metamorphose in reverse. To try to eat leaves again would mean starvation. Crawling back into the husk would provide no shelter. It is a paradox -- the impossibility of reclaiming that which lies behind, housed within a form comprised entirely of the repurposed pieces of that same past. We exist where we begin, yet to remain there is death... I could not have predicted each version of me that I shifted into, but through my history, one constant has always remained true: change itself... I did not know who she was, the one waiting for me to start moving toward her. I was curious about her, all the same. I was eager to meet her’ ~ Becky Chambers 

Chapter 7: 
(Sometime post-merge)

~ Isabella ~

“Again, how is this supposed to help?” Isabella huffed as she slumped in the wooden chair, Orion’s lithe-willowy figure drifted closer, their inhuman eyes narrowed in exasperated amusement.

“We must train your body and mind young one” Their strange voice repeated, as Isabella mouthed their words as they spoke them, much to Orion’s amusement. Their arms folded over one another in front of their flat chest and they attempted a wry smile, “very funny, but if we master the magic that was shown to us, we can most certainly use it to our advantage, that witch was fascinating” Orion’s usually stoic face transformed to one of wonder.

“You just thought she was pretty” Isabella smirked and blew her stoic friend a kiss and Orion blinked, their eyes vacant and brow quirked in confusion.

“I do not-“

“Have those kind of ‘urges’, I know. I am teasing you” Isabella’s grin widened when Orion rolled their eyes, a habit the ancient being picked up from their (previously) human friend.

“You know I do not understand your human sarcasm, young one” Orion pouted, but the image was so strange that Isabella giggled and felt the moment sink into their shared soul, she entirely missed the fond half-smile her friend gave her as she buckled over and gripped her stomach. 

“Okay, okay...I will try again if you can tell me how I am feeling...” Orion blanched and they began to pace, the old floorboards creaking beneath them. Honestly, why Isabella’s unconscious mind conjured such odd places for her to ‘meet’ with Orion when in her deep slumber, was beyond both of them. But a strange cabin in the woods, trees poking up from the ground and standing tall and proud surrounded the secluded area. Snow fell lazily outside the fogged window but the place would always appear whenever she slept and wished to speak to her friend, which was most nights. She found the place oddly comforting, so neither questioned the location. After all, it could’ve been a lost memory from her human life. Her transformation was so traumatising, they couldn’t keep all of their memories, although allegedly, some would return in time. 

“Hmm, frustrated?” Orion tried, their face scrunched in concentration.

“Deeper, please” she challenged. Orion pursed their pale lips.

“Sad? It feels...like when you were five and you had been given a balloon at a fair by Renee, and it’d flown away immediately because she was not paying a lot of attention when passing it to you.” Isabella sighed sadly, unable to stop the tight bitterness that scratched at her heart at the forgotten memory. 

“Good” she kept her voice level, and tried her best not to blame Orion for their methods of learning how to read emotions, by pulling them from her memories. Their species could not ‘feel’ in the same way humans did, they were a logical species and what kittle their emotions they experienced were tied heavily to logic. Isabella found this odd, but it was a quirk she was growing accustomed to. So, she didn’t begrudge Orion’s methods, even if they sometimes pained her. But sometimes, she thought of a smaller, vulnerable and gullible Isabella who only ever wanted her mothers love and attention, and she wished Orion would let her forget. To allow her this small mercy.

Orion felt their friends sadness, and it changed and morphed like her emotions tended to do and Orion likened the new feeling to something they could liken it to better – the memory of taste. Isabella’s current swirling emotions were predominantly overshadowed by sourness. Something she felt when thinking of her mother, with her neglectful tendencies tied to having a child when she was too young, too selfish to love Bella the way she craved and deserved. It was altogether unpleasant.

“Hmm, disappointment?” Orion offered , their voice small and Isabella’s lips pursed before she nodded once and continued her efforts to control the magic infused black ink with her outstretched arm. Orion mused on their predicament while she struggled with the pronunciations of the complex spell as ink coated her fingers and crept lazily up her arm.
Orion’s species did not ‘feel’ in the ways many creatures on earth did, they were logical beings, their actions were driven by logic and necessity, such as to mate or work. They shared familial bonds but they ‘felt’ and expressed those feelings very differently. 

Love (and its counterpart, hate to a lesser effect) were particularly strange concepts for Orion, although they’d witnessed many bizarre acts from creatures on the strange planet they’d been stranded on for centuries, in the apparent name of these emotions, they were not any closer to truly understanding them. Isabella shut her heart down, and it was challenging for Orion to learn them properly with her shielding herself the way she did. 

Nevertheless, Orion was a patient soul, they mused as Isabella gritted her teeth and her hand shook with her efforts – indeed, how can a creature claim to love another and then abandon them, seemingly with little regard for their lovers welfare? And so many wars were started, fought and ended in the name of love. Surly love was something to be celebrated? But they’d witnessed so much pain and death caused by the unruly emotion. Orion found it all perplexing. Still, they tried, they wanted desperately to help their dearest friend, the being who’d risked everything for them. So they struggled and stumbled, desperately trying (mostly in vain), to at the very least work on recognising each emotion. To help their lost friend find her way back to herself, to a better version, for they knew that Isabella Swan was special, not only because of their deep bond but mostly, because she tired to find the good, the wonder, in her broken world. 

At the very least, Orion could pull emotions tied to Isabella’s memories (though they still hadn’t exchanged all of them, for neither were ready for the agony exchange demanded, and although necessary for them to control their abilities and finalise their transition – it hurt to force the painful memories onto one another.) Despite their great knowledge gained from their time on earth and beyond the stars, from witnessing some of their home planet companions successfully bond only to be destroyed sometime later – Orion found it overwhelming. 

For indeed, Observing life and history as it unfolded and actually experiencing it were two very, very different things. So, they did not blame Isabella for withholding some of her memories or locking away her heart, they were doing the exact same thing after all, but until they released them all to one another – they would remain weak, vulnerable. Orion sighed inwardly and continued to ruminate on their new life and the challenges it brought with it.

To Orion, Isabella’s different ‘flavours’ of love were all so varied, for instance, sometimes it burst through her heart when Jacob hugged her, but this tasted like fall, warm and comforting like a cup of coffee. And when her father, Charlie had given her one of his rare smiles at the only time she’d caught a scrawny fish and she’d paused for a photograph holding the thing by the tail – Orion thought this love, of the quiet father and distant daughter, the purest they’d felt from the girl so far. It tasted like winter, of celebrations sitting around trees and a warm bath with bubbles that smelt like winter spice. The epitome of comfort and ‘rightness’. But they could only ‘feel’ these things due to sharing Isabella’s memories, for the girl had been as closed off as the deepest parts of the planets oceans since her death months before. Orion understood this of course, again, they shared a lot of her memories, they knew the agony Isabella felt when she’d been forced to relive the horrors she’d been subjected to during their first transfer of memories as her body was Made anew to accommodate Orion’s ancient species. Some might even say they were a parasite, and perhaps they’d be correct on some rudimentary level, but Orion and Isabella knew otherwise.

Orion wished Isabella would allow herself to feel these strange but beautiful emotions once again, they thought whilst they would never truly comprehend the full kaleidoscope of complex human emotions – they did know they loved Isabella, in their own way.

 Indeed, Orion loved her fiercely, the girl who’d died and risked the unknown, endured unfathomable pain so she’d have a companion forever. To be stronger and yet still struggle, just differently. Orion loved her for her unyielding trust, and her loyalty and her ability to remain brave in spite of the difficult cards she’d been dealt. 

It was no wonder their previous bonding attempts had failed, they thought with a sad smile, they were not Isabella Swan. Orion, who’d been born a long time ago, on a planet so incomprehensibly far away, knew she was special as they perched on the am of an old brown leather sofa and watched as Isabella stuck her tongue out and narrowed her shimmering eyes. Her auburn hair whipped around her face, her chocolate eyes brightening and morphing into a bright and brilliant forest green with hundreds of flecks of gold and silver sparkling as sweat beaded on her forehead, cheeks dusted a light pink.

“Acender” [ignite] she whispered and her eyes blazed and widened as the ink snaked around her wrist and began forming odd patterns. Orion watched in fascination and with pride.

Yes, Orion knew that this girl could rattle the damn stars and solar system if she so wished. And Orion would gladly help her every step of the way.

Isabella held her hand out, watching the magic infused ink disappear under the modest blue t-shirt she wore as they both exited the cosy cabin and sat on a large fallen tree-trunk. It was a spot they liked to end their conversations, a serene safe space surrounded by nature. Isabella plopped down and gazed out at the wooded scenery. They both sat in comfortable since for several long moments, simply content to watch nature from their height vantage point. 

The sun beamed happily down on the pair and Isabella felt momentarily awed. Her life was so changed, she had a friend for life tied to her very soul, her body changed in a big way and continued to do so in small ways every day. Each day brought a new lesson, a new thing to learn. She stared out at the vast wilderness in muted wonder and fear before she whispered, “um, what do we do now?” she picked at a loose thread on her dark jeans. 

Orion remained quiet for a minute and eventually cast their eyes at the suddenly shy girl, for that is what she was. A girl, barely out of childhood who’d been thrust into an unforgiving but wonderful new world she couldn’t yet comprehend, and she was deeply afraid of it. Orion smiled at her softly, recognising the bubble of excitement as it coursed through their body.

“We live, Isabella,” they said with a knowing smile, “we live”, Orion gently rested their strange almost transparent hand atop Isabella’s and shifted closer to the girl.

Isabella’s answering uncertain smile lit up her face as she nodded slowly and the sadness that seemed forever etched into her heart, in that moment, felt smaller as the pair resumed their quiet watch over the wild world that eagerly awaited her just as soon as she woke.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

‘Remember diamonds are created under pressure so hold on, it will be your time to shine soon’ - Sope Agbelusi

~ Rosalie ~

(flashback) 

When Rosalie Hale was thirteen, she experienced a catalyst-like event that altered the course of her life and her behaviour - an event, although seemingly small, she now believes that eventually lead her to become the ‘Ice Queen’.

Her recently appointed best friend, Natalia, gently tucked a strand of Rosalie’s soft blonde hair behind her delicate ear, and her small wrist lingered by her face in a way that had her heart rate skyrocketing to what felt like dangerous levels.

The sun was creeping higher in the summer sky, and the birds sang their sweet songs hidden in the surrounding trees of the famous Central Park. Rosalie and Natalia had found themselves in a rare moment of true privacy, their chaperones believed to be  out of sight and the park was delightfully empty at such an early hour. Not even dog walkers could be seen nor heard and the girls loved it.

Natalia was of Chinese decent, born of a high borne immigrant family of new money who’d moved to the States a generation or so ago, and with her gorgeous hazel eyes, delicate freckled face decorated by a soft, uncertain smile - Rosalie was (unknowingly at that point) absolutely smitten by the girl.

A girl who perhaps also felt out of place in a city, a country, that didn’t care enough to understand her - not only her Chinese heritage and customs, but her , the girl and woman who she longed to be. Natalia was a square peg, and the unforgiving world she lived in, a very round hole indeed.

Comparatively, Rosalie was as popular as you could be, her prestigious last name ensured that she’d never need concern herself of any other alternative. She was beautiful, respectably charitable, rich beyond reason, her blonde hair shone like luxury gold and her violet eyes sparkled in delight whenever she observed the clear jealousy from her peers. And so they sparkled frequently .

Yet, Rosalie was lonely. Her ‘friends’ would sooner rather stab her in the back if they could get away with it, and her family… well, they held their only daughter to such an unobtainable high standard that it left her constantly trying whatever means to reach it. Even if it meant standing on the backs of others, she would do it, to keep her banker father and relentless social ladder climbing hungry mother at bay. Familial love was an abstract concept to the youngest Hale, at least the blood relative kind.

So, Rosalie was ruthless even at the impressionable young age of three and ten. She was a snake, a viper, and she’d do whatever it took to stay in her families good graces, because the alternative - the black and purple bruises and verbal abuse - were not pleasant. So she was poisonous and she would take no prisoners. She was a Hale , and that meant something in her small, shallow world.

When Natalia’s father befriended her own, and she was encouraged by the serious man to make Natalia feel welcomed in their town - Rosalie jumped at the opportunity to impress her stoic father. She could easily lead the scared girl into a false sense of security, packaged under the guise of friendship , at least certainly real enough to please her father. A man with an insatiable hunger for more .

And Natalia’s family had money by the boat load - indeed, because they owned several cargo ships and vital successful businesses. Their reputation may lack wealth in their small elite circle but they did have money, and if they couldn’t offer status, her father would always settle for more money. She may be young, but she was observant in her silent presence and soft smiles.

What she didn’t envisage however, as she continued to see the girl, and giddily relished her fathers praise, (shown in his elaborate gifts and smirks) was that she would develop an actual and genuine attachment to Natalia. It happened so quietly that neither girl were prepared for the unexpected joy the other would entice from their burgeoning relationship.

And as they stood alone in the quiet park, mere months of growing their fondness for one another, Rosalie felt the first stirrings of something sweet and sickly in her stomach. A fluttering almost, and as Natalia smiled up at her, her face impossibly close, her tongue darting out to wet her lips nervously as her beautiful eyes traced Rosalie’s own mouth - Rosalie Hale was enthralled.

For what Rose didn’t know, given her age and inexperience of the world, was that like called to like. While Rosalie is perceived as an over polished jewel in sea of over polished jewels - how she longed to finally be free to shine. To not have to worry about what dress to wear or what to say at her fathers dinner parties. To have a real hug from her mother, or to freely explore the flutters in her stomach caused by Natalia…

As their lips met tentatively and briefly, so quickly to blink would be slower - Rosalie shone so brightly, and freely, she feared she’d burst into tiny stars. It was so euphoric, she felt like she was floating and her toes silently curled.

But everything that dared to shine could easily be eclipsed in their unforgiving world, even the sun, the most powerful thing in their solar system, and every day, the stars are hidden away. For this was New York, and here, she could be strung up and killed for such a brazen act of debauchery. Her eyes widened briefly as her mind caught up with her wild heart.

“Do not do that ever again, it is perverse” Rosalie angrily whispered with poison as her hands shook in terror. It crippled her to see Natalia’s fearful, regretful face crumble, her own light diminished as Rose suddenly flicked her hair over her shoulder, turned around, and briskly walked away from the first girl she cared for other than Genevieve - but this was somehow different, only Rose was a little too young to understand.

Maybe Rosalie and Natalia were square pegs but Rose will be damned if she didn’t force herself into the round hole that was her parents world.

Later that week, she overheard Natalia’s father speaking to her father over a cigar and she paled at the hushed words.

“I’m sorry friend, I must take my leave. I thank you for your friendship these last months” Natalia’s father said, his voice deep and husky.

“Nonsense, you needn’t leave, we like you here, you’re family is good to this town. Just put your wife in her place, never let a woman tell you what to do!” Her father bellowed with a low laugh.

“My wife is my partner Mr. Hale. If she is not enjoying her life here, it is my duty as her husband to correct that.” The man said, his voice stern and Rosalie couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy as it coated her tongue like smoke and she clung tighter to the banister on the wide, hidden staircase.

“Pfff, what of our girls? They’ve grown fond of one another” Rosalie held her breath at her fathers blatant desperation.

“Ah, indeed. But I think it’s time my dear Natalia makes new friends” the man diplomatically replied, though Rosalie felt she heard sadness in his tone. Rosalie tuned out the gentlemen as her father grew more and more desperate until his guest finally excused himself.

Rosalie didn’t register the tears that fell down her face or the bile that climbed her throat as she sat in shock. The door to the office opened and Natalia’s father sped from the room, he tipped his hat to the servant that offered him his coat and as he turned he made eye contact with the young Hale.

“Be kind to yourself, Miss Hale” he said quietly, with a small sigh, his wise eyes the same colour as his daughters, before he dipped his head and left.

Rosalie’s heart hurt; usually her blatant cruelty didn’t affect her, but Natalia’s betrayed eyes and clear influence to have her family move - it hurt in her chest. Her lip quivered and, to stop herself from blubbering on the staircase, she ran to her room, and promptly flung herself into her pillows as she cried and cried and cried until sleep beckoned her into its oily arms.

~

~ Present Day ~

Rosalie had kissed many people since that day with Natalia, and never once did her toes curl or her heart-rate skyrocket. Of course, for the most part, her heart could not physically do so. Although her coven members swore that their hearts mimicked the fluttering sensation whenever they shared special moments with their mates.

Rosalie thought that they were damn fools.

Isabella made a small noise in the back of her throat as she tugged Rosalie closer with her deft fingers, forcing Rose back to her present more pleasurable circumstances.

Isabella’s strong arm snaked around Rosalie’s back and slowly tickled down her back leaving a trail of sensitive skin behind, even though their clothes still separated them.

Rosalie didn’t even register the gasp that escaped her lips when Isabella tantalisingly licked and nibbled at her bottom lip, requesting entrance. Or their shared moans as she opened her mouth and their tongues met and began to twine and dance together as though they were made to do so.

Rosalie suddenly felt bolder as she allowed her own hands to wonder from their vice grip atop Isabella’s heaving chest. With each inch she explored - the strong shoulders and arms, the slim waist and over her taut, muscular abdomen - Rosalie felt the slick heat gathering between her legs increase.

Her hot centre throbbed as Isabella’s own hands found purchase atop Rosalie’s ass and Isabella growled as she squeezed the firm flesh and the surprise of the primal noise had Rose moaning into Isabella’s hungry mouth.

When Rosalie pulled away, Isabella chased her swollen lips with her eyes closed and the hands on her ass tried to pull the retreating body back to her. It surprisingly thrilled Rosalie to see the evidence of what one kiss did to the woman, her chest heaved as she sucked in and exhaled breath after breath, her lips were swollen and pink and her skin had a flush to it that made her look so god damn alive . Rosalie thrilled at the sight, and the vampire in her raged at her to take more.

As Isabella’s beautiful brown eyes finally fluttered open, her confused gaze met Rosalie’s significantly darker molten orbs. Isabella adopted a self satisfied grin as she gently took Rosalie’s hand and twined their fingers together. The unexpected sweet act had Rosalie moving before she even realised it.

She couldn’t help but smirk as she moved closer and quickly latched onto Isabella’s neck with a bruising kiss, the slight suction had Isabella groan so loudly that Rosalie felt the vibration against her lips and it shot a wave of pleasure throughout her whole body right down to her curled toes.

“Fuck” Isabella cursed and Rosalie’s smirk widened as she felt Isabella’s fingers tug her closer and slide down to return to her round ass. Rosalie revelled in the sheer elation as Isabella’s need grew so exponentially that she felt herself being lead backwards towards her cabin that they’d forgotten.

She kissed and sucked on her inviting neck and her gums ached with her refusal to let her fangs drop, her vampire hummed with anticipation. Would she finally crack with this unbearable pleasure, the need to puncture Isabella’s neck was almost too much to bear. Would she finally taste human blood? She wondered worriedly (admittedly, also rather giddily).

Isabella hummed seductively, either stupidly unaware of the apex predator currently latched onto her neck, or was she simply ignoring the instincts that should be shouting at her to run? Rosalie, for once, didn’t care.

“I need your, ohh fuck Rose” Isabella gasped as Rosalie licked up her no doubt bruised throat.

“What was that?” She asked with a grin.

“I said I, mmmm” Isabella groaned as Rosalie licked and sucked at her earlobe.

“I didn’t catch that…” Rose husked into her ear and delighted in the feeling of Isabella’s body as it shivered against her.

“I need your lips” Isabella said with conviction, and Rosalie was helpless to stop the girl as she pivoted their bodies and promptly roughly pushed her against a wooden column at the base of the steps that’d take her to her front door.

Rosalie didn’t have time to think as Isabella’s soft lips were suddenly pressed against her own. Hard. Their bodies aligned together like missing puzzle pieces, magnets that searched for one another. Rosalie didn’t dare overthink the swirling emotions that were desperate to overwhelm her, instead, she allowed herself the thrill and unexpected joy of being pressed so wonderfully against this beautiful stranger.

“Oh stars Rose, you’re so,” Isabella nibbled Rosalie’s bottom lip, her pools of dark chocolate eyes bore into Rosalie’s body, and she whimpered as Isabella kissed at her throat, “fucking beautiful” she whispered against her lips. Rosalie smiled unabashedly as Isabella’s fingers slid down her hard body and rested at her hips. Rose knew she was beautiful, but having Isabella say this, with her hooded eyes and swollen lips - it did filthy, unspeakable things to her mind and body.

Isabella pulled away and as they stared at one another, lips thoroughly kissed, necks damp with their wet kisses, chests heaving and eyes blazing with need. Rosalie swallowed the gathering emotion in her throat as Isabella slowly tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and her hand lingered for a few seconds, enough for Rosalie to greedily take in her scent and commit it to her memory.

She was frozen in her spot, resting contentedly against the wooden beam. Isabella smiled softly until she placed both of her hands against Rosalie’s face and achingly sweetly, kissed her with everything she had.

“Inside, now” Isabella commanded after what felt like years but it must’ve been a few minutes. She eagerly lead their joined bodies towards the stairs, and usually, Rosalie would glare and argue at such a demand - but instead, she nodded as she was lead backwards and up the stairs all the while, Isabella kissed her fucking senseless.

Rosalie hadn’t noticed how her toes had curled several times during their impossibly slow ascent to her door, slightly tripping up a couple of stairs nor during the tantalising time leading up to the moment her hand found the cold door handle.

She turned her body to unlock the door and smiled as Isabella wrapped her arms around her body and hungrily kissed down her neck, her warm body pressed into Rosalie’s back.

She was so distracted as she opened the door that she missed Isabella greedily breathing in her scent at her scent glands below her ears. If she had noticed, she’d have thought it an odd thing for a human to do.

Instead, she swiftly turned and pulled the brunette into her sanctuary and carelessly began unbuttoning the woman’s tattered shirt.

Her inner vampire thrilled at the husky smell of Isabella’s arousal and the sight of her desire filled eyes as she continued to kiss up and down Rosalie’s neck, to her collarbone with renewed vigour.

“Where is your room?” Isabella mumbled against her neck, her eyes darting around the open plan space, and Rosalie breathily laughed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s up those stairs, it’s a loft set up - I like the view” Rosalie shrugged nervously as Isabella tore her mouth from her ministrations and her eyes searched for the strong ladder that lead to Rosalie’s huge luxury bedroom. Her brown almost green eyes greedily drank in Rosalie’s body like she was the last river in the desert. Rose shivered.

“I think I’ll like the view too…” Isabella half- smirked and she licked her lips. Rosalie’s answering smirk and eye-roll had Isabella gripping her by her clothes and she gasped at the desire that shot through at the dominating action and happily allowed herself to be lead towards the stairs.

And if asked, Rosalie would deny it with everything she had, but she knew the truth. She knew, that in the short time kissing and teasing Isabella, a complete stranger, Rosalie Hale had never shone brighter. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 

Witch business pt 1

~ Isabella ~
(Several years earlier)

“That’s the second time a witch got me with that damn dagger” she complained through gritted teeth. Orion’s panic and disbelief filtered through their connection as she hastily restored it, silently asking their friend to quieten their emotions – she really didn’t need a migraine as well. 

“Do you – think – we lost him?” A feminine voice panted as they rounded a sharp dark corner and surreptitiously hid by the huge dumpster. Isabella groaned in pain and shook her head in exasperation.

“Well he’ll probably have to go lick his wounds for a bit” she offered as she roughly pressed a palm against her wound, “maybe a day or two?” She contemplated aloud.

“What a fucking nightmare” her companion said with her arms flailing in the air before her eyes widened “Christ, that crazy bastard is loose and…” Isabella felt concerned eyes roaming over her body as she shifted this way and that trying in vain to get comfortable, “you’re wounded” a sharp string of curses followed the statement and Isabella winced. 

Orion’s worry increased – her head began to throb and she groaned, completely exhausted by the nights turn of events. 

“Mhm, it is a bit of a pickle” Isabella half-smiled as she ended all pretence and instead, stumbled into the cool brick behind her, and leaning the majority of her weight on the wall, she finally clutched at her wounded side uselessly willed her blood to cease its pouring from the open stab wound. 

Orion’s warnings of her taking more precautions until they fully completed the merge, when her body would become the closest thing to invulnerable any creature on the planet could get – echo’s in her mind. Of course in order to reach this great feat, Isabella and Orion would require to give whatever memories they had left. 

And both were reluctant to do so for their own reasons. One they shared however, was that it hurt like a morherfucker and the other obvious reason was that it put them in an extremely vulnerable state. Imagine a caterpillar hanging from a tree, though cocooned they may be, they were also more vulnerable to l predators. To exchange memories, it started the process of their ‘transformation’ and afterwards they’d need to enter their ‘hibernation’ state to finalise any changes, this is where her abilities may be altered, her body and mind strengthened along with her very DNA being rewritten. It was complex and Isabella didn’t have the energy or time for it yet. They could hold off for a while longer. 

“A pickle?! Really, Isabella? You’ve been stabbed, you’re profusely bleeding, not to mention the wounded and pissed off witch roaming freely around Prague…” Isabella grimaced at the shrill tone that shocked her back to the present.

“Your stating of our current predicament is not helping anyone you know.” She rolled her eyes, “and you’re the one that confronted him when I said not to…” she smirked as she recited in exaggerated air quotes ‘your perverse use of magic is offensive to our kind, and it not only poses a great risk to our safety but that of the other creatures in this city! I beseech you to stop!” Isabella finished, with her over pronounced British accent that vexed the witch if the sudden flare of irritation in her hazel eyes were anything to go by. 

“Oh stop it, and I don’t sound like that! Anyway, it’s true and I stand by what I said, blood magic is absolutely forbidden as you well know, so many people died Isabella” the woman interrupted, with a dark and haunting  look in her eyes. 

“You’re cute when you’re upset, Cecile,” Cecile stuck out her tongue playfully “and I never said I disagreed with your statement, it’s why I offered my help after all and as for the actions of your coven mate…”

“Former!” Cecile spat as she bent down to examine Isabella’s wound. Isabella eyed her wearily. 

“Right, former coven mate – we will see that he gets his due comeuppance” she said with steel in her eyes and Cecile nodded sadly “anyway, it doesn’t matter now does it? Let’s just get cleaned up and rethink our strategy a bit. Try get ourselves out of this pickle jar” Isabella wiggled her brows at the stupid joke. Cecile sighed, but her lips formed a small smile nevertheless before she quickly prodded Isabella’s slowly healing wound, Isabella hissed suddenly as the witch recited a quiet spell and she swiftly swatted at the still outstretched dully glowing hand. 

“Fine fine, Christ you’re annoying” Isabella rolled her eyes, “A pickle, honestly” the witch muttered under her breath, her smile widening, and it highlighted her soft features. She looped a strong arm under Isabella and began to drag the injured woman away from the brick wall. 

“I’m hungry” Isabella said seriously after several beats of silence and minutes of being pulled in the general direction of their hotel. Cecile’s surprised feminine laughter echoed ominously as they stumbled through the softly lit cobbled streets of Prague. 

~ 

“We should call the vampires” Isabella said as she carefully threaded the needle to begin stitching her wound, in a last ditch attempt to speed up the healing. 

“I’d usually argue otherwise…but you may be right, unfortunately…” Cecile said as she sat on the edge of her single bed in their hotel room, slowly twirling her brown hair at the ends, “and why isn’t it healing? I literally saw you flung out of a ten story building and watched as your bones reset themselves and the internal bleeding heal in minutes, but a simple stab wound? It’s been ages Issa” Cecile watched in muted horror as Isabella carefully wove the needle and thread through her flesh, forcibly closing the wound. She chose to ignore the nickname, because she hadn’t the energy to correct the frustrating woman. 

“The bastard used a demonic blade” Isabella said, and quickly added “it was also covered in complex runes, very rare, I’m not sure how he came to possess it” she finished in tone that said she would offer no further information. 

For Isabella trusted very, very few people, and Cecile, a London coven leaders eldest daughter of thirty two; with a secret personal vendetta against the man they currently hunted – was not amongst those few by any means. Seemingly to recognise this, Cecile wisely remained quiet and began searching through her rucksack for something or other. 

“Mother would no doubt prefer to keep witch business to ourselves, these things can be so…” she paused as she pulled out a bag of toiletries “delicate” she finished with a pointed look. 

“I know, and I get it, I really do. But Jeremy, not only has a powerful weapon,” she cut the thread with her teeth and withheld her hiss of pain at the sharp tug “but he’s also practicing blood magic and in doing so, poisoning the local humans’ blood. Which has serious consequences for vampires, they-“ she winced at the sudden biting pain that pulsed from the base of her neck “I can’t go into detail” she gestured nonchalantly at her neck, to the tattoo that prevented her from sharing specific details that her clients didn’t wish for her to share, effectively a magical and bespoke NDA, “but, I will say, that the vampires need to know of this. It could protect their kind, and most importantly – to me anyway, safeguard the humans they feed from and potentially turn – annnnd it’s somehow my job to try and protect humanity from the supernatural world” and the supernatural world from themselves, she neglected to add. 

Cecile nodded grimly, either too exhausted to argue or knowing that it would be futile – Isabella wasn’t certain. She was a difficult person to read, and her abilities went a bit haywire around powerful witches. 

She quickly decided that she’d complete more of the merge as soon as possible, and the thought made Orion both happy and apprehensive. It was not only a painful process but sharing your memories, the deeds you’ve done, done to you, and the things you’ve witnessed – it was a gruelling and sobering experience. But they remained invulnerable in their reluctance to share more of themselves and neither enjoyed the feeling of that blade as it sank easily into her usually impenetrable flesh like warm butter. 

“I’ll just get ready for bed then, make your calls if you want, when I’m done, we’ll go over our plan” she didn’t wait for Isabella to respond and instead, padded towards the small shared bathroom. Isabella waited until the shower could be heard before she pulled out her cell and pressed the speed dial number. It rang twice before she heard a familiar deep voice. 

“Isabella Swan, what a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Hello Marcus, I apologise for the late call but there’s something you need to be aware of” she said diplomatically. 

“Oh? Please do go on” his voice was warm, though she was under no illusion that he was anything less than ruthless and cunning. He was still the King that she tolerated the most. Marcus was silent as she explained her predicament, humming at certain intervals and tutting in others. 

“Intriguing though this situation may be, what do you need from me?” Marcus asked incredulously and without a single hint of concern. She sighed. Why must she spell it out for them every single time?

“It would be helpful if you could send a representative to my location. Preferably someone with an offensive gift, they can also help to keep you informed of our progress, liaising with myself and my Wiccan contacts to do so. We don’t anticipate too much trouble with Jeremy but, the extra fire power may help, just to be safe” she advised and Marcus hummed, contemplative.

“This Jerimiah…” Marcus began.

“Jeremy” she corrected, slightly irritated. But the sound of the flowing shower lulled her into a strange sense of calm, it was most likely Orion’s calming presence though.

“Jeremy, my apologies,” he said, amusement in his light tone, “this Jeremy, he is using illicit magic, yes? It seems to me a problem for the witches to resolve no?” Isabella grit her teeth and clenched her jaw. She really would need to spell everything out to the vampires. 

She found them impossible sometimes, you’d think their longevity on the earth, the things they’ve seen and done – would make them the most intelligent beings on the planet? But oh, no. In fact, their exceptionally long existence made them lazy - curious over inconsequential things, and not curious enough about the important stuff. Entirely reactive. In Isabella’s opinion, the Volturi wasted their second lives hiding in their fortresses, playing with their food. ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’ – but only when you actually deign to wear the fucking thing!

But her contract with the vampirc self elected monarchy was still new, to both parties, so she’d have to be patient before they can begin to see the value of it, of her influence. It’s a good job Isabella could be patient, thanks to Orion’s influence mostly. 

“Jeremy is using illegal blood magic, it’s something most covens around the world forbid the practice of. It has great consequences to the wielder and those nearby. Mostly, the human populous” she managed to say, deciding that this could be a learning opportunity, given her love of knowledge and sharing it, she relished in sharing this fact with the old king, “it infects them, like a virus or infection, for lack of a better explanation. The magic, especially if the wielder uses human blood to conjure and wield, subsequently poisons their blood. 
If a vampire were to then feed on or even turn, an infected human…well, it could be catastrophic and would present you with a serious mess to clean up” she explained the issue in further detail in Italian to the old King, being mindful of potential ears listening in on their conversation. He had a few more questions for her, mostly to settle his curiosity and flex her knowledge.

“If this is so bad, how have we never noticed such an event before?” Marcus asked dubiously. 

“You have, you just didn’t know what the true cause was at the time. Seemingly normal, rational, Vampires who seemingly changed overnight. Behaving more irrational, beastly, violent?” Marcus hummed in acknowledgment “Slaughtering villages, turning children… breaking your laws left and right with little concern for the consequences. You stopped them, but after a lot of the damage had already been done – sound familiar?” Marcus neither agreed nor disagreed and so she didn’t mention the several human plagues that were linked to blood magic gone awry. It did sound ridiculous, but Orion had witnessed this a few times in their long existence between their long hibernations after failed merge attempts. 

“I see,” Marcus finally said after several quiet seconds, “and this vampire representative will help you stop this threat? Mop up another species’ mess?” He asked curiously. 

“Yes, and in doing so, they may help stop a threat to your kind Marcus. This is proactive work, I’m sure your people will be impressed to hear how you stepped in and stopped this threat?” A bit of flattery did wondrous things for the Volturi monarchy, but it did make her skin crawl a bit, “just like the actions of one vampire does not represent your entire race, nor does Jeremy represent his coven or the witches as a general supernatural species. You’re all intelligent and old enough to know this” Marcus scoffed, “Your kind are not without your own errors in judgement I’m sure, and I promise that the witches will deal with the matter according to their own laws, and I will support them implicitly. I have their coven leaders representative with me. 

I am offering you a chance to utilise my services, my connections and unique skills to protect your people, as well as your food source” she finished, disgusted with that last sentence but hoping it may sway him. 

They could handle the issue without the vampires sure enough but this was an opportunity she could use to show them first hand the benefits of their arrangement. It was selfish of course, though she was contractually and morally obligated to inform the ancient Kings of the threat to their people… holding her breath, she felt Orion’s sparkling pride and she exhaled. 

“Hmm, fine. We will send someone to your location. I expect regular reports on your progress.” He finally acquiesced and she rolled her eyes, “and Isabella?” She swallowed her anxiety and hummed in response, “thank you for your warning and for allowing us to intervene” with that half baked thank you, they exchanged awkward farewells.

“Why are they so fucking difficult?” She muttered as she slumped against the soft bed and swiftly buried her head into the pillow. But she would take whatever help she could muster, she had no connections to any shifter packs in this part of Europe and she hadn’t the time or resources to search for them, so she had no way of warning them of the increasing threat moving silently through their territory. 

She closed her tired eyes, hoping they’d be fast enough to stop Jeremy before anyone else died or was hurt. 

“Okay, so we have a plan” Cecile said with renewed optimism. “It’s a loose plan, but a plan nevertheless” Cecile said, less optimistically. Isabella rolled her eyes to the sky, unsure whether it was the British or Wiccan in the woman that made her so contradictory all of the time. 

“Yep, we know where he’s headed, although whether he’s allowing us to find him or he’s simply ran out of juice to stop our tracking abilities, I’m not sure” Isabella worriedly said, “I’m hoping it’s the latter, but we’ll have to be extra cautious just in case he’s leading us into a trap of some sort” Cecile rubbed at her temple as Isabella methodically packed her bag, her hair still damp from the shower. 

“Fabulous. So we intercept him before he crosses the border, try and talk some sense into him, and if that doesn’t work…” Cecile sighed, “we’ll stop him” she finished sadly.

“We’ll stop him” Isabella repeated quietly, her eyes briefly flashing their emerald green before she gently and a bit awkwardly patted Cecile’s slumped shoulders. She quickly leant around the shorter woman to examine their map. 

“If we camp here tonight” she pointed to a private park near the boarder, “we can zero in on where he’ll likely pop up”. 

“Okay, I can probably cloak our presence there too” Cecile offered with a smile. 

“Good. I’ll keep tracking him in case he changes course, but he’s weak, I can feel it” Isabella self consciously rubbed at the healing wound. 

“He used too much energy getting away from us, he won’t get away again” Cecile’s promise was dangerous and determined. 

“No, he won’t” Isabella agreed with equal determination. 

~ two days later  ~

“Cecile!” Isabella shouted as she swiftly erected a shimmering and transparent protective shield between them and their sneaky attacker. 

“I’m okay, just winded” her companion muttered as she stood and dusted her jeans off. 

“Who is this asshole?” Isabella grit as she held her palm steady. 

“Jeremy’s younger brother, Micah” Cecile advised with a pointed glare in the general direction of the young man who’d attacked them as they camped. Isabella had just been about to warm their food through on the fire. She glared in regret at the spilled rice and beans, which would now make a nice meal for the local wildlife. What kind of monster attacks during dinner? She thought and Orion’s giggle made her groan. 

“So not funny, O” she whispered as she returned her flickering emerald gaze to the tall trees. 

“I- I’m sorry, but I can’t let you kill him, Cece” the attacker – Micah shouted from the trees, and Isabella sighed. 

“He’s broken several laws Micah, but if he turns himself in, he won’t die. I can promise you this, you have my word” Cecile shouted back. Isabella decided that she was quite sick of this assignment and was looking forward to finishing her doctorate in the fall and teaching her classes. Orion’s ongoing amusement tickled her insides and she smiled briefly. 

“What of the outsider? What of her word?” The voice shouted, Isabella had already located the man, she could see the heat signature of his body several feet away, crouched behind a large tree. Her night vision was a bit like an owls in it’s clarity, especially in their bright green state – her (new) true form. 

The brown eyes from her human life were an illusion used to blend in better. Given her green eyes were far, far too noticeable and unusual for humans and other creatures to not ask questions about. But in times of heightened emotion or when using her abilities, she unconsciously dropped the magical illusion. 

“She’s with me, she’s a friend of our coven” 

“How can I trust you’ll treat him fairly?” He asked, despair in his desperate tone. Isabella pitied the man, who clearly loved his brother and could not see the man for what he’d become. Funny how family rarely acknowledged the darkness living so obviously inside their loved one. A flash of golden eyes and a small excited pixie entered her mind and she shut it down before Orion could latch onto it. Xe knew of the Cullen’s, but she hated dwelling on them. 

“He will be judged fairly for his crimes Micah, but he’s hurt people. Children for fuck sake” Isabella breathed in Micha’s dismay, “he must face punishment. But if he attacks us, we will have no choice but to defend ourselves. But not before offering him the chance to turn himself in to face judgement from his coven. I assure you this” Isabella said diplomatically, before she cautiously lowered her palm to lower the protective shield. She groaned at the energy it took to hold it. She grew impossibly stronger after their merge and the smaller ones following, so she couldn’t fathom how much stronger she might be when their transition was fully finalised. But her energy and power presently, whilst impressive, was not unlimited – she would require rest and food to recharge. 

“I just wanted to reach him first, try to reason with him, but he went on and on about his new magic, he ran away and I lost him in Prague. I’m worried for him” the voice cracked at the end and Isabella felt utter sadness and fear emanating from Jeremy’s brother. 

“I know, me too” Cecile admitted. 

“Ow! Fuck a duck, what the fuck?” Micah shouted and he surged forward. As the lanky man broke the tree line, Isabella noticed the tight grip on his right forearm, he ran carelessly towards them, his face contorted in mild pain and fear. How had this idiot got the drop on them? She thought self-deprecatingly. 

Her eyes allowed her to clearly see the blur that raced in front of him faster than a bullet, only one creature moved like that. Isabella groaned in annoyance, and she held out her hand to grip the creature by the neck, before proficiently slamming the hard body down to the earth. The creature grunted at the sudden impact and a tiny crater formed beneath them. 

“Fuck, if i knew this is how you would greet your representatives, I wouldn’t have volunteered!” The feminine voice said, amusement in the light tone, it’s owner, was a woman – a vampire – she had pinned violently to the dirty woodland floor. “But if you want to pin me down later, I’d be more than happy to oblige” the voice was significantly lowered into a sultry tone and Isabella’s head tilted in confusion. She released the vampire, who stood abruptly. “Huh, your eyes are brown now, I liked the green though this works too” gold eyes raked shamelessly over her body, and she felt suddenly naked in her thin waterproof jacket, black combat pants and boots. 

“Who…”

“Right. Marcus sent me to assist, though I‘m not entirely sure why” the woman – the very attractive woman emphasised her point with a seductive smirk. 

Isabella finally noted her beauty, given that she no longer registered this creature as a threat. she had subtle curves at the waist, long straight almost white blond hair and a distracting smirk that lit up her gold eyes. Her body was subtly muscular, as though she’d trained it relentlessly. A warriors body. Isabella flushed at the knowing feline grin that spread wider on the vampires face. Stupid beautiful, deadly creatures. She thought and Orion reluctantly agreed. 

“Kate Denali, nice to meet you.” She held out her perfect hand and as Isabella clasped it gently, she gasped at the sudden electricity that flowed through her veins and charged her heart. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 10
Witch Business pt 2

“So this Jeremy, he’s practicing naughty magic that somehow negatively impacts vampires?” Kate queried curiously as she tiptoed precariously back and forth across a  large fallen tree as though this was completely normal.

The remaining party, consisting of Isabella and two bickering witches, sat opposite the vampire on small camping chairs, and were updating Kate on the situation. Isabella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a stray bit of metal was digging into her back and every movement hurt her throbbing wound.

“Basically,” Cecile replied with narrowed eyes as the vampire twirled and pranced on her perch with a playful smile on her pretty face, Isabella’s lip twitched upward in an almost smile, “ blood magic - though it is forbidden among my kind, and the side affect you’re referring to derives from the poisoning of nearby humans’ blood. Which when fed on by you…” Cecile’s judgemental glare was filled with contempt, “ allegedly , it can make you lot behave extra savage, if that’s believable” Cecile finished dryly.

Kate paused her prancing, though her face remained impassive, Isabella braced herself for the inevitable theatrics only an offended vampire could perform. Instead, and to Isabella’s (and definitely Cecile’s) surprise, Kate’s golden eyes sparkled in amusement, a wry smile tugged her full lips.

“ Human blood drinkers, you mean?” Kate corrected rhetorically, unbothered by Cecile’s jibe when she punctuated her point with a wide toothy grin, showcasing her elongated white fangs and quietly resumed her pacing along the dead tree trunk.

Cecile pursed her lips, frustrated that her attempt to rile the vampire had failed. She suddenly whipped her head to Isabella who quickly smothered her amused smile with an awkward clearing of her throat and guilty wince.

“Remind me why we need their presence again? This is witch business after all…” Cecile said sounding like a petulant child, as she shifted closer to Isabella, face slightly disgusted.

“Don’t worry Sabrina, I only bite when absolutely necessary,” Kate interrupted, her sharp fangs glinting as though proving her point, Cecile’s mouth dropped open in shock. “usually I’m not so…” she paused, her dark gaze finding Isabella, “clothed” she finished with a cheeky wink.

Isabella’s cheeks slowly heated and she briefly wondered whether the demons could be missing someone, as she narrowly eyed Kate - her strong, slender warrior defined muscles flexed as she bent this way and that on the branch with supernatural grace, sunlight danced along her pale skin, reflecting white light to the floor and surrounding trees - and Isabella thought that while the vampire was stunning, as all vampires were designed to be, it was more than that obvious thing, which had her eyes glued to the woman.

In the way she found joy in the little things, like when her exposed skin lit up like a Christmas tree contrasted against the browns and greens of the woodland as she twirled and grinned at the beautiful sight she created - she seemed so…content in her own skin.

She seemed so alive!

Isabella wasn’t certain if she was jealous of the easygoing vampire - or simply had the hots for her. Most vampires she met could be so dreary and ‘woe is me’, not to disregard their emotions or experiences that lead them to behave that way, but, it grew tiresome when she was trying so desperately to forget the lingering pain that hid in her chest. Or perhaps she was simply losing her mind , she thought as she finally averted her gaze with a low sigh.

“Kate is here to help,” Isabella repeated towards the fuming witch after her long silence “I think” she muttered and Kate grinned like a feral animal. Cecile merely sat straighter and muttered something unintelligible.

“Cece has a point, I mean I doubt any of us would be in an already dangerous situation, where people could be hurt or killed and think ‘oh, I know how to defuse this, let’s call a vampire , that’ll solve it’” Micah offered with a bashful wince, “they rarely ever help a situation, I mean. Um, but no offence!”’ he mumbled with an awkward and nervous shrug. The pink pigment in his cheeks deepened as he swallowed, his eyes pointedly avoiding Kate’s general direction.

“Maybe so, but I personally take the lives of humans very seriously, Witch. I suggest you don’t forget that fact” she said cooly, it was the first serious statement or response she’d given. And Isabella thought it was both disarming and well, sexy . They settled into an uncomfortable silence before Kate interrupted, “Annnnnyhow, the plan?” Kate’s molten gaze fell on Isabella and she shifted, uncomfortable with holding the vampires burning eyes.

Isabella stood, cleared her throat with a low cough and pointedly ignored the protesting pain throbbing from her healing wound.

“Um, right. So the plan …”

“…is a fucking disaster” Isabella said through gritted teeth as she paced frantically in the drab hotel room, her eyes blazing green. Orion’s gentle nudge was the only comfort which allowed her to unclench her white-knuckled fists.

Kate groaned as she sat rubbing at a few of the visible little cracks that littered her perfect porcelain skin.

“That could’ve gone better, I’ll admit” Kate muttered. Isabella whirled on the nonchalant blonde, whose single raised amused brow rattled Isabella further.

“I fail to see how it could have possibly gone worse!” Isabella hissed, her arms flailing wildly in the air, the sudden  movement would certainly aggravate her new wounds of various sizes. Though, they would heal over soon enough.

Kate’s breathy giggle had Isabella’s eyes flashing in warning. Of course, the vampire ignored her and instead, crossed the room slowly, allowing Isabella to track her deliberate sauntering hips with her bright green eyes. Isabella unconsciously bit her bottom lip as she retreated a step or two, her arms folded across her chest defensively.

She didn’t dare breathe as Kate paused before her, her pretty pale face softened as she painfully gently plucked a stray twig from Isabella’s hair, a wry smile on her mouth.

Isabella remained absolutely still during the event, and remained so even as Kate slowly pulled her hand away, her unique scent - the mixed botanical scents of daffodils and wild flowers, of the first days of Spring - lingered in Isabella’s nose. She didn’t dare dwell on the pleasant smell. Neither did she dare move, or breathe too deeply. She was, for all intents and purposes, a statute.

Kate smiled tenderly, almost bashfully, and Isabella cursed herself for the brief flutters it produced low in her stomach. The blonde warrior sauntered back to the single bed in the far corner and plopped her powerful body in the centre of the mattress, her long toned legs tucked underneath her as she sat cross legged, resuming the close inspection of her arms.

This crush is becoming a distraction! She groaned internally. Nevertheless, Orion scoffed in their shared mind -  for they were delighted these long ago buried emotions were being (forcibly) resurrected.

She’d not had anything remotely resembling a proper crush since… dark eyes, a confident lopsided grin, copper faux-messy styled hair, tortured soul …Isabella swallowed at the sad memory of her first crush, the tall broody vampire who’d abandoned her as though she were nothing but trash.

She closed her eyes briefly and promptly locked the unwelcome feelings in their boxes, locked away in her heart. Orion’s sadness filtered through their shared mind and she shook her head internally. ‘I’m sorry, not yet, I’m not ready yet’. She thought to them, and the foreboding sense of ‘yet’ had her re-clenching her fists into tight balls.

“Well, we could’ve been killed, now that would’ve been pretty shitty” Kate finally replied with a toothy half-smile, her fangs long since retracted. The sarcastic lilted voice successfully jolted Isabella from her melancholy memories.

“Unbelievable” she muttered, exasperated humour in the response. Grateful to the vampire all the same for her interruption.

“Shall we have a little recap? For our own sanity?” Kate asked with a pointed look.

“Fine…” Isabella said, energy depleted.

3 hours earlier

“Well, this isn’t creepy at all ” Kate whispered in the quiet hallway, the noise surprising Isabella who had been concentrating on ignoring the unsettling feeling she had in the pit of her stomach as the foursome tentatively crept along a dark hallway. She scrunched her nose at the foul smells that assaulted her senses.

“You’re a vampire ” Micah spat dryly, though the slight twitch of his mouth gave his amusement away. Kate’s golden eyes flickered to him and a close lipped grin decorated her otherwise stoic face before she tilted her head towards a crooked door at the end of the hallway of the abandoned building.

They’d located Jeremy in Germany, though only a 1.5 hour drive from the city of Prague, his energy signature pinged in and around the derelict building nestled deep inside the Bohemian Switzerland nature reserve. The witch had snuck by them through the night, no doubt depleting his remaining energy to do so, which would be beneficial for them except for the fact that he’d crossed into German territory which complicated matters. Isabella sighed through her nose and focused on her steps, on the lingering eerie darkness stretching out to her body, and on the thin crumbling walls surrounding the group - trying desperately to locate a heat signature.

“Ugh what is that…” Cecile was cut off by Kate’s low growl. A warning. They each stopped still as statues, hearts (minus Kate’s) beating erratically.

Isabella stared at the alert vampire, whose inner beast had transformed her in mere seconds from the easygoing creature the group had started to view her as, to the terrifying supernatural warrior Isabella knew her to be beneath it all. Isabella inhaled sharply and her fist tightened on the hilt of her own rune covered dagger, still sheathed against her thigh.

“Blood” Kate and Isabella muttered simultaneously and Kate’s surprised dark gaze fell briefly to Isabella. Though the brunette’s green eyes were focused entirely on the dark room before them, so she missed the curious assessment given to her by the powerful vampire representative.

“A lot of it” Kate replied grimly. Isabella knew their forlorn expressions no doubt mirrored one another. Isabella’s mind was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice Kate had subconsciously stepped slightly closer to her, altering her stance to that of trained protection.

Too lost in the decisions she would be forced to make in mere moments. Would Jeremy see to reason? Would he deserve mercy - he’d killed innocent people? But what right did she have to make these morally ambiguous choices?

She was not invulnerable, she would need to defend herself and those who accompanied her. Witch business it may be and promise or not to Jeremy’s brother - she would not allow harm to come to any more people if she had the power to stop it, and she did together with her companions, or so she thought. If Jeremy did not yield his vindictive crusade for more power and witch supremacy. They - no, she - would need to stop him.

In her years since their transition, Isabella and Orion had faced many trials. Some physical and some more psychological. Though she tried desperately to grip her humanity in her decisions, asking herself questions such as those that ran through her mind on a loop presently. Orion claimed it was because of her humanity, and her need to preserve it. To cling to some past version of herself.

Creatures that were once human in her experience and with her specialist knowledge tended to lose themselves. Vampires. Were-Creatures. Even shifters. She didn’t want to forget whatever it was that made her, her.

But Isabella was most certainly not human, and though she may find this fact somewhat puzzling given mostly, at this point, she felt the same. She couldn’t deny that she was certainly not the same.

Body, soul and mind. Isabella Swan was irrevocably changed - changing every day - and yet, she fought to maintain both her current self and that of her prior human self too. She was not ready to let go. She was afraid that whatever was left after she did would be unrecognisable to even herself - and not all of it was ‘good’.

Orion however, knew that their friend would soon learn she did not belong with the humans, as those creatures who changed similarly discovered sooner or later. For her very soul and DNA had been irreversibly altered. It’s true, they didn’t want her to harden too much, so much so that she became unrecognisable to herself - hated herself.

Orion would never forgive themself - though they may struggle greatly with expressing and understanding the vast spectrum of heightened emotions their host, and friend experienced - it was apparent that they cared deeply for Isabella Marie Swan.

“Something feels off” Isabella murmured as they resumed their uncertain steps on the concrete floor, growing closer to the door. Kate bristled at the confession, her instincts on high alert, the electricity in her veins charged and ready for combat.

“I feel it too” Kate replied. Micah made to agree before he tripped over his own foot, Kate swiftly caught his elbow and straightened the clumsy man before he could fall. Once more Isabella felt irritated that the untrained witch had managed to get the drop on them in their camp.

Isabella reached the door and with one final glance at her group, she cracked it open and tentatively stepped through the small opening…

Chapter Text

Chapter 11
Witch Business: Part 2 (continued)

The gasp that attempted to leave her lips was caught in her throat as a surge of energy hit her like a boulder, knocking her briefly off her feet and backwards right into the hard front of Kate Denali.

“Umph” Kate grunted, her arms instinctively snaked around the brunette, holding her steady. No doubt the blonde was surprised by the toned warm body currently glued to her front. “Nice form” Kate flirted with a low whistle, her thumb slowly, sensually, sliding down Isabella’s arm. Isabella ignored the warmth that jolted in her stomach.

“Sorry” she muttered as she pulled her body away from the bemused vampire, feeling a bit flustered. Isabella felt the heat on her cheeks, and the traitorous blush had climbed upward and around to the tips of her ears. Great!

“Jesus Christ what the… brother , what have you done ?” Micah’s low tone was that of regret and sorrow. The male witch’s despair startled Isabella back to the matter at hand.

To the too quiet room.

Isabella tore her eyes from Kate’s dark orbs and stared widely around the dark room, accidentally dropping her illusion on her eyes, her luminous green eyes shimmered instead as her mouth dropped open in a stunned ‘o’.

“Fuck” was all she managed to whisper as she took in the utter carnage. The destruction.

Bodies lined around the dirty floor, some stacked atop one another haphazardly beneath a boarded window. Hands tied in uncomfortable positions behind their backs. Some had clearly fallen as they’d tried to run from whoever - from whatever - pursued them. Hurt them. And then, murdered them.

“Môj Bože!” [my God] Kate breathed, stepping next to Isabella. Her dark gold eyes flicking rapidly from face to face, body to body.

“There are so many” Micah pointed out disbelievingly, the warring emotions threatening to bubble over in the form of fat tears.

He was correct unfortunately, there must be twenty some bodies - likely more. Isabella’s heart clenched as she caught sight of a small, limp arm poking out at an awkward angle from beneath a few larger bodies in the farthest corner. She swallowed the lump of despair in her throat and anger ignited in her green eyes.

“How could he do such a terrible thing?” Micah went on, gesturing wildly with his arms, his disbelieving eyes taking in the broken bodies, the deep cuts and scared frozen faces, staring blankly ahead at nothing.

Evidentially, no one was safe, Isabella noted. For the discarded bodies of men, women and children were scattered about the dingy space.

Isabella swallowed and moved deeper inside the large rectangular room, bending down, she tilted the head of an elderly man to the side. Checking for marks, and finding none, she tilted him in the other direction and her eyes narrowed at the symbol the size of her fist crudely carved into the side of his neck. The deep, long since sealed wound was red and raw, dry brown blood clotted against his dirty shirt collar. This man has been dead for a while. She glanced around the room and noticed the bodies in various states of decomposition, clearly Jeremy had dragged his stock out as opposed to using them up simultaneously.

She sighed sadly and focused on the man before her. Isabella’s stomach plummeted as she continued to stare in despair at the angry wound. At the evidence they needed, in addition to the room of dead humans of course - this mark, this symbol . It was a symbol used only for dark magic. Sinister, unpredictable, lethal and all consuming:

Blood magic .

Isabella stiffly swallowed the whimper in her throat as she gently closed his lids, his terrified unseeing ice-grey eyes forever etched in her memory.

She closed her eyes tightly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She could practically taste the rotten flesh, could still feel the remnants of their fear, of their despair.

She clenched her jaw tightly, desperately reigning in her power which simmered restlessly beneath her skin. It seemed to beg for blood. To avenge these people and the others Jeremy had murdered. Used for their life force and discarded like they were irrelevant. Isabella remembered a time in her life she too was weak and brutalised for the amusement and sport of another creature far more powerful than she.

Her head hurt with the need to unleash, to bring justice to these poor people, to the families they left behind.

Blood for blood.

But this was not her way, it was not her job, she was wanted to preserve the peace between the creatures of the planet. To observe and learn, and to only ever intervene when the supernatural world was in danger of discovery or destruction. It was her promise to Orion, and to herself.

She was not the judge, jury and executioner in this story. In their stories.

She wanted to scream until her lungs were sore, until her throat was raw and bled. Instead, she breathed in and out one last time.

With gritted teeth, she opened her eyes and stood on firm legs. Orion’s pride flashed through her heart and she took strength from it. From their bond.

“He’s not here, his scent is weak, I think he will return though” Kate commented holding  a full duffle bag, the warriors face impassive, focused.

“He does not know we have found him” Cecile offered as she bent to close another set of cold eyes. “I will do a cloaking spell on us, if you could scrub our energy?” Isabella nodded robotically and began her given task, muttering and drawing various runes with her fingertips.

A skill she’d been taught by another witch and had near perfected in her relentless training with Orion as she slumbered. It took a great concentration of power, of which Isabella had in buckets. Most witches power would be depleted using such a spell, but she was no witch. Isabella wasn’t entirely certain what she was - but that wasn’t the point.

“Do not touch any of the bodies” Isabella advised as her outstretched hand glowed a faint silver, “I doubt he’d notice given he’ll be drunk on blood magic, but if he does, it might give our presence away. We need to preserve the element of surprise” she finished as she flicked her wrist and promptly felt a sudden surge of her power.

Bright silver light flowed beneath her skin, through her veins, her green eyes intensifying with a thin ring of silver energy. She directed the energy to the room, to the living occupants, successfully cloaking their energies - their life forces, auras, souls, whatever people preferred to refer to their unique life essence. The witches preferred the term energy , because that is what most of the planet was made from and subsequently the spells they could perform were heavily reliant on. Everything had an energy. Isabella and Orion related to this definition and so adopted it too.

Kate blew a quiet whistle as she turned her arm this way and that, silently inspecting the faint silver glow that faded slowly around the limb.

“He used a protection spell” Kate commented seemingly to herself, “on the door? When you opened it, you shot back from the magic. How did you get through it? Or was it just an alert system?” She puzzled.

“No, I think it was more of a warning to any trespassers, particularly humans. He didn’t expect anyone to find his… this place” Cecile replied curtly, gesturing to the space.

“He wouldn’t know the proper spells to keep me out. Nor would he have the power to do so - even with…” she eyed the bodies and swallowed “even with all their blood” Kate watched her curiously.

“Kate can you confirm, are they…” she paused, closing her eyes briefly, “are they drained?”

“Yes” she nodded solemnly, “not a drop left”

“Stars” she breathed, “it’s as I thought,” Isabella mumbled, “what is his goal here, really?” She puzzled, more so to herself. Jeremy didn’t seem this callous, this cruel. But power - this kind of power - it was a disease that sucked your very soul out, replacing any light with only darkness.

“Power” Cecile confirmed, “he was ostracised from the coven most of his life for his archaic beliefs about the status of witches in the supernatural world. He was always banging on and on about how he wanted to restore our rightful place at the top” she shrugged, “he’s cuckoo bananas, but his family is old. So he remained in the coven. My mother never liked him or his preaching though. Said he unsettled the young witchlings, so she kept him away from the general coven”

“One witch could not accomplish what he seeks to do” Kate commented suspiciously, eying the female witch.

“No, he couldn’t. But he’s used so much blood magic, he’s certifiably crazy. Drunk on power, dark power that bleeds into your soul and corrupts it.”

“ Can we stop him?” Micah asked nervously, glancing around at the deceased and brutalised bodies, decaying before their very eyes.

“I will stop your brother Micah, make no mistake, and I will see that he is made to pay for this” Cecile replied, her tone cold and unfeeling. Micah stumbled slightly, his tears freely falling down his face as he nodded sadly. His brother was lost to him now, he knew this. They all did. They need only look around to see the evidence of it.

The witch, the man, the brother , Micah knew. Was gone. Had been gone for a long while.

“How can I help?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly. Three sets of eyes met the young male - curious, sad and pitying.

“Pray to the First Witch Micah, because you’ll fucking need it” Cecile responded with a pointed look.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jer” Micah pleaded, his arms raised in a surrender sign, moist palms up and flat. Jeremy glowered at him, his eyes completely black. His unkept hair had grown and lay in lazy ringlets over the tips of his ears. His clothes were disheveled and dirt clung to his tan face and neck.

“Micah….” Jeremy’s deep voice boomed, a long exhausted sigh followed the name. Isabella swallowed, her hand tightening unconsciously around her dagger as she watched the reunion between the brothers. “You should not have come” he stated coldly.

Kate met Isabella’s eyes from her position across the room and Isabella nodded briefly. They promised Micah one chance to get him to see reason. That’s all he would get. One chance. One moment. To search for, to coerce the bother he believed him to be back.

“It’s not too late brother, I can help you…” a sinister laugh echoed throughout the room, the sound ricocheted off the walls and Isabella felt it rattle her very core. She knew then, as did they all, that Jeremy was truly lost. She felt a profound sadness, and for a moment Isabella wasn’t certain if it was her own or the young man before her. She looked at the young witch, and his crestfallen expression told her all she needed to know.

The sadness belonged solely to him. It blended together with his panic from deep within his heart and spilled into his very energy, his soul. Isabella almost choked on it, on the despair and panic. Orion tried desperately to help centre her - she hated this ability most of all and usually had it shut down, only feeling deep emotions that were projected onto her due to the severity of them. Most people didn’t even realise they did it. She hated it.

It was Kate whose low reassuring nod which allowed her to swallow the unwelcome emotions and memories they dragged into her mind and finally shut the channel down.

“Help me?” Jeremy laughed without humour “Jesus, you were always such a fucking bore, brother ” Isabella watched in horror as Micah was suddenly flung several feet from his position by a swift flick of Jeremy’s wrist. His footsteps drew farther away from her position as he stalked closer to the whimpering young witch.

“We can be stronger than the lot of them. We used to be. We will be again. Join me brother, together, we can restore our rightful place on the top!”

“N-no Jer, it, it’s n-not right” Micah stuttered.

Jeremy’s shook his head and bent on his knee. He lifted his brothers chin, a slow treacle of blood dripped down his cheek from a shallow wound and Jeremy wiped it away with his thumb.

“Jeremy, please ” Micah tried.

“We’ll make them pay, and if I have to kill you to do it, then so be it” Jeremy spat, violently shoving his brothers bruised chin away, his head immediately lowered in shame or despair.

Isabella didn’t stall any longer. She rose and stepped into a shadow of her making, manipulating it to hide her body as she sped towards the Blood Witch in a whirl of dark fury.

Isabella shot out her hand and gripped Jeremy’s wrist before he could inflict more pain onto his poor brother. The witches eyes widened as he took in the body of the stranger who’d appeared before him in a cloud of black smoke and shadow.

“I don’t think so buddy” Isabella said.

“I wondered when you’d show your face, dark creature” he said, and she was momentarily offended by the strange nickname. Until he swiftly wrenched his arm free and slammed his palm flat against Isabella’s chest as he muttered a powerful defensive spell.

Isabella was sent several feet back, her body slamming violently against a wall, the old stone crumbled around her, dust clouds floated in front of her face as she slumped to the floor with a low grunt.

She quickly dusted herself off when she saw a crackling blur whizz toward Jeremy, a glint of a silver long sword shone and sparked with electricity as it was brought down and thrust into Jeremy’s shoulder.

The witch howled and narrowed his eyes at the vampire warrior, who wore a cruel smirk as she kept her defensive stance, sword dripping blood clenched in her fist. Her blonde hair had been tied back though her skin crackled with electric energy as the little bolts danced along her bare arms. Isabella briefly thought she looked very, very hot. She shook her head. Not the time, she scolded herself.

The witch suddenly snarled at the stoic vampire as he threw spell after spell at the her, most of which she dodged with her superior reflexes. Though, Isabella watched in horror as some landed on her body - deep cracks forming immediately.

Isabella ran at the witch at an impossible speed, her eyes blazing bright green as she slammed her body into his with a loud crash.

“Stop, for fuck sake, you won’t win this fight” she said through gritted teeth as she struggled to subdue the writhing man.

“Hold him steady” Kate grit out as she approached and gripped his wounded arm so tight she heard the beginnings of his bones crushing. The man hissed between his teeth as blood spilled from the wound in a slow treacle. Jeremy maintained his pulling and wriggling as his eyes widened in pain and anger.

“Jeremy, please listen to us” his brother tried from a short distance away, his eyes bloodshot, his cheeks tear stained. Jeremy merely laughed, staring pointedly at the open space behind them.

Several things happened at once…

Kate was suddenly assaulted by hundreds of tiny shards of solid silver titanium, the vampire cried out and fell to the ground, immediately loosening her grip on the man’s arm. She frantically began clawing at the shards and pulling them from her body.

Isabella glared widely at Jeremy, before a sharp stabbing pain emanated from her back. Shock reverberated throughout her body at the pain. She too, sank to the cold concrete floor, blood oozing from the new wound and soaking through her black tank top.

Jeremy immediately jerked free from the wounded pair and stepped over her broken body, a wicked grin on his face.

“I’m sorry it came to this, Isabella” a husky voice drawled, and Isabella’s eyes narrowed dangerously as Cecile - fucking Cecile! - carefully took Jeremy’s hand and briefly kissed it, her own evil smile on her face.

Kate spat several profanities as she crawled closer to Isabella, trying desperately to reach the other woman.

“You fucking bitch!” Isabella replied. “Was this your plan Cecile? Some crazy elaborate trap? How fucking original of you! For what purpose?” She seethed. 

Musical laughter filled the room as Cecile’s eyes darkened as she whispered an incantation Isabella couldn’t make out the foreign words. But it sounded ancient and powerful. She swallowed uncomfortably, staring helplessly at Kate. Dark gold met emerald green and both women paled.

Isabella could only watch in muted horror as red blood crawled towards the traitor and swirled around her in a huge terrifying arch. Her eyes entirely blackened as she finished the spell.

They noticed too late that the blood Cecile conjured for her sinister spell was that of Jeremy’s younger brother, Micah, as he lay curled in a ball, lifeless and discarded on the ground. Dying slowly and painfully at the hands of his own kin and coven leaders daughter.

A fury so potent and deadly stole Isabella’s breath as she screamed bloody fucking murder. Her throat raw and painful as the new wounds on her body bled and throbbed.

She became vengeance incarnate.

She thought of yet another person who betrayed her, someone she’d trusted for so many weeks, who had ultimately lied to her. Lead her into false pretences and whispered half truths before she stabbed her literally in the back. Cecile was never a friend but she had now become an enemy. She didn’t have the wherewithal to apologise to Orion before she stood and she ignited.

“Run!” She heard Cecile shout in the chaos.

She saw the traitor and her - lover? - stumble away, dark tendrils of her power frantically slithering after them and Kate’s wide, terrified and awe filled expression as she caught Isabella and wrapped her in her strong arms.

“Mám ťa krásny anjel” [I got you beautiful angel] Kate whispered.

Isabella half smiled, half grimaced before the world faded to black…

Chapter Text

Chapter 12:
Witch business: Part 3

1 month after…

~ Isabella ~

“Three have gone missing from our Surrey Coven and two from Paris,” the softly spoken woman repeated, the edge of sadness and confusion that seemed to constantly linger in her eyes - eyes that matched her daughters - seemed to shimmer with the barely controlled emotions.

“What business does she have abducting witches from her own coven? And then a random coven in France?” Kate puzzled aloud.

“They are our cousins, don’t forget that the reach of this Coven is wide, we remain the oldest, largest and most powerful in Europe” the witch responded proudly, Kate merely nodded. Honestly, it was a wonder Isabella had managed to get the two supernatural species to be reasonably professional with one another.

“Cecile is targeting our own family first it would seem, and of them she is taking the most vulnerable to her prejudices and archaic ideologies. Not to mention they are young, untrained and powerful.” Isabella winced, and even felt Orion’s concern at the observation form the High Priestess “She always could be so convincing, but I never thought she’d be involved in” she waved uselessly “- let alone leading such a terrible attack on our family and our way of life” the woman’s soft voice broke and Isabella briefly felt her pain before it was skilfully shut down.

“I’m sorry High Priestess, we appreciate that this is a difficult situation for you” Isabella offered, her eyes softening as the woman - dressed in blue jeans and a nice white shirt, a clear attempt at masking her true activities from her coven - bobbed her head in acknowledgment.

“Cecile was always so opinionated but she kept her hatred and anger well hidden. Honestly, we had no idea she was so…”

“Lost?” Isabella added and The High Priestess nodded regretfully, her lips pressed together forming a thin line.

She looked like her daughter, Isabella noted, perhaps more regal in her posture and general presence, and her energy felt more open and friendly. Isabella should’ve known Cecile was not quite right, given her energy always contained a level of darkness that clung to the edges.

“Thankfully, she’s not been killing anyone since last month…as far as we can see. In fact, they seem to have hidden themselves away. To what end I don’t know, but it is curious” Isabella said her brows scrunched together in confusion.

“I think you scared the ever living shit out of them personally” Kate added unhelpfully and Isabella scoffed before shoving her slightly. Kate grinned and shrugged half heartedly.

“Doubtful. But she does have some sort of a long term plan, I just can’t figure out what it is”

“The vampire may have a point. But I do think that she’s recruiting to her cause, whatever her plans are I don’t don’t really know” the High Priestess interrupted.

“Mhm,” she grumbled, before steeling herself for her next statement “I don’t think you should keep this from your coven any longer. And I think you should extend the knowledge to any nearby kin. Prioritise those who she may think to target first” Isabella advised and waited for the fall out, even Kate stepped closer to her.

“I-I know. Cecile’s involvement and their nefarious actions cannot be covered any longer” she slumped down onto the wooden bench in the park they conversed in “I should warn you, this may have consequences, the council will likely call into question my suitability as High Priestess for one.“ a title Agatha had worked incredibly hard to achieve, and worked even harder to maintain favour amongst her people. This would surly crush the woman, life is full of cruelties , Isabella noted regretfully and Orion gently ‘hugged’ her.

“I’m sorry, Agatha. You have my support, however much good that will do.” Isabella said, as she placed a hand to the woman’s slumped shoulders and sat next to her. They sat there quietly for several long moments, watching the birds singing and soaring in the trees, and the golden sun sink lower in the blue sky.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess Isabella, this all goes far beyond what you initially agreed” the witch commented, without facing away from the untamed nature that was before her, “I suspect it might be a long fight, given we’ve not faced the likes of this situation for many centuries, unfortunately, I’d understand if you wish to step aside,” she sighed, “either of you really” she added quietly.

“I made a promise to stop Jeremy, and not only that, but we have a contract and that includes my aid should the lives of your coven or the surrounding humans and other supernaturals lives should they be in danger. I will help your coven resolve this Agatha, and I do not blame you for the actions of your daughter, I’m only sorry you are forced to experience this betrayal” Agatha met her kind eyes and she saw in them the gratitude she knew the proud woman would never voice.

“Okay. Let’s set up the meeting with the council, I’ll make some calls to our kin too. We can start putting in contingencies in case I am removed as High Priestess, they will not refuse my general help, I know Cecile better than anyone,” Agatha said, like a woman on a mission, “I do think this is going to take some time, we are battling both warped ideologies and powerful magic. Be prepared for a long fight.” Agatha finished making eye contact with both vampire and Isabella.

“Okay, I’ll need to update our King, make sure he’s happy for us to remain involved” Kate replied, before muttering “I doubt he’ll pull me now that this is turning interesting”

“Let’s do this” Isabella said with a small smile and the small group dispersed the little secluded park.

2 years later…

Isabella stirred from her slumber (and long talk and training session with Orion), slowly becoming reacquainted with her surroundings, she stretched her leg out and noted form the chill against her skin that the comforter must’ve slipped from her body at some point so her upper half was bare.

It was when she finally noticed long fingers softly stroked up and down Isabella’s bare back in slow languid motions that she remembered whose bed she’d fallen into. Again. She smiled inwardly as the featherlight caress brought goosebumps to the touched flesh.

“I know you’re awake, anjel [angel]” Isabella groaned into her pillow at the sweet sultry voice.

“Some of us need our beauty rest” she mumbled into her pillow.

“Then you must sleep far too much, anjel because you are príliš krásne [too beautiful]” Isabella rolled her eyes recognising the Slovakian words, and a reluctant smile spread on her lips. Her traitorous mouth only widened as she felt a lingering kiss press against her bare shoulder. She turned in the large bed and placed a chaste kiss to Kate’s lips.

“Good morning” she smiled warmly, and Kate grinned as she playfully flicked her lightly freckled nose “You’re a flatterer, Katrina Denali” she smiled seductively, “and you needn’t bother” with a breathy laugh, she kissed her surprised parted lips and Kate‘s eyes involuntarily fluttered closed as she whispered against them, “I’m already in your bed” she smirked.

“Not quite” Kate grumbled, a touch of sadness in her tone.

“Kate,” Isabella warned her smile swiftly wiped from her face, “please don’t. Can’t we enjoy our morning together without any…unpleasantness?” She asked as she pulled the sheet upward, effectively covering her chest. Kate pulled away and sighed miserably. Isabella inhaled deeply, preparing herself for the same argument and secretly, selfishly, hoping this would not be the final time she’d hear it. She was under no illusion that Katrina was growing wary of their arrangement and the thought of Kate leaving… it did unspeakable things to her chest. 

“I know, there’s no use anyway right?” Kate said bitterly, her gold eyes hard - trying desperately to cover the hurt she felt. “You’ll finish your meeting about Cecile and how we still can’t find her, and then make up some bullshit excuse to leave for several weeks?”

“That’s not fair and you know it, Kate” she defended.

“If you’re referring to the fact that on the one hand you allowed us to get close while we worked on this case yet on the other hand you insisted on keeping me at arms length, then yes Isabella, you’re quite right, it isn’t fair ” Kate folded her arms over her bare chest defensively and Isabella tried very hard not to channel the emotions Kate was unknowingly projecting.

Hurt. Regret. Longing. Self loathing. Frustration. And something else, something that tasted bitter sweet - Isabella wasn’t sure what it was exactly. But it made her feel slightly sick with dread for some strange reason.

She shoved it all down, down, down and locked it away. If she didn’t hate him for what he did to her - she’d pity Jasper Hale for his gift, she could at least dial it down to next to nonexistent. Though she couldn’t control it all that well yet if she were to be candid.

“We’ve talked about this, Kate” she said quietly, defeatedly, before adding “I can’t keep having this conversation with you.” She grumbled followed by a long sigh as her eyes searched the room for her discarded clothes, not being familiar with this particular ‘family cabin’ of Kate’s. It was not their usual place to meet after all, being just outside of Denali - something to do with a wayward cousin who was staying with the family and she was according to Kate, ‘a real grumpy Bitch’. Not that Isabella minded the privacy, in fact she insisted on it.

“We keep talking about it because you won’t tell me anything? Not really! Like why can’t we date, make a proper go of it?” she asked desperately, as she made to reach toward Isabella but stopped herself mid way “and don’t give me the same shit about someone who hurt you or you’re not emotionally stable enough to date me. Tell me who hurt you, what did they do? Who are you when you leave Denali and disappear for weeks? I don’t even know why I catch you mumbling weird things in your sleep, like you’re talking to someone. Or- or like, what kind of supernatural creature you are, cos’ you’re something right, you have to be?” She paused and her eyes softened briefly as she added “What happened to you?” Isabella shook her head sharply.

Kate stood suddenly, naked as the day she was born, fury and frustration blazed in her golden orbs. Isabella swallowed uncomfortably, “you won’t even meet my sisters” she added angrily.

“I’ve met Tanya” Isabella feebly countered, “and all those points remain valid. You don’t know me Kate, I cant-“. She stopped herself with a long exhale.

“You talked to her on a video feed a few times for fuck sake, and only ever about the case, I’d hardly count that as meeting her,” Kate tapped her foot uselessly on the wooden floor. “And I hate to contradict you Isabella, I might not know all the other crap but I do know you, ” she prodded her chest, “I know you like pepperoni on your pizza with peppers and the crust has to be very well done and crispy” Isabella held her breath, “you don’t sleep long but when you do, your nose twitches like a bunny and it’s adorable. You prefer walking to the car but not over using your bike, which you have a strange attachment to, not that I know why! I know you’re insanely curious, about everything, and you could talk for hours and hours about folklore and other stuff - stuff I find unbelievable and that you probably shouldn’t know, but you do somehow. I know how to make you laugh and when you get sad you avoid all eye contact and leave the room - except when you let me hold you. I’ve seen you at your angriest, and most uncontrolled and I’ve seen you laugh so hard water squirted from your nose” Kate was practically vibrating with her barely controlled emotions, “I- môj Bože [my god] I know how you make me feel Isabella, and I wish you could be a little brave and let me in, so that you could maybe one day love me too” she finished passionately and Isabella pointedly ignored the terrifying implications of that last statement. She exhaled a shaky breath.

“I- I’m sorry, but I can’t do this Kate,” Isabella’s eyelids closed given how close she was to tears, she felt the water welling in her eyes and yet she fortified herself as always. She would not break down now.

“Do what , Isabella? Meet me to discuss this shitty ridiculous case? Find excuses to spend time with me? Fuck me repeatedly, then run away? Which bit are you sorry for exactly?” A furious blush crept into her cheeks before she whirled on the vampire, her eyes flashing green. Kate stood taller, unfazed by Isabella’s brief loss of control, like the stubborn fool she was.

“I’m finishing my doctorate, and yes I’ve got Cecile and her merry band of crazies to find, because that is still my responsibility” and the rest , she thought bitterly as she furiously ran her fingers through her loose wavy locks “and like I said before …” she waved nonchalantly at the bed, and the crumpled sheets, “before we were intimate that I couldn’t give you anything more than this” she grit her teeth and held the vampires stubborn eyes, even as Kate’s orbs reflected her inner turmoil.

“That was months and months ago,” Kate rolled her eyes in frustration “I just, I guess I hoped you’d…” Kate quickly pulled on an oversized shirt and slumped against the bed, her head hung as she exhaled shakily. There was that word Isabella didn’t want Kate to feel regarding their situation. Hope. It may seem harsh or cruel, but if Kate had hope that Isabella could change her heart, it would only worsen the vampires heartache when she realised she would not - could not - do so. This, seemingly was written on Isabella’s face as Kate muttered, “Never mind.” As she loosed a breathy laugh, devoid of any true humour.

Isabella hated the sight, the vampire warrior  slumped on the edge of the bed, dejected and sad. This was a vulnerability Kate only allowed a select few to see, and Isabella was both awed and saddened she was considered part of that short list.

Isabella pulled Kate’s grey shirt over her body, knowing it was longer than her own, and came to her knees. Before she tentatively perched on the edge of the bed beside the vampire and bumped her shoulder against Kate’s own. She shifted the mussed long near-white blonde hair from Kate’s face and smiled softly at the beautiful woman.

“I wish I could give you more, truly, but I can’t Katrina, I’m so sorry,” she gently tickled along Kate’s shoulder back and forth in a comforting motion “and I can’t promise I will be able to anytime soon or at all really, to be honest.” Kate stiffened at her words and she suspended the habitual ministrations, “please believe me when I say I care about you so fucking much” she choked out a breathy laugh, “I care deeply about you, but if that’s not enough, and I understand if it’s not, then…” she trailed off, her tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of her dry mouth as she briefly looked at the door, she was so dreading this conversation. Kate’s sad golden eyes raised and met her own.

“You won’t ever let yourself love me, will you?” She concluded sadly, and the dejected tone alone cut Isabella’s heart up into tiny pieces.

“It’s, um complicated ” She shook her head, “I don’t want to get into it but, just know, this is for the best, it mightn’t feel like it now, but I hope in time you’ll understand” Isabella sighed quietly, “but I get that you want to find someone who can give you the thing that I cannot, the thing you so deserve, Kate.” Neither woman needed to say the word, they both knew how to read between the lines of what was said and not said:

Love .

Or more accurately, the ability to fall in love.

It was best to let Katrina Denali go, even if it hurt her heart to do so. She could give the vampire this gift of freedom, the freedom to find what she so craves. To love and be loved with the reckless abandonment they show in movies and books. Perhaps she’d even eventually find her true mate. Isabella hoped she would, even if that too stung her a bit.

A sad silence surrounded the scared lovers for a long minute. And Isabella let the emotions flow through her in crashing waves, as fat tears brimmed her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. Because somehow she knew this was the end of this repeated conversation, she felt it as it finally sank into Kate’s mind. Felt her emotions morph from hope and frustration to resigned grief.

The moment Katrina finally accepted that Isabella could not give her the love she wanted, she was going to leave her. It’s for the best , she tried telling herself, but it hurt the same. Isabella tried her hardest to brace herself for the inevitable, for the sad, awkward goodbye, and to shied her heart for the pain once Kate finished processing her feelings in the coming minutes.

Seconds.

“I think,” Kate swallowed her sorrow and she turned to face Isabella and Isabella held her breath, so painfully slowly, as she brushed a featherlight kiss to Isabella’s forehead, “I think I-I should go” Isabella’s heart lurched and she felt physically sick, but what she said next, certifiably broke her heart. “I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry” Isabella choked on a sob as Kate finally pulled away.

She hated herself for causing this pain and to someone she cared for. While she could hide in the knowledge that she warned Kate multiple times during her initial advances, not long after they returned to the States, that they could only ever be friends with benefits - it didn’t matter really because it still pained her to see the proud warrior reduced to this sad depressed shell, for Katrina Denali was usually filled with such life and laughter. And Isabella knew that vampires felt their emotions amplified ten fold - it was this knowledge that only increased the guilt she felt.

And yet, here she was, shoulders slumped and sad quivering smile on her face, tears streaming down her face, as she allowed herself to feel the vampires energy. While it radiated Kate’s pain and heartache, Isabella allowed herself to nearly drown in it. It’s what she felt she deserved after all.

“Tanya will fill in for me with the witch business, I’ll call her” Kate offered, and Isabella desperately gripped the hand that still rested on the beds surface beside her.

Her eyes pleaded to the warrior, portraying all the words she couldn’t say, words that Kate so deserved to hear. She opened her mouth, trying desperately to make a sound, to try, to do something, anything other  than sit there with tears falling uselessly from her eyes, her heart pounding, as she clung like a scared little girl to the vampires hand, the vampire who’d meant - means - so much to her.

Isabella’s cell of course took that particular moment to begin obnoxiously screeching with an incoming call. She pointedly ignored it. Kate however, nodded solemnly.

“Kate, I -“ The pathetic apology got stuck on her dry tongue as Kate simply shook her head, and gently squeezed her hand.

Once.

Twice.

“I know, anjel. Just, give me some time okay?” she whispered and she kissed the back of her hand before slowly letting it go.

And it all felt so god damn finite . This feeling was punctuated by the sad smile and single bloody tear that rolled freely down Kate’s gorgeous pale face, a face that belonged to someone who was usually so vibrant and fun and alive . Who’d made Isabella choke on her own laughter countless times, and honed her ability to fight with her daggers and begin to see the fun in the mundane things like showering, eating or taking a walk. Who’d unknowingly helped her begin to heal …

A long and tedious process Isabella had avoided for a long time, yet, Kate and her general openness and willingness to listen and compromise - sharing her own life stories and pain - had unknowingly to Isabella at the time, kick started her own long healing journey.

She’d likely be forever grateful to the brave woman beside her, in more ways she knew how to articulate given her present stunned and sad present state of being.

Isabella couldn’t bare to watch as Kate silently gathered her few personal items, nor as she slowly walked towards the door, and certainly not as the blonde left the cabin without ever looking back.

3 years later…

“For fuck sake, can’t I get any fucking peace?” She shouted as she slammed her book down and plucked her ringing cell from the charging port.

“Dr. Swan?” She greeted cordially despite her heightened irritability.

“I have news concerning the witches” a feminine authoritative voice said, “I sent you an email just now, did you get it?” Isabella grumbled as she clicked on the aforementioned email, “Follow the link and watch the video” the voice instructed and Isabella bristled at the order.

“Tanya is that you?” She asked dumbfounded, before finally clicking play on the video.

A news anchor appeared on the screen in the little blue box, a pretty plump woman in a light blue suit and white shirt with an oversized protruding and plunging neckline collar greeted her on the screen.

“Tanya, I am finalising my classes and I have to call the shifters after this - I don’t have ti-“

“Listen to the report Isabella, it’s important“ The Denali coven leader interrupted and Isabella grit her teeth and focused on the reporter. Tanya was always so formal and curt with her, not that she could blame the woman, given she’d broken her sisters heart. And Tatyana Denali was a sister before any of the other roles she performed.

“- Katrina , put that down this instant, that is a priceless item from my personal collection, as you well know!” Tanya hissed her tone deadly and pleasantly accented, “children, both of them” the vampire muttered, and Isabella ignored the painful throbbing in her chest at Kate’s responding giggles.

How had it been 3 years since there that incident in the cabin? She’d hardly seen Kate since…the vampire having given her sister and coven leader the responsibility of vampire liaison almost immediately after... Not that she blamed her, they met a couple times, though always with others present as buffers and they were cordial, even friendly, but their banter and comfortability was absent. Isabella missed it, and Orion was incredibly sad and disappointed at their friend, even after she agreed to complete another painful memory transfer not so long ago.

“…the man, said to be in his mid thirties and was found dead near his hometown in Surrey, police have not yet released a formal statement but sources confirm this is being treat as a murder investigation.

He is reported to have little to no blood in his body, and has sustained serious physical injuries to his person. Police are urging people to call the dedicated helpline below if they have any information concerning this ongoing investigation”

“Stars, what’s this now?” She whispered as dread filled her stomach. This case was getting more and more complicated as the months and years went on. With each lead and development, they got closer to capturing and stopping the blood witches - who only grew in their numbers - even but they’d slip away at the last minute. It was so irritating. Even those they stopped or captured, they made little to no difference to the overall goal - stopping Cecile, who was both brilliant and cunning.

“Jeremy yes, I’m afraid, a vampire coven we know in the area confirmed it for us” Tanya said gravely.

“What? She killed her lover? That doesn’t make sense?” She was flabbergasted at the unusual development. Tanya merely hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her blurted out thoughts. 

“…Police are particularly interested in a woman, fair skilled and said to be in her late twenties to early thirties, this woman was allegedly seen nearby…she is believed to be of a smaller build, with curly long red hair and very dark eyes” the news anchor went on.

And the noise of the rest of the report and Tanya’s worried questions were all but ignored as Isabella dropped her cell and crawled under her large oak desk.

“It can’t be. After so many years…” she whispered, trepidation punching her in her gut. But she could think of only one person who could even remotely be connected to this complex case and to the supernatural world. The same someone who could easily evade and manipulate the human authorities.

Someone who knew how to be seen just enough to recognise some of her key features. Because this person would want Isabella specifically, to hear the report, to hear the description. And to know that she is now well aware Isabella didn’t in fact, die in New York after she stabbed herself in the heart and her body mysteriously disappeared over a decade ago. 

Tanya’s muffled voice from the discarded and forgotten device that lay at her feet was ignored. Isabella sat under her desk for what felt like hours, days even as the same sentence was furiously running through her frozen mind:

Victoria was coming for her once more.

Victoria was coming for her once more.

Victoria was coming for her once more.

Victoria was coming for her once more.

Victoria was coming…

…And Isabella was not ready to face her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13:
I burn for You

~ Rosalie ~

Present day, Rosalie’s Cabin, Remote Alaska

Rosalie Hale’s body burned like she’d been dropped into a volcano head first without a safety line. It swept through her skin and surrounded her non-beating heart like an electrical current prepared to charge the dead organ back to life. The only reference she had to such a burning sensation, she frantically thought, was her turning. The burning pain caused by the vampire venom Carlisle injected into her body like a parasite to wipe away her very being.

The vampire venom in contrast to the almost pleasant heat under her skin at present, had instead been an unrelenting scorching sensation, painful beyond measure, to the point where all Rosalie could do - the only sentient thought she had in the hours and days it took for the venom to stop her heart - was to cling hopelessly to what remained of her human soul.

It was not difficult at the time for her to locate the bright thing, during her moments of lucidity, the white essence - if that’s what you might call it - had been the only modicum of light fighting courageously against the overwhelming shadows of darkness, of the pain, misery, trauma and endless burning she was forced to experience.

She recalled it all rather vividly, the sensation of being burnt alive from within l and the repeated begging to God for Him to take her into His arms, to end the pain at last. It had been the last time she ever prayed to any god, despite (or perhaps in spite of) her very religious upbringing. But the light, it provided some small comfort to her instead and she clung to it like it was her last lifeline - perhaps it was, she wouldn’t ever know.

Indeed, the burning sensation she felt in the present moment, was vastly different to that time.

It started as a small ember when she first kissed the gorgeous brunette who was presently and recklessly tugging her up the ladder to her bedroom, it was taking them longer because the woman was reluctant to release her lips from Rosalie’s.

Rosalie didn’t care to argue with her, for she wouldn’t admit this aloud (she certainly didn’t wish to do so even to herself) - but she would miss those luscious bruised lips if they were removed from her own for longer than a few seconds.

The embers that Isabella initially ignited with her relentless kissing silently burned brighter as they staggered up the sturdy stairs with breathy laughs when clumsy limbs tangled together leading to missteps and hands steadying bodies. The only sounds in the large house were their small moans and the desperate moist lips exploring, of their tongues dancing expertly together.

A dance she believed she knew very well, she’d kissed lots of people after all, but this dance, this kissing, it heated her very soul. And it reminded her of holding onto that light amidst the darkness.

Of course, this knowledge terrified her beyond all reason, but she was too caught up, too distracted by the tantalising skilled lips and tongue attached to her own as they plundered her mouth, diligently fought with her own tongue for dominance, and finally, licked up her neck.

Rosalie’s eyes practically bugged as Isabella suckled at her neck, her teeth playfully grazing the sensitive flesh above her scent gland, Rosalie loosed her hold on an animalistic growl, the noise vibrated harshly in the back of her throat. Her breath hitched at the sudden and sharp arousal that pooled in her core, making her throb with a need that was almost painful.

The burning embers inside her suddenly intensified, encouraging her heightened emotions to near unbearable levels as they continued to heat her within at a rapid pace. Isabella smirked wolfishly right against her throat and Rosalie Hale couldn’t stop the low throaty, shameless moan if she tried.

She should feel concerned at her ever loosening grip on her control, along with her intense emotions and burning need building inside of her like a volcano about to erupt.

But surprisingly, Rosalie was past the point of giving a fuck about her uncharacteristic behaviour, her lust was wholly in control of her body, and the icy acknowledgment of this fact damn near killed her all over again.

Rosalie would not - could not - be a slave to her baser instincts, she never had been, (she’d never even tasted human blood for heavens sake) and so she would never allow herself to be. But by the gods she wanted nothing more than to allow Isabella to take her as she stood and ravage her until she was a messy puddle of contentment.

It was this feeling that scared her most of all - the desire to finally give up her control - enough to extinguish some of the rising fires within her.

But not all of them. Not enough of them. Not when Isabella gripped her face and tugged her into another sloppy kiss.

“Stars, you’re fucking radiant, Rose” Isabella whispered into her ear, her voice filled with awe and red hot desire . Rosalie shivered in delight, her gums ached with the need to sink her teeth into the woman’s warm flesh. Isabella kissed her neck, her tongue jutting out and licking soft circles into her cold flesh.

She ignored the burning feeling in her chest, in her veins, as she grit her teeth to stop her fangs from dropping and roughly, swiftly, slammed Isabella against her wooden bedpost. Not hard enough to truly hurt the woman, but enough to garner a surprised grunt and mischievous glint in her eyes.

She was momentarily mildly pissed that Isabella continued her defiant actions to vie for control over the situation. She’d shoved her against a bedpost for crying out loud! But at the same time, she relished the challenge.

Rosalie Hale did not relinquish her control. Not over to someone else, and especially not over to her primitive vampire nature. She was not going to start doing so now, no matter how much the burning embers in her chest simmered to rage at her defiance to just let go .

No. She thought defiantly.

Isabella’s eyes seemed to morph into a smouldering dark green, an intense colour that highlighted her lighter skin tone, her black pupils were blown wide as she licked her swollen lips and leaned nonchalantly against the bedpost.

Isabella seemed entranced as Rosalie stalked toward her with a predatory smirk on her face, and Rosalie delighted in Isabella’s soft exhalation of “shit”.

“There’s something you should know about me, Isabella ” she purred the woman’s name exaggerated around her lips and Isabella visibly swallowed.

Rosalie’s inner vampire squirmed with the sudden need to just take her already, to rip off her remaining tattered clothing, to feed from her, mark her body with her fangs and her scent - and to fuck her senseless until Isabella couldn’t walk and lost consciousness from the intensity of her own releases.

Rosalie briefly halted as she lost her focus from the unwanted interruption due to in to her suppressed vampire nature lurking within her. Deciding to ignore the primitive desires as she usually did, she resumed her slow steps until she reached the brunette.

The burning in her chest seemed to stutter as Isabella suddenly pulled her softly against her taut front, trapping herself between the wooden bedpost and Rosalie’s body. An act of submission perhaps, but Rosalie suspected it had more to do with the woman’s desperate need . Rosalie’s answering smile was near feral.

“I’m dying to know what more you’ll share about yourself, princess…” Isabella muttered and grinned as Rosalie’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Isabella stared intently at Rosalie’s mouth, daring her to react to her goading, the picture of someone who’d done wrong and was waiting to be reprimanded. She was teasing, goading Rosalie into reacting - into grabbing her and throwing her down to do all she wanted and more.

Rosalie stubbornly - predictably - refused the temptation.

Instead, with her trademark smile, that balanced precariously on the line between condescending and sexy, Rosalie moved her head down towards Isabella’s eager lips, only to top an inch away. The brunettes quick exhales were warm against her face. Isabella unconsciously bit her bottom lip, looking, for the first time, unsure of herself. Rosalie’s smile morphed into a smug, knowing smirk.

“It’s simple really,” she tugged at Isabella’s lip with her teeth gently, Isabella leaned into Rosalie’s body impatiently, her eyes fluttered closed.

“Hm?” She murmured, licking her lips. 

“I lead and you follow. Can you do that?” She whispered sensually. Isabella’s eyes quickly opened and the green colour seemed more pronounced, how curious , Rose thought.

“Do your worst, princess” Isabella grinned like a cat that got the cream. Silly, reckless creature. She thought. 

Rosalie laughed softly before she tilted the beautiful woman’s head up using her chin, forcing green orbs to meet amber. She searched for regret or concern and she saw none reflected in the eyes that stared openly back at her. Isabella was an enigma that was for certain and either ridiculously stupid or far too cocky for her own good.

“Be careful what you ask for, Isabella,” she warned, her tone serious. Isabella’s face softened and she pecked her lips gently, as though Rosalie Hale was made of delicate glass that could shatter at any given moment. The gentle act was a stark difference to the woman’s prior bravado and flirtatious behaviour. It was jarring.

It’s like she knows I need her explicit consent, like she knows me . Rosalie thought, with both awe and fear. She swore the dead organ in her chest beat a couple of times as the hot fire that blazed within her near indestructible body rose to an unbelievable level. She looked away from the brunettes kind gaze, feeling uncomfortable with the unexpected softness.

Rosalie was accustomed to people wanting her, of course she was, conceited as it may be, she was beautiful. Unbelievably so. The lustful aroma of arousal that followed her around had become almost as common as the smell of grass to her. Isabella wanted her, that had always been clear, and she wanted her right back. So, what was her problem? She was no virgin after all, sure she could count on her two hands  how many times she’d slept with someone - and only ever once - so this was nothing. Isabella was nothing to her. A beautiful stranger she was attracted to, who she wanted to fuck. That was all. Right? Of course, she told her self. I’m overthinking as per usual. 

Still, there was something jarring about the softness the brunette randomly displayed, at the genuine concern and kindness in her eyes. That , was rare. Especially after they’d been making out for so long, and were presently stood at the foot of her bed, pressed against the luxurious bedpost. It couldn’t be more erotic, Isabella should be desperate for her, dripping with need. And she was - but she was also, sweet. It unnerved her. Rosalie felt her equilibrium shift at the look of genuine affection and concern staring back at her, written on Isabella’s face. She felt off, and she couldn’t place why. 

“Look at me,” her chin was raised by Isabella’s deft fingers, “you won’t hurt me, Rose” Isabella said sincerely, she stroked a thumb along Rosalie’s pale cheek, her hand warm and steady, “we’ll go at your pace, and as far as you wish, I’m content to kiss you all night long if that’s what you want, I promise” Isabella rested her free hand to over chest, right over her heart as she nodded once. Her eyes were so sincere, so warm and open. “Breathe, there’s no pressure, princess” Rosalie felt the sudden urge to cry at the words.

Moments earlier she was her usual in control self, sure the vampire in her was screaming at her to take, mark, fuck for some reason, but it’s not the first time she ignored the deadly creature that existed within her, it certainly won’t be the last. She was in charge of herself and of this situation. So she told herself. 

I’m Rosalie fucking Hale and I’m not scared of a little human for Pete’s sake! She thought proudly, defiantly. 

Isabella shifted in her arms, and chastely pecked her cheek. She blinked slowly, and breathed in. The scent of their mixed arousal and desire immediately gripped her and ignited the embers until all that remained was a burning inferno.

“As you wish, but I plan to do more than just kiss you Isabella” she didn’t wait for a response. She pulled their bodies together so tightly there was no part of her that existed where Isabella did not. Her heart fluttered at the sharp intake of breath as Isabella gladly allowed herself to be tugged impossibly close. Their breasts touching through thin layers of clothing and Rosalie moaned shamelessly at the feeling.

Rosalie then kissed her with reckless abandonment. Isabella could only grip onto her curvaceous hips for dear life as Rosalie’s hands wandered to Isabella’s face and held her in place.

“Oh,” Isabella groaned as Rosalie slotted her knee between the brunettes legs, offering a little friction to the desperate woman. “F—fuck, yes, just like that baby”

Rosalie closed her eyes tightly at the utterance of that last breathy word and gladly lost herself in the passionate kissing of the beautiful, warm, sweet, sexy stranger. Lost and stumbling in the burning pleasure that crashed through her with a force that did not scare her at all. 

Perhaps, she thought absently as their lips and hands desperately teased and explored one another’s bodies, expertly slipping under shirts, dexterous fingers lightly grazing over bra covered breasts.

Perhaps I’m not lost at all, perhaps I was simply waiting? She questioned unhelpfully and with a terrified, excited grin, she lead Isabella backwards towards her soft bed. Their lips never once detaching. 

Rosalie Hale recklessly burned and burned and fucking burned as though she’d never kissed a single soul before this moment.

Before this girl.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14
Return me from whence I came

‘Heartbeat racin'

I'ma put you through these paces

Be the best you ever tasted

Gon' stay on your mind

Come back every time

Baby I'ma keep you cravin’ ~ Stileto

~ Isabella ~

“Do your worst, Princess” Isabella said with a suggestive grin. Rosalie’s answering breathy laugh contained incredulity and… concern?

Isabella noted that the blondes previously rigorously managed emotions were currently pouring out of her in waves. Each emotion was a string that tied and knotted into another string more intense than the last, creating a knotted tapestry of complex feelings that Isabella struggled to accurately identify.

Isabella tried to shut the channel down, but Rosalie was so loud with her inner turmoil. Strong emotions felt a lot like a storm, but a vampires strong emotions? They were a fucking hurricane. Rosalie’s in particular reminded her of a storm she’d experienced once at La Push. The huge, powerful waves had crashed violently against the cliff side, and the black sky blotted out the sun creating a dramatic landscape. It was beautiful in a way, Isabella thought, if a little disarming.

Isabella thought Rosalie’s emotions were beautiful too, if also a little (a lot) disarming, and not because they were strong or unexpected. But because Isabella felt a certain unease about them - about the urge to to make her feel better, which was…uncharacteristic.

Rosalie nibbled at her lip briefly before she said in a stern, but husky tone “be careful what you wish for, Isabella”. Arousal shot through her like water at the subtle provocation.

She was momentarily regretting omitting her knowledge of her vampirism - because she’d have been able to experience the blonde unleash unto her body with her full strength. The devilish thought had her blinking several times before she tilted her head to face her.

Isabella’s heart thrummed violently in her chest as she was assaulted once more with the woman’s sudden onslaught of emotions. She grit her teeth and steadied herself as curiosity, anticipation, fear, desire, anxiety, hope - and a dozen other emotions spilled out unbeknownst to the vampire. Isabella tried desperately to control her ability as she rubbed at her cheek comfortingly.

“You won’t hurt me, Rose” She said with conviction and immediately she noted Rosalie’s concerned and shocked gaze.

This vampire was stunning, stupidly, inhumanly gorgeous. Even for a vampire. She was presumably well acquainted to people - human or otherwise - throwing themselves at her feet, vying for her attention. Wanting her desperately. Wanting her body before they even cared to get to know the layers beneath.

Perhaps Isabella was little better than those people, but she’d enjoyed their night together, and she’d learned some about the woman - the woman beneath her staggering beauty. People would be very lucky to know the vampire deeper - provided she let them of course. This notion made Isabella uncomfortable and it stirred a slight irritation in her. She rolled her eyes internally at her idiocy.

She lightly stroked over Rosalie’s cheek and the blonde unconsciously leaned into her touch. Isabella stared deeply into her molten gold eyes - recognising her own trepidation and uncertainty. Still, the blondes evident concern for her - for Isabella’s safety - warmed her heart.

“We’ll go at your pace, and as far as you wish, I’m content to kiss you all night long if that’s what you want, I promise” Isabella rested her free hand over chest, over her heart and nodded once, sealing this promise with a certain smile. “Breathe, there’s no pressure, princess” she felt Rosalie’s overwhelming relief almost immediately.

A pleasant excited wave washed over her as Rosalie stepped forward…

Rosalie promised she wanted to do more than kissing, and demanded to let her have charge of their night, frankly, Isabella was so aroused by her that she felt high on it.

The blonde slotted her leg between her thighs and her knee rubbed against her warm and throbbing centre. She released a shaky breath and muttered nonsense. It was primal and terrifying and erotic and she wanted Rosalie so badly it hurt . In the most sinfully glorious way.

It hurt when Rosalie continued kissing her with vigour, it hurt when she was led towards the soft mattress, and when she was gently pushed down so her body sank into the soft material that was saturated in Rosalie’s intoxicating scent.

Rosalie hovered above her, blonde hair fanned around her pretty face. She looked like some sort of otherworldly goddess and Isabella swore her heart damn near beat its way right out of her chest as they lay there silently staring at one another. Wholly absorbed in their own thoughts and feelings.

Rosalie gently traced a finger down Isabella’s cheek, her golden gaze locked on Isabella’s rapidly moving chest. The whole experience created a throbbing ache deep inside of Isabella which only intensified with the blondes seductively slow touch.

Isabella clenched her thighs together in a desperate attempt at creating some kind of friction to relieve some of the mounting tension. Rosalie amusedly parted her legs swiftly and wagged her finger left and right with a playfully smirk on her face.

“Patience, beautiful” She husked, and Isabella squirmed as Rosalie bent down and nipped at her earlobe.

“Stars, above…“ and then Rosalie was suddenly kissing her, “ngnm” she moaned as Rosalie’s upper thigh shifted to her throbbing centre.

She gripped the sheets, her knuckles white, her eyes wide as she moved against the bare limb. To her surprise and delight, Rosalie moved right along with her. Setting a languid pace with just enough pressure to make Isabella pant but not enough to truly reach her much desired release.

Rosalie breathed heavily against her ear, the exhales coming out in quick little bursts as she kissed and licked up and down Isabella’s throat before attacking her lips as she ferociously rubbed her thigh against Isabella’s centre.

Isabella tore her lips away from her gorgeous mouth, their rhythm turned borderline frantic.

“Princess, if you don’t take off this off” she recklessly tugged at her tattered clothing, “and touch me right now, I swear I’m gonna combust” she panted, her eyes searching the blonde’s side profile.

Rosalie abruptly stopped her movements and Isabella whined pathetically as a wide spread grin slipped onto Rosalie’s sinfully beautiful face. Her eyes burned with an intensity that had Isabella’s toes curling in anticipation and Rosalie cocked her head slightly in that inquisitive and primal way she’d done at the bar when she was curious about something, and yet, her face suddenly softened.

“Tell me what you want, and if you need me to stop, just say so, okay?” Rosalie said sincerely, her intense gaze locked onto Isabella’s eyes, consent was clearly very important to the vampire. She nodded dumbly at the request and her fingers twitched to grab the blonde, and throw herself at the mercy of her skilled fingers and mouth. Rosalie laughed breathily as she reached down to cup Isabella’s hot cheek. “I need you to use your words, beautiful” she said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Oh! Um, yes, of- of course ” Isabella’s voice contained a smidgen of the desperation she was trying desperately to hold onto, merely arched a dark blonde brow before she lowered her lips and kissed her. This kiss was soft and almost tentative, tender even, before it morphed into something deeper.

Something sensual and intoxicating.

A promise of sorts, the intensity of which made Isabella gasp for air, she sucked it in greedy gulps as Rosalie smiled at her and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Rosalie’s fingers curled around the hem of her shirt and Isabella sighed into Rosalie’s open mouth as the other slipped beneath the thin fabric to rest against her taut stomach.

“Yes, take it off,” she hissed breathily, Rosalie immediately yanked at the clothing, ripping it in half before dropping the torn garments to the floor with a thud. Rosalie grinned at her remaining item of clothings, a black sports bra and her fingers slowly tickled upward towards her prize.

Isabella sat up slightly to help the blonde pull the tight clothing up and over her head, before the blonde threw it to the heap on the floor. Rosalie glared at Isabella’s bear front, staring longingly at the curve of her breasts and her perk, pebbled nipples, licking her plump lips in anticipation.

Isabella felt lust pool in her lower stomach as Rosalie leaned down and made her way down her neck, kissing, nipping, sucking and licking until she reached the sensitive nipple of her right breast.

The vampire paused and Isabella was so overcome with want that she hadn’t the wherewithal to speak, instead she gripped the blondes head by her blonde locks and lead her eagerly to her breast.

Rosalie’s heated gaze was an inferno before she lowered her head and slowly licked over the sensitive nipple, Isabella gasped at the sensation her back arching off the bed, angling closer towards the teasing mouth.

“Oh, fuck” she groaned as Rosalie began to lick and suck at the sensitive flesh. The vampire utilised her hand to palm at the breast as she toyed with the pebbled nipple with her mouth and tongue, her free hand snaked over and palmed the other breast, creating an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. The noises that Rosalie produced from Isabella as she licked, sucked, flicked and squeezed her breasts, was pure, euphoric sin .

Her vagina throbbed with an unbearable need, an ache to be touched, to be filled and fucked by this incomprehensibly beautiful woman. She already knew she was absolutely soaked, ready for the blondes attention.

“Rosalie,” she whispered as Rosalie released her nipple with a tiny pop, before moving her mouth to the other, “stars, please baby, touch me ” Isabella Swan hadn’t begged for anything in her life, not since she’d begged, pleaded and gave her heart away to a boy with copper hair, to a boy who’d left anyway. Nor did she beg for her life, she didn’t beg for the merge to work, and she sure as shit didn’t beg for forgiveness.

But the string of pleading and demanding words that fell from Isabella’s traitorous mouth as Rosalie licked a wet line from her nipple to her neck was downright disturbing, and Rosalie’s candied grin was wicked against her burning skin.

Rosalie’s hand moved lower, her fingers spread out and determined. Isabella held her breath as the woman paused at her jeans, before she frantically shoved off and was left in her tight matching boxers. The blonde’s long finger dipped just below the surface, tantalising and playing with some of the short black curls.

“Mmmmm” she moaned to the ceiling.

“May I?” Rosalie husked, her voice a much lower timbre.

“Yes” she breathed, her voice barely recognisable.

Rosalie’s eyes turned midnight black at the utterance of the word, and she watched with burning interest as Isabella’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her breasts shifted with the movements, and her nipples glistening wet from Rosalie’s mouth.

It was no doubt an erotic sight for the vampire to behold; Isabella flat on her back, legs spread wide with the only piece of clothing separating the blonde from her prize mere moments from being torn away.

Rosalie continued to play with the short hairs, giving Isabella more than enough time to object. Isabella adored the attentiveness of the blonde, and her heart beat faster than a hummingbirds wings as she smiled up at her and guided the uncertain hand below the surface to her aching sex.

Rosalie growled quietly and painstakingly slowly, moved her hand to her slick folds, before she slid a finger between them and languidly slid it up and down, Isabella practically exploded with tiny jolts of pleasure. Rosalie finally, blissfully, located her clit with ease and began to stroke the enlarged, and sensitive bud.

The blonde crashed her lips against hers in a demanding kiss, their tongues tangled together once more as Rosalie rubbed her  in slow deliberate circles. Isabella moved desperately against her, her breath coming out in quick desperate moans and curses.

Rosalie increased her speed, her fingers rubbed harder against her throbbing clit and Isabella’s pelvis thrusted against her fingers with fever, the building pressure was so strong she dropped her head violently against the pillows. Her hands griped at Rosalie’s shoulders, her arms, and blunt nails raked down the blondes still clothed back.

It wasn’t enough; she needed more . She needed more of the blonde. She whimpered against Rosalie’s sexy mouth as desire flooded her very soul. Rosalie moaned into their kiss before she moved away and began to kiss and suck along her neck and protruding collarbone.

“Oh my god,” Rosalie cursed breathily against her throat as her sharp teeth barely scraped across her sensitive neck. Her fingers wandered from her pulsing clit, down the slit of her pussy toward her entrance.

The blonde moaned as she carefully gathered the damp moisture on her fingers, pulling it upward to thoroughly soak her clit before she resumed her rubbing and pinching and increasing Isabella’s pleasure tenfold.

“I- oh my st- Rose, yes” Isabella panted, eyes tightly shut. Rosalie increased her tempo, expertly using her dexterous fingers to pull Isabella’s approaching orgasm from her aching centre.

“So fucking sexy” Rosalie whisper-growled into her ear. Isabella shivered.

“Ohhhh fuck, Rose, inside, I need you, now …”

Rosalie’s primal growl seeped into her body, igniting her very blood and bones, and making tiny hairs on her neck, arms and legs stand to attention. Tiny goosebumps formed down her neck and a flush deep and red settled on her chest and cheeks.

She angled her head sideways on instinct, offering her throat to the vibrating blonde in a show of absolute submission - an out of character move she’d ruminate and pointedly ignore later - as those wondrous fingers dipped lower and circled her entrance.

Isabella tensed for a split second, before Rosalie - finally - dipped inside of her with one finger. Isabella groaned so loudly she was thankful Rosalie didn’t have any neighbours.

Rosalie dipped her head to Isabella’s throat, her breath hot and quick as she began to thrust in and out of Isabella’s tight entrance. She built momentum, the thrusts becoming deeper, until she added another finger and curled them inside of her. Isabella howled in delight.

She watched in wonder at the vampires impressive muscles contracting with each powerful thrust, “that’s it, beautiful” Rosalie murmured against her throat, before she bent to take an erect nipple into her mouth. As Rosalie sucked deeply, timing it perfectly with her deep, curling thrusts, Isabella felt closer to understanding what religion must feel like.

Isabella gripped Rosalie’s shoulders, losing all sense of self as she arched her back of the bed and screamed . The intense orgasm made her toes curl, her fingernails digging into the uncovered flesh of the blondes upper arms.

“Fuuuuuck” she cried, as Rosalie frantically pumped in and out of her soaked pussy, helping her ride the intense waves of her release.

The vampire sucked and bit down hard on her breast, right above her nipple, it wasn’t enough to draw blood, but the sudden painful sensation melded with her red hot pleasure and Isabella felt another orgasm move through her with vigour  “Rosalie!” She screamed.

It took her several minutes to open her eyes as she lay in a heap. Rosalie rested beside her, lightly drawing swirls and stars on her sweaty hot skin, a self-satisfied smile and wonderstruck gleam in her resplendent dark obsidian eyes, as she watched in fascination as Isabella attempted to control her breathing and return herself to the land of the living.

Because Isabella swore she must’ve been momentarily returned to the galaxies far away as she came harder than she’d ever done before until all she could see, all that was left w as the swirling stars and planets and moons…

Chapter Text

Chapter 15
You put a spell on me

You know I can't help myself when you ask tenderly, If I'd dim the lights as your hand brushes me, And the floor swallows your clothes, And your silhouette puts on a show, You put a spell on me, I'm losing my mind… ~ Austin Giorgio

~ Isabella ~

“Are you okay? Was it, was it good?” Isabella turned to face the blonde, her dark gold eyes the colour of shiny brass, her blonde hair slightly mussed reflected the moonlight from the uncovered large window to their right.

But it was the uncertain, almost timid smile etched on her angelic face, the slight nibble on her lower lip, that had Isabella’s breath hitching in her throat like a silly fool. She looks beautiful like this , she thought wistfully.

“Good?” Isabella laughed humourlessly and leaned further into the hard body beside her, “it was fucking transcendent ” she pecked a chaste kiss to the woman’s parted mouth. A small smile slipped onto Rosalie’s face and Isabella lightly kissed the corner of her mouth for good measure, feeling utterly unable to resist the urge to do so.

“Oh, that’s - that’s, good, I didn’t hurt you did I?” Isabella shook her head and absently drew a little heart on Rosalie’s arm as she tried to collect herself.

The sudden change from Rosalie’s thus far prickly and distanced attitude to an almost bashful and uncertain demeanour was a pleasant surprise to Isabella. It was surprisingly cute, she wanted to know more of what lay beneath her icy exterior, and this thought unnerved her immeasurably.

She caught herself smiling at the woman before she quickly wiped the foolish thing from her face at Rosalie’s puzzled expression. Which rested somewhere between ‘what’s wrong with her?’ to ‘has she been fucked so throughly that she’s lost her damn marbles?’. Which, fair enough.

Feeling like a teenager with a crush instead of the twenty-four year old (technically the forty four year old - discounting Orion’s extensive existence of course) woman she actually was, Isabella used her free hand to run through her tangled hair and winced at several intervals as she did so. She decided to put her strange emotions down to the amazing sex and its afterglow.

“There’s that word again…” Isabella teased with a lingering kiss to Rosalie’s exposed collarbone, “good” Isabella whispered against the cool flesh and she physically felt Rosalie’s low chuckle against her lips.

“Rose…” she kissed her again, her hand hand a mind of its own as it glided around Rosalie’s body and began stroking her lower back. 

“Hmm?” Rosalie rested her head back against the headboard as her fingers resumed the featherlight tickles along Isabella’s bear arms and shoulder-blades.

“I’d really love to return the favour, if you’re in to it?” Isabella said with a wink. Rosalie stiffened slightly, her ministrations pausing as she did so - it was all so slight and quick that a human would’ve missed it.

Luckily, Isabella was not human, merely playing the part of one, and so her heightened senses caught the sudden stiffness of Rosalie’s body. Isabella pulled away slightly and Rosalie averted her gaze, she absently curled a strand of blonde hair between her fingers and smiled warmly at the vampire. “It’s okay, princess, again, there’s no pressure” her smile was genuine.

“I want to, but-” Rosalie all but whispered and Isabella tasted the briefest hint of shame emanating from her beautiful companion.

It was not something she expected to sense, however brief and it made her… uncomfortable . There was a wrongness to it that unsettled her.

Why would she feel such a terrible emotion in her presence? Had she done something to upset the vampire? She frantically attempted to think on her actions, her mind playing over what she’d said and done on a reparative loop.

Her anxiety was skyrocketing before she swallowed the lump in her throat, recognising that this was perhaps not about her - which upset her differently, for reasons she hadn’t the time to comprehend. She decided the best course of action was to be as supportive as possible. To simply listen if that’s what Rosalie needed.

“Care to elaborate?” She asked evenly, her tone open and her eyes kind. Rosalie faced her, but she didn’t move the hand that’d been twirling the blonde locks, instead she looped said strand of silky blonde hair behind Rosalie’s delicate pierced ear and stroked along her defined cheekbone before resting it gently in Rosalie’s lap. The blonde for her part had remained entirely, eerily still, as only vampires could be.

Rosalie sighed deeply and she leaned her side more comfortably against Isabella’s warmth. Isabella pointedly ignored the butterflies that fluttered happily in her stomach at the movement.

“Well, I don’t really do this often…”

“- invite strangers to your bed?” Isabella interrupted with amusement in her eyes, Rosalie merely rolled her dark gold orbs and nodded with a slight grimace on her face. Isabella laughed breathily and quickly kissed the tip of her nose.

“Well, me either,” Rosalie levelled a disbelieving look at the her, her perfect plump lips pursed, yet they quirked at the corners as the blonde fought the urge to smile. Isabella swatted her forearm playfully “rude!” She shook her head as Rosalie shrugged before the blonde kissed her cheek and all was forgiven.

“I don’t like… this is silly, you’re basically a stranger!” Rosalie muttered, frustration in her gold eyes. Isabella gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay how about this, I’ll suggest things and you can nod when you might like to try it with me?” Rosalie closed her eyes and nodded slowly. Isabella slid her hand over the blondes own and laced their fingers together. She squeezed once. ‘I’m here’ the action said. Or she hoped so anyway.

“Do you enjoy oral?” Rosalie took a few seconds before she finally nodded, and she swore the vampire would be ten shades to sunset if she were human.

She briefly imagined Rosalie as a human. What did she look like? - sun kissed skin all flushed with pink cheeks, freckles dusted alone her nose, a sweet vulnerable smile etched on her pretty tan face. The image warmed Isabella’s heart and she squeezed her hand again. ‘You are safe’, the second squeeze said.

“Touching your clit?” Rosalie nodded slightly, “penetration?” Rosalie stiffened. “Okay, good. Um, oh yeah, what about butt stuff?”

Rosalie suddenly guffawed, the unexpected sound had Isabella pausing, the smile on her face morphed into one of wonder as she watched the woman laughing with her head thrown back. The full bodied laugh vibrated from deep within the blondes throat and Isabella was momentarily swept away with the joyous sound, like how the birds’ songs are swallowed by the sea on a windy day.

The sound left her in a sort of stupor, there she was half-laid naked on Rosalie’s bed, clinging to the white sheet haphazardly  pulled around her with her mouth hanging slightly open in wonder. The almost lyrical sound rang pleasantly in her ears, until a gentle nudge against her arm broke her from the spell that Rosalie’s unexpected joy had trapped her in.

“Be serious!” Rosalie said through bursts of giggles. Isabella blinked several times, as though she’d just awoken from one of the long stasis events that occurred during a memory transfer with Orion. Her friend had long since retreated in her mind, leaving her to her activities in peace, or she’d have asked them their thoughts on her odd behaviour.

“As a heart attack, princess” she half heartedly commented, as she playfully made a cross over her heart with her free hand. She greatly enjoyed the wry smile that soon slipped onto Rosalie’s face as they both absorbed and enjoyed the easy banter between the pair.

In fairness, it was not easy to be open to a stranger - especially about sex to a stranger. But Isabella was a grown ass adult, and she recognised the importance of consent and communication in 2026. She long ago acknowledged that it might feel strange for the blonde, who’d confessed she was not accustomed to sleeping around, to openly talk about such private things.

Besides, she could only assume that Rosalie may be older than her appearance of about twenty-two-ish. She probably came from a time in which sex was more of a chore, a necessity to procreate and so women would not typically openly talk about what they wanted or liked with their partner.

Isabella was once again glad she was not from such a boring and backwards time. She enjoyed sex when she had the time for it, and because it was not a weekly or evenly monthly (or even annual) occurrence, she knew what she liked and she asked for it with a staggering ‘no nonsense’ attitude that startled some partners. Except for Kate, who’d been the vampire and friend she’d absorbed a lot of her own behaviour .

She wondered if Rosalie had suffered such an existence before her turning? Or even afterwards? Did she enjoy sex, who did she sleep with and what was up with her fluctuating displays in confidence during the act? For some reason, she wanted to know. She wanted to know when she was turned, under what circumstances, did she have a coven? What of her partners? Why did she live so far removed? Did something happen to her? Isabella sighed inwardly at her ridiculous spiralling. Why should I care about any of this! Rosalie is an adult and can do as she pleases and none of her life or afterlife is of any concern to me!

Rosalie’s shy smile was closed mouthed as the blonde shamelessly stared openly at Isabella’s breast that’d slipped from her loose grip on the silk sheet, as she was distracted by her rumination’s. The vampire gently bit her bottom lip and Isabella’s centre throbbed. Get it together, Isabella! You are not an amateur or an animal for stars sake! She chastised herself.

“Are you always this forward?” Rosalie asked, her smile was radiant and distracting.

“I am a woman who knows what she wants and likes, and I think it’s important to know what my partner likes and what their boundaries are, to let them choose what parts of themselves they share with me - however brief” Isabella said gently. Rosalie’s mouth dropped open before she nodded, a tender look crossed her face, and something else, something that felt like… gratitude.

“Thank you” Rosalie breathed, “not all share your approach, many see a pretty blonde girl that they want to sleep with and assume I’d be willing to add to their notches on their bedpost but I-,” the woman cleared her throat “well, anyway ” Isabella wanted to probe the blonde and she caught the frustrated growl in her throat. Instead, she opened her mouth and exhaled the long breath from her nose.

She slowly squeezed Rosalie’s hand twice; ‘I am here’, ‘you are safe’. It’s all I can offer, a temporary crutch to lean on and it is not enough. She thought sadly.

Rosalie deserved so much more than she, or anyone else thus far in her life - however long that’d been - could offer her. Maybe someday someone - her mate possibly? - could give her what she needed and Isabella fought the tightness in her chest at the thought and the misery it caused her beating heart. Isabella impulsively kissed the back of Rosalie’s soft hand, the vampire watched the action with curiosity over her hooded burning eyes.

“I know I don’t really know you, regardless, you should always be given the opportunity and safety to ask for what you want Rose, and to change your mind.” Isabella smiled and kissed her gently, “anyone offering anything less than that is not worth your time, which I you already know…“ Isabella laughed nervously and gestured with her eyes to her state of dress, at the white sheet draped over her bare midriff. Rosalie smiled tightly but her face was so incredibly soft. “you deserve to be given a choice, princess” she squeezed her hand twice.

‘I am here’ the small gesture repeated, ‘you are safe’. This vampire, this woman, deserved the fucking world, she knew it somehow, she knew it like she knew the earth was round and raced through the galaxies above chasing the a golden ball of fire with the same reckless abandonment that her pulse rattled in her neck.

Rosalie’s tentative smile and shy uncertain exterior suddenly shattered before her very (wide) eyes and in their place, was the picture of a very hungry goddess. Pure undeniable hunger - so potent Isabella could practically taste it radiated from the vampire.

She knew instinctively that this sudden ravenous starvation was not for blood, or feeding, but for another kind of pleasure - Isabella’s body . Isabella hoped this meant Rosalie had decided she’d allow Isabella to explore the blondes own luscious curves and heated centre.

The brunette wet her lips before Rosalie attacked them with her hungry mouth…

Vampires had very heightened senses and emotions, and the latter’s sheer range and intensity rivalled most creatures that presently walked the earth, this much Isabella was certain. It came with her experience and expertise, of her studious studying of many of said creatures.

What was a mere kiss to mortals, however pleasant, felt like fireworks exploding in one’s mouth to a vampire. Isabella would know, they are not good at controlling their emotions when experiencing such a wonderful sensation…

Rosalie kissed and nibbled at her lips, earlobe, and neck, pulling sensual moans from the brunette at every touch. She kissed her with a ferociousness like she’d never done before. Tiny fireworks exploded in their joined mouths, tongues battled for dominance. The blonde unknowingly projected her joy and excitement all the while, feeding into Isabella’s already overwhelming aroused state.

Furthermore, the blood drinking creatures saw in a phenomenal blended kaleidoscope of colour and light, seeing even the most minute of details with the naked eye like a microscope from many distances away. For instance, they could clearly see a tiny bead of sweat as it crept inconspicuously down a warm, red face.

Rosalie wiped a tiny droplet of sweat from Isabella’s temple, the pair sat upright together on the bed, Isabella between Rosalie’s open legs. The vampire smiled like a feline as she tightly gripped some loose damp hair to tip Isabella’s head to the side so she could lick from her jaw to her temple, all the while her devilish fingers pressed and moved fervently against her throbbing clit. Isabella gripped the sheets with everything she had as pleasure ricocheted through her in small sudden waves. Rosalie watched her in fascination. Projecting all her emotions which only added to Isabella’s blissful state.

A vampires sense of smell was near incomprehensible, stronger than a sharks ability to smell blood from great miles away surrounded by blue ocean. Such that they could easily distinguish arousal from fear - a difficult thing (if not impossible) to do for most. The particular sense was only comparable to that of mammal shifters, particularly wolves. Arousal, when welcomed by a vampire, placed them into a near frenzied state. The only emotion close to this for a vampire, was the desire for blood. Desire and blood. Sex and food. Two things vampires loved above all else (besides their mate).

Rosalie growled into Isabella’s throat as the brunette rocked desperately against her hard fingers, scenting Isabella’s essence below her ear, the smell of their joined arousal causing the vampire to drop her free hand below her own waistline. Blackened eyes widened with lust as she rubbed herself simultaneously as she continued to fuck and buck herself against Isabella’s wet core. Their combined smells and sounds lead them both into a near frenzy.

Vampires were stronger than diamonds, their skin near impenetrable. The venom coursing through their veins had beautifully crafted their bodies into apex predators, creatures of impossible strength and beauty. They appeared beautiful, and like moths to a flame, easily attracted their pray.

“Yes, yes, harder baby, oh my…” Isabella chanted as the blonde picked up her pace, pressing harder against Isabella’s soaked and swollen clit. “Fuck yourself harder Rose, that’s it baby!” Rosalie’s eyes slammed shut as she simultaneously fucked herself, Isabella clung to the woman and raked her blunt nails up and down her solid back, her hand long since sliding under the rumpled shirt she wore. Her whispered filthy encouragements were met with harder thrusts, louder grunts and moans.

Isabella had fallen victim to this kind of  incomprehensibly beautiful creature once before, unknowingly dazzled by a perfect smiling face, devoid of any visible flaws that no surgeon could ever accomplish replicating. Isabella was an idiot then, it was true.

But she was merely human, and attracted to a creature designed to trap her like a Venus fly trap was made to lure and kill its chosen food. So she’d vowed never to be such a fool again, to learn from her mistakes made in her human life.

Sure, she could have her fun as and when she felt like it, with creatures of all genders that she fancied, vampires included. Vampires especially . Maybe to spite him at first, but she soon realised this was a childish petty behaviour. Given, as her education on the species increased with her age and Orion’s experiences.

She acknowledged that vampires were perfect specimens of their kind, their pray was humans, she couldn’t blame herself for her past weaknesses, but she could learn from them. And she learnt that Edward and his family were cruel in their treatment of her. Sure Victoria hunted and tortured her, but she never pretended to be anything other than the villain that she was. Isabella still hadn’t concluded who was more cruel from her past.

Nevertheless she promised that she would never, ever, ever lose herself again to one such predator. They could certainly not hurt her physically, moreover she would not allow them - or anyone - to hurt her in the awful way he had. The way they had.

She’d made absolute certain of this. Such were her severe lessons she’d been forced to learn the hard way. The lamb need only be as weak as its nature dictated, but it could learn, it could fight, it could change and evolve. It could become the lion. So Isabella became a fucking lioness…

…Isabella pulled Rosalie’s face towards her and kissed her with absolutely everything she had, panting and groaning as her tongue lashed inside her mouths. She gripped tightly onto Rosalie’s strong shoulders as the blonde suddenly pummelled her fingers in and out of her pussy with a frantic energy that had the brunette immediately screaming her intense release, head bowed back as Rosalie held hooked her leg under Isabella’s open legs and rubbed herself with her hand.

The blondes release followed shortly thereafter with a muted cry, lips lightly sucking against Isabella’s bared throat as she came in  breathy, beautiful moan. Their mingled sounds created a symphony that Isabella could listen to on repeat. The emotions that crashed through her as they came, fucking terrified and thrilled her simultaneous. They kissed lazily, enjoying the little shockwaves from their own orgasms they kissed and touched as though they had an eternity to do so and nothing else mattered.

Isabella did not have the wherewithal to worry too much about the fact that she felt like she’d been teleported into another realm. Rosalie’s breath tickled her neck and she stroked along her hip with her damp fingers, a small smile on her mouth.

Isabella had honestly never seldom experienced anything more wonderful, more sensual than laying with Rosalie, completely spent from orgasms and yet, excited for more.

And she should’ve noticed, she should’ve cared more to analyse and define the strong emotions as they coursed through her like silent assassins moving through the darkness. Her pointed ignorance was foolish.

It was the most foolish she’d ever been in twenty years. But Isabella was high on her recently departed orgasm, obsessed with the angelic creature languidly stroking and petting her to notice. She was suddenly so excited on wanting - on needing - to make Rosalie come even harder, under her tongue and touch, too distracted by it all to give a flying fuck about her silly vows and foolishness.

Instead, Isabella Swan chastely kissed Rosalie’s temple and she clung to the vampire like a protective bear. 

She ignored the rightness of the blonde that nestled into her sweetly, her head right over her erratically beating heart as she ran her fingers through her blonde locks with a content smile etched on her face.

Rosalie allowed her clothes to be torn from her body as Isabella raked her teeth against the blondes slender neck. It certainly didn’t take them long to grow impatient with their resting, they had remained quietly touching and petting for long minutes but the touching quickly escalated and resurrected their arousal tenfold. Until here they were, with Isabella tugging desperately at Rosalie’s crumpled clothing and Rosalie vigorously pumping and curling her fingers inside the brunette.

The blonde used her free hand to help the frantic brunette pull (tear) her clothes away from her shaking goddess-like body. Isabella soon came with Rosalie’s name whispered into the blondes open mouth as the vampire lay on her side beside the twitching brunette with just her matching blue bra and panty set.

Rosalie suddenly shifted her to the side gently before she slowly unclasped her bra, and looped the satin damp panties down her long legs, stepping out of them as she lay with practiced ease.

Isabella sat bolt upright, knowing full well that her eyes no doubt glowed a piercing green from her brief loss of control at the mesmerising sight that sat before her. In nothing but a coy and gentle smile, laid Rosalie. She draped herself back against the crumpled sheets, laying in the centre of the bed against the crushed silk pillows, before she pulled the shaky and sweaty Isabella to settle on top of her, open legs draped on either side of the tall woman.

Isabella gasped as their naked forms touched and moulded together with startling ease. Despite Isabella’s countless lovers, (vampire and non-vampire alike), they could never prepare her for the absolute ecstasy of leaning down and kissing a naked Rosalie. Of their naked forms touching completely, of their breasts and pebbled nipples grazing over one another as if they were designed to do so. None, absolutely none of her past lovers, felt like the moaning blonde beneath her.

Isabella felt near euphoric as Rosalie continued to kiss her sweetly, a shared content smile on their lips when the woman pulled away and stroked a featherlight finger down Isabella’s cheek. The woman appeared almost as disheveled by their experience - but she hid her emotions well, Isabella only got quick little flickers of them, certainly not long enough to cling onto and examine them. Isabella leaned into the touch and smiled when Rosalie cupped her cheek and returned her

She’d never cursed her ability to read emotions before - it was essentially permanently switched off save for the heightened emotions sometimes forced upon her, she hated it after all. But now? With Rosalie’s blank expression and non-beating heart giving absolutely nothing away? Her small smile and dark orbs seemed to be hiding something, holding something back.

Isabella wanted more than anything to know what the stoic blonde was feeling, what she hid behind her dazzling uncertain smile. She wanted to peel back the layers of the woman and not see just the obvious lust or anger or indifference she wore like a mask - but deeper. Did she feel as out of sorts right then? Did she feel the tightness in her chest when they touched? Did she feel the rightness of it? Was she as scared and confused? What did she do to pass her time?

But Isabella could not use her ability to answer her raging thoughts, not when Rosalie muttered “please, Isabella, touch me ” and not when she tilted the brunettes chin upward, capturing her green eyes and Isabella observed the overwhelming desire in those obsidian orbs. And especially not when those questions - or more so the answers to them - terrified Isabella beyond reason.

Rosalie shifted her hand and ghosted a touch over her lower lip with the pad of her thumb. Isabella swallowed as she watched while the tiny hairs on her arms and neck stood upright. The brunette captured and gripped the hand lightning fast, before softly, slowly kissing the inner wrist, she inhaled Rosalie’s scent deeply and smiled as Rosalie squirmed slightly beneath her.

“As you command, princess” Isabella whispered against the wrist. Isabella leant down and kissed her lips gently, cupping her cheeks as she did so, she felt pleasure wash through her like kissing Rosalie was the last drop of blue in the ocean that she simply had to have.

Isabella placed little kisses and nips down her neck painfully slowly, she sucked at certain places over her protruding collarbone, and when she finally placed her lips around Rosalie’s pebbled nipple, she sighed as though she’d been given a slice of heaven.

She licked the hard pale bud slowly, holding Rosalie’s watchful, lust filled eyes as she did so. Rosalie suddenly tangled her fingers between Isabella’s hair. Isabella smirked around the sensitive nipple and slowly tightened her own hands around Rosalie’s slightly raised hips, and dropped them to her perfectly rounded and perky ass. She squeezed her ass right when she rolled her tongue back and forth over the glistening wet nipple.

“Mmmmmm” Rosalie moaned, her eyes rolling behind her head.

Isabella kissed and played with Rosalie’s absolutely perfect breasts for what felt like both hours and only seconds before she began to slowly kiss down her defined stomach, licking over the groves of her toned abs and down to her slightly protruding hipbone. She glanced up at the blonde, and Rosalie eagerly nodded her approval several times.

“Tell me what you like, and if you need me to, I’ll stop any time okay princess?” She said into the grove of the blondes hip, Rosalie visibly swallowed.

“Mhm” the blonde mumbled. Isabella smiled up at the woman, who’d maintained her composure until finally Isabella kissed over Rosalie’s mound, the small dark blonde hairs tickled her chin.

Rosalie opened her legs wider with a sly grin on her face, and Isabella’s growled at the sight of her perfect glistening pussy patiently waiting for her mouth. She inhaled the delicious scent deeply and ensured the smell of Rosalie’s wetness burned in her mind forever.    

Isabella slowly lowered her head and parted her folds with her tongue. At the first taste of the vampire, Isabella had to withhold a surprised sob from escaping her throat. For her mouth was far too content, too focused, to deter from its delicious activities to release the sudden emotion. Though Isabella did acknowledge that Rosalie tasted like actual heaven. Like unimaginable, unobtainable perfection. Isabella couldn’t get enough of the moisture on her tongue, such that she licked as much as she could from the folds as she explored.

“Ohhh, mmmm” Rosalie moaned deeply, her hand tangled tighter in Isabella’s hair, tugging lightly and the brunette grinned into her warm pussy.

“You taste fucking incredible, Rose,” she whispered, knowing the vampire could her hear loud and clear, Rosalie’s breathing increased, her chest heaved as she enjoyed the show.

She slowly slid her tongue up and down the slit, “I’m gonna devour you, princess,” she added, her tone so low and husky she barely recognised it as herself, she was not usually so dirty , “and I’m gonna make you cum So. Fucking. Hard…” Rosalie’s breathing was frantic, her noises almost animalistic as she gripped Isabella’s head tighter, holding her in place.

“Fuck me with your dirty mouth, beautiful” Rosalie blurted and Isabella thought she may have died and gone to heaven at the breathy, filthy string of expletives the blonde uttered as Isabella finally pressed her tongue against Rosalie’s engorged clitoris and she licked . She enthusiastically devoured her pussy.

Isabella set a steady quick pace, alternating her enthusiastic licking from up and down motions to little circles, testing combinations of speed and pressure against Rosalie’s sensitive clit.

All the while assessing what the blonde liked from the increase in her breathy moans, erratic tugging and various curses. She quickly used her tongue to gather wetness from near Rosalie’s entrance, not close enough to make the blonde uncomfortable, remembering the strict boundaries she respected, though close enough so she could gather the moisture to lather her sensitive clit with additional slickness.

“Oh my god, yesss” Rosalie hissed, “harder, oh, fuck, yes just like that” Isabella sped up her motions, pressing impossibly harder, her teeth tentatively rakes over the bud and Rosalie bucked with a surprised “fuuuuck”

Isabella moaned and pressed her tongue even harder, faster, before she circled the bud with her lips and sucked deeply, expertly balancing her licking with deep sudden sucking that had Rosalie writhing in pleasure before her, pulling and yanking at her hair. Isabella witnessed the vampire winding up like an elastic band, her release building and building. She felt the woman’s stomach muscles coil and release in quick little bursts as her pleasure increased to unimaginable levels.

Isabella sucked the bud hard, her hands freely roamed Rosalie’s body and played with her full breasts, she flicked and tugged her perky pink dusted nipples as her mouth continued to fuck, lick and kiss Rosalie’s clit with a hunger she’d never experienced before.

Rosalie’s writhing grew frantic, her body arching off the bed, Isabella was so turned on she felt like she could come herself just from the act of fucking the gorgeous vampire, but the ache in her own centre would have to wait.

There was something so utterly important about getting this woman to her release, a primal need to please her she didn’t dare examine. She closed her mouth around the throbbing bud and sucked impossibly hard . Rosalie whimpered and fucked her face with reckless abandon, her fingernails dug into her scalp as she kept Isabella’s tongue and face where she wanted her. The blondes wetness coated her lips and chin, she practically dripped with her slick wetness and still the blonde fucked her face getting the wetness all over the bed and Isabella’s cheeks all the while mumbling profanities and begging for more .

“Fuck!” Rosalie yelled, “Isa- I’m gonna-oh my god…fuuuck” Isabella moaned against the sensitive flesh as Rosalie screamed her name as she came. She felt some sudden dampness gush from Rosalie’s entrance and it coated her chin and neck as Rosalie rode her intense release, rubbing her pussy against Isabella’s tongue and lips, her black eyes slammed shut in ecstasy. Her hands so tight on Isabella’s hair that it hurt like a bitch but in the most glorious way.

Still, Isabella grinned like a fool, watching intently as the various emotions that the vampire displayed on her face and body. The projection of her pleasure was so strong Isabella felt her own albeit smaller release. She gripped Rosalie’s ass as she rubbed herself against Rosalie’s thigh, riding the tiny orgasm in a few seconds as the blondes intense orgasm continued to wash over and through her. Isabella felt utterly elated, more satisfied than she could ever recall feeling.

Isabella’s hand slipped away from Rosalie’s backside and gently she intertwined their fingers together, the blonde immediately tightened her hold as her body shook with tiny after shocks. Her eyes still closed though her body had slumped against the bed. Isabella crawled up the body, and nestled Rosalie under her arm, pulling her tightly against her.

Rosalie held onto her with an arm flung over her midriff, their hands still intertwined, she tucked her head neatly under her shoulder as she breathed heavily. Her thighs shook intermittently and she had yet to open her eyes. Isabella smiled softly at the woman and kissed her bear shoulder.

Isabella squeezed the spent woman’s hand once, twice.

‘I am here’

‘you are safe’ …

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, but Isabella was so content, so spellbound and spent, that as soon as her eyelids fluttered closed, sleep greeted her into its eager arms almost immediately.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16
Be brave, Rosie

For those of us who are trying to be brave, and for those who are marching on - enjoy the journey and embrace the flutters. 

~ Rosalie ~

Flashback: 1992, Cullen Mansion, Chicago

“This is so stupid” Rosalie deadpanned as she held a multicoloured glittery and bejewelled scarf of some sort that her excitable sister had ‘made especially’ for her and regarded the garment with contempt.

“Don’t be such a spoil sport, Rue” Emmett playfully chided as he casually draped a massive rainbow feather boa over his broad shoulders. Rosalie glared at him in disbelief.

“I don’t see why we need to go, we’ve avoided them since they started in the 70s, why attend now, what’s so special about this particular annual event?” Edward added his tone held a sight whine to it as he eyed a tub of glitter that balanced precariously on the edge of a side table with uttermost suspicion and contempt though for once, Rosalie agreed with her stoic brother.

Alice Cullen, however, self proclaimed social secretary of the coven and all around pain in Rosalie’s ass enthusiastically rounded a tight corner of their rented mansion with a grin so wide it unnerved Rosalie right down to her core.

After all, it was one of the Oracles classic ‘I know something you don’t know’ looks, the pixie had long been banned from looking into their futures but their arguing didn’t stop her, not really.

In silent protest, Rosalie began singing the rhyme in a childlike voice on a loop in her mind, wearing a deep scowl and sinister grin on her face all the while, and envisioned signing it to Alice, her sister simply rolled her eyes at the blondes antics. Edward met her eyes and half-smirked, it was the closest the moody boy got to smiling, she smirked back before Alice’s bell-like voice broke their rare sibling bonding moment.

“I told you, this event is important,” she stressed with a small hidden smile at Rosalie before she violently stabbed another colourful shiny diamanté onto some sort of extravagant white shirt collar. Poor Jasper , she thought eyeing the sparkling garment. Edward grimaced in silent agreement.

“besides we can’t keep missing out on living through key historical moments because you are afraid of losing your cool around the humans, and you are terrified of The Volturi if one of us loses our cool in front of the humans” the pixie punctuated her point with a single accusatory finger at Edward and then Rosalie respectively. Rosalie merely folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes to the ceiling in protest.

“You’re insufferable” she muttered as she glared at the garish accessory Alice held out for Jasper. The Texan merely grabbed the shirt, kissed his wife on her cheek and pulled the bejewelled thing over his head without so much as a compliant.

“Maybe so, but you love me” Rosalie scoffed and Alice danced and twirled with her own feather-boa until she wound it around Rosalie’s neck with a small giggle. What a sight she must look - stood there regal like donning a fashionable white and pale yellow sundress, makeup applied minimum but enough to accentuate her natural (and unnatural) beauty, golden hair curled at the ends and draped over one shoulder - the stylish outfit and her beauty all contrasted with a bright multicoloured feather boa! She must’ve been truly horrible in another life to deserve this mistreatment.

“Don’t look so cross Rose, your face will get stuck like that!” she flicked Rosalie’s nose and Emmett choked on a laugh before he awkwardly cleared his throat at the deadly glare from his on again off again (currently the latter) girlfriend.

“Fine, let’s just get this over with,” she said as she tugged the garish accessory off her slender neck, “but I am not wearing this… thing ” Alice pouted at her and she shook her head, “no, it is hideous” she finished with a glare. Alice glared right back, utter defiance in her golden gaze and stomped her foot like the child she was.

“Let’s go or we’re gonna miss the parade!” Emmett intervened, pulling his own accessory around his neck, always the peace maker.

The Cullen clan, sans their adopted ‘parents’, all made their way to the door at a regular human pace. Rosalie quickly snatched the car keys from their little hook and grinned devilishly whilst dangling them before her family.

“I’m driving” the group gave a collective groan, Emmett subtly tugged his boa tighter, Jasper helplessly stared at the still drying and fragile diamantés on his shirt collar and Alice Cullen sighed deeply, staring off into the distance as her eyes glazed over, no doubt witnessing the approaching carnage. Rosalie grinned like a feral manic. Serves them right for forcing me into this farcical nonsense…

Rosalie reluctantly tied the colourful feather boa around her slim waist and levelled a glare filled with contempt at her gleeful and smug sister. Stupid pixie. She thought pettily. Edward scoffed and Emmett grinned like a guilty golden retriever. The small group of vampires rounded a street corner and stood silently for several moments…

Rosalie Hale had seen and lived through a great many historical moments in her long afterlife. The Women’s Rights Movement, Prohibition, World War I and II, to name but a few. And for the most part, she watched them from a safe distance, donating her families money to certain causes from an even further distance. It was safer this way, for everyone.

Not once did she allow herself to freely immerse herself in the moment, or movement, they weren’t her moments after all- they belonged to the humans’, a species in which she was no longer. At the most, she ensured she participated very little, a silent Women’s March in the back here, buying a few smuggled barrels of booze to consume and sell on there, but she was careful to keep a respectable distance from humanity, so afraid she’d compromise her integrity and deadly secret.

Such was her curse, to observe but to never truly participate. Traipsing through life like a silent ghost that witnessed history but was never part of it. The Horatio of human existence, cursed to watch and record history but never to belong in it.

That was all until now. Until this event. Until this moment...

To start, the Cullen’s tentatively moved toward a large gathering crowd, cautiously and silently observing the gathered humans, with an excitable Alice at their helm.

Hundreds of people of all shapes and sizes stood, danced, laughed, drank, sang and waved. Some wearing colourful clothing and/or accessories, happily waving rainbow flags of various sizes. A sea of red, purple, green, blue, pink, yellow and orange suddenly moved forward as one, a wave of colour.

An army of drag queens in huge heels, lovers tangled laughing together, parents smiling and trying hard to be supportive, of women and men and everything in-between, of children and Veterans. They were all welcome and they all smiled and held hands with strangers. Irrespective of race or ethnicity, gender, political affiliation or religion. They held hands and they marched as one unit. They marched atop a path of sprinkled glitter, blatantly ignoring the protesters that tried to dim their light.

It started as a flutter in Rosalie’s stomach, as she watched in muted wonder. She’d seen many marches and demonstrations in her time, and sure she supported them but she never felt that flutter. That sickeningly sweet excitement . The flutter after several minutes of silent observation, moved to her chest and seized it, and she greeted the emotion with open arms. It felt warm and nice. And Rosalie was panicking, spiralling into indecision, lean into it or run away?

With a gentle shove to her shoulder Rosalie was suddenly moving with them, losing herself in the rowdy joyful crowd. She smiled tightly at the curious glances she received. I don’t belong here , this is not my moment. She thought miserably, Rosalie walked ahead desperately searching for a discreet way to escape.

Her eyes darted around for her family, she thought she spotted them some few yards back and tried to reach them until a tiny child  probably barely five grabbed ahold of her hand. She stared at her in confusion and muted shock. Stared at the tiny rainbow painted on her small pink cheek, her friendly blue-violet eyes stared up at her openly scrutinising the tall blonde. Rosalie’s stomach dropped briefly.

The girl didn’t flinch at her cold touch and marble skin, didn’t seem to notice her inhuman beauty, or her unspoken fear. The little mousy blonde child smiled, a gap shown between her middle two teeth and she tugged her forward, squeezing her hand once in comfort. Rosalie was in a stupor, but she moved forward with her, too aghast to do anything other. She searched for her mother who smiled apologetically at the dumbfounded blonde. Perhaps the child had sensed her reluctance? Her fear? A monster didn’t belong amongst this wonder, this joy after all. But the little girl tugged her hand anyway, pulling a slightly reluctant Rosalie along like she belonged exactly where she was.

And shortly thereafter, as the child had introduced her to her moms and they introduced her to their sweet friends. Rosalie Hale was singing along to Madonna and Cher and Abba songs, brandishing a small genuine smile all the while. For the first time possibly in her life (and afterlife) Rosalie Hale simply was . She forgot about her sad past as she laughed and twirled the little girl and smirked at the grown up jokes her new friends told.

She swigged cheap beer when it was offered to her and gracefully moved and skipped forward with the huge crowd to a destination she didn’t care to know, because the journey there was more important, more fun .

Rosalie felt free for the first time, but more so, she felt like she belonged and she felt a tiny shard of her heart return to her chest when she danced and sang the day away under the overcast Chicago sky, receiving compliments about her ‘rad body glitter’.

She knew somehow this feeling wouldn’t last forever, it didn’t hide the monster she was and didn’t want to be, it didn’t put a bandaid over her history or trauma and it certainly didn’t give her any particular guidance on bridging the gap from who she was and who she could be.

But none of that mattered in the moment. Because Rosalie Hale felt briefly, miraculously alive for the first time in decades.

She of course entirely missed the puzzled expressions on her brothers faces as they watched the uncharacteristic behaviour unfold before them from the ice queen herself.

Though her sister smiled knowingly and held tightly to Jaspers arm, twirling herself this way and that to the music.

“Important event indeed, Alicat” he purred conspiratorially in her ear. Alice smirked and tugged him in for a quick but passionate kiss, wolf whistles echoed around the couple and they smiled against their joined lips.

Her husband squeezed the pixies hand comfortingly and smiled at her excitable expression, the sea of colour reflected in her golden eyes as they tracked Rosalie.

The southern Major was barely capable of tolerating the emotions being forcibly fed to him, but the joy emanating from the crowd and from Rosalie was surprising, pleasant even. The vampires observed their cold and reserved sister as she got lost in her rare moment of living, so much so, she’d long since ceased looking for her coven mates.

Present day, Rosalie’s Cabin, Remote Alaska

Moments where Rosalie felt so alive were extremely rare for her, and usually very private and personal. She’d never felt it so powerfully since that day in Chicago, despite attending a random Pride Parade annually, choosing a city she’d never experienced it before. Last year it’d been Rio, the year before London. Sometimes her some or one of the Cullen coven came along, but for the most part, she enjoyed the time to herself.

She’d stayed in contact with that little family, the little girl was now an adult with her own family. Rosalie sent them cards and presents on their birthdays and at Christmas. She FaceTimed them sometimes, but she maintained a wall between them.

She’d quietly attended the older lesbian couples wedding when it was legalised, and then their gay friends funeral shortly after the pride festival she met him at when he sadly succumbed to the AIDS virus. She’d kept it all secret of course, information locked tightly away in her heart. Perhaps it was a lapse in judgement on her part to allow herself to grow close to the humans, yet, she did it anyway.

In fact, she intended to introduce herself as Rosalie’s granddaughter in a few more years, so she could stay in contact with them, if they’d like. Given the family currently believed they communicated via letter and email and card to Rosalie’s daughter , because her mother had early onset dementia. Perhaps it was a cruel lie but a necessary one in her cruel world to keep her friends safe.

Isabella suddenly mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, scrunching her nose cutely and flung her arm around Rosalie’s bare midriff to pull her into her sleeping form tighter. The sudden action broken Rosalie from her happier memories. She smiled at the naked woman and lightly raked her fingers between her silky hair, until Isabella sighed contentedly, lost once more in her deep slumber.

Rosalie felt that same fluttering again, the beginnings of a terrible but wonderful emotion; belonging. She’d felt it firstly with Isabella as they slept together, with how attentive and sweet the brunette had been with her. How firm, with her sexy eyes and commands and yet, there was an undeniable softness to her treatment of Rosalie. She both turned her on and made her feel like goo. And the hand squeezing! Gosh it was adorable! Isabella regularly checked in on the blonde, somehow sensing her spiralling into her near panicked states, as she struggled with the intimacy after all these years… well, the flutters in her stomach were near constant.

Once again she had experienced a key event in her afterlife that she knew was important, though how it was important that she didn’t yet know. On the one hand, she didn’t really want to know, for it terrified her beyond all sensible reason.

Just like confessing to Alice shortly after that Pride Parade in Chicago that she may not be ‘just an ally’ to the growing queer community. That perhaps she felt like she belonged a little bit with them, understood their struggle, similarity to how she understood the women’s movement and their ongoing struggle. She wasn’t just watching their experience, she’d lived it, however unaware she’d been at the time. It’d filled her with a terror she’d never been prepared for.

Despite the similar stomach clenching terror she experienced as she smiled down at the sleeping woman beside her, she knew on a fundamental level, she had to enjoy the rare emotions from their time together.

She closed her eyes briefly and thought of their bodies tangled together only hours before. Of their whispered words of affirmation and begging for more , of Isabella’s hot mouth on her core producing waves and waves of pleasure she’d never known or experienced.

Her eyes opened sluggishly and she smiled sadly at the beautiful figure, if only Isabella wasn’t just passing through Alaska, if only she wasn’t human, if only l was brave enough to pursue her anyway.

“You’re so beautiful” she whispered a bit wistfully, and she couldn’t help but place a lingering kiss to the sleeping woman’s shoulder. Moonlight reached out and basked the woman’s side profile, it moulded itself to the brunettes figure like a glove casting a soft glow to her skin.

The silver moonlight highlighted several scars on her back, some big and others small. Rosalie traced over them lightly with her fingertips, and she wondered where the human had gotten them. Some were ugly deep jagged things, those puzzled her the most. Her fingers traced them over, then down to her hip where they paused and circled back, given the thin sheet was wrapped around Isabella’s legs, one poked out to the side.

“Who are you?” She wondered aloud, her voice low and quiet and filled with burning curiosity. She sighed softly, resigned to her fate, her curse, her lonely existence.

‘You’d not be so lonely if you tried more’ a bitter voice chastised in her mind, her voice. The voice that she regularly ignored, it was easier to ignore it than to face it. Yet, why did it hurt - the thought of this person, this stranger, this beautiful woman, leaving in the morning never to be seen or heard from again? It was incomprehensible and yet, it was to be her reality. 

Perhaps she should just be thankful for her moments with the girl with the big brown sometimes green eyes and wry grin. Perhaps she should put it all into another box, locked away in her heart, that she could recall when she felt the need to. Perhaps she should simply enjoy their short journey from their meeting to present and not dwell on the smidge of pain that hurt her heart at the thought of the girl leaving?

Rosalie sighed and sat back against her headboard, she closed her eyes, feeling tired somehow - perhaps I need to feed? She unconsciously glanced at Isabella’s exposed neck and licked her lips. Perhaps I will should hunt soon. Her fingers traced along Isabella’s back absently, lightly stroking over her hip and down to the top of her perky ass, and then looped the pathway over and over. Until the moon was chased away by the rising sun, and her cell buzzed with an incoming message.

She reached beside her to read it on the notification bar, a simple sentence that made her feel sick, could vampires even be sick? Will I be the first? The three little words produced a dozen rapid fire questions that whirred in her mind as her stomach clenched and her heart lurched:

Alice C 🔮 : Be brave Rosie x

Chapter Text

Chapter 17:

We are alive…

Fools rush in, and I've been fooled before, This time I'm gonna slow it down…Just please don't say you love me, Cause I might not say it back, Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping, When you look at me like that, There's no need to worry when, You see just where we're at., Just please don't say you love me, Cause I might not say it back ~ Gabrielle Aplin

~ Isabella ~

Isabella was gloriously sore. Her sleep idled brain slowly registered several spots on her body that could do with a good stretch and a long soak in a hot bath; complete with some spelled healing salts and warm candle-light. She felt the need to soak all of her limbs, scrub her hair and wrap herself permanently in whatever wonderful scent that surrounded her as she greedily inhaled the smell from her soft silk pillow.

“Mmm” she hummed as she stretched slowly, her arms firstly reached upward under the pillow.

Her eyes remained shut as her brain focused primarily on waking her fully; she stretched her legs out next, enjoying the sensation of the joints and sore muscles waking up. She turned onto her back and felt the cool air as it flitted across her bare stomach and chest.

Wait. Bare?

Isabella’s equilibrium was suddenly skewed; the fantom feeling of a cool body pressed against hers, of silky blonde hair tickling her neck and long strong arms holding her as she slept soundly.

Rosalie!

Her eyes flew open in sudden alarm - because that glorious sexy body was not beside her. She sat up, awkwardly tugging the sheet around her and slowly stroked over the empty space beside her with her fingers, a slight dent in the soft mattress from Rosalie’s body that’d recently been vacated by the beautiful blonde. Isabella sighed through her nose.

“Did she really leave me in her house?” She puzzled, surprised by the sudden sharp stab of pain that echoed in her chest, Isabella rolled her eyes at herself. “Not cool” she muttered.

Her eyes blinked slowly several times as they adjusted to her surroundings and the Alaskan sun shone into the large room, illuminating the space. Isabella stood and pulled the thin silken sheet around her body in a voice grip, as she slowly perused Rosalie’s private space feeling only marginally guilty for doing so.

The room really was huge, with a very minimalistic interior design of soft beiges and whites with small accents of silver. A wooden desk sat in the corner with a laptop, various writing utensils and the soul photograph in the room. A slightly faded polaroid.

There Rosalie stood, relaxed smiling widely with a multicoloured feather-boa draped around her neck over a cute pale yellow sundress, in her front stood a little girl  about 5 or 6, with sun kissed skin, rosy cheeks and a big gap between her front two teeth, the girls little hand loosely bunched at the blondes dress. Isabella smiled at the cute moment captured by the photograph, her heart warmed immensely at the scene and her mind whirred with questions.

She sighed and turned away from the desk to face a huge bookcase, filled to the brink with so many books. Old looking volumes, newer texts, fiction, non-fiction, autobiographies… the collection was gloriously extensive.

The large floor to ceiling bookcase took up the whole opposite wall and snaked around the door. Isabella lightly touched along the spines of some as she wandered. Her eyes fixating on several that stood out to her, some well maintained first editions she’d love to get her hands on, so much so her fingers twitched at her side with obvious want .

“Advanced physics, Physics for Scientists and Engineers, Advanced modern Engineering Mathematics…” Isabella touched some of the volumes upon volumes of mathematical, scientific, engineering and mechanical engineering books with her forefinger and whistled, “so she’s probably super smart too? Figures” She concluded with an incredulous chuckle.

She spared one last yearning glance at the rows of books, before cinching the sheet around her shoulders tighter and padding to the other side of the bed, where a huge window the whole length and height of the room greeted her.

The Alaskan sun shone a light butterscotch colour over the sky, its powerful rays partially obscured by the miles and miles of trees. Isabella stared in wonder at the amazing view the window framed for her, immediately she understood why Rosalie had designed the room the way she had.

This beautiful landscape was the true inspiration. The true focal point. Not the extravagant four poster bed, not the dramatic exposed wooden beams above her head, not the opulent furnishings. No. The expensive material objects, the gorgeous modern cabin itself paled in comparison to what lay just outside its doors. Rosalie knew it, it was obvious in the subtle design of her home. Isabella stared outward in open mouthed wonder…

Trees of all kinds and sizes surrounded the area, lines and lines of them; they stood proud tall and short, some donned huge wooden branches, the old and newly planted weaves together in a delicate poetic dance with Mother Nature. They dutifully sat by lazily flowing rivers of various sizes and haphazardly rested up snow tipped mountains and hills in the far distance.

The various tones of greens and yellows in their leaves melted together with random blooming flowers of pinks, purples, and whites, all brought together by the pale blue sky overhead to create a canopy of vibrant colour that due to her enhanced sight, Isabella was captivated by the wilderness before her.

In the wildness of it.

She wondered what other supernaturals made this part of the earth their home. It was an ideal location truly. The La Push pack would love it here . What’s left of them. She thought sadly.

She suddenly registered the cacophony of sounds that bled all around her, her sensitive ears picking them up easily from the early morning woodland she quietly observed. Songs from a variety of birds, growls and grunts from nearby predators, the frantic pitter-patter of smaller creatures scurrying about the woodland floor, up and under trees all created a mismatched symphony that screamed; ‘we are alive’.

Isabella hugged herself as she watched the tree-line for several silent moments, content to coexist amongst the beauty before her; a silent observer to the nature. Orion’s presence pushed into the front of her mind comfortingly as they paused to watch over the wonderful world they fiercely tried to protect.

All the lives she silently advocated for through her contracts, from ensuring predators and game levels were strictly monitored relating to rising vegetarian vampires and shifter hunting, to donating time and money to charities she set up that supported wildlife conversation and rehabilitation.

Isabella and Orion loved this planet they called home and vowed to protect not only the human population, but all lives, big and small, supernatural and otherwise. That included animals and plants and all the creatures buried in the planets blue seas, rivers and oceans.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” a quiet voice interrupted the silence and Isabella jumped slightly, not accustomed to being snuck up on. Sneaky vampire . She smiled all the same, her heart picking up in excitement, each beat seemed to chant; she came back! “It’s certainly more impressive than any artwork I could’ve picked out” As she turned, her smile widened at the sight before her, which she argued was infinitely more magnificent than the scene outside.

Rosalie stood gingerly with a glass of water in her hand, which she slowly placed on the desk, an uncertain smile broke out on her face. The sunlight barely reached her, but it was enough for Isabella to notice the subtle glittering of her skin. She looks like some sort of fucking deity! Isabella slammed her open mouth shut, feeling slightly embarrassed by her openmouthed staring like a teenage boy. “Hi” Rosalie smiled almost shyly and absently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi yourself” Isabella replied, feeling uncharacteristically awkward herself.

“I had to pop to the store and get some food in for our breakfast, I was due to go out yesterday but…” Rosalie rambled and pointedly glanced at the unmade bed, at the sheet Isabella desperately clung to with white knuckled strength. “Well, I got distracted” Isabella acknowledged that this was a white lie, Rosalie was a vampire , she likely had no human food or drink to consume in her fridge besides alcohol. But it was the silly rambling and minute fidgeting that made her smile at the blonde.

“Oh” she replied. Stars above, Isabella! Get it together! She chastised herself, and the tinkling laughter that echoed in her mind was not her own. “Nope” she whispered at her old friend before shutting their channel down.

“Do you always make a habit of talking to yourself?” Rosalie asked curiously, her head tilted ever so slightly in that feline manner of hers.

“Huh?”

“You talk in your sleep…”

Smite me down and kill me off, she thought. How high is this? I’m sure I’d survive the drop…

“Oh, um, sorry? Hopefully I didn’t keep you up?” Another lie. She knew Rosalie did not sleep. And the little lies via omission were beginning to make her feel… uncomfortable . Rosalie’s breathy laugh made her heart pick up its frantic beating. Stupid traitorous, useless organ.

“Not at all,” Rosalie grinned, exposing her straight white teeth, “I have breakfast prepared downstairs, but I thought you might like to freshen up a bit first?” Rosalie winked, she actually winked , and Isabella Swan blushed crimson. “I have business to attend to in the town but not for a little while, I’d be happy to give you a ride?”

“R-right yes, that’d be nice, cooool ” Rosalie seemingly in a poor attempt to hide her amusement giggled behind her hand. Isabella had the good sense to roll her eyes at herself, as she mumbled a half assed self-admonishment.

“Great” the blonde replied, before she swiftly pivoted towards what Isabella assumed was an en-suit bathroom.

Isabella followed the blonde in a half daze, trying her very best not to stare at the alluring sway of Rosalie’s hips. With all the self confidence she could muster, Isabella stood against the doorframe to take the new space in. Another private room for her to assess and add to what she knew about the blonde; what would this room reveal? She pondered.

It was very modern of course, a big walk-in and expensive rain shower, decorated in soft sage greens and cream, splashes of rose gold in the little accents. Tiny bottles of expensive looking toiletries sat in rose gold holder by a cream scrubber. There was a big wide and long sink, a fancy medicine cabinet and a huge oddly shaped mirror over the sink. All in all, it was a nice bathroom, it screamed ‘expensive minimalist’ - tidy and sparkling clean.

Now Isabella was a very clean person herself, but tidy? She tended to have little trinkets from her travels and gifts from her clients and kids from school strewn about her permanent home, a detached little house that sat just outside the school she taught at. She hated bigger cities, but she hardly stayed there in the summers - always being flown here and there to put out fires her supernatural clients lit left and right. Like right now , she thought with a start. Oops .

“There’s a spare unopened toothbrush I laid out there for you” Rosalie said, jolting her from her perusal and minor guilt, “and for the shower, this is the temperature, I like it quite hot so feel free to adjust it” Rosalie guided, “and this is the water pressure” she pointed to another nozzle. Isabella smirked easily, remembering herself. You are not a teenager with a crush, this woman has literally been inside of you, get it together Swan!

Sufficiently chastised and her ego and confidence forcibly boosted, Isabella shifted closer to the blonde with a wicked grin on her face. Her fingers loosened slightly on the sheet, it dropped seductively lower to expose the tops of her shoulders and collarbone. Rosalie’s eyes darkened a shade and Isabella noted that the vampire likely snuck off to hunt in the very early hours, it made sense, her eyes had been a much more pronounced gold with tiny flecks of silver.

“You know, this is a pretty big shower” she said nonchalantly, her tone dropping several octaves, as she reached out and lightly tickled up and down Rosalie’s outstretched forearm with her fingertips. She smirked wide at the sound of the blondes surprised inhalation of breath and the dark molten fire of her gaze. “It’d be a shame to waste all this space…” she slowly stepped forward.

“Is that so?” Rosalie muttered as she allowed herself to be backed up deeper into the shower until her back thumped against the large cool cream tiles “and what do you propose?”

Isabella smirked, and Rosalie’s burning gaze flickered to her swollen lips, the lips she’d unconsciously licked. Oh it was a dangerous game they were playing indeed and Isabella was never quite certain of whom exactly would come out on top. Or alive.

She slowly dropped her lips to Rosalie’s own. The kiss was soft, tender almost.  Isabella deftly reached around the blonde and turned the nozzle as instructed, warm water immediately poured down onto them like misty rain. Rosalie’s clothes immediately soaked through to her smooth skin, water dripped down her face, arms and chest. Her perk nipples stood up immediately and Isabella’s throat tightened as she watched Rosalie make her own assessment of the brunette.

Isabella, unable to control her absolute desperation to touch the blonde, surged forward, trapping the vampire against the wet tile. She simultaneously dropped the sheet and it pooled at her feet as she tore at Rosalie’s soaking white tank and linen shorts with reckless abandon.

They kissed again, their lips meeting desperately. Their hot kisses dissolved into deep sighs and guttural moans as their eager hands trailed down, down, down .

Their kiss was messy and sloppy, a dangerous push and pull of clashing tongues and teeth; both women vying for dominance. Their naked wet bodies moved together like an elaborate dance as they frantically rubbed their throbbing centres against long tangled legs. The water and the hot slick from their pussy’s caused a swift incline in their arousal.

There vocabulary devolved into desperate grunts and harsh curses. Isabella disrupted the condensation on the shower door by gripping Rosalie’s ass and lifting her to rest against the glass. Rosalie hissed in surprise before she moaned as Isabella continued fucking her. Harder, faster, Rosalie’s fingernails dug into and raked down Isabella’s back, over impressive muscles that contorted this way and that with every harsh movement.

The blonde rode her knee and hand with reckless fervour. Isabella moaned as she acknowledged the addictive feeling of their nipples grazing over her lovers, Rosalie’s gorgeous tits bounced and Isabella plucked and licked at a nipple, her own arousal increased tenfold when Rosalie howled and bucked faster.

“Fuck, Rose!” Isabella moaned and she suddenly bit down hard on Rosalie’s neck, she worried for a moment she may have accidentally broken through the diamond skin, but she knew instinctively somehow that she hadn’t.

In part because there remained the loud and desperate yearning feeling clawing at the primal inside of mind to do just that , to mark this creature with her teeth and scent for the whole fucking world to bare witness. Oh and it was this pure sinful need that she could not have that fuelled her frantic fucking of the blond with her knee and hands. She sucked hard on Rosalie’s neck and Rosalie came suddenly, in a loud flurry of curse words and moans.

Isabella possessively tugged her by her ass so she was flush against her fevered body. Isabella reached around and with her thumb she made contact with her soaking pussy, she rubbed hard over her swollen clit and it was all it took for the vampire to lose herself in the throws of her orgasm, eyes slammed closed and face filled with orgasmic bliss. Isabella repeatedly rubbed over her clit gently, helping her ride her powerful release.

The vampire whimpered against Isabella’s throat as she too bit down, Isabella felt dizzy as the very tips of her lovers sharpened and slightly elongated canines came so deliciously close to puncturing her tan skin, she gasped into her wave of pleasure as Rosalie sucked impossibly hard. Isabella came then with a cry of untamed pleasure that remained latched greedily onto Rosalie’s shoulder.

“That’s it beautiful, come for me” Rosalie whispered against her throat, the sultry whispered command had Isabella practically sobbing against her shoulder as another release tore through her wrecked body in harsh little waves. Rosalie clung to her hips, holding her tightly against her, kissing and moaning against her throat all the while. 

And Isabella Swan felt electric. 

She felt alive! 

After Isabella finally regained control over her spasming limbs, Rosalie brought their foreheads to rest against one another. Onyx and green eyes disappeared behind tightly shut eyelids.

Water continued its downpour, its gentle splashing aided them in the slow recovery of their senses. Isabella’s heart beat so incredibly fast in her chest that she was marginally embarrassed Rosalie could hear just how enamoured, how reckless she’d been in the pursuit, in the surrender to her pleasure. Still she shamelessly pulled in Rosalie’s scent through her nose and licked at her neck and collarbone as her mind fought to regain some semblance of control.

Rosalie kissed her forehead softly as though Isabella might shatter, and she was suddenly assaulted with the sickly sweet feeling of ‘goodbye’. She wasn’t certain if she was experiencing Rosalie’s emotions or more worryingly, her own .

The feeling of something precious slipping through her fingers hit her like a tsunami; like trying to stand against the powerful current in a river on its rushing need to get to where all rivers end up. The ocean.

Isabella felt a bit helpless like that; like standing in a river and wanting desperately to be able to control its wildness, only for her to realise that she could not, no one truly could. But she wanted to, she wanted to stop feeling so helpless, paralysed by the very thought of leaving. It was all a bit too much for someone who was certainly not prepared to feel such a strong reaction. Whether experiencing Her own charged emotions or not. Isabella bit her lip and tried unsuccessfully to control her rapidly beating heart. It beat faster for a wholly different reason; anticipation of loss. But this was silly, foolish, idiotic - I hardly know her for stars sake! 

“We should get cleaned up, I need to head off soon” Rosalie broke the silence and Isabella could only nod mutely. The tightness in her heart intensified, her chest hurt, as Rosalie dutifully rubbed shampoo in her hair gently, then helped her wash it off with practiced ease, she repeated this with the conditioner. Isabella numbly allowed herself to be washed with the scrubber and the smell of Rosalie’s shampoo and body wash enveloped her. Too afraid of her own emotions to comment on the sweet and very intimate act of being washed clean.

And yet, why did she feel dirty? Despite the soapy suds coating her body, and the pleasant scent of citrus and jasmine sticking to her skin? Why did she still feel so unclean?

She felt the sudden urge to cry and had absolutely no idea why. Then it struck her, she never ever allowed this kind of closeness or intimacy, but it came so naturally with this person who hummed a pretty melody under breath as she washed away the grime from Isabella’s body as though she were caring for her lover, and certainly not a near stranger she’d met in a bar the very night before.

“Thanks, Princess” she said hating how her voice cracked just a little bit. She hoped Rosalie didn’t notice it, she told herself she hadn’t, it helped her when she swallowed and fought for control over her emotions.

She delicately placed a hand atop the blondes, pausing her ministrations with the bubbly scrubber. Rosalie smiled at her confused, though her gold eyes held a certain air about them, caution perhaps. Did Rosalie feel it too, this preposterous sense of loss? Was Isabella simply going mad after all she’d endured? What the fuck was happening?

Seemingly to sense Isabella’s inner turmoil, Rosalie kissed her cheek and Isabella tried hard not to notice the way her face morphed into a hard expression of indifference. But there, hiding in a crack in her armour, Isabella sensed the flicker of uncertainty, of emotion she couldn’t decipher for it was too fast and complicated for her to decipher. 

“I’ll go grab some clothes for you to borrow” she whispered and Isabella felt utterly pathetic when she automatically reached out and gripped the woman’s wrist to stop her from leaving. They stared at one another for a long quiet moment, whilst the shower water berated on their naked bodies in a strong stream. Both lost in their own whirring thoughts and endlessly confusing emotions.

Whilst Isabella wanted to know more about the blonde vampire; in her present moment, it all really boiled down to one simple yet endlessly complicated factor:

Isabella Swan did not want to go.

She didn’t want to leave her behind. She didn’t want to treat her as a one night stand, never to be seen or heard from again.

This fucking terrified her. She felt the fear wash over her like a bucket of ice, like she’d plunged herself into the Atlantic Ocean. It felt like drowning, her chest was painful and tight and she couldn’t fucking breathe . It was all so impossible, she couldn’t date someone because she couldn’t give them what she felt they deserved: love. She physically couldn’t, yet, why did she feel so lost? And was this room always so fucking bright and hot? She felt Orion’s gentle prodding and worry and yet she kept their channel closed, it was all just too fucking much .

Rosalie cleared her throat, effectively breaking the pair from their thoughts, for which she was grateful because she had seriously started to dig herself into a deep hole of despair and it was counter productive. She slammed her defences up and swallowed her emotions like they were sour candy.

“I did tear what was left of yours, so it’s the least I could do” Isabella smiled at the attempted joke, though she knew it did not quite reach her eyes, she did appreciate Rosalie attempting to rid the room of the mounting tension; of the tenderness .

“Thanks, I’ll just wash the rest off and meet you outside?” She said tightly, her voice and equilibrium finally returning to her.

“Sure” Rosalie smiled tightly and before she dashed off, she hesitated by the door, her body dripping with water, her mouth opened a fraction, and it filled Isabella’s heart with both dread and hope - what will she say? - but she merely shook her head and left.

When she was finally alone in the bathroom, Isabella sank to the shower floor and hugged her knees to her chest, letting the warm water spill over her hunched body.

“What are you doing?” She whispered to the room her eyes shut tightly and her fingers curled around her legs, given her sudden need to feel tethered to something.

Of course, Isabella had absolutely no clue that Rosalie Hale was on the other side of the door, hugging the promised clothing, while her forehead rested tentatively against the door, as Rosalie asked herself that very same question.

Yet, all water flows eventually to the sea, it was no use standing in its way just to delay the inevitable. And similarly, Isabella Swan did not belong here with this woman. She did not have it in her heart to want it for herself, even if she could give the broken organ in her chest to someone - she wouldn’t choose to. And so, with a Herculean effort, Isabella blinked away the unwelcome sadness from her eyes and decided on her only realistic course of action:

“Time to go O” she whispered with steel in her eyes. She watched in silence as the water scurried down the drain, and listened carefully as it disappeared through a web of hidden pipes; she simultaneously began to mentally lock the complex feelings and memories away in a tightly shut box.

Unnerved that for the first time since she agreed to that dangerous dark spell many years before she’d met the beautiful blonde with the feline smirk, and briefly; she truly wished she hadn’t removed her ability to fall in love…

Chapter Text

Chapter 18:
A song of shared agony

~ Leah ~

(Approximately 10 months after Bella’s disappearance. La Push Reservation, Washington)

Leah Clearwater was livid .

The familiar wretched emotion bubbled inside her like an ingredient in a damn witches cauldron; the dam of control she’d painfully built around her beast over the years since her first transformation cracked . Just an inch; a long crack up a fragile porcelain vase. Leah’s body vibrated with barley held fury. 

Her skin felt like the tips of hundreds of small needles had been dipped into molten fire before they were simultaneously stabbed all over her body. So furious she was, that it manifested into a raging inferno that flooded her body and mind, smashing restlessly against the control she’d worked so hard on like the waves against the cliffs. And the pain of holding herself back, of controlling the beast as the lava flowed through her veins was unbearable.

Leah stood still, her back ramrod straight as she stared blankly at the tall trees surrounding the small reservation she’d grown up in. Her mouth was shut in a thin line, and she bit the side of her cheek so hard the tangy taste of blood coated her tongue. A streak of lightening flashed across the blackened sky followed a few seconds later by a boom of thunder, the residual electricity in the humid air had the tiny hairs on her arms stand up.

But her mind was lost in the years long since past, in the bittersweet memories of her childhood. Of playing tag with the Black twins, and of rubbing a young Jacob’s face in the mud pie he’d just made with Bella. Little Bella, with her pale freckled skin, plump cheeks and crooked grin.

All of the children then were wild, free of responsibility and afraid of absolutely nothing. She remembered how the Rez was filled with the shrill sounds of their carefree laughter and screeching as they played and teased and climbed trees that were too tall and dared to swim in a sea that was too rough. Cold Ones were nothing but a scary story told around their beloved bonfire, and wolves were merely wild animals that lived deep in the mountains.

Her first kiss had been the cause of a dare around that campfire, a quick peck on the lips that was too soon over due to the hysterical giggles that overtook the young girls. That night, they’d laughed until their sides ached and tears escaped the corners of their eyes. Little Jacob had been so mad at her for kissing ‘his Bella’; he’d droned on about it afterwards until she’d shoved him off the log and into the mud whilst she  rolled her eyes in exasperation.

It was the first time the young Leah Clearwater had experienced a boy making her feel bad for going after something she’d wanted; and for something she’d been dared to fucking do too! Whether intended or not, it had been her first taster of the same issue that would creep up many more times in the female shifters life. It always tasted the same; bitter like lemons. 

Even then, she’d lamented to a snivelling Jacob that the pair had argued vehemently that it hadn’t really counted as a proper kiss, so soon was it over and so light was the pressure on their lips. Upon reflection she’d done it to placate him, to spare his precious feelings. She had a lot of learning to do, but systematic misogyny in her Tribe was well engrained; it would take Leah and her friends many years to begin to untangle the behaviours they’d been taught. But this particular memory, like many childhood memories, was forgotten to time, in favour of making new memories - such as falling in love with a boy destined for someone else, and her cousin no less! Yes, Leah Clearwater had a lot of lessons to learn, indeed. 

Leah rolled her eyes at her younger inexperienced and immature self. An ache settled in her heart for the childhood that had been stolen from the kids that currently resided in La Push. A place that had not felt like her own home for a very long time. They’d never have the relatively safe space her friends had had to fall over with the security of trusting they’d be caught; to hold each other when they had their first loves torn from them as they sharply acknowledged that life could be cruel - but at the very least, they had each other.

She’d missed Bella terribly when she went back to her mother, and loved having her each summer. When she’d moved to Forks, it’s been a gift to the Tribe, who’d long thought Bella Swan an extension of their family. Funny how life can give you a trial with pain and hurt and anguish packaged in as a gift, with a bow and everything. 

Their Tribe taught them to protect their family, their Council taught them to protect humans too from the red eyed demons. Though, Leah pondered; perhaps they should’ve been more cautious about the yellow eyed demons too, perhaps even more so. She thought sadly, as that familiar anger added to her already overheated body.

After falling in love with Sam and losing him to her cousin, the anger she felt toward the pair who’d had no choice when it was said and done, had been crippling. It all felt a bit silly to her now, years later, after everything. Hindsight is 20:20 she thought miserably. 

Given that even that youthful anger, the kind that simmered nearly constantly under her skin, a little ebb of heat, did not compare to the boiling rage that flowed through her presently.

Leah stood still as a ghost, staring blankly at the soggy surface of the bark and dirt that clung to her bare feet; she blinked slowly at the tree line that she knew just a mile or so beyond its leaves and roots sat the charred ground where they would use to create their beloved bonfire. They’d not had a bonfire, with s’mores, off key singing, uproarious laughter and teasing since, well, a very long time, Leah swallowed the lump that’s gathered silently in her throat, her jaw clenched painfully. Those fucking leeches had a lot to answer for! Oh and she hated them, with every single fibre of her being. Her hatred burned bright as a nitrogen blue flame. They’d taken her friend from her, made Bella feel inadequate and then didn’t even have the courtesy to help clean up their mess. Fucking monsters. 

Her tattered jeans and vintage band T-shirt were covered in dried dirt and little frayed holes. Her fingernails dug into her palms; her bare feet were filthy and sore as she struggled to control the snarling, near rabid wolf that coexisted within her. The dam was crumbling rapidly, and she wasn’t sure she could stop it as she’d done countless times before. 

“Leah” a gruff voice echoed behind her, Leah stiffened. She didn’t turn around to face the unwanted person. She was too angry, too unstable despite the years of honing her control against the beast that raged inside of her.

“Don’t” she said through gritted teeth, her voice strained, the word obscured by the storm that raged around her. Oh, there was an actual storm too? Figures.

Not even the moon dared to watch the scene unfolding below, instead, it hid behind a mass of angry black clouds, its silver light unable -   or unwilling - to breach the thick fog and f at droplets of rain that poured relentlessly from the skies. The cool water bounced off Leah’s hot skin, then trailed down her head and dripped from the tip of her nose. The cold water and brutal wind felt like a balm against her heated skin, and it was almost pleasant. Almost enough to anchor herself and her beast. Almost .

“ We are searching for a ghost, Leah” she clenched her fists at her side tighter, and felt herself shake in her anger. So much so her bones rattled and her head pounded with the effort to hold her shift. “It’s been months since she disappeared” the words cut her deeper than any blade.

“ She is not dead, Jacob” she said evenly, somehow, as she tried desperately to rebuild the crumbing bricks of the dam that barely caged her beast.

“ Leah, look at me” she did not move. Jacob growled low in his throat, and she grit her teeth, “I said look at me” he repeated, his boyish voice had long since disappeared and morphed into a deep masculine gruff tone. She reluctantly turned and met his burning gaze, furious he’d used his Alpha to force her to do so.

“ She is not dead” Leah repeated ferociously, her eyes ablaze, a reflection of the feral creature that howled and growled at its Alpha.

“She was my best friend too” he said softly, brokenly. Jacob stepped forward slightly. Leah stepped back. The raven haired man sighed defeatedly.

“ She still is ”

“ Come on, we’ve searched everywhere possible, with the human police forces help” he rubbed the back of his neck, unbothered by the rain as it poured over him, “you heard the council, we must accept her fate and let her go”

“ Oh they can go fuck themselves” She growled, “I won’t accept it and as Alpha you shouldn’t either, you could overrule them if you wanted to!” she shook her head in anger. Because Jacob Black had not disagreed, hence her raging fury.

“ That’s not fair Leah” he sighed “We found her blood on that street, and in that cabin, there was so much. Too much” she heard the difficulty Jacob had in speaking these facts, in the strain of his voice and how he’d paled a shade.

It’d been hard for their pack to find that cabin hidden in the woods miles and miles from their home. It begged the question they were all to scared to ask out loud: What had that lunatic done to Bella? None of them knew, and secretly, none of them really wanted to know. It was selfish and pathetic of them truly, but she was their best friend, they’d only gotten closer since the yellow eyed monsters abandoned her. She became their best friend once again, their sister in many regards. Bella had called her ‘little wolf’ mostly because it irritated her to no end so of course she kept doing it. She’d give anything to hear it again. Her throat bobbed and her eyes stung with unshed tears.

“ There was no sign of a body, and her scent lead us to New York, she’d escaped…she could’ve…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. It hurt too much. “She could’ve…” The young alpha shook his head at her weak argument.

“ and it lead us to more of her blood and the smell of her death Leah! .” his eyes were hard, the battle with the red headed vampire and their failures had changed him. It had changed all of them. It was why no bonfires were erected, and laughter was rarely heard. “That was months ago, and there’s been no sign of Bella. Leah, she’d want us to move on, we both know it” his smile was full of pity. It enraged her. “It is not easy for me to stop our search believe me, but I think you know this is the right thing to do. We have to move on, rebuild…”

“ That leech stole everything from me!” She screeched, “my- my brother, Embry! She she killed half the fucking village, and some of Bella’s human friends from school, Mike and who was it? Jessica!” She raged, “why should we let her take Bella too?” Her body vibrated violently “Don’t you want revenge anyway? And if we stop looking then what was it all for, Jake? Protecting Bella to lose all of them, just to lose her anyway?” She’d never said this out loud. Why did they protect Bella, she was one human - and by doing so, they’d lost so much only to lose her in the end anyway. It’d plagued her heart and mind for weeks. Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth and she sank to her knees with a choked sob. The anger fled her body in an instant and in its place, only utter anguish and guilt resided.

“What was it all for, Jake?” She repeated through her heart wrenching sobs, never expecting the man to respond. Because he didn’t know the answers either, she knew this. 

“ You’d do it all again, as would Seth and Em, we all would. Because that’s what we do, and we kept her safe and we kept looking because she was pack” he replied without a hint of hesitation, his hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed. The heat of his skin bled into her body and she shamelessly took strength from him.

“ We failed them all anyway didn’t we… so Bella has to be alive, she has to be, I’d know somehow. Wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t we all?” She sniffed trying to ignore Jacob’s sour and sad expression, it said what she already knew; they would not know. She wasn’t anyone's imprint. Wasn’t a wolf. She was just a girl, a girl who’d unknowingly brought such heartache and destruction to her home. But she’d also brought immeasurable joy and love and kindness. Fuck it hurt. The unfairness of it all! 

“ You loved her” it was a not a question, and she didn’t dare answer. She was too afraid of the answer. Once again she’d been doomed to fall for someone who was so irrevocably unavailable and couldn’t love her back, it was almost reckless. If she did love Bella that way, the way he’d implied. She wasn’t certain. 

“ I’m sorry, Leah. One day, you’ll find your..”

“Don’t finish that sentence Jacob. I don’t want to” what if she found her imprint and they were killed or torn from her? No. She couldn’t bare it. It was apparently a fate worse than death; she didn’t have that kind of strength in her. 

“Leah, it’s not your choice…”

She stood abruptly, and glared at him. She didn’t want an imprint, she didn’t want to love anyone. It was all fucking stupid anyway. She needed to go, her wold paced in her mind, like it was trying to tell her something. 

“ Release me from the pack” she grit out. Jacob stumbled back a step as though she’d stroke him. 

“Are you crazy? You’d be alone, and your my Beta!” he said shaking his head as though she’d slapped him.

“I can’t do this, I can’t live here, I can’t fucking bare it. It’s killing me Jacob, I can’t-“ Jacob’s sad eyes were pools of gold as he fought his own emotions and instincts to comfort his friend and Beta.

“ We are a pack, a family, we will support you, it will get easier in time, I promise” he added, since when had Jacob Black become so wise and grown up? She thought wistfully, proudly. “Seth, Embry, Bella…Leah they’d not want this for you. You belong here with your family” Leah laughed without humour.

“ No, I don’t. I love you all, I do, but I don’t have any family left here Jacob Black. So I can’t be here right now, either release me, or I will give up my wolf and leave anyway, I mean it” Jacob shook his head in anguish .

“Don’t ask me to do this Leah!” He begged, “where will you go? What will you do?” Leah wiped her face with the back of her dirty hand, smearing the dirt and rain on her cheek into her very pores .

“ I don’t know” she answered honestly, “but I need to go” Leah smiled a watery sad thing. “Trust me?” She asked quietly.

“This is truly what you want?” Leah nodded solemnly. Jacob bowed his head and swallowed.

“ Then I release you from my pack, Leah Clearwater” Jacob said, his voice cracked at the edges and she smiled at him, feeling the connection dissolve from her mind. It was so quiet, having only her thoughts and feelings in her mind.

“Thank you” she whispered, and the thunder boomed as if in answer. She glanced up at the blackened sky as she swiftly changed into her wolf. Her clothes were discarded in a tattered pile under her paws. She briefly rubbed her head against her old Alpha, feeling a profound sadness settle in her heart, before she ran towards the tree line and did not look back.

“ I hope you find what you’re looking for, Clearwater” Jacob whispered his voice lost in the storm, “and once you do, I hope you’ll find your way back home” he finished, his heart breaking at losing his beta, his best friend, his words were a prayer that blew away with the wind.

~ 2.5 years later ~

(Somewhere in Banff National Park, Canada)

“Jacob!” Leah cried, her paws pounded on the ground over shattered trees and overturned earth. Uprooted tree roots snaked around her legs as she ran towards her pack-mate that was fighting the redhead leech who’d stolen their best friend.

Leah barrelled into the vampire, her ruby eyes flashed in annoyance, the eerie colour contrasted with her light grey fur, matted with her own dried blood. She huffed as the leech arched over her and landed on her feet with a grin.

“Wretched dog” the vampire sang and Leah growled loudly and attacked again, her sharp teeth barely scraped the vampires shoulder as the creature easily avoided her attack, then immediately danced away from Jacobs snapping jaws.

Leah noticed too late the slight limp from Jacob’s seemingly wounded back leg. Victoria noticed though, and with a delighted sinister grin she zipped past the frozen Beta and arched over the subtly limping Alpha until she gripped Jacob’s wounded leg and twisted .

A sickening crunch rang in Leah’s ears before her senses were overrun by Jacob’s violent howl; the copper wolf sagged to the ground in a heap. His paw bent at an awful angle, snapped in half in several places as well as crushed. She felt his agonising pain through their shared link. They all did. Leah narrowed her eyes defiantly at the smirking redhead.

She hadn’t even raised her paw a second, her back legs barely angled, preparing to spring at the creature when a growling blur flew at Victoria instead. Leah’s eyes were near comically wide.

But the vampire’s smirk was absolutely deadly as she easily caught hold of the smaller wolf by the scruff of his neck and then slammed him down directly on his head with such force and violence that the entire woods stilled. The absolutely brutal crack of a neck snapping immediately on the forceful impact reverberated through Leah. She stared at the unmoving wolf in absolute dismay and shock.

“Naughty puppy” Victoria grinned toothily, displaying her elongated fangs that dripped with clear poisonous venom and before any of the wolves could react, the demon vanished.

Leah made to follow until she heard the screams. Her head twisted around to face a naked Jacob screaming in agony as he painfully slowly crawled closer to the fallen wolf, dragging his useless limb behind him. She thought at first, it must his own pain causing such a reaction. It was a terrible break, they’d have to reset all the bones to make sure they healed correctly, fuck it was a painful process but he’d been hurt worse... But then she noticed his gaze, and the limp body on the ground. Why weren’t they moving? She thought absently. Her head tilted slightly in confusion.

And then she felt it. Or more so, didn’t feel it.

“Seth!” She cried, searching her mind for her younger brothers annoying voice. “No, no, no, no, God, no” She repeated over and over in her mind, absolutely inconsolable. The remaining pack - though Leah didn’t have the wherewithal to notice who’d survived and who hadn’t - gathered slowly around their fallen, choosing to stay as their wolves. They sat or lay forming a semi circle around the still body, whining and shielding their eyes with their giant paws.

Leah changed, uncaring about her blatant nakedness, of the blood crusted around her body. She slowly walked towards Jacob, who’d finally arrived at the side of the broken body that did not move even as he gently poked him, and shouted at him to wake up, to fight it. But Jacob knew, they all did.

“Seth” she croaked. Before she sank to her feet at the sight of her stupidly brave baby brother. She sank to her knees and lightly brushed his shoulder length hair from his his  eyes, his head was at a horrible angle, his spine completely shattered. Bike rose in her throat at the white broken bones sticking at awkward angles.

“He’ll heal, won’t he Jake? Jacob?” Paul’s voice echoed. She saw Jacob’s downcast eyes and the slight shake of his head. Her ears were ringing. The sounds of nature filtered away, and her breathing turned ragged, frantic as her eyes watched . Jacob merely shook his head. Silent tears trailed down her cheeks as she closed her brothers eyelids; the memory of his unseeing eyes shattered her heart. She ignored the frantic voices of both human and wolf as she stared and her heart broke into a million pieces.

Leah’s howl was inhumane, a shattered, broken thing. Followed by a chorus of many more, until they harmonised into a heart-wrenching symphony. A song of shared agony. As the Black Pack acknowledged and came to terms with the death of a friend, a brother, a prideful, playful wolf who was far too good for the world….

*End Dream*

Leah woke in a cold sweat and her stomach hurled. She immediately vomited the contents of her stomach into the trash can she kept at the side of her queen sized bed. Her heart pounded in her chest and her eyes scrunched shut as her nose crinkled at the smell and taste of her bile. She clutched her damp sheets and sagged against the headrest in her self-converted van.

“Fuck me” she muttered as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Leah checked the time on her watch the glowing letters read 04:15.“Just perfect” She groaned.

She stretched her limbs out with a sigh and padded to the double doors before she opened them and ran towards the secluded absolutely freezing but clear lake she’d parked by. She was greatly enjoying exploring Banff National Park, it was possibly the most beautiful place she’d seen in her life. The staggering views and beauty of the nature around her made her wolf more content.

She stripped her body of her damp sleep clothes at the edge of the lake, her feet crunching under the little stones rocks. Leah dove headfirst into the freezing water, her lean body angled perfectly to make the movement elegant and efficient. She dove under the surface and opened her eyes as she swam down, down, down. She loved her enhanced eyesight under water, it was her favourite. She smiled and abruptly pushed herself up to the surface, she took a sharp inhale and sighed contentedly.

She turned to her back and floated aimlessly until her copper skin pruned and the sun began its slow rise in the sky above.

Leah should’ve noticed the figure at the shore, she should’ve paid better attention. But she was rather shit at concentrating when she was so accustomed to the silence of being alone. No voices or emotions in her head but hers. No other sounds but the nature around her. It was decidedly healing. But her distraction of course meant she noticed the figure too late. That’s the thing about life, it has a really fucking cruel sense of humour.

Leah lazily paddled to the shore and shoved an oversized white shirt, her brothers, over her body, it barely covered to her lower thighs but it wasn’t like anyone would see anything. She tugged on some boy shorts just to be safe though. Thank God she did.

The subtle scent of lavender and darkness reached her nose, this should’ve been her first clue really. There was no lavender nearby that she noticed when she had scouted her camp two days prior. Her second clue - and perhaps the most obvious and disarming of them - came in the form of a calloused hand as it clamped lightly on her mouth not two minutes after she’d noticed the unique smell. The hairs on her arms and neck stood and she braced herself for a fight, her wolf prowled in her mind ready to be unleashed.

“Hi, little wolf,” a sweet, husky voice echoed in her ear. “Jake said I’d find you somewhere around here…jeez it took me days, every time I caught your scent it was gone again, you’re like a little ninja spy. A little wolf ninja spy!” the feminine voice she recognised and yet didn’t held the familiar notes of sarcasm and humour she’d once loved, though a nervous edge lay beneath the surface of the playful uncertain words. Her intruder was nervous, and unsettled. Good. 

She finally acknowledged the warm body pressed lightly against her back, her damp hair had grown a lot since she’d left her people two and a half years ago, with the urge to just ‘go’ and ‘look’ too loud for her to ignore after she lost her father, best friend and then later, her beloved brother. She briefly shut her eyes, willing the dampness that’d gathered there to subside.

“How?” She hated how her voice cracked, mostly from misuse and shock.

“It’s a long and miserable story, I’m afraid.”

Leah turned slowly, and her chocolate eyes widened in shock as she was met with the sight of familiar warm eyes, though slightly hazel as opposed to the normal dark chocolate she remembered them as being - a softer face that had tiny crinkles form at the corners of her eyes as she half-smiled.

“Bella?” The woman before her flinched ever so slightly. The same woman who looked like her missing - assumed dead -best friend but also not like her best friend, smiled sadly. And Leah realised with startling clarity that this person before her, familiar though she may be, was a stranger. Leah narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the girl as she stared unapologetically at her. Bella shifted uncomfortably on her feet, not meeting her assessing gaze.

Bella Swan pre-disappearance had rather pretty features and though she was slightly on the thinner side, she was notably beautiful, especially as she matured and found her style and voice when she’d gone to college. Leah had been in awe of the woman for her growth and perseverance despite the heartache she’d suffered at the hands of those leeches and her absentee mother.

Now though? As Leah observed this new version of her friend - the prettiness seemed to exponentially morph her features to near damn stunning levels. Inhumane levels, she thought suspiciously, her hackles rising. 

Though Bella’s eyes seemed harder, they were a striking hazel, with hints of green and brown as though neither colour could decide which would likely dominate. Her brown hair was longer, past her shoulders though in a loose fishtail plait, Leah could see the pretty red and mahogany tones to it. Her lips were plumper with a pinky tinge to them. The angles of her cheekbones were sharper, her jawline could’ve been chiselled. Leah noted with a raised note the subtle evidence of defined muscles beneath the waterproof jacket and skintight black hiking leggings Bella wore.

Her smile was thin and weary. Ye p, Leah surmised, whatever happened to her, this creature before her was not the Bella Swan as she once knew her.

Leah swallowed her rising emotions and stepped back. Bella frowned, but she didn’t comment. 

“You’re not Bella Swan” she mumbled. Bella’s eyes widened slightly and for the briefest millisecond, deep hurt flashed in her browny-green eyes.

“You’re right Little Wolf…I’m not only Bella Swan” Leah recoiled, Bella quickly added “But I am Isabella Marie Swan, daughter of Charlie and Rene Swan, your best friend. I’m also, a little more, well, different” Bella babbled and finally sighed “let me explain…”

Leah, swifter than a Great White attacking a seal on the surface of the sea, punched the brunette square in the nose. A sickening crack sounded and she refused to wince as rage erupted inside her, lighting up every single nerve end.

“Ow! whatthefuck?” Bella bellowed breathily, clutching her broken nose.

“”You asshole, do you have any fucking idea…uggggh” Leah screamed, her wolf snarled in her mind. “Where were you?” She spat, and Bella recoiled. Hurt.

“I’m so sorry Leah… please, please let me explain” Leah growled low in her throat, but she acquiesced with a curt nod, deciding that she wanted answers, that she deserved them. “Stars, that fucking hurt!” Leah watched in muted horror as Bella twisted her nose without so much as a flinch, and her eyes widened as the appendage immediately healed over, not a single mark or bruise. Leah growled, stepping back a step as she sniffed in the woman’s direction. Bella rolled her eyes to the sky.

“I am not a vampire Leah Clearwater, now stop looking at me like I grew another head, it’s rude” this new Bella grumbled. Her tone dark, a subtle warning, Leah’s wolf surprisingly backed off. 

“Whatever -” Leah shrugged before she walked past her intruder.

“What the-“

“Well? Are you coming?” Leah asked incredulously as she paused outside of her van. She didn’t turn to see if Bella followed, her heart beat uncontrollably in her chest as she tried desperately to control the unplanned interruption from a girl she thought was long dead some 2 years prior.

Emotions cycled through her in strong waves; hurt, confusion, despair, happiness, fear, anger, sadness, delight, suspicion…

“Woah there, Little Wolf, breathe ” Leah frowned at the woman who’d snuck up on her silently with narrowed eyes, she could’ve sworn she noticed wisps of black and grey shadows flowing into the creature and bright green eyes flashing at her. What the fuck? She thought. 

They entered her van in silence and Leah leaned awkwardly against her kitchen counter. Bella briefly looked around the small space, her brows kitted together as she took in the decor and craftsmanship before she smirked at the little grey wolf teddy that sat on her bed. A gift from her brother. Leah immediately felt a flash of pain echoe through her heart and she hid it with an eye roll. Except as she met Bella’s gaze, sympathy reflected in her hazel eyes.

“Explain” Leah grit out, growing tired of this nonsense and confusion. It’s gonna be a long day. But she refused to trust the modicum of hope that dared try to latch onto her heart, she’d been burned before. She’d learnt a lot, she wouldn’t fold all her lessons into a piece of paper to be discarded at the first sign of something as fickle as hope. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited, she did not offer a seat to her uninvited guest but Bella leaned against the now closed door before she crossed the small space and sat on the edge of the table she’d made. 

Leah refused to lower the shield she’d carved over her heart. Not this time. She thought defiantly. Yet her heart skipped a beat as Bella smiled that same crooked smile, reminding her of the sweet, mischievous girl she’d thought was long ago lost…maybe…no! Focus Clearwater. 

“I died two and a half years ago, in New York, after escaping and hiding from Victoria.” Bella interrupted the silence, with her blunt statement, her head bowed, “she found me in New York, I tried to run” Bella choked on a humourless laugh, “but she was obviously faster” she played nervously with the silver zipper on her jacket, Leah thought it was both vexing and endearing “Victoria was way more sadistic that you could possibly imagine, Little Wolf, I couldn’t risk her capturing me, I couldn’t- and I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of killing me after everything she did…so I” Bella’s voice had such sadness, such anguish, it broke her heart a little. Leah finally noticed her hands were subtly shaking, and she was across the room and holding her cold hands in her own in one long stride, “I stabbed myself in the chest with a shard of glass”

“I died, or was dying…only I suppose I didn’t…“

A long day indeed, Leah thought worriedly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19:
Do the stars gaze back?   

‘But there are so many places we have not yet seen. So many people still to meet. Not to mention all the wrongs to right, villains to vanquish, sights to see, all that.’ Neil Gaiman, Stardust

~ Leah ~

(Leah’s Converted Van, Somewhere in Banff National Park, Canada)

“Well fuck, that’s- that’s a lot ” Leah mumbled as she ran a shaking hand through her short damp hair. Trying desperately to gather her wits and sort through her emotions after Bella had told her crazy tale. And it was absolutely crazy, bonkers fucking mad.

So far Bella disclosed that she’d been tortured, mentally and physically - though furiously, Bella wouldn’t disclose how exactly, just that she had been no matter how hard Leah pushed. Before she rushed into her batshit attempt at escaping the murderous unhinged vampire, only to breeze over the fact she’d been forced to kill herself , all the while her friends tone was low and nonchalant throughout. Leah’s eyes had bugged practically out of her head as the story progressed, she was desperate to ask questions but Bella merely shook her head. She wasn’t done. Of course not.

Because then, Bella Swan told her childhood best friend all the gory details of her immediate post-death experience.  Namely, some weird, otherworldly… alien thing infiltrated her body and mind, with Bella’s permission and irrevocably changed who she was on a cellular fucking level. This followed by the longest motherfucking nap Leah Clearwater has ever heard anyone taking, and she’s met a Bear-shifter!

It was the weirdest, most unbelievable story she’d ever heard. And she turned into a goddamn massive grey Wolf to defend humanity against creatures of the night for the love of god. Once her friend finally closed her mouth, Leah had opened and closed her own several times, only for not a single sound to pass her lips.

The shifter was stumped. Rendered speechless by her friend believed to be dead. She was overwhelmed as her mind whirred with conflicting thoughts and feelings. Which, if pressed, they all boiled down to a simple and conclusive;

What the actual fuck ?

Bella seemed to recognise Leah’s sudden (completely understandable) stupor. The brunette sat still and remained quiet on the edge of the comfy bed, as she waited patiently for the Quileute Wolf to process the overload of information dumped onto her.

After what felt like hours - and in all honestly, it may very well may have been hours - Leah Clearwater blew out a long, shaky breath and finally faced the shorter brunette. Bella smiled knowingly, her eyes shining with hope .

“You doing ok, Little Wolf?” the brunette asked softly. Leah nodded dumbly and offered a tentative smile in return.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bella asked after another beat, Leah shrugged her assent. “Why did you leave your pack?” Leah straightened uncomfortably, “sorry, I mean, I don’t claim to understand what the whole shifter life is like as a species, but I thought that solo wolves were, well… weaker?” Bella winced at her poor phrasing, her eyes widened like saucers, “not weaker weaker, I meant…” Leah scooted closer and nudged her shoulder gently.

“The pack survives while the lone wolf dies?” Leah quoted mechanically with a small eye roll, Bella grimaced but nodded all the same, an uncertain expression on her face. “I’m not sure if that applies to us per se. I mean, I’m still alive right?” Leah smiled tightly at the disbelief in her friends eyes, but Bella remained quiet, contemplative. Waiting for more. Leah sighed. “I- after you disappeared and then…Seth…” Leah’s eyes briefly closed as she struggled to overcome her overwhelming heartache, still as fresh as the day she held her brothers unmoving body in her arms.

The pain as stifling now as when she’d lit his pyre at his funeral, returning the young man to their ancestors open arms. She could recall the smell of burning smoke, and visualise as the flames licked at her brothers body, as his personalised wooden boat floated out to sea.

He’d earned a full warriors burial, per the traditions and dictations of her Tribe. It still hurt her as though it were happening all over again. She fought the tears as they gathered in her eyes and the quiver that threatened on her bottom lip. Bella shifted closer and slowly placed an arm around Leah’s stiff shoulders, effectively tugging the woman into her body.

“I’m so sorry, Le” Bella whispered sadly, Leah swallowed a sob.

Despite knowing this person was so different to the girl she’d grown up with and had last seen, she leaned into her with startling ease. It’s different but not unpleasantly so, she mused.

Bella’s scent was wilder somehow and the strong lavender notes were new too, her body was definitely stronger, and her once chocolate eyes now a brilliant hazel with flecks of forest green, an unusual colour to be human, and she had raw power hidden beneath the surface of her skin.

Yet, Bella’s warm comforting smile and the way she held Leah like she was the most precious thing in the world, felt exactly the same . Just like how she’d held her when her her parents died, and when Sam broke her heart… and the many other times to count.

And so with this in mind, Leah did something uncharacteristic… the wolf shifter leaned further into the woman, and promptly buried her face into her steady shoulder. Allowing herself to selfishly take comfort in the strong arms that immediately folded protectively around her like castle walls. The friends settled in their somewhat awkward position quietly. Bella absentmindedly rubbed small comforting circles over the Quiliete’s lower back just as Leah Clearwater, shattered .

Leah took some comfort in the strange irregular beating of Bella’s heart as they sat together in comfortable silence. Nothing more than two broken souls leaning against the other, with neither woman certain who was holding who upright; she held onto her friend tightly, successfully crumpling her friends light waterproof jacket as she thanked every god and ancestor she could think of for returning Bella to her.

After an unknown amount of time, Leah pulled back, wiped her sore bloodshot eyes and smiled a watery smile. Bella returned the smile with a light tap on Leah’s back with her fingers.

“Anyway, I guess home stopped feeling like home after that. I felt so angry and trapped ” Leah said after several minutes of silence. “It was overwhelming the need to just go …my wolf was restless, like she wanted to be out there. I still don’t understand why , but I guess gotta trust my instincts and I’ve travelled alone ever since”. Leah shrugged nonchalantly.

She didn’t notice Bella’s worried calculating gaze, but she did feel her friends warm fingers as they brushed her hair behind her ear and the small sigh Bella exhaled when Leah swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I have so many questions…” Leah muttered, and Bella smiled.

“Understandable” Bella commented, “but I’m hungry, and you need to properly dry off…” Leah’s stomach took that moment to grumble, her eyes widened as Bella giggled.

“Shut up” Leah said darkly, Bella grinned toothily, and mimed zipping her mouth shut with an invisible key. “I need to go shopping, but there’s a teeny tiny town somewhere nearby, we can go there if you want?” Leah asked hopefully.

“Sure, wanna walk? We can play twenty questions” Bella asked hopefully “take our time getting back”

“It’s pretty far…” Leah advised, her gaze meeting the recently awoken brunette worriedly.

“I’ve not tested it yet, but I’m told I’d be to  match even your speed, Little Wolf.” Bella wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, a wry grin on her face, Leah glared back in disbelief “Besides neither of us are in a rush…Unless you’re not up to it?” Bella stared at her hopefully her big eyes wide and saucer-like, like a damn puppy. “Oh, also do you have cereal bars or something?” Leah narrowed her eyes.

“Fine but we’re testing that bold statement, Bella Swan, because there’s just no fucking way …” she replied gruffly, cutting herself off. Leah was known as the fastest wolf at the Reservation after all, she doubted Bella could come close to her speed let alone match it or be faster . The suggestion was preposterous.

Buuuuut Leah would be lying if she said she wouldn’t enjoy beating her friend at a race, she grinned internally at the thought, the competitive wolf in her rearing its  head. At worst Bella harms herself tripping over her own feet trying to keep up with her wolf, left in the in the dust miles behind her speedy superior wolf form and at best, Leah proves she is indeed the fastest of the pair.

“You’re on” Leah folded her arms over her chest and smirked as if confidently declaring the childish ‘easy peasy’.

Bella rolled her eyes. “such a child” she chastised, shaking her head playfully. Leah snorted and stood abruptly, the wolf shifter began rifling through her draws, she grunted in triumph as she pulled a box of protein bars.

“I’ve got a spare water bottle around here somewhere…” Leah said.

“It’s cool, all covered there, but I will take a refill if that’s cool?” Bella grinned and nodded towards her discarded backpack.

“Mhm, cool . I’ll just change and then we can pack some stuff and walk there, I guess” Leah didn’t trust that her friend could walk that far, it’d take better part of the day, and maybe even go into the night, and the terrain wouldn’t be all that easy either. Then they’d need to return and it was currently just before noon... “Are you sure? We can totally drive…”

“I’m good, I walked here mostly anyway” Bella winked, the brunette straightened her clothing and smiled - the picture of calm sincerity. 

“From Jake’s ?” Leah’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, Bella blinked at her sheepishly.

“I mean, I said mostly ! I had a lot to start to sort through, and anyway it was safer for…” Bella grit her teeth “Never mind all that, come on, or we’ll lose the light if you insist on taking all day to talk about it!” Bella snapped, before she sighed and met Leah’s curious eyes and slightly perplexed expression. She winced in apology and Leah nodded, she forgot her friend had not long ‘woken up’ from her weird slumber, where she promptly found herself an entirely different person, a different creature altogether. That’d take a lot of adjusting for anybody, she reminded herself that patience was key here.

An attribute Leah Clearwater most definitely lacked, given her usual preference for ‘acting before thinking’. She would try though, for Bella. Besides her self induced alone time had gone a long way in developing aspects of her personality to become more… agreeable. Less ‘prickly’ as Seth would say. 

Or she told herself anyway. However, upon immediate and deeper reflection, she’d mostly avoided people so yeah, maybe not. Probably wishful thinking. Ah well, ya win some… . She sighed internally at her demand for isolation and her overall idiocy in thinking this meant she’d grown as a person since she’d left her pack, when she’d not actually tested this herself given her general avoidance of any form of civilisation for more than a few hours at a time. I guess I’ll find out , she thought with an internal groan.

“Fiiine, but I’m not carrying you when you get tired” she said as she chucked the box of protein box at Bella’s head, the brunette easily avoided the collision and caught it with a defiant wink. Leah stared with her mouth slightly agape for a few seconds. Bella smirked as she twirled the box in her hands.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Grey” Leah’s eyes shone with affection at the old nickname, Greg pertaining from the colour of her fur. Seth had called her it once, and it’d stuck. An aching yet pleasant feeling washed through her. Leah nodded and began her task of getting changed.

“I didn’t think you even liked hiking” she grumbled as she pulled her waterproofs over her head and up her bare legs. Bella turned around respectfully to allow her to change. She tied her hair up into a short ponytail and pulled her bag onto her back.

“Yeah…um, I guess I do now?” It sounded more like a question.

Leah smiled sympathetically at her friends unsure response, after all she had a little understanding of what it felt like to open your eyes and suddenly you were an entirely different creature than when you’d first closed them.

Honestly, she still felt uneasy about her own identity, and much of her travels entailed trying to harmonise with her restless inner wolf. She certainly felt for her friend who was at the very beginning of her self-discovery journey. Maybe they’ll be to figure it out together? Leah smiled internally at the thought. Bella sighed dejectedly. “I’m trying to figure it out, but it’s…”

“ A lot ” they finished simultaneously, smiling at their mutual understanding. Bella sighed and stuffed the bars into her bag, pulling out her thermal water bottle and taking a quick swig.

“You’ll get there, B” Leah replied with a half-smile and awkward pat on the shoulder. “It’s so good to have you back” Leah tried to recover, but it came out jagged, unsure.  

“Partly” Bella whispered and Leah withheld her curious glances and burning questions. For now. She abruptly cleared her throat, prompting the younger woman to meet her eyes.

“Ready?” She queried, her tone softer, as she pulled out her own hiking boots and quickly checked her various pockets.

She filled both water bottles and ensured she packed some water filters, she didn’t really need them, but it was good to have them just in case . See, Leah Clearwater had always been a ‘just in case’ kind of girl, that mentality had only intensified when she added her wolf and former Beta responsibilities to the mix.

She eyed her waterproof tarp, given her preference of just finding a secluded area and shift into her wolf form to camp under the stars as nature intended, far away from human treaded pathways. “Hm, we may have to stay overnight…” she mumbled, side eyeing her friend and the waterproof tarp. She didn’t really need it - but…

“That’s cool, I’m told the stars are amazing around here at night” Leah nodded and inconspicuously shoved the folded tarp into her bag. Just in case.

“You really are different” Leah teased. Bella rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

“Yup” Bella added, over-pronouncing the ‘p’. “Let’s get going Little Wolf, we have a lot of questions and ground to cover” Bella grinned and knocked her shoulder into the taller woman’s, her strange eyes seemed to almost glow with knowing and a hint of apprehension. Neither would voice it; but they were equally nervous about this short trip, about the secrets due to be revealed, and whether the longtime friends had any future as such, in the new life they’d been given. “this’ll be nice, I’ve missed you Grey” Bella whispered softly, her warm eyes filled with hope.

“Ditto, B” she whispered, Leah was never great at expressing her emotions, especially the mushy ones, but she tried. Bella clearly didn’t expect anything more.

With one final check of their equipment, Leah zipped her jacket up, and the former-potentially-renewed best friends tentatively exited the home on wheels. Both with a renewed shared and delicate sense of hope taking hold of their hearts.

“So the… er, being in your head? He’s like a whole ass person huh?” Leah asked as they walked briskly through the wilderness, off the beaten track. The sun beamed down on the pair as they walked casually through the wild wilderness.

“ They ” Bella corrected politely, “their species don’t gender themselves as a rule. They have the ability to evolve into either sex when they need to, for procreation sake I guess, so they don’t have a particular affiliation to either sex, they’re both and neither…it’s complicated and I in no way understand its complexities or intricacies,” Bella added with a small frown on her brow “not yet anyway.” Bella elegantly hopped over a fallen tree trunk and immediately continued forward.

“But to answer your question, yes. They are their own person” Bella kicked at a pebble and it bounced against a tree, “we share a soul and body. Their DNA is my DNA. We are inseparable and they the change is irreversible, to attempt it would kill us both,” Bella said as she hopped over a long tree root, a little grin widened on her face at the dexterity, “but my thoughts and feelings are my own as are theirs. It’s…”

“Weird as fuck” Leah blurted, before the she-Wolf winced. “Sorry”

“No, it’s fine. It’s unusual, for us too” Bella’s eyes sparkled with mirth and something like excitement. “I was gonna say, that it’s a work in progress . I’ve only been awake a few months. Granted our initial merge took 2 years” Bella met Leah’s curious gaze before the brunette added as an after thought, “It hadn’t felt so long, no one was more shocked to see the date than me, that poor trucker thought I’d lost my mind” Bella laughed breathily before she shook her head. The pair were silent for a while longer.

“Can they control your body? Make you do stuff you don’t wanna do?” Leah asked suddenly, her fingers tightened on her bag straps.

“Stars no ” Bella answered her face paler, “they would never do that even if they could” Leah nodded her content, “honestly? I don’t know how it works but the general gist is that I have completely control of our body, which I guess kinda sucks for them…” she trailed off staring at the swaying trees and tracking a little bird with her eyes.

“What about sex?” Leah asked bluntly and Bella was so surprised by the question that she tripped over a tree root rather inelegantly, completely losing where the little bird had disappeared to. Bella corrected herself before she could fall fully but the damage had been done, and her face soon turned beet red. Leah grinned, her white teeth on full display. “Careful B, I told you I’m not carrying your ass” Bella snorted.

“W-what do you mean?” Bella asked, utterly bewildered.

“Well, you said you had control of your body right?” Bella nodded suspiciously as they resumed their pace, “but you both have your own emotions and whatever… so… what if the alien fancies a bit of fun, would you just look the other way or, how does it work?” Bella couldn’t hold back her laughter if she tried, Leah soon joined her friend.

“Tr-trust, fucking stars, y-you” Bella stuttered through her uproarious laughter, “alien?” She laughed harder, the sound bubbling from her mouth in a high pitched cackle, her eyes watered with the effort of keeping it to a reasonable sound. 

“It’s a-a valid question!” Leah wheezed through her own peels of laughter.

“Okay, okay I’m good” Bella tried, her cheeks dusted pink with her laughter infused blush, “to answer your entirely personal question, Grey, my bonded friend wouldn’t feel those… um… urges due to their species . ”

“Okay, so they won’t wanna get laid but what about you ?” Leah questioned and Bella Swan’s cheeks burned.

“It’s not like I have loads of experience anyway,” Bella frowned, “but, I am told I’ll be able to shut the connection down to them when necessary - though I can’t do it yet. It’ll take practice” she shrugged.

“Best wait ‘til then, you don’t wanna traumatise your poor bonded friend with that horrifying experience” and the pair were soon gigging and snickering once more.

“Wait. Oh my God. Will you be able to change your sex? Like your er, friend could?” Bella immediately paused her laughter, a look of horror written on her face.

“I hadn’t thought to ask that… but I don’t think so?” She mumbled, her face puzzled and fearful.

Leah couldn’t help it, she guffawed. Her laughter so loud several birds flew off in fright, glaring at the boisterous pair as they did so. Bella sharp joined her friend, her own peals of laughter melding with Leah’s, and they were laughing once more like children. Leah not so subtly broke a tree leaning on it too hard as she tried to catch her breath. It felt nice. It felt fucking phenomenal to laugh like that, she worried she’d forgotten the feeling.  

“What about you?” Bella asked, after a few minutes of collecting themselves, enough to resume their walking, her eyes still held layers of humour and curiosity.

“There’s been a couple one night stands here and there, but nothing serious” Leah answered noncommittally. She didn’t notice Bella’s concerned frown.

“Le-“

“Can we not?” Leah asked, her tone clipped, Bella sighed in reluctant surrender. Somehow, she knew her friend would not back down so easily with this. Leah sighed internally.

The pair were quiet for a long time thereafter, content with processing their own thoughts amongst the beautiful scenery they walked by.

The last rays of the sun graced them with hues of gold, yellow and brilliant white, they danced and bounced off every available surface. Some brave enough to breach through the tall trees that surrounded the pair. Both supernatural creatures lay in comfortable silence after leaving the little cafe, fuelled on copious amounts of coffee and cake.

The wind whirled around them, a gentle companion, aiding in cooling Leah’s overheated skin and creating a layer of privacy. The moon soon dragged itself slowly up into the sky, its silver light softly illuminating the friends that rested below.

Leah felt something very close to peace in those quiet moments beside her resurrected friend, as they dutifully observed the changing scenery as day made way to night.

The glittering stars above were a staggering sight to behold and Bella was clearly mesmerised by the sight. Leah thought Bella looked beautiful while the soft white light rested on her pale skin and a gentle expression of wonder overtaking her face. She tried desperately to control her ridiculous heart, but it was of little use, because the stupid organ galloped restlessly in her chest all the same. Stupid childhood crush , she admonished.

“You’re staring, Little Wolf” Bella interrupted the silence. Leah immediately looked away and upward towards the millions of stars. Bella laughed quietly “It’s nice to share this with you, I never thought I’d get to see them again like this…” Bella kept her greeny-brown eyes on the dark blue sky.

“They are pretty” Leah conceded, her voice slightly cracking at the implications in the words her friend wouldn’t - or couldn’t - say.

“That’s a bit of an understatement isn’t it?” Bella asked, a wide grin on her face. Leah looked closer, using her full range of her enhanced sight, that picked up the more intricate detail of the little balls of gasses and blinding light. Some tighter clusters created brighter spots in the sky, and the constellations created delicate patterns that she followed with her eyes.

“I suppose you’re right” she added quietly, her compliment picked up by the wind, who floated   the whispered admission directly to the curious stars above.

“My, um, friend… they’re from somewhere far, far away.” Her friend sighed “They’ll never see their home again” Bella whispered sadly, “I wish I could’ve seen it, from the memories they’ve shared, it seemed beautiful” she finished, eyes unmoving from the sky above, as though searching for the distant solar system and planet her friend was from.

“That really sucks”

“It does, huh?”

“How do they feel about being stuck here?” She asked gently. Bella frowned.

“They aren’t great at emotions right now, but from what I can gather…” she screwed her nose up cutely, “they’re sad about it, but also, happy they found this place” she smiled , “found me ” Bella corrected softly. Leah could understand it; the bittersweet feelings that can derive from something terribly sad. She lost Seth, and her Pack and her home and her best friend. But she’d gained independence, a new purpose, and as she gazed at Bella she realised maybe she hadn’t lost her best friend after all. It wasn’t perfect, but she’d have to make do. 

“Do they have a name?” Leah asked curiously, seeing the adoration on Bella’s face for a creature she now realised had saved her life, for which she could be nothing but grateful.

“They don’t remember it” she noted quietly before tracing a particular constellation with her finger. “But you’re right, they deserve a name, and I guess it’s a bit confusing without one” Leah nodded mutely. 

“Orion” Leah offered with a shrug “the constellation you’re tracing?” Bella’s eyes shone a brilliant bright green for a moment, before a wide grin graced her lips.

“Orion? Huh, cool” her grin morphed into a  smirk, “thanks, Grey”

The pair smiled at one another before they resumed their silent gazes toward the dark skies and infinite stars and silver moon above.

All of whom seemingly watched the pair in return, sharing equal excitement and apprehension for whatever adventures that awaited the once lost and newly reunited friends…

Chapter Text

Chapter 20
Too good at goodbye

I'm never gonna let you close to me

Even though you mean the most to me

'Cause every time I open up, it hurts

So, I'm never gonna get too close to you

Even when I mean the most to you

In case you go and leave me in the dirt.

~ Sam Smith

~ Rosalie ~

(Several miles outside Rosalie’s Cabin, Remote Alaska. A few minutes post-text message from Alice)

It was a known fact amongst the supernatural that vampires did not require oxygen that so many creatures on earth relied upon to keep their hearts beating. It was an intricate process, and all of it was to ensure those creatures remained living breathing beings.

Vampires had no need of this process; their respiratory system was defunct immediately after the invading vampire venom stopped their heart. They instead received their nutritional needs from the blood they consumed to effectively maintain their internal venom levels which they ultimately relied upon in much the same way.

The only real similarity, Rosalie proposed, was that both vampires and oxygen reliant species were not given a choice in what was required to sustain their survival. One an abundant element and the other, vampiric venom. One sustained by a nutritional diet of human foods and the other, blood from creatures with red blood cells, humans are preferred to the vast majority most vampires.

The scientific mind that Rosalie possessed was able to separate these simple facts of biology; but the human remittance of her felt disgusted that her body was robbed of this quintessential human experience of being and feeling alive. Of the echo of her heart as it beat and beat and beat with the drum of life, which was all but a memory for the blonde vampire.

For her heart did not beat because she did not require oxygen, her organs were literally useless. Her invasive vampire venom replaced the human respiratory process entirely. She was frozen, forever stuck in an endless loop of simply existing.

Despite all of this, Rosalie still gasped for air as though she was starved of it, she pulled it in and exhaled through her mouth and nose like a possessed dragon. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she perched on a fallen tree - the same tree she’d minutes earlier punched down with a loud snarl.

She pulled in the useless element greedily and in sharp gasps as her eyes filled with gloopy blood that she refused to let fall and soil her face and shirt.  Flashes of Isabella invaded her mind and the useless organ in her chest tightened. She sucked more air in, her breaths ragged and shallow, unable to stop herself from picturing the beautiful girl she’d left sleeping in her bedroom.

Rosalie was no fool, she knew what this was, her blind panic. A tinny voice repeated in her mind, as though it’s owner we’re submerged in water:

‘Be brave’. It taunted, chanted the words like a damned prayer. A wish. A hope. 

“What the fuck does that even mean, Alice!” She bellowed and many birds flew off in terror at the inhumane growl and volume of her voice.

“Be brave?” she puffed, “as if I’m some babe trying to ride her bicycle…asshole!” She growled, her fangs dropped painfully from her gums. She envisaged throwing the meddlesome pixie into active volcano. See how you see into the future after that, Alice! She knew the pixie would see her decision, and it brought her a twisted sense of joy.

“Why must she always be so cryptic?” She seethed, slamming her fist into the poor tree, the bark groaned and splintered immediately from her strength.

“I told her hundreds of times to stop looking into my future. But does she ever listen?” She roared, kicking the ground and creating a muddy shallow hole beneath her booted foot, “of course not, because Alice fucking Cullen cannot resist the urge to stick her nose where it does not belong” she laughed without humour, her nostrils flaring as she raked her hands through her blonde hair.

Questions whirred in her frantic mind, her heart still clenching, with each question she swore she felt a fantom beat, forcing her to remember her times as a human with anxiety so severe she was unable to speak or breathe for hours.

Had her sister seen her encounter with Isabella? Beat.

Who was Isabella to her, if Alice was sending her a message knowing her meddling would infuriate her and risk damaging their already fragile relationship? Beat.

And more importantly, what is that damn oracle not telling her? Beat

There were so many unanswered questions and she knew Alice would remain aloof, the text message likely being the only advice her so called sister would deign to provide her on the matter.

Pretty brownish-green eyes and a confident grin flashed in her mind. Her chest immediately ached.

She was scared of herself, of her confusing feelings about the woman that slept in her bed. She sucked in more air, her hands clawing at her arms, enough to hear the tough skin crack.

Rosalie was absolutely terrified of the impatient vampire that lurked just beneath her diamond skin, it rattled against the carefully crafted bars of its cage. It was eager, primal, insistent. Because it wanted Isabella, it wanted her on a visceral level.

But Rosalie Hale didn’t want her; she was a stranger, a beautiful, mysterious stranger. A human. She couldn’t have her. She couldn’t. She told herself, told the manic creature within that was both her and not. She finally slowed her breathing, forcing her panic back into its box, and stubbornly refusing to choke on it.

”This is so ridiculous!” She whispered. 

She would go hunt and then she would drive the girl into town and never, ever see her again. She’d had lovers before, and the goodbye was necessary each time, it was perhaps even more vital now. With the way her heart hurt and stabbed with pain at the very thought of doing so to this girl. To Isabella.  

‘Be brave, Rosie’ that same voice whispered in the back of her mind.

“But I’m not, not like that” She muttered through a broken sob.

She was brave in so many other ways…she’d left her coven after her breakdown, she didn’t throw herself in front of the Volturi  to end her miserable, lonely existence, an existence she did not ask for nor want.

She tried everyday to forgive her Maker, Carlisle, and those filthy creatures who’d defiled her and left her for dead. Both had taken away her choices. The latter for the sake of pleasure, greed, entitlement and rottenness. The former, for the sake of another’s potential happiness - for selfish, misogynistic reasons. She growled, but it was more like a pathetic whine.

She’d built her business independently, only borrowing money from the Cullen Coven before paying it all back after her first year of business, with interest.

She took lovers - dexterous fingers ghosted over her skin as she found her release and she moaned Isabella . Rosalie swallowed. She was trying. It might not be perfect; she was not perfect, as much as the humans and other supernaturals she met liked to think of her. She saw the looks, heard the whispers, smelt their desire - but they didn’t want her. And she’d never, ever admit it aloud, but it hurt that people just saw what they wanted to see. The ice queen. The bitch. The hot blonde girl with nice boobs and a nicer ass. She may be beautiful, but inside? Rosalie was far from it. But she was trying . That must count for something, mustn’t it? She wasn’t talking about going into war, those men and women had endless bravery for heavens sake. Her nose scrunched up in contemplation: what was she talking about then? Why was her anxiety crippling? Why did the thought of saying goodbye hurt her insides like someone had pushed a knife inside her stomach and twisted . Her panic rose at the terrifying questions, at her fear. 

Rosalie knew that she was not ready for whatever Isabella was, or could be. She simply wasn’t. Her hands fisted at her side.

“Damn it, I want to be” she admitted softly. The cold night wind snatched the quiet admission, and whisked it away on its back…the torn vampire and Mother Nature were to share one more secret.

Rosalie flipped the fluffy pancakes over as she glared daggers at the instructions on her tablet, she was promptly ignoring the dozen or so previous attempts at making the popular breakfast food. Why must human food be so vexing to cook? She very nearly set the cabin alight with her second batch. She winced at the memory and smell of burning food and fire, it would take weeks for that stench to lessen in her home.

She plated the pancakes up and drizzled some maple syrup over them, placing burnt bits of bacon strategically about the plate. The recipe said the ratio of bacon to pancake was key to the overall taste. She eyed her creation, oddly satisfied at the sight. She smirked at herself. Rosalie Hale refused to be beaten by something as mundane as cooking bacon and pancakes for her… guest .

“Mmm something smells amazing” a husky voice echoed her. Rosalie’s smile widened before she plucked the plate up and placed it at the island table.

“Pancakes, I hope you like them…” she wiped her fingers on the ghastly Holiday themed shocking pink drag queen apron her friends sent her for Christmas. ‘Sleigh Queen’ was scrawled in light pink cursive writing on the front with a drag queen sitting suggestively atop a Santa sleigh. “Shit, I didn’t think to check if you were vegetarian” she said her golden eyes wide and horrified.

Isabella’s husky laugh punctured the silence around the otherwise quiet room. Rosalie fiddled with the apron strings and sighed inwardly. Isabella swiftly stretched her hand out and snatched a piece of crispy bacon before plopping it into her mouth and chomping down exaggeratedly.

“You’re cute, Princess” the brunette grinned playfully and Rosalie scoffed, though her stomach churned pleasantly at the endearing compliment. Rosalie Hale was described as many things. Mean, a bitch, cruel, icy, heartless among many others but genuinely cute? Never. If she were human, she’d be blushing like a teenager. 

Rosalie finally noticed her guest in all her freshly showered, borrowed clothing glory. Her grey sweater bottoms were slightly longer on her and had been turned up at the ends rather adorably. Her faded vintage grey band T-shirt she’d got at an early Queen concert in the 80s clung to Isabella’s lean, muscled upper body.

Her defined biceps were taut under the slightly fraying sleeves of the shirt and her lower abs were slightly visible from the way the shirt had ridden up. Rosalie had longer legs, but Isabella’s torso was longer and her muscles were more defined, not in a bulging or overly masculine fashion, but certainly Rosalie noticed them. Rosalie licked her lips. Isabella’s intoxicating scent suddenly reached her and she almost ripped the front cotton pocket off her apron.

She faintly scented her own shampoo and conditioner, her vanilla body soap and her clothes were drenched in her scent. She didn’t give them to her on purpose so the brunette would be even more saturated in her scent, but damn, she was sinfully glad she had…Rosalie shamefully inhaled a long breath directly into her nose, her mouth filled with venom.

“You look good yourself, Princess” Isabella eyed Rosalie with both humour and hunger Rosalie rolled her eyes, momentarily mortified at her open gawking.

“Thanks for breakfast, and the shower and the um, clothes…” Isabella tugged the shirt down, twirling the toggle on her sweaters.

“You’re welcome, and thank you for-“

“The amazing sex?” Isabella wiggled her eyebrows and Rosalie scoffed.

“Don’t flatter yourself” Rose rolled her eyes, “but you’re certainly top 5”, her face remained neutral and impassive, teasing without being too obvious . Isabella’s eyes flashed with something deliciously dangerous before the brunette exhaled softly and took her seat. Rosalie willed her arousal to calm the fuck down, or she’d end up begging for another release from Isabella’s sinful lips and that wonderfully warm tongue.. . 

The fleeting expression was burned into Rosalie’s memory, because it looked a lot like undiluted jealousy. An ugly emotion that she traditionally abhorred, but on Isabella? With her green eyes hard, her mouth set in a tight line and her body stiff - it was sexy as fuck and she felt conflicted about her own reaction to the tiny outburst. She was a grown up woman of over 100 years old, yet… that look. 

“Liar” Isabella mumbled around her first full bite of the food, her guest immediately moaned around the fork, the sugary syrup coated her lips and Rosalie unconsciously leaned forward, desperate to kiss and lick it away. She stopped herself by awkwardly wiping the tabletop.

“I love your place” Isabella motioned around after she’d almost finished her meal. Rosalie smiled warmly.

“Thank you, I do too”. She’d built it by hand herself, even learning how to do the plumbing and electrics, she’d stayed with her cousins while the work was being done, the distance wasn’t so far that she couldn’t run back and forth.

“I’d love to live like this, totally off grid. Hide away from it all” Isabella admitted wistfully. She stabbed the final piece of fluffy pancake and popped it in her mouth. What did she need to hide from? Was she in trouble? No, somehow, Rosalie knew this was not the case. What then? She puzzled.

“Why couldn’t you?” Rosalie asked carefully, “live somewhere like this I mean?” Live here! Her vampire seemed to shout at her, she rolled her eyes internally. Isabella glanced at the door, “sorry, that was too personal…”

“It’s okay, Rose” she smiled, and her traitorous heart tightened, “I teach part time at a university and I also travel a lot for work” she shrugged. “I like it don’t worry, just sometimes…” Rosalie pondered this, enjoying the small reveal of something real about the mysterious girl who’d brought her orgasm after orgasm just the night prior.

“it's lonely” Rosalie offered quietly, and Isabella stiffened before she shrugged nonchalantly, choosing not to comment on the matter.

“Being an adult with responsibilities is a real downer” Isabella complained half heartedly. Rosalie laughed breathily and fixed her eyes on Isabella’s empty plate.

They settled into an uncomfortable silence as the birds chirped outside her windows and the world continued its spinning. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, though mostly Rosalie wanted to ask her to stay a while longer. But fear had long ago sank its teeth into Rosalie and so she stood there, as frozen as her vampire body.

“When do you…” “are you ready to…” they said simultaneously.

“Sorry” Isabella mumbled, “you go ahead”

“No, please, you first” Rosalie bit her lower lip.

“I was gonna ask if you were ready to head into town… I should probably be heading off soon” it took everything in Rosalie to school the hurt from her face, and to mask the bitter disappointment.

“Oh, right, of course, I have work soon so we can head off now, I can change there” She would swear Isabella’s orbs held sadness and trepidation in them, before she nodded slowly.

“Right” Isabella reached over the counter and rested her hand over Rosalie’s. Electricity jolted through her, and she had to trap a pathetic whine in her throat. What is this girl doing to me? she thought miserably. When she eyed the girl, her downcast eyes and digesting fingers, she could see she may not be the only person struggling with their emotions.

This person was a stranger, she had a whole life to return to, who was Rosalie to ask her to stay? Even if everything inside her screamed at her to just do it.

“Thank you for your kindness and hospitality, Rosalie” Isabella lightly squeezed over her hand before Rosalie nodded mutely and took the plate to the sink. She smiled and nodded, removing her hand from the woman’s warm grasp. Rosalie mechanically removed her apron and swallowed the venom that’d pooled in her mouth, silently willing her fangs to just stay hidden a while longer. Then, she could sink her teeth into some poor animal before she started her work day.

“Ready?” She asked, her voice hard and unfeeling.

“Almost” Isabella whispered and Rosalie gasped as the brunette suddenly gripped her front by her shirt and placed a light chaste kiss to her mouth. A moan escaped her mouth at the wonderful sensation and her human pressed her lips harder, tugging herself against Rosalie’s taut front.

After a minute or so, Isabella pulled away almost as fast as she’d started the kiss, Rosalie hating the lost feeling of the girl pressed against her. She cleared her throat and nodded cooly. She would need to guard herself, as she had always done since the moment she woke up from the worst night of her life.

“Ready” Isabella said, a soft smile on her freshly clean face. She had multiple tiny freckles over her nose and Rosalie was momentarily mesmerised, Isabella shifted uncomfortably.

Rosalie grabbed her car keys and lead her guest to the door, all the while the vampire locked inside raged at her from within. They sat in silence on the way into the tiny town, both lost to their own thoughts and emotions. Rosalie was notably quite numb. It was a kindness to let Isabella return to her world , she told herself, and you just met her, you’re not gonna be that girl , this is for the best . She admonished.

Rosalie grit her teeth as a wave of sadness and wrongness swept over her as she expertly parked her vehicle. The women looked over at one another, both with an uncertain smile on their face, both with warring emotions at having to say the inevitable goodbye.

“Thanks for the ride, Princess” Isabella said finally.

“Anytime, beautiful” she whispered. Isabella kissed her cheek gently and Rosalie’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of her lips touching her skin.

“Look after yourself, Rose” Isabella said against her ear before she swiftly opened the car door and left without turning back. And the action stabbed her heart.

Rosalie rested her head against the cool wheel and breathed in the useless air deeply.

“Fuck” she mumbled. She narrowed her eyes at the empty parking lot and opened her door. 

“Let’s be brave, Rosalie” she sighed, eyes hard and resolved as she locked her car door and headed towards her garage with a new found determination in her long strides. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 21:
Ignorance is Bliss

~ Isabella ~

Isabella sighed at her poor broken bike as it lay helplessly to the side of the road in a heap of metal and broken parts, exactly where she’d left it. The area and roads being so remote that not a soul had disturbed the machine.

Isabella knelt beside it and heaved it up, loud screeching noises met her ears as the bike protested its forced movement in the state it was in. She noticed immediately that the front wheel was bent at an awkward angle, and several broken parts of various sizes and importance were laid about the old tarmac.

She circled the machine with a calculated eye, cataloguing what needed relaxing and what could be mended. The list was… not great. Not for her bike and the rush she was in, nor her bank account. All the while her heart raced uncontrollably in her chest as she tried desperately not to think about Rosalie and their time together. Isabella rubbed her sweaty palms against the soft pocket of the sweatpants she wore. Rosalie’s sweatpants. Fuck .

“What a mess” she muttered. The jingling in her head echoed her sentiment, though she suspected Orion’s ‘the mess’ was not isolated to the broken bike before her… Isabella feigned ignorance.

“Okay. I get it, I should’ve just had it repaired and left” Orion seemed to quiet in her mind as they sorted through their myriad of emotions, which put Isabella into a state of suspicion. “What?” She groused as she felt a sudden surge of incredulity and heaved a drawn out sigh through her nose. Time to address the elephant, she thought.

“O, it was just a casual one time thing, you usually don’t mind…” she finished, her cheeks grew warmer. Yet, her hand tightened painfully into a fist at her side.

Her knuckles bleached white as Rosalie’s scent suddenly met her nose from a wave of wind, she scrunched her nose comically and her heart stuttered. How fucking dumb.

Isabella’s skin became itchy beneath the borrowed clothing, despite the soft, good quality fabric. She rubbed at her exposed neck, remembering the ghost of the blonde vampires soft lips as they kissed her there. She shook her head, and dampened Orion’s curiosity that echoed in her mind. “Whatever, let’s just…never mind” she said through gritted teeth. She faced her bike forcefully.

“I can carry her to the town, stop a mile or so away to wheel her in. Shouldn’t be too suspicious.” She mused as she circled the broken bike a final time, “we’ll get her all fixed up and then off we go. No more tiny town, and no more vampire inhabitants” she concluded with a forced enthusiastic grin.

Orion didn’t seem either amused or enthused, if the unsettling feeling that washed over her was any indication. Isabella sighed, knowing her next training dreamscape would involve Orion berating her in some way.

Her friend usually preferred to stay far away from her personal life (and any subsequent choices relating to it) but despite this unspoken rule, she felt that Orion was forming an opinion ready to unleash it onto her later. She knew this because of the added sour taste of frustration and disappointment in the pit of her stomach and they were certainly not her own doing. Or she was confident they weren’t, anyway. Mostly. Definitely mostly.

What unnerved her most was the fact that Orion felt the need to speak to her at all about her most recent behaviour, when they’d never done so before. 

“Ugggg, come on we’ve gotta get back, get a new cell and coffee, lots and lots of coffee” she rubbed at her her tired eyes and tried to ignore the subtle pounding that began in her head. Her stomach churned as she recalled why she was tired and she swallowed uncomfortably as heat pooled at her centre… “stars only knows what carnage our brief absence has caused” she mumbled as she heaved her broken bike up, and gathered what could be salvaged best she could, as the unease churned in her stomach.

It had absolutely nothing to do with her inability to push a certain pretty blonde, with stunning gold eyes and a wicked feline smirk, from her memory. Her hold tightened almost painfully around her bike as she ran along the silent disused road.

Nothing to do with that at all …

“Fuck, twenty-nine missed calls!” she groaned as she slumped against the back of the wooden chair in the towns single cafe. “ Seventeen from Aro” Isabella scoffed, “two from Marcus, shit, and one from Tanya! Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!” She put her head in her hands as the sounds of the incessant pinging of the notification from her emails and text messages echoed in her ears, curiosity finally wore out and she peeked at the notifications bar “…the rest of the calls are from Leah and Stars, it’s summer, why are my students being so needy already?” She groaned into her hands after skim reading some of the messages.

Orion’s support echoed in her mind and she smiled tiredly, before she began the onerous task of responding to the numerous (almost begging) emails and messages from her students and clients.

“A couple of days, O! Stars they’re behaving like I’ve been missing for weeks!” She sighed through her nose and lightly trailed a finger around the the rim of the half empty coffee mug. She stared at her new cell for sever moments before she finally clicked ‘call’ and simultaneously inhaled the comforting acidic scent of the warm black liquid, which immediately burned her nostrils, momentarily replacing the scent of the blonde vampire that she’d been saturated in. She oddly did not appreciate the replacement. 

Ring.

Ring.

Ri…

“Isabella?”

“Aro” she greeted warily, “I-“

“Forgive me dear Isabella, but when you admonished me for not having the ‘cellular telefono’ [telephone] and then promised once I procured said device, you would be more readily contactable, I thought to myself…meraviglioso, risponderà sempre! [wonderful, she will answer always] ma no, non lo fai [but no, you do not], and so I think to myself - è morta o ferita! [she must be dead!] che peccato [what a pity], now what will I tell my dear wife and Marcus?”

“Aro - it’s been less than twenty four hours and as you can hear, I am not dead…so can we we dial the dramatics down a smidge, please?” She pleaded and Aro simply clicked his tongue in frustration.

“You’re not dead, yet, but you can still die Isabella, sì [yes]?” Aro said darkly before the old vampire sighed dramatically, “metti alla prova la mia pazienza! [you test my patience!]. Explain? Why did you go to the dark?”

“ Go dark - not to … never mind.” She set her jaw and closed her eyes briefly, she silently wished she’d stayed in Rosalie’s arms and in her warm bed, in her secluded cabin, so they could do more despicably delicious things to one another - Aro cleared his throat pointedly.

“Have I lost you? Jane! Jane the phone is -“ Aro screeched.

“Aro, Aro, please!” Isabella growled under her breath “I’m close to the town you sent me to, I had a minor delay” she paused, waiting for the vampire to interrupt, however only blissful silence surrounded her, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, “I had a small incident on my bike so I stayed at an inn in a nearby town, that’s all” she lied, she did not need to fill in the blanks for the nosy King.

“I see” despite the suspicion in the old King’s tone, she didn’t miss the element of relief too.

Aro was a grumpy, old and peculiar vampire, a maniac truly but… for some bizarre reason, he seemed to have grown fond of Isabella.

Isabella was under no illusion that it had absolutely everything to do with the fact that he burned curious about her more than anything; if she remained human the ancient would’ve killed her for the fun of it, or because he simply could. Indeed, Aro Volturi was a monster, and he was insatiably thirsty for knowledge. It’s funny what powerful creatures deem ‘valuable’ , Isabella pondered.

How fucking batshit crazy is our life, O? Jingling laughter filled her mind and it made her feel lighter, she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying the lightheartedness of their shared humour, despite knowing her friend had been - and remained - somewhat unsettled.

“I’ve bought some parts for my bike and I found a mechanic in the town-“

“Where are you?” Aro interrupted, irritated. Isabella counted to five in her head. One. Don’t argue with him. Two. Don’t argue with him. Three. He doesn’t own me! Four. He’s being rude and insufferable! Five. Do. Not. Argue. With. Him.

She informed him her location on a very long exhale; arguing with the stubborn creature was generally fruitless and normally served as an amusement to the king, which riled him further. Isabella did not have the mental energy reserves for that without at least two additional coffees in her system, “magnifico [magnificent] I have a professional nearby, you will go there and then you will return to our business,” Isabella made to argue, not to mention correct his ‘our’ statement but she bit the inside of cheek to stay her complaint, “Isabella… the situation is ah… complicato [ complicated] .” It was as close to saying ‘please’ as Aro Volturi would dare venture. ‘ Choose your battles carefully, Young One’ she repeated tiredly, Orion’s approval greeted her. 

“This bike is one of a kind Aro, it’s very important to me-“

“I understand, they are the best I can assure you” he reassured her in that irritating sing-song patronising tone he used. It could be translated simply as: ‘I am an ancient being Isabella, do not think to question my recommendations’  “…I cross my chest, I will send you the address momentarily…Jane, the address for….” Cross my heart , she corrected exasperatedly. The King’s voice soon filtered off before he simply hung up on her altogether.

“Asshole” she cursed under her breath. The waitress filled her cup silently with a gentle grimace, Isabella simply shrugged.

As she sipped mindlessly at the cold, bitter coffee in the tiny towns only coffee shop, a strange and eerie sense of foreboding washed through her.

“Curious” she mumbled.

Isabella pulled what remained of her bike into the entranceway of the garage, true to his word, Aro had emailed her the address of the local mechanic he assured could help her. She stood before said location not an hour later, arms folded and a suspicious brow raised.

She observed silently as a surprising number of humans mulled around the area, lost in the mundanity of their lives, and others in the distant dreams of what could be as they faced their daily reality.

The garage was large, she noted firstly, which was unexpected given the size of the town, also, Aro recommended the place, which likely meant vampires owned it. Hence her caution.

The building was old, at least the original structure, it had a strong concrete skeleton that made Isabella believe it could’ve been used as some sort of industrial building back when it had been originally constructed. An additional modern extension had been built directly attached to its side, creating its impressive size. Isabella estimated a dozen or so vehicles could fit easily within the space, not to mention the potential for the outside.

Isabella surmised this place had probably a much smaller population than Forks, and so the garage, in its refurbished and grand finery stuck out, despite it being situated in the far edges of town.

It screamed wealth but not enough to warrant great suspicion from the local mortals - though, certainly enough for astute supernaturals to notice.

A dog marked what was his with piss. This. In all its grandeur was a similar way for the supernatural to mark their presence to others of their kind, and stake claim to an area.

Isabella was well aware of the many methods creatures had to mark what they viewed as theirs, this was one of many. She subtly scented the area but the overwhelming scent of Rosalie remained in her borrowed clothes and deep in her skin. She sighed, and readied herself.

“Dear me, what ever happened to that poor bike?” A gentle voice interrupted her musings, she turned her head and smiled at the sight of a mortal man. Likely in his late 60s, salt and pepper hair around the side and balding on the top of his head. He wore pale blue overalls that were a size too large, and a tool belt hung loosely at his hip. His stomach was round and slightly large, his face was warm, the tanned skin wrinkled around his pale hazel eyes. His wonky smile wide and welcoming.

“An accident” Isabella said noncommittally, as she smiled crookedly at him in return.

“Desmond, but folks call me Dee” he smiled kindly as they shook hands briefly. His emotions were reflective of his openness, though he projected an underlying sense of pride that Isabella thought curious.

“Isabella,” the human nodded politely. Dee circled her bike, muttering and tutting at the damage. “You come highly recommended…” she tried, “I picked up some of the parts it needs, but she’s rare and valuable and…”

“A vintage? Hmm” he nodded, rubbing at the grey stubble on his chin, “she’s a beauty, must’ve cost ya a fortune” it was worded as a statement of fact, not a question. Isabella shrugged awkwardly.

“Not really, I got it when it was in pretty bad shape, worse than this if you an believe…”

She laughed quietly “I rebuilt most of it myself,” Dew’s brow shot up and she smiled cheekily “well, with the help of my friend Jake and my- uhm, my dad” she didn’t allow her voice to crack, but she felt the emotion well painfully in her throat. Dee smiled and didn’t pry further, he knew when to simply remain quiet and listen, watch. Isabella silently thanked the man.

“Well, it’s impressive” he rubbed at the silver handle and squinted at the battered writing where the logo had been slightly scratched off.

“Thanks.” She muttered, “I have to leave soon on business. I was just passing through town, but I don’t want to leave without making sure my bike is safe” Dee nodded understandingly.

“She’s well loved, I can see it” Dee answered. “We can help you, well, my boss can. Damn near no machine that woman can’t fix” he laughed breathily. “She does the restorin’ ’ and handling of older vehicles.” He answered without prompting, the pride shone in his eyes and Isabella wondered who this woman was that had earned this man’s respect so thoroughly.

“Is your boss - is she around?” Isabella questioned, trying to arch her neck over the taller man’s shoulder nervously. Her stomach decided to flip flop for some bizarre reason.

“Mhm, she’s a workaholic,” Dee tutted playfully, “wait here” and Dee soon disappeared into a little side door she’d missed.

“Well, this is a surprise.” A saccharine voice whispered as they walked towards a dumbfounded Isabella, Dee muttered something about her bike to the new comer as the pair approached.

“This is Isabella,” Dee introduced with a small smile “and her poor bike” he gestured to the broken machine Isabella stood protectively beside.

“Hello, I’m the owner of the garage,” said owner smiled, “Rosalie Hale” the pretty blonde offered with a subtle nod, humour and surprise swirling in her wide golden eyes.

Isabella was embarrassed that she’d not figured it out, of course Rosalie owned this place. She loved not too far away. She’s met her in the fucking town. She felt suddenly mortified. 

Yet, Isabella’s heart practically burst with excitement and terror. “I’m sure I can help” Isabella merely stared and blinked slowly. She shamelessly drank in the woman before her, as though she were the last drop of water in the desert.

The blonde had changed into pale blue overalls, matching her colleague, though hers seemed almost sculpted to fit her feminine body perfectly. White script scrawled in cursive across her breast ‘Rosalie’ and beneath a company logo and name ‘Hale Garages’. Isabella stared for too long at the damn logo before she forced her eyes to take in the rest of the mechanic.

Oil and dirt decorated the front of her outfit, and a smidge of black stuff clung to her cheek, as though the blonde had swiped at it with the back of a hand. Her blonde hair was tied carelessly in a messy bun atop her head, and her face was devoid of makeup, except for her lipstick. Red. The vampire smirked, pulling Isabella’s attention to her lips. Lips she’d kissed and that’d tasted…

She swallowed uncomfortably. This was not the plan. This is not cool. This is a disaster!

Rosalie met Isabella’s panicked and lust-filled eyes, a knowing smile graced her painted red lips.

“Uhm, hi, nice to meet you” Isabella managed.

“You have a beautiful…” Rosalie’s eyes trailed over Isabella’s form shamelessly, “bike” she finished, with a little head tilt.

“Thanks…wait…you own this place?” Rosalie nodded nonchalantly.

“I do, and several others here and there” Dee hid his knowing smile with a gentle cough, he knew when he was not needed.

“I’ll leave you to it Miss Hale, I gotta fix up that damn truck of Travis’ again” Dee politely excused himself muttering about fools that shouldn’t be drivin’.

“Hi” Isabella whispered. Rosalie stepped closer and tucked a loose strange of her blonde hair behind her ear. “We meet again” Isabella said uncertainly, and immediately wanted to whack herself over the head with a titanium bar.

“So it seems” Rosalie Hale grinned, exposing her brilliant white teeth…

Isabella was too shocked and confused to delve into Rosalie’s equally surprised and warring emotions. Though the blonde herself didn’t fully understand or grasp her feelings, much less acknowledge them.

No, Isabella was too scared, too afraid  land too distracted to get a clear read on Rosalie’s emotions as the blonde simultaneously observed the brunette in both parts wonder and hunger.

Though Isabella would later be very glad she hadn’t explored the mechanics emotions in that moment, because had she discovered how Rosalie truly felt as she drank in Isabella’s form with eyes that were practically starved for her.

Perhaps she’d never experience all that what was to come…

Chapter Text

Chapter 22:

This is me trying

‘They told me all of my cages were mental

So I got wasted like all my potential

And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad

I have a lot of regrets about that

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here

Pouring out my heart to a stranger

But I didn't pour the whiskey’ ~ Taylor Swift

---

~ Rosalie ~

Rosalie leaned against her chair in the small office. The sparse room was equipped with a desk, a large monitor and laptop and a long comfy grey couch sat along the back wall by the door. With the latest office technology, she was able to manage the business digitally – the best and worst technological advancements concerning vampires. Though it depended on who was asked. As a person with a scientific mind, Rosalie recognised that the technology afforded vampires more anonymity, meaning they could conduct business from afar if they wished. Comparatively, and arguably more damagingly, the lack of privacy that increased CCTV and social media caused made even the most modern vampire cautious, particularly with how they fed.

Her prospective client (and recent bed mate) surveyed the area with her damnable sexy curious brown eyes, her expression morphing microscopically as they roamed Rosalie’s work space. The woman’s eyes widened subtly after noticing the framed mechanic awards and two of her own PhD’s (Mechanical Engineering and Automotive Engineering respectively) displayed on the wall by the door.

Isabella seemed to barely contain in her excitement at the various photographs of rare motorbikes and vehicles taken of Rosalie’s personal collection. Immortality was boring and long, hobbies broke up the norm - she’d taken to photography for a brief time in the late 00s. She held her breath when Isabella lightly stroked a finger along the edge of a pure silver model she’d collected and restored of a P-51 Fighter Plane. “Cool” Isabella whispered. Rosalie swooned. She definitely would not acknowledge such ridiulous behaviour – but, she was trying to ‘be brave’, or whatever.

Fucking, Alice. She thought.

“Nice office” Isabella commented, as she approached the velvet chair directly opposite her large desk. “You have a pilots licence?” Isabella nodded towards the model of the jet, Rosalie smirked noncommittally. Her inner vampire practically preened as Isabella blew an impressed whistle as her fingers glided through her hair almost nervously; the sudden movement immediately filled her senses with Rosalie’s own scent. “A pilot and a woman in STEM? Hot” Isabella winked, her mouth curving upward in a wicked smirk as Rosalie rolled her eyes, though her un-beating heart flickered unnumbered in her chest.

“How can I help, Isabella?” Rosalie asked with a blonde brow raised. Though her nature screamed at her to do the opposite, Rosalie leaned towards the brunette – it was as close to ‘being brave’ as she was willing to get, given she remained in a state of shock that the woman seemed to land so easily on her doorstep without so much as a need for a Facebook stalk. Though, she ensured her face remained impassive, stoic as ever – unbothered. Isabella flashed her an uncertain smile and sank into the chair with an air of confidence. Rosalie’s brow rose to her hairline.

“You saw my bike” the brunette responded, Rosalie nodded, momentarily despaired that Isabella was determined to treat her as a common stranger. That’s because you are strangers, an unhelpful voice echoed in her mind. “I have to head to a town nearby for uh, business. I know it won’t be an easy fix,” she sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck, “but my client really needs me, like yesterday so I can’t really wait around or delay” she said, her eyes almost pleading.

“That bear really delayed you” Rosalie smirked, showcasing some of her white teeth, her fangs hurt in her gums despite her recent hunt. She ignored it.

“Bear?” Isabella stared and she smiled as the realisation dawned on her pretty face “Right, yeah, he was a real bastard” she said, her tone slightly lower. As the silence wrapped around the pair, they shared a knowing grin.

“Well, I can fix your bike no problem, and since you’ll need to be on your way, I can offer a courtesy car...” Isabella’s nose scrunched adorably “Or not?” Rosalie asked, her arms folding defensively across her chest.

“No, no it’s just” Rosalie levelled an incredulous glare at the sheepish brunette “I’m being an asshole” Isabella huffed, Rosalie smiled tightly, “I prefer bikes is all” she mumbled. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“I can appreciate a woman who knows what she likes” she answered seriously, her brow arched as a delicious blush rose on Isabella’s cheeks and neck, “but I don’t have any bikes for you.” A low buzz began in Isabella’s pocket. Neither woman acknowledged the interruption.

“Honestly, I’ll appreciate whatever you can offer me” she sighed as the buzzing ceased and immediately renewed, “I am in a rush” Rosalie nodded despite the emotions that suddenly threatened to spill out of her mouth.

Rosalie was not accustomed to the strange emotions that simmered beneath the surface of her skin, caged behind the carcass of her once beating heart.

The very acknowledgment of them threatened her carefully crafted equilibrium entirely. Rosalie could count on her fingers how many romantic dalliances she’d engaged in – if they can even be called such things – since she’d died and was reborn all those years ago.

Rosalie Hale didn’t date. She certainly didn’t catch feelings – however muted – for strangers or people she’d slept with merely once. Arguably, she wasn’t in the habit of sleeping around to compare, either.

During her newborn phase Rosalie had been distracted by the smothering rage against those who’d hurt her, and subsequently, on exacting her revenge against them.

Carlisle, ever the astute scientist, supposed one day that due to her past she’d simply skipped the unending lust that vampires seemed to suffer during their newborn phase and although not as pronounced, they continued to struggle with it for a few centuries afterwards.

Ergo - according to Carlisle - Rosalie had suffered neither the desire for blood nor for any bodies to writhe beneath (and certainly not both simultaneously as she’d been informed certain vampires had enjoyed). It took everything in her not to wrinkle her nose as her mind immediately conjured all the disgusting tales Jasper, Alice and the Denali’s had recounted of their own debauched experiences.

On the rare occasion she did feel something, she either ignored it or she simply fucked the person and went along her way as though they were nothing to her, because they were nothing to her.

Perhaps she was ‘cold’, but she still believed brutal honesty was a kindness that the harmless drooling creatures deserved, and if they got a bit burnt around the edges from her ice cold attitude and dismissal – well, they shouldn’t get too close.

And yet, since she’d met Isabella, the mysterious stranger who’d blown into her tiny town and fucked her with a reverence she’d never dared allow herself to crave – she’d felt her ever coveted control slipping. Suddenly, ‘being brutally honest’ in her usual dismissive manner in this case, didn’t feel so honest after all.

Isabella was disarming, with her sensual smirk and dexterous fingers – but it was more, she pondered. It was in the subtle way of her constantly giving Rosalie reassurances and compliments, of checking in with her when she felt any minute resistance, and of her constant unquestionable kindness that she offered out without second thought. It was something. Something dangerous and altogether scary.

Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Isabella quite clearly wanted to move on and leave Rosalie behind. But Rose was also acutely aware more than most, that what one wished for and expected from life, is seldom what one receives from it. Fate, if it did exist, and Mother Nature, could be cruel that way.

Also, Rosalie could be incredibly stubborn; once her mind had settled on pursuing an action, emotion, etcetera – she could seldom be swayed from doing whatever it took to get what it was she wanted. It was one of her best qualities in her humble opinion. Her siblings had mixed feelings about this observation. She could care less. 

Rose had consciously – bravely, thank you very much - come to the conclusion that she wanted to do something more with the gorgeous brunette. But she’d only thus far identified what she wanted as a solid half-hearted: ‘don’t go, not yet’. The fact she needed more time to figure her shit out was not lost on the immortal vampire, who’d broken free from her coven twenty years ago to do just that.

Rosalie Hale was a planner. She was a woman who made lists, and had contingency plans, and didn’t stray from her plans and lists and contingency plans - because they maintained her control. It was no secret that she didn’t have autonomy in her human life, and she certainly didn’t have it during her time with the Cullen’s. That day Emmett had told her he’d found his mate, she realised with sudden clarity that she’d unknowingly traded one cage for another, all without her consent. She was a trapped bird in life, and a caged one in death. 

Twenty years ago, she left the Cullen’s to discover who Rosalie Hale was, and who she could rely upon to have her best interests at heart, because when she thought about her coven-mates, she found herself lacking. She loved them dearly, but their love felt like a transaction at times, and she’d not chosen them, not truly.

Most importantly, Rosalie wanted to discover the woman she could be. To choose to be someone she thought was hiding inside the locked doors, and hidden rooms within herself. To maybe, when she was ready, choose her own people that she loved and could love her because the ey all chose to. 

So she’d fought for control over her self, her businesses, her very brief encounters with others’ and most importantly, control over her vampirism. If her ongoing refusal to reconcile with Carlisle vexed him – well, that was an added bonus. Rosalie couldn’t help the brief twitch at the corner of her mouth. 

So Rosalie Hale, with her desperate drive for autonomy over herself and the stress and anxiety she felt over the wishy washy barely understood desire to hold onto something with Isabella, that she couldn’t yet name - and then said woman stumbling to her garage – it was all a bit overwhelming. Indeed, Rosalie found herself overwhelmed and confused and – and – is Isabella blushing and biting her lip? Fuck that’s sexy.

“…uh Rose, is everything alright?” Isabella asked softly, like one would speak to a rapid cat who was on the cusp of going full throttle feral. Rosalie grimaced inwardly, resisting the urge to hiss at herself because she’d look insane (and like a feral cat) how long had she simply stood there blinking at the poor woman? She cursed herself quietly and smiled sheepishly in response. She breathed in slowly and exhaled softly.

Rosalie Hale was stubborn. It was her best quality. Maybe stubborn could also mean brave. 

“The town you’re going to has a mechanic nearby, he acquires rare parts, he’s a bit of a character in truth but he owes me some favours,” Isabella stared at the blonde a bit bewildered, she swallowed “your bike form first glance needs several parts, likely more after I complete a proper comprehensive diagnostics observation.”

“Um, right…”

“I think you’re aware that those parts will be difficult to procure? Even if I expedite favours to hasten this, we’re looking at a few weeks at best before I can begin repairs”

“Oh” Isabella muttered, “you don’t have to make it perfect, just get it so it’s running and then I can-“ Rosalie glowered at her and Isabella’s eyes widened.

“Isabella” she gestured briefly to her organised and clean office, at the busy garage beyond “machines, cars, vehicles, they make sense to me” Rosalie admitted, chewing on her bottom lip “I am happiest when I am restoring a machine when it is broken, destroyed, not working and with missing parts – because I can see what it could be: a beautiful vehicle once more, now it might look and sound different, but it will work and I assure you, it will be better for it” Isabella smiled so gently, her brown eyes softened that Rosalie’s heart tighten, she cleared her throat “I am the best at what I do. Because I love what I do. It makes sense to me.” She smiled tightly “So I will restore your vehicle as promised – but I will do it my way” she folded her arms over her chest, “and my way means perfection or nothing, do you understand?”

Isabella swallowed visibly and nodded. Her heart rate skyrocketed and her eyes shimmered briefly to that strange green colour. Her pretty orbs darting from Rosalie’s burning and passionate eyes to her lips. Rosalie smirked.

“Stars, you’re kinda sexy when you’re being all passionate and stubborn” Isabella said, her heart beating furiously in her chest. Rosalie leaned over her desk and smiled sweetly.

 “Thank you, now do we have an understanding Isabella?” Isabella laughed breathily and nodded.

“Sure, fine whatever, yep” she said, her cheeks burning, popping the ‘p’. Rosalie decided she enjoyed this shy, fumbling side to Isabella almost as much as the confident arrogance.

“Would you mind me accompanying you to the town? I can leave you with the car and catch a ride home once I speak to my contact, he does not use technology – he’s paranoid” she rolled her eyes playfully.

Isabella paused for a few moments, her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she glanced around the room. Rosalie was on tenterhooks and hoped to god she wasn’t being too much. She’d been told she could be too much. Maybe she should abort prolonging of their time spent together? They’d be crammed into a car together, for miles and miles. She’d have to drive the speed limit. Fuck. All this incessant overthinking and I still didn’t think this through properly. Rosalie opened her mouth ready to state she could take the car she didn’t want Isabella to feel uncomfortable or backed into a corner.

“Okay” she said reluctantly as she stood facing the door “but I’m driving!”. Rosalie didn’t hide the shock at the consent, she had the sense to cover her excitement however.

Rosalie stood and walked slowly around the desk. She leaned into Isabella as she paused to open the door.

“I am no passenger princess, beautiful” her lips barely brushed the tips of Isabella’s earlobe. Isabella shivered and Rosalie giggled softly as she brushed past the frozen bewildered brunette.

“Are you coming?” she teased.

“I’m not sure, probably” she heard Isabella whisper, Rosalie laughed, her head thrown back in delight.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23:
If music be the food of love

~ Rosalie ~

Rosalie Hale loved driving.

If being turned into a vampire against her will gave her anything in this world; it was this .

With the windows rolled down, blonde hair whipping cold air around her face, gold eyes shining in delight, and her foot barely on the peddle as she whizzed down the long road with expert skill. It was peace to her. It was  freedom.

“You drive like a maniac, you know?” a voice interrupted her glee. Rosalie’s little bubble popped around her. Her grin lessened with each reluctant inch she eased her foot off the gas peddle. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Princess” Rosalie’s smile was as bright as the sun above them as she happily resumed her speed.

Isabella slowly leaned over and shifted a blonde curl from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Her hand lingered for several seconds and Rosalie dared to turn to face the woman.

Isabella’s eyes simmered with barely withheld emotion. Her face was so incredibly soft as she met Rosalie’s eyes and her shy smile lit a flame in Rosalie’s chest. Isabella coughed as her hand retreated.

“It’s beautiful” Rosalie said, gesturing with her head towards the passing mountains and forest. Isabella did not shift her gaze from the side of Rosalie’s face, she knew because she felt it down her back and to her toes.

“Gorgeous” Isabella’s whispered reply sent shivers down her spine. “Since you so rudely stole the best job…I’ve decided to be our DJ” Isabella said, her tone slightly higher as she cleared her throat and fiddled with the aux.

Rosalie’s face hurt from smiling - it didn’t, not really - she knew deep down that this was a memory. An echo of the pleasant feeling from days spent laughing with her friends. Like a fantom limb tingling. It wasn’t truly tingling. But the owner remembered the feeling, their brain comforting them, lessening the shock perhaps. She’d have to properly look into the science of it, it’d make her feel less… lost. Research and education often comforted her in times when she felt like an imposter.

Regardless, Rosalie’s cheeks burned from the constant unpracticed stretch of the surrounding skin.  Sadness settled in her heart as she remembered it wasn’t real . The realisation - the reminder - didn’t hurt as much as when it’d happened when she was a younger vampire. Rosalie was practiced in this. In hurt .

Rosalie’s smile slowly dropped as it so often did, that was, until the talented voice of Cher blasted throughout the cars speakers. Her smile paused its habitual retreat, the corner of her mouth twitched upward so slightly instead. Rosalie’s gold eyes widened in disbelief.

“If I could turn back time…” Isabella’s voice boomed as the woman turned the volume all the way up, “if I could find a way…” she sang, her eyes closed and head thrown back. “I know you know the words Rose,” she shouted, a smug smile stretched on her pretty lips, “I commandeered the aux” she shrugged cutely and the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss the girl threatened to restart her heart and then stop it all over again.

Instead, Rose gripped the wheel tighter and watched in fascination as Isabella continued her singing, she noted her voice wasn’t perfect, and she was slightly off key but it wasn’t terrible .

Alice sounded like a dying cat and she was a vampire who should have a reasonably pleasant voice at the very least. But her dear sister defied those rules of vampires, and being the ever supportive sister she was - Rose teased the oracle mercilessly over the fact. Her sisters face could lure even the most straight woman to her knees - but if she sang to her? It’d be like pouring ice water all over her, game over. This , wasn’t that at least and - and-

“My world was shattered I was torn apart, like someone took a knife and drove it deeeep in my heart” Isabella’s giggle was borderline sinister, still, Rosalie couldn’t look away as the woman swayed and bopped her head to the music unabashedly.

Her car was filled with loud pop music, off key singing and laughter; she wondered briefly if this was in fact better than driving.

“…but I lost everything darlin’ then and there! Too strong to tell you I was sorry, too proud to tell you I was wrong…” Isabella’s eyes bore into her, a dare. Rosalie rolled her own, feigning exasperation despite the paradoxical smile that tugged at her painted red lips.

“If I could turn back time!” She suddenly  bellowed, and Isabella squealed in surprised joy.

So, they sang together, loudly and giddily. And Rosalie allowed the moment of unbridled joy to flood her body and mind.

“If I could reach the stars, I’d give um all to you!” Isabella stared into Rosalie’s eyes, her sparkling green orbs looking, searching for something. They smiled briefly and Rosalie swooned, just a little.

“…If I could turn back time…ohhh baby! I didn’t really mean to hurt you” Isabella sang, holding her closed fist to Rosalie’s mouth. Rosalie grinned and leaned closer.

“I didn’t wanna see you go! I know ah made you cry! Oh baby, baby!”

“If I could turn back time!” They bellowed together, laughing intermittently.

“…then maybe,” Isabella sang into her fist.

“Maybe…” Rosalie sang into the fisted ‘microphone’.

“Maybe” Isabella replied, smiling.

“…Maybe,

you’d stay!” They finished together, though at a significantly quieter volume as they stared into one another’s eyes. Brilliant green meeting bright gold. Rosalie searched the swirling orbs and saw her own darkening eyes reflecting a silvery hue back at her.

She didn’t understand what the fuck she was seeing. Then something dormant, something hidden in a place she barely recognised as her snapped like a string on a guitar. Rosalie jerked her head forward so quickly her neck splintered a fraction. It distracted her enough to breathe, to pause. She immediately pulled over to the side of the road and sucked in a longer, deeper breath.

“Woah!”

She whipped her head towards the voice and Isabella covered her cold hand with her own warm palm, it lay steadily as the wheel groaned in protest from how hard she’d been gripping it.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok” Isabella whispered. Rosalie stared helplessly into worried hazel eyes. “There ya go, breathe, princess”  Rosalie refrained from rolling her eyes at her dramatics.

Her gums ached to sink into Isabella’s soft flesh, to take her blood and…but where her disturbing violent urges usually ended in the desire for taking blood until the body was drained and dead and cold like her. She felt the creature within her balk at the very notion of doing so to this body before her. To Isabella. It was disorienting, not being forced to fight those horrible desires back to their cage.

She wanted to laugh. To rage at herself. At Royce and Carlisle for making her into this monster she constantly fought against. At herself for walking alone at night and for trusting those men to respect her. At her parents for failing her so thoroughly. At Genevieve for leaving her to face their mercy all alone. At the time she was born, because it wasn’t ready to accept the kind of love she craved. At the people she called brother or sister. At the friends she was forced to keep her distance.

But she couldn’t feel mad or upset or hurt by any of them, any of it. Not really. That’s what made her most upset. It all lead her to here . To right now. To her eyes, her body, her laugh, her singing, her heart, her scent…her.  

Was her whole fucking miserable life, the pain and suffering and people, was it all designed - was she designed - somehow… so she’d stumble into the right now. A present - maybe even a future, if she dared to hope and reach out for it - that excited and terrified her. Oh but it terrified her on such an astonishing level that she was sure she’d stopped breathing minutes ago.

She didn’t understand.

She didn’t understand.

She didn’t understand.

She had so many years on earth, so many degrees and three doctorates and still….

She. Didn’t. Understand. This .

This warm, fuzzy, fluttering in her stomach. The violent pull she felt just now. She wanted to cry, she felt the urge to do so rise to a visceral level. Felt the beginnings of the bloody tears well in her eyes.

All this time, she thought she understood the vampire, the demon inside of her. Understood its dark desires and instinct for blood and pain and death. She thought she had the ability to therefore control it when needed.

She thought wrong . Understood it all wrong. 

So very, very wrong .

~ Isabella ~

“To be clear, we’re not gonna address whatever that was there?” Rosalie had been so silent since she’d pulled over and stared coldly- unseeing and fearful. Isabella was then hit with a powerful cocktail of emotions so strong that she’d been rendered rather useless for several moments. Poor Rosalie was forced to ride the waves of her own emotions entirely alone, because Isabella Swan was so goddamn floored by them. She had absolutely no context of what on earth triggered such strong emotions, and they were so confusing she could hardly differentiate one from the other.

“In the same way we are not addressing last night?” Rosalie challenged, her grip tightening on the wheel and her tone curt. The vampire had clearly sensed Isabella’s reluctance to talk about their night together and hadn’t pushed, for which Isabella was grateful. She could not get side tracked again, and she certainly couldn’t entertain anything beyond what they’d shared last night. It wouldn’t be fair to the beautiful blonde.

Orion’s emotions flickered inside her and she shifted in her seat awkwardly. It’s as if her friend was saying: then why did you agree to her driving us?

I was flustered! She chewed on the inside of her cheek as Orion’s incredulity swarmed her mind. Oh shut up, I never claimed to be perfect. 

She didn’t really know why she’d done that. Clearly Rosalie’s impressive work ethic and flirtatious attitude had fried her reasonably intellectual brain. Fine, also…she hadn’t wanted to say goodbye yet, so maybe she jumped at the chance to be around Rosalie a little longer. It wasn’t a fucking crime. Maybe she’d even get to kiss her again, or dare she hope to explore more of her sensational body … if Rosalie wanted to.

It broke all her rules, and Kate’s sad eyes as she’d finally realised Isabella couldn’t commit to her flashed in her mind. She was a selfish and unfair bastard then for holding onto Kate, and she was being one now for not letting go of Rosalie. Guilt rose within her - because she’d done it anyway, knowing that she wouldn’t - couldn’t - give anymore of herself. Again!

I’m an asshole O. She admonished herself and her friend didn’t wholly disagree on this occasion. 

“Fair enough” she agreed, still shaken herself from the blondes emotional outburst.

She clicked shuffle on her Spotify playlist and the music began once more. Soon the car was engulfed in the sounds of a gentle strumming guitar and of the gravelly voice of Kenny Rogers singing about a Gambler giving some stellar advice.

Isabella closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest, her fingers strummed on her knee as she hummed along to the soft tune.

“I didn’t think you’d listen to country music” Rosalie said, her voice somewhat strained. Somehow, Isabella knew this was her strange way of trying . It warmed her stupid heart. Isabella’s eyes remained closed as she smiled.

“I have an eclectic music taste” she shrugged. “I like pretty much anything; it helps me escape”. As someone who constantly repressed her empathic ability, music was another way for her to feel a little freer, of letting her feel something that she could control. To understand it, get a bit lost in it. It was ironically grounding for her, where her life oftentimes felt unstable.

Isabella discovered she loved music shortly after she’d experienced memories of Orion watching curiously as humans created it and enjoyed it for so long and in so many different ways.

She learnt during their first and longest memory transfer, as Orion had so long ago, to hear music like they did. It was everywhere, in everything, not just the instruments the human creatures played but in the nature around them, in the laughter of children playing, in a mother singing nursery rhymes to their children. In a sad song sang lowly by soldiers huddled together for warmth as a war raged around them. She loved it dearly, and it was a love she and Orion shared.

“What are you trying to escape from, Isabella?” Rosalie queried, her gold orbs drifted to her own and the look she had on her angelic face made Isabella uncomfortable.

“Bears” she grinned, Rosalie rolled her eyes and levelled a rather impressive incredulous expression. “Everything Rose, absolutely fucking everything” she said barely above a whisper. Rosalie met her gaze and the blonde sighed as sympathy and surprise shone in her eyes.

Several minutes passed in comfortable silence as song after song played, a quiet symphony of sound amidst the Alaskan backdrop. It was quite peaceful, almost serene, Isabella noted.

“I’m sorry, about earlier. I uhm, get triggered sometimes it’s-“ Rosalie’s knuckles bleached white, her eyes shifted nervously from the road ahead to Isabella and back again several times.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, princess” she explained softly “wanna talk about it?” Isabella asked softly.

“No, not really” Rosalie shook her head, a tight smile on her lips.

Hans Zimmer’s Interstellar composition softly played as Rosalie laid a gentle palm over Isabella’s upper thigh. “Thank you, I appreciate your kindness” Rosalie smiled gently and removed her hand. The blonde turned and her eyes resumed their watch on the long road ahead. Isabella felt warmth spread all the way to her toes; Rosalie seemed genuinely surprised when Isabella softly kissed her cheek.

“You’re a strange woman, Rosalie Hale,” she whispered against the cool flesh, shamelessly inhaling the wonderful scent of the vampire “I find I rather like it” she admitted through a husked whisper and she chewed her lower lip as Rosalie smirked in that vexing way of hers. Her eyes completely betrayed her and drifted to Rosalie’s lips. The blondes smile was close to feline. 

“I’m glad I met you Isabella, even if it is only for a short while” Rosalie met her gaze after a few seconds and she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. God she’s fucking beautiful. 

“Careful, Princess, flattery will get you everywhere” she winked and they shared knowing smiles. Isabella squirmed in her seat before she began to sing along to the music, her cheeks significantly warmer.

For a short while, they drove and sang softly to random songs along the quiet Alaskan road that stretched for miles and miles. They passed a little sign stating the towns name which indicated ‘8 miles’.

And for those 8 miles, between flirtatious smiles and beautiful scenery, soft singing and adventurous hands grazing against thighs and arms and abdomens all was peaceful and calm in their strange, violent, unforgiving world.

Until of course, it wasn’t.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24
Monsters

"The truth is, there are monsters everywhere. And sometimes, the monsters we least suspect are the most dangerous. They don't need teeth and claws to terrify. They hide in the shadows until no one is looking. And then they strike." ~ Wednesday Addams

~ Isabella ~

Isabella glanced at the large signpost she passed, ‘welcome to Haines, Alaska’ proudly etched in large white lettering, and held by two large wooden posts with carvings of birds of prey in the indigenous style. The mismatched buildings gave the small town an old world charm to it. Isabella could imagine old horse drawn carts and cowboys and fortune seekers wandering the wide and open streets, taking in the shopkeepers and their wares as they tugged their fur coats tighter around their chilled bodies.

The large harbour with its crystal clear water in the distance was framed by large imposing white-tipped mountains and fog. With Isabella’s enhanced senses, she felt a sense of comfort from the wildness of the place, that boasted less human inhabitants than Forks. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she noted the similarities in the beautiful place she left so much of herself in, and the place she stood inside now. A comparatively wild beauty of different landscapes. Of pure crisp tree, chilly and nature infused air, tall trees and the harsh rushing and soft treacle sounds of water in some form. Different yes, but equally mesmerising.

Rosalie had left her with an uncertain smile, a fur lined jacket and the keys to the car several minutes earlier, though not before subtly programming her number into Isabella’s cell. Isabella had remained silently stunned for several long seconds, as she stared from the new contact to Rosalie’s disappearing form. The vampire continued to surprise Isabella Swan, and the more she spent time with her so too did her curiosity.

The sun gradually descended into the afternoon as Isabella tucked her cell away. Alaska always amused Isabella, even in late July it was a little chilly, and despite the infrequent sunlight and warmth she always found she quite enjoyed Alaskan sunset in particular. The bright blue sky gradually blushed pink, her eyes could even see little speckled stars dotting the horizon. Then there was the Aurora, which she was bummed to note was absent at this time of year. The shocking green, white and star infused swirls were utterly breathtaking and Isabella had been bewitched the first time she’d seen them with her new eyes.

She zipped the gifted jacket closed and refrained from smelling the blondes sweet scent. She was not some kind of animal, and she was pensively concerned that Rosalie might somehow want more from her.  It wasn’t glaringly obvious and she could be reading into thing. But she had a particular look in those golden orbs that had her heart stuttering and her stomach dropping in terror. She sighed loudly.

Rosalie’s emotions were so fucking loud that they’d rendered Isabella momentarily breathless. That little look she’d caught Rosalie giving her intermittently held so much in it. Desire, curiosity, hunger, pain, want… hope .

At first, Isabella thought she must be going mad - hello have you seen Rosalie Hale - the woman could have anyone on the planet, she would not want a broken creature, whose very existence teetered on the precarious balancing act of keeping the complex supernatural world in one piece so they didn’t destroy humanity and the planet they all shared.

Harmony amongst numerous supernatural species was not Isabella’s goal, well, not her immediate goal. It would take a long time to reach that level of trust for the vast majority of creatures - given the complex cultures, laws and abilities they all had, not to mention the complexity of their long history and associated transgressions.

It had all cumulated into very rocky and fragile relationships that mostly consisted of ‘stay out of our way, we’ll stay out of yours’. Some species outright and openly despised one another - and the vampires were probably the least trusted and barely tolerated species of all.

They’d grown so suspicious and distrusting of one another. Their lack of empathy and understanding of one another risked them all losing everything they held dear. Isabella could only hope their bridges could be rebuilt from the rubble that had long since been abandoned.

Perhaps she was stupidly hopeful. Orion gave her so much strength and knowledge and hope . Their people made it work on a distant planet in a far away galaxy - why couldn’t they, here, on this planet, right now? Honestly, just like the infinite Alaskan sky above her, it all seemed insurmountable to Isabella most times - and she felt like she was crawling up a maple syrup soaked mountain.

Sometimes Isabella wanted to give up, just go away and live her life like she wished to do in when she first woke - but, that’s not how her life had unfolded. She felt such peace when she helped people, when she restored their hope .

Oh but it was a dangerous thing, hope. It lead people to taking risks on the sliver of chance that it’d all work out okay, even more, it was all worth the risk on the minute chance that it made it all better …

It might also blow up in your face and leave all involved much worse off. But - that was the gift of choice . It was a symptom and a curse of hope.

Hope.

A dangerous, wicked, little thing that Isabella nonetheless gripped onto by her bleeding fingertips. And it was what she recognised in Rosalie’s fleeting looks, but those looks were pointed right at her . And they were filled with a dangerous hopefulness that had her broken heart stutter.

So many variables to juggle. And she did not have the time or energy to be juggling whatever it was Rosalie wanted from her. Because she knew, just from that pointed determined look, that Rosalie Hale wanted something from her. Likely something she absolutely could not give her.

She grit her teeth as she glared at the stars in the sky, as though the balls of gas were silently judging her for her choices, for the path she chose to walk down. Almost mocking her with the flashing lights of ‘what ifs’ and ‘if only’ - possibilities that were closed doors to Isabella Swan now.

She did not have the heart to break someone else’s heart again, to dodge the shards of themselves they leave behind for her to cut herself on. They served as tiny pieces lodged and buried under her skin, making her bleed with regret. Making her itch and open scars she’d long thought healed.

The guilt that ate away at her insides like an insidious pest, picking greedily at her open wounds as she tried constantly to cover them up.

No, she hadn’t the time for hopefulness, she hadn’t the time to dodge the pieces of another woman’s broken heart. Especially a vampires, who were well known in her world as somewhat temper prone creatures with a tendency to experience uncontrolled and intense emotions. Isabella was doing just fine before Rosalie Hale walked into that damn dive bar. She will be fine after Rosalie had walked away with her non-beating heart intact, completely unaware of the bullet she’d dodged.

“Stars” she sighed, “let’s go”.

“O, this place gives me the creeps” she mumbled as she got closer and closer to the  near derelict building that was somehow still upright. It sat at the farthest side of the dock, accessible only by a very narrow little dirt pathway, she’d stared at the building in the distance and back her cell glaring at the map in disbelief.

“Aro is finally going to kill us” she grumbled as she came to stand a few feet from the old imposing building. She glanced around her with an air of suspicion, her eyes and ears alert.

Isabella was not accustomed to being completely alone, she always of course had Orion, but aside from them, she had students, a nosy roommate, and needy supernatural clients to entertain her most hours of the day (and night). This kind of isolation was rare for her to experience and, had she not been stood before an eery building on the outskirts of a tiny town in nowhere Alaska as the afternoon crept away and bled quietly into evening.

“I suggest you stop where you are and turn back, Miss”

Isabella spin around so quickly her head hurt. His voice was a cold deep baritone, it exuded confidence and control. She narrowed her eyes as a huge middle aged man with silver hair in the hair atop his head and beard. Isabella’s brow scrunched tightly as she observed the pristine military outfit.

Pressed cargo pants made way to shiny black boots with barley a scuff to be seen, a beige t-shirt poked out around his wide neck and a well fitted cargo shirt that barely contained his biceps and bulging pectoral muscles was buttoned neatly with the corporal sign slotted over the centre of his chest.

He tightly held a rifle in his steady hands and she noticed a handgun strapped to his thigh. Isabella cocked her head slightly at the display. What has Aro been up to? His face appeared obnoxiously unbothered as she assessed him, though she knew from the black eyes that subtly scanned the area were trained and focused.

“Hello, I’m looking for a Doctor Havillard? This is the name and address given to me by my client” she tired to peek over the man’s shoulder but saw nothing but the twinkling lights of the town in the distance and the rushing sound of water.

“State your name and business” he gruffly responded. She didn’t blame him, she doubted many tourists would stray so far from the town, and those who did likely turned around before they made it this far.

The area made her feel sick to her stomach, as only a place concealing something supernaturally nefarious could. Most humans couldn’t stand the feeling and would stay well clear, it begged the question; what was being concealed in that silent imposing building?

“I appreciate you’re doing your job, sir, but I am here trying to do mine. Doctor Isabella Swan, I’m here to consult on behalf of Aro Volturi” she said, slightly irritated.

The soldier acknowledged her with a grim nod, and abruptly turned towards the darkened building. She steadily followed, allowing Orion to gently help her control her nerves by their mere presence. The soldier was several feet ahead of her but with each passing inch closer, she couldn’t help but grind her teeth as the uneasy feeling intensified to beyond uncomfortable levels. Was it a shipping container, no it was multiple stacked atop each other.

Her scowl deepened as she got closer and peeked a metal door.

“Proof of identification before we enter” the man said. She was so much closer to him now, and could clearly see the hardened features, sharp cheekbones and rough pale skin. Isabella nodded, unable to unclench her jaw as she lifted her hair and tied it atop her head with a loose hair tie she kept around her wrist. Isabella turned slowly to allow the sentinel a chance to observe her tattoo below her neck.

“You’re late” was his gruff response, before the loud creaking of the metal door opening greeted her ears. “Victor” he simply stated, she nodded once in acknowledgment, the air remained tenser than her posture despite the new introductions and gorgeous Alaskan mountain backdrop.

She turned and bleakly winced at the darkened entranceway, partially blocked by Victor.

Isabella’s stomach dropped as she observed a few things at once:

1: the sickening stench of fear, and the sense that the surrounding darkness craved it, for the place to be saturated in fear - desperate for more, greedy for it. The underlying smell of human waste and chemicals and wrongness filtered through somehow. Isabella’s eyes widened comically.

2: Blood. The place reeked of it. So much so Isabella had to control the desperate urge to gag.

3: the sounds of clattering chains, mumbled voices and… drilling?

4: the jarring sight of the slight quirk of Victor’s dry mouth - as close to a smirk as the man got - as he held the door open and before she could step inside, Victor said with a smile in his low tone “is your angry friend joining us?”.

Isabella blinked at him is confusion as he stared past her, seemingly concentrating on whatever or whoever stood behind her. Isabella cursed as she turned her head to meet the furious barely golden gaze she couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Shit” she whispered.

And when she turned to face Victor, Isabella clenched her jaw and fists hard as the soldier grinned, showcasing two sharpened fangs and merciless bright crimson eyes peered down at her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25
Monsters pt 2

~ Isabella ~

One minute and four seconds, she counted each second in her head. As Rosalie and Isabella absorbed being reintroduced as supernatural creatures, belonging to the same fucked up world. Unblinking eyes of brilliant green and onyx gold, both backs rigid and stiff, a fist slightly clenched, a jaw cracking uncomfortably. Green eyes reflecting guilt and gold reflecting betrayal. A silent stalemate, breaths heavy and hearts heavier still.

One minute and four seconds for Isabella Swan to soak in the regret in her realisation that her omission of her supernatural nature during their time together may have been a little unfair. If the hurt and confusion in Rosalie’s wide gold eyes was anything to go by.

She could explain it off how she usually did - she was fair and said it was a one time thing, she didn’t exactly scream ‘looking for love’ - but it didn’t negate from the fact that Rosalie appeared hurt affected by her actions. And yeah, Isabella could admit it, she hated it.

She opened her mouth to say, well, something, anything, but she closed it every time like some kind of idiot goldfish. Because what could she realistically say? Sorry felt too little a word to encapsulate how genuinely bad she felt, but anything more scared her. Isabella wasn’t very good with her feelings, saying the first thing she thought about, she probably presented as robotic to some degree. In reality, she felt it best to avoid saying anything at all - because she felt big feelings, and she also sometimes felt other people’s feelings. It could feel a bit overwhelming, that, and she was missing a part of herself that she’d voluntarily sacrificed - so she physically couldn’t feel what some did. She was much better at advising other people rather than reflecting and expressing her own. It was safer that way. For everyone else. Because the alternative is hurting people, or being forced to regret her choices and that sucked.

But this was uncharted waters, and the sharks were circling Isabella Swan as Rosalie’s golden eyes flickered from her to Victor as though finally noticing the man. The immediate deathly glare she shot him was utterly terrifying.

Now in hindsight, the events that followed their little stand off are not some of Isabella Swan’s best examples of sound, rational decision making.

Because frankly, all fucking hell broke loose…

~

Suddenly, Rosalie Hale was there, right in front of them, shoving Isabella behind her slightly crouched rock hard, tense body. She protectively hovered in front of her with her out her arms extended outward to keep Isabella behind her. Victor merely arched an eyebrow, bemused.

And that, seemed to ruffle Rosalie’s beast as a low warning growl erupted from deep within the blondes throat.

Rosalie was gone.

She‘s all bared white teeth and black eyes, her sharp fangs dripped literal venom from the pointed tips. Fury incarnate. Isabella shivered involuntarily at the sight and she stood there, partially hidden from Victor, staring at Rosalie’s rigid back, absolutely stunned.

“I take it you know this vampire?” Victor drawled, mouth slightly tilted upward in amusement at Isabella’s aghast expression. Rosalie hissed like a feral cat at the solider. A threatening snarl and a deep growl soon echoed around the small group.

Fuck, that’s kinda hot. Wait? What? No! Absolutely not. Not the time Isabella! Victor merely grinned. Rosalie’s warning growl intensified, her legs bent, her stance screaming ‘attack’. Like a coiled viper, preparing itself for the final strike. Shit.

Isabella had once talked down a near feral wolf shifter from attacking who they perceived as a threat to their young child - and she’d stunk of vampire given she’d just visited Kate. She reasoned like a true diplomat, despite the Wolf scenting the vampire and raw power on her - she’d managed to talk him down from his attack using only her wits and calm demeanour.

This situation should arguably not be as tense - and yet, here she was. Standing mute, not quite cowering behind her one-time-lovers back but not quite not either.

“Rosalie, please calm down-“ she tried.

“Indeed girl, how old are you? You behave l like a newborn. Pathetic” Victor commented completely unamused, fangs fully displayed. Fuuuuuuuck sake! Now, when faced with a snake that felt threatened, one should not antagonise it further.

Victor knew his kind in this base mindset - pointed fangs, onyx eyes, venom coursing through their veins like poison - they were hungry for blood and are exactly like newborns. Existing wholly as their baser vampire. Primitive. Uncontrollable. Violent. Protective. Deadly. What’s he thinking? She thought angrily.

Victor, with his barbed sarcasm and threatening display of his fangs, had essentially poked the snake with a pointed objected, repeatedly. And, from Rosalie’s deep guttural rumble, that no human could ever make, Victor had inadvertently hit some sort of pressure point.

“Unbelievable” she grumbled at him. The male merely shrugged.

Isabella tried to stay calm and diplomatic, she truly did, after all she was not in distress, this was her business and she may not be invincible but she could easily handle one vampire. She could handle several actually, but that’s by the by.

She stared, annoyance growing by the second as Rosalie hissed and snarled wickedly, almost completely overtaken by raw vampire instinct despite Isabella’s repeated insistence that she was fine and this could all - mostly - be explained.

Victor made his final fatal mistake in the middle of Isabella’s attempt to talk down the fuming female vampire, when he took one small step forward, it was one step too far for the barley holding it together blonde.

Isabella witnessed the exact moment that Rosalie’s final hold on the frail threads of her control slipped…

When quicker than she thought was possible, even for a vampire, Rosalie pounced on the behemoth man, sharp teeth bared and glinting and eyes completely jet black.

“Ow! What the hell!” Isabella grumbled as in her hasty attack, Rosalie had shoved Isabella to the side. Isabella winced as she rubbed at her elbow. “That’s going to leave a bruise, for fuck sake!” She shouted, “I mean it’ll heal in a day or so but that’s not the point” she mumbled incoherently.

The vampires growled as they fought, both of their inner vampires now firmly in control, driving them to dominate, take control, protect, defend and who knows what the fuck else these creatures used to justify their idiocy.

“For stars sake!” She shouted after minutes of the pair battling, the splintering sound of vampire skin cracking like nails on a chalkboard and Isabella’s annoyance made way to concern.

Rosalie was methodically ruthless in her offensive attacks - if Isabella wasn’t so entirely irritated at the days turn of events, she’d have noticed how absurdly arousing Rosalie’s fighting skills were.

As it was, Isabella had had enough.

She pulled out her dagger and quickly carved a tiny rune over her wrist, muttering Latin phrases and hissing as the magic immediately responded to her call. Isabella wasn’t the strongest with her abilities it’s true, but advanced rune magic was something she enjoyed, perhaps because it was Orion’s favourite too. Maybe because she understood the mechanics of this type of rare magic. Frankly, it was because It was a pretty cool discipline.

Her hand glowed a shocking blue before she held it up and thrust it toward the pair.

“Enough!” She bellowed.

Intention was the driver behind every rune spell, blood was the best igniter or binder, but magic, especially powerful magic, cost the user greatly. Magic was ancient - more ancient than most creatures that walked the earth. It existed in the earth and within certain creatures to varying degrees of potency, all of whom could call upon their blood to try spell work. But a great deal would perish from their attempts, for they were too focused on controlling the ancient powers. And one did not control magic - no, it simply allowed the user to utilise its potential - for a cost. It was temperamental and was the reason so few practiced the arts, even if their blood sang and begged for them to do so.

Isabella was less than amused she’d been forced to utilise her rune skills and call upon the ancient magic in her blood and earth to work her spell.

The warring vampires immediately ceased their fighting and Isabella grunted as she held them both still. Immobile as statues. Eerily still. Keeping the pair immobilised under the ‘Immobilisation’ runes influence she’d carved into her skin, so she could assess the damage and return the vampires to themselves before they started losing any limbs. And Isabella was fond of Rosalie’s limbs remaining attached to the blondes body.

Rosalie seethed, her eyes scanning the vicinity in her brief confusion. Until her eyes fell onto Isabella, and her bewildered expression soon made way to an intense glare so cold it sent a shiver down Isabella’s spine. Isabella had temporarily sacrificed her empathic ability to utilise the runes magic, given it was no small feat to immobilise two supernatural beings.

But she didn’t need her temporarily lost ability to see the underlying hurt in Rose’s eyes. Isabella didn’t have time for feelings, first, she needed to check Rosalie was okay physically. She was methodical in her assessment of the beautiful blonde.

Her shirt was mostly intact, though little strips of fabric had been torn around her neck. Some small spider-cracks were visible along her exposed collarbone and cheek. She noted several small bones were broken, and sat at awkward angles about her body. Rosalie boldly kept her eye contact focused and fuming as Isabella raked her eyes over every inch of the woman.

It was suddenly unacceptable that Rosalie was in pain, even if it was a little warranted - being the attacking party and all - but Isabella was no less compelled to help, for some undisclosed reason. As though the very thought of this woman being in pain physically hurt her too. Isabella sighed, long and exaggerated, through her nose.

“Honestly!” She groused, “sana vulnera corporis [heal all physical wounds]” Rosalie’s bones cricked and cracked as they mended before her eyes. For the blondes part, she stared in openmouthed, wide eyed disbelief as she heard her wounds heal over, the bones snapping back to place.

Isabella sucked in several sharp breaths and hisses as she felt the full force of the ordeal in Rosalie’s stead. All magic has a cost after all, and it was something every practicing witch, warlock and demon knew. It was her very first lesson with Orion, and it is something she took very seriously. She had to.

Isabella found that healing was usually the most costly spells to wield, but depending on the wounds and how many wounded - the wielder would usually be forced to experience the pain of each ailment in sharp, agonising clarity. But as most things, magic had many limitations, no matter how powerful the being or the method of healing - spells, potions, salts, runes, innate ability, etcetera - they would not, and could not, revive the dead.

Isabella learned this lesson the hardest and most tragic way imaginable.

She briefly closed her eyes as the pain subsided, they weren’t the worst wounds she’d healed by a long shot, but she very rarely called upon healing magic - it was hard to control and heartbreaking when it went awry. The look of hope as it was dashed from loved ones eyes was the worst part - followed by her own heartache that she could not help. But suck was life. Such was the cost of unpredictable ancient magic. It was not a bandaid that could be used to fix all issues - it took incredible power and skill to do the simplest of spells. Isabella may have power, but she was not all powerful, she had limits - and discovered them regularly.

Isabella fought the urge to lie down as she felt a sudden wave of dizziness from the use of her abilities. Orion’s voice filtered in from her memory ‘you’d be stronger if you’d complete the merge and practiced more!’ She rolled her eyes internally. Maybe I don’t want to be powerful? Maybe I just want to be! Maybe I’m happy with who I am? Orion, perhaps accustomed to this internal monologue, or simply Xe were wise enough to pick their battles - remained silent.

“I understand you have questions and I guess I owe you some answers” she said her voice calm, almost defeated, “I will give you them, I promise.” She looked right into the fuming blondes angry gaze, “but this is not the time nor the place” Rosalie snorted indignantly, her eyes shining with disappointment and anger. Some of the gold hue had returned however, that was good. She had her grip on her control, even if only a little. Isabella sighed internally, relieved.

But she unknowingly projected much more, despite Isabella’s attempt at shutting the woman’s emotions out. But betrayal always did taste acidic and hurt tasted like sour off-lemons. She wanted to comfort Rosalie, tell her she didn’t mean to hurt her, she wanted to make her smile so badly it stole her breath from her lungs. But she had a job to do. And Rosalie Hale’s hurt feelings were not on her immediate to do list.

Feelings later. Action now.

“Right now, I have a job to do. And If either of you delay me further with your ridiculous vampire bullshit, I swear you will regret it” She chastised, her tone harsh, and her glare harsher still. Her threat was half baked, she did mean it, Isabella took her role as mediator, protector and representative very seriously - but somehow, somewhere inside her, she knew she could never intentionally harm Rosalie. Perhaps she was a fool indeed.

“I apologise for my behaviour” Victor replied quickly, before he spat some excess venom from his mouth. He bobbed his head once towards Rosalie and his fangs retreated in his gums. She nodded once, satisfied with his apology, Isabella released him. She sighed and almost groaned in pleasure at the instant feeling of relief.

“Release me immediately Isabella, I will not ask twice” Rosalie suddenly spat, clearly broken from her silent reverie. Isabella saw fury and something like fear in her pretty eyes and she swallowed uncomfortably.

“I apologise, it was not my best idea to immobilise you, truthfully it’s the first time I’ve used that rune and let me tell you it’s a real bitch, I’ll not be doing it again if I can help it.” She grumbled and she flicked her wrist upward, the rune symbol for immobilisation faded from her exposed wrist and her sensation of touch returned.

Rosalie glowered at her with such hatred and betrayal that Isabella held her hands up in surrender “I’m sorry okay, but you attacked my associate, and neither of you would fucking listen to me!” She tried to reason, as Rosalie’s nostrils flared “look, I stopped the whole ‘woe is me, I’m a helpless wallflower with no sense of autonomy’ shit decades ago” she rolled her eyes in frustration, before staring into Rosalie’s orbs “I do not need your protection” She punctuated her point by stepping towards the door, and flicked a piece of stars knows what from Victor’s uniformed shoulder. Rosalie bristled but made no attempt to move.

“Explanation. Now” Rosalie whispered, her clipped words were clearly all she would dare to say given how mad she was and how hard she was trying to control her beast. Her slender fists clenched at her sides as she seemingly fought for control. What is up with this girl?

“No” Isabella said and she gaped as Rosalie hissed in fury.

“Isabella, you lied to me! I refuse to let you leave without at least-”

“Careful Princess, I don’t answer to you and I don’t require your permission to do or not do anything. Is that understood?” she didn’t wait for the response, her tone had dropped dangerously low. She did not like Rosalie’s words or behaviour, she sounded almost entitled. One night of fucking and a mechanic to fix her vehicle does not entitle Rosalie to order Isabella around. But that’s not what bothered her. She flexed her jaw.

It’s because her words sounded too close to something he might’ve demanded, back when he thought he knew what was best for her. But she wasn’t that scared girl clinging to the first boy who’d claimed to love her unconditionally. That girl quite literally, died.

“Isabella I-“

“Victor! Victor! Get to the lab now, the subject is-nnnghhhh” A shrill voice broke off.

Victors blackened eyes widened comically and with one final panicked look, he zipped through the door. Isabella stepped just inside the darkened room and felt a sudden sharp pain at her shoulder. She glared at the delicate feminine hand that was clamped over her flesh.

“Do. Not” Isabella warned, her tone barely above a whisper. Rosalie wisely removed her hand.

“Isabella, I don’t know what this place is or what the fuck is going on but I do know it’s really dangerous. I- please-” Rosalie stuttered softly, and she raised her hand to touch Isabella’s arm but paused before she reached the desired destination.

Isabella turned her head to face her, they were inches apart, so close Isabella could practically taste Rosalie’s salty sweet skin. The blondes face was awash with anguish and confusion and hurt and fear. Isabella could practically taste it.

“I’m not in danger, Rose” She said quietly as she slowly stepped away from the woman and smiled sadly, “I- know you might not believe me now but I am sorry, princess” she quickly cupped Rosalie’s soft cold cheek and rubbed along her cheekbone, before dropping her hand, “you need to leave, you shouldn’t be here, I’ll find you after, cross my heart”. She smiled softly and Rosalie’s expression morphed to reflect mostly concern and maybe, beneath the surface if you squint - fondness. It clenched her heart.

She didn’t wait for a response as she ran like a bat out of hell and into the cold building. Her feet pounded on the concrete below her, as she blindly followed and searched for the sounds of ear piercing screams. And she sped right towards them.

Perhaps, she thought as she burst into the room, she’d ran into hell.

~

“Pull the - nngh - the lever there!” The man in the lab coat shouted, as he held a severed limb to his chest.

“This one?” Victor grunted as he pulled the level down on the huge console. A loud buzzing noise began and Victor ducked from a sideways attack from a feral male vampire.

“Shit, the receiver isn’t working! What do we do?” Victor growled as he held a male vampire in a tight headlock whilst the small man in the lab coat scanned the room in utter panic. Isabella watched the scene with a furrowed brow, immobilised in her confusion. Three feral-like vampires snarled and snapped and grabbed at the pair.

“We’ll have to kill them” Lab coat resolved, Victor stared at him with an unreadable expression.

“You shouldn’t be in here girl! If they scent-“

“Too late, Doctor!” Victor cut in as he swiftly snapped the creatures neck and attempted to reach Isabella by the door. “Move!” Victor hissed as she shook her head. Vampires were very fast, shifters were faster, she was somewhere in the middle on her best days.

But her energy had been drained slightly and she was shocked at the bloodied room as four humans lay in bits on the concrete ground, blood splattered up the walls and over the control console to the centre of the room before a two way mirror that she had to turn away from in disgust. She was fast. But the bald creature that hurtled after her, eyes black and skin cracked, body looking half starved. Its face contorted in fury and hunger. Oh, they were faster. Much, much faster.

She grunted as it barrelled into her and knocked her to the side and into a fallen wooden chair, which shattered on impact.

“Fuck!” Victor growled as another creature shoved into him, his eyes widened.

“Do not let it esc- ngggh-“ whatever Lab Coat had to say was interrupted d as the third creature grabbed at his torn red stained lab coat and into their body.

“Ignite” she shouted as she kicked the creature away and shoved her glowing palm into its bare grey chest. The creature screamed in agony, and flew back into the wall so hard the room reverberated with the sudden force. Metal screeched and groaned as the creature fell against the wall, violently gripping at his burning chest.

“Shit!” Victor bellowed as he struggled with his own attacker. Isabella rubbed at her knees and winced as she felt the cool treacle of blood as it dripped down her wrist from a shallow cut in her forearm.

The creature whipped its head toward her, and ceased its senseless clawing at its chest. Its head cocked to the side and its nostrils flared. Isabella shivered as the rabid vampire - or what perhaps used to be a vampire and was something… else entirely - raced toward her. It made contact with a sickening crack. Isabella howled in pain as she felt her leg bend unnaturally from the sheer force. Not broken, but close to it. Fractured likely.

“Kill it! Kill them all!” Lab Coat managed, as he tried hopelessly to kick and scratch and dodge the creature that chomped its jagged teeth towards his neck. Her desperately kept it away from good diamond flesh.

Victor mumbled something unintelligible as he finally, calmly punched a hole through the creatures chest, when it fell to the ground Victor stood with its dripping blackened heart in his hand.

Isabella sucked in a sharp breath as the creature licked at some of her blood that’d splattered onto its dirty hand. Her movement startled the creature and it snarled, showing sharp fangs - longer than any vampire she’d seen. Its eyes were entirely red, no pupil, no whites, no other colour - its veins were a deep grey almost black, skin leached of any colour it may have had before, it was like no vampire she’d ever seen before.

Isabella quickly stood and ignoring the flare of pain in her legs, she shot ball after ball of pure blue fire at the approaching creature. It screeched in pain but continued to stumble toward her - eyes alight with utter fury. Frenzied, excited to reach its meal. Isabel’s swallowed.

“What the fuck?” a light voice echoed from the door. Isabella’s head whipped toward it. She felt the sudden urge to sob as she made contact with the golden-inky black orbs of the intruder.

“Rose, go, get out-“ she bellowed, but the creature, after scenting the air, immediately turned toward the intruder and leapt toward her with a ferocious snarl on its chapped lips.

“Don’t let it bite you!” Lab Coat hollered. Victor and Isabella swerved toward the stunned blonde and the creature sped up- its blackened charred flesh hanging from its bones in areas where the fire had frayed it so thoroughly. Isabella hadn’t seen anything like this.

“Nononononono” she cried as Rosalie met her worried gaze, Isabella hadn’t the time to analyse how her eyes were a pretty brilliant blue, with flecks of violet and white like lightening or falling stars.

“Protect her!” Isabella screamed, pouring as much of her power as she dared into the spell - the command. She thrust both her hands out, her eyes momentarily closed and wet from unshed tears, her hands shone a brilliant bright blue light as her shield shimmered at the demand.

It was the only gift she’d had as a human and had since enhanced it significantly, it was her most powerful ability - and she gave it all to Rosalie. She’d never been able to do so before, no matter how hard she’d begged the stubborn magic to leave its source - but it did. Almost eagerly, she watched it in wonder as it floated out of her body and raced toward the blonde at an impossible speed.

It cast a shimmering blue light around the stunned woman and Isabella stood their mouth open as the creature slammed into… nothing.

It snarled and growled as it clawed at Rosalie, only to scrape against a barely invisible thing… her shield. It howled it fury as she approached the creature, mindful that she was far more vulnerable since she’d been human - and she knew her eyes shone their bright, glowing green.

“Ignite!” She whispered and the creature lit up in huge flames of brilliant blue, its remaining flesh singed and cracked immediately as its venom seeped from its broken body. And it ignited, staggering back as flickering blue and red flames sear over its flesh.

She quickly drew a protection rune on her open wrist and huddled into a corner as the creature flapped and flayed, its steps pausing and slowing. Until it thudded to the ground, an unrecognisable heap of flesh and blood and venom and bone and ash.

“Shit” Victor shouted as he leapt over the carnage and pile of bodies, one still smoking, just as the final vampire sank its teeth into Lab Coats neck. Isabella had never seen a vampire actively feed from another vampire before. It wasn’t possible, it wasn’t natural. She stayed crouched, clutching her wrist to her chest, her eyes scanned over Lab Coat as Victor wrestled ferociously with the creature.

“Help me!” Victor begged, the large man struggled as he wrenched the vampire from the neck. When it was finally detached, it’s eyes rolled into the back of it its head, “Isabella, kill it, use your fire, fuck, it’s going to - oooof” the creature snapped its head towards Victor and screamed, an unnatural high pitched sound that made her ears bleed. She shot her hand out with gritted teeth and at the last moment shifted it towards Rosalie.

A thin barrier formed, keeping Rosalie from moving into the room further. Isabella sensed a great, terrifying presence as the creatures eyes snapped towards her. It twisted the hand Victor used to hold it, with a sharp snap, Victor hissed in pain.

“You ssssmell…power” it whisper-hissed. It advanced toward her, she stumbled backwards, and ignored Rosalie’s violent pounding against the barrier. “Must have, must taste, must take” it continued, eyes void like death.

“You want power?” She said through gritted teeth, blood dripped from her mouth, “then take it!” She screamed as she threw wave after wave of her power towards the creature. It stood immobilised as it took every hit with barely a grunt. Isabella withheld a whimper as its ruby red eyes locked onto her and then glanced over towards Rosalie.

Isabella watched in horror as its flesh singed and charred. And then healed over.

“First, want” it paused, head cocked, “you. Take, have, tassssste” it licked its lips. Staring directly at Rosalie. Rosalie shivered, eyes wide and horror filled.

“Not gonna happen” Isabella growled, voice like smoke. Isabella planted her feet and fell down into the very depths of her power. The creature, that was and was not a vampire, met her wild gaze and it…it smirked.

“Isabella, run, please, come back here, you fucker, come for me! You want me!” Rosalie’s eyes glowed a violent blue as she pounded on the shimmering barrier.

Isabella stroked at a tiny thin lined tattoo along along her inner arm, nestled in-between vines of leaves and a proud stag.

“Please work” she whispered, begged. Silence greeted the room, as Isabella pulled a long, silver sword from thin air. She’d never used it before after Orion had helped her with the spell to craft and then conceal it, she swore to never use it unless absolutely necessary. She had a lot of training, but had a long way to go to call herself a master at it. Indeed, it was a rare, ancient weapon crafted from Orion’s last remaining home materials - powerful beyond understanding. And only she could utilise it.

It was utterly inconceivable that this magic was actually working, she briefly felt Orion’s surprise and pride course through her as she gripped the sword with a newfound strength and purpose and she swiftly, and efficiently plunged it deep into the creatures chest. She twisted it violently and she secretly relished in the sickening sound it made. As she gripped the overwhelming urge to shout ‘mine’ at the creature who dared to try and take Rosalie Hale from her.

The sword sank through its black heart like butter. It stumbled and slumped to the floor immediately, silent as the dead. She fell to the floor beside it, energy zapped from her as her body shook violently. She closed her eyes and spat blood from her mouth.

“Gross” she muttered.

“Doctor Haviliard” Victor said softly, as the doctor frantically pushed several buttons on the large console that made her think of Star Trek for some reason.

“Hush, I have a few minutes - call Asterin” he said, eyes wild, “tell her, tell Miss Swan everything” he emphasised, “she can help, I know that now. For once, Aro was right” he gripped at his torn throat and hissed in pain. He was near frantic in his quick movements.

“Doc…”

“Apologies that I haven’t been able to debrief you myself Doctor Swan” he ignored Victor’s void expression, “this is bigger than us Victor, make sure he knows”.

“Maybe we can-“

“Hush boy, we both know what must be done” Lab Coat smiled sadly, resigned. Before he gripped the console and grunted in agony, “now, it must be now. Please”

“I-“ Victor stood, immobile.

“I gave you an order soldier” Lab Coat growled.

“Yes, sir” Victor mumbled.

Isabella sucked in a breath as her shield rushed into her, she felt an immediate comfort at the returned weight. Rosalie was suddenly at Isabella’s side, dried blood tracks down her cheeks as she inspected Isabella with trained eyes. Isabella smiled, and tucked a strand of matted blonde hair behind her ear.

“Hi” she said dumbly. “I told you to leave” she sighed, “I’m glad you stayed” she admitted, as she bit her lip.

“Oh you idiot!” Rosalie admonished, “you foolish, foolish fucking idiot, I couldn’t have left you here…thank god I- but you’re okay” her eyes had hardly any gold left as she glanced over Isabella’s visible wounds. “You’re okay” she repeated, as though whispering a prayer.

“Hard to kill, not impossible obviously but jeez did that hurt” Rosalie gave her a very hard, unamused glare as her fingers ghosted softly across her arms. Isabella allowed herself the luxury of leaning into the blonde, deciding that it was because her energy was so depleted and not because she felt safer, happier when she was touching the blonde.

“Special indeed” the doctor whispered barely audible and Isabella cocked her head in confusion, “hold onto her, Miss Swan. Now Victor, farewell my friend” he nodded.

Before anyone could utter a word or move an inch, Victor reached into Victor’s chest and pulled his heart out, the body immediately fell to the floor. Victor mechanically and swiftly gathered the remaining bodies into a pile at the far side of the room.

“Ignite” Isabella muttered and pointed her shaking hand toward the pile. Victor bobbed his head in thanks as the pile lit up, and the red flames licked at the bodies greedily.

The room remained silent, as they watched the bodies slowly turn to ash. Rosalie had long since wrapped an arm around Isabella in silent comfort. After what felt like hours, Isabella’s energy had improved, though she’d need a long nap and some food to replenish her energy fully. The amount of magic she’d wielded was insane, but she hadn’t the energy to think on that. Not when she was sitting in Rosalie’s lap. Especially when she was sitting in Rosalie’s lap.

~

“What the fuck is going on?” Isabella questioned calmly. Victor sighed. “What were those things and don’t lie to me” Rosalie tightened her hold around her.

“We honestly don’t know” Isabella rolled her eyes at the answer, Rosalie unknowingly stroked reassuring lines into her hand, Isabella decided she quite liked it.

“Victor-“

“About eight or so months ago, a small coven came across a crazed vampire, it had fed its way through an entire town, the Kings were informed and the creature was captured and sent here” Victor huffed and paced around the room, “It was an adult vampire, we got it identified by someone who thought they knew him before… they used to be a normal vampire. Until they weren’t. We were ordered by the Kings to uncover what it had become. Discreetly” he added.

“And, what did you find out?” Rosalie dared to ask.

“Not much for a while. It was absolutely feral of course, but we found it enjoyed, uh, vampire blood. And our venom made it stronger, impossibly so. It took three vampires to restrain it after it’d attacked a scientist” he mumbled, “That’s how, we found that a bite from the creature, well, it turned us into one of the brainless demons” he rubbed at his temple, “That’s when the experiments…uh…intensified.

Were we witnessing a different species of vampire? They hardly spoke, we couldn’t gather if they were truly mindless - until one figured out how to manipulate a guard. It learnt his behaviour, figured the weaknesses. Then we knew. They were dangerous, more intelligent, and more powerful than us” he sagged against the console. “That’s when word of the increased vampire attacks outside started to reach us, remote humans and even shifters…completely ravaged” he scratched his fingers over his stubbled chin, “they didn’t discriminate on species it would seem, but we found they do prefer vampires to feed upon”

“Why the fuck am I only being brought into this shit show now?” Isabella seethed. Rosalie rubbed at her back in soft little circles, so many questions in her eyes but she remained a silent observer.

“I don’t know okay? We don’t know much. But well, we believe we may have found and captured the original source of these new creatures. And have either killed or captured the rest” he moved toward the console and pushed a button. Isabella struggled to her feet, Rosalie assisted her to stumble toward the mirror. As Victor pushed the last little button, the mirror changed to show a small empty room, no, cell - a simple cot, and desk were the only furniture.

“We call it, and it’s subsequent creations - creature dei dannati [creature of the damned] portatori di morte ai morti [bringers of death to the dead]”

Bit dramatic, she thought. Isabella leaned heavily against the console, as she stared into the cell and her eyes widened. Sweat pooled down her back and shivers slithered down her spine. Rosalie merely gasped in abject horror.

“You have an immortal child!” Rosalie hissed.

“No, we do not. That thing is something else entirely”

Isabella ignored the pair as she stared into the cell, suddenly a pair of blood red eyes met hers. The Damned Creature seemed to have no issue finding Isabella’s eyes. The boy sat on the very edge of the bed, his back ramrod straight and small hands folded on his lap.

He appeared to have been no older than seven or eight, bald, with black veins beneath its red eyes and around its neck. Isabella struggled to sense any emotion whatsoever from the creature. All animals, all earths creatures usually had some kind emotion, fear, love, hatred…

“Stars” she whispered, terrified.

The creature, as though it heard her, and delighted in her fear, smirked. The sinister grin seemed to echo ‘I’ve been waiting for you’.

“Strigoi” she whispered, hoping she was was wrong, Orion seemed to balk at the word but from their shared memory - this seemed an accurate deduction.

The creature’s smirk widened into a wicked grin. It would seem the terrifying creature enjoyed its newly given name…

Chapter Text

Chapter 26:
Pretend

~ Rosalie ~

Growing up during the 1930s in an affluent household and family, Rosalie Hale had been conditioned to become rather self absorbed and entitled.

Her father, a brutal, calculated man, gambled with his families happiness with the mere potential of collecting more power by whatever means necessary.

He was a moorish man, and no matter what lengths his wife and only daughter took to secure him his riches and respected name, they never could reach the man’s unobtainable aspirations.

And so, Rosalie was taught to manipulate a situation and a person to her advantage long before she reached double digits in age. She was rather good at it for she couldn’t be anything less than perfect at something her father quietly demanded of her.

“Remember you are a Hale, Rosalie, we will always belong at the very top, everything you do represents our good name” he’d lament to his daughter when she’d had less than a perfect piano or math lesson.

This wisdom usually followed a good beating, of course, never where anyone could see the results of these lessons. But she would several days later, observe her bruised skin as it turned from an angry black and blue, to yellow and green until the angry splatters faded entirely. Though never from her memory, but her body, it was always eager to forge.

Indeed, every perceived mistake, every failure, and she would be painted black and blue for weeks on end. Oftentimes when she was older, Rosalie would gaze at her body in the mirror, as a girl was wont to do, and the angry bruises hardly bothered her.

Instead, she’d poke and prod at her abdomen, inspect her skin, her eyes, her hair - to ensure her continued perfection. Her father painted her body black and blue whenever he saw fit, this she could not control, but she could control how much she ate, how much she worked to get the right muscle definition and mastering makeup techniques to elevate her beauty all the more.

Rosalie may have been moulded into an outwardly terrible person truly, a submissive little miss who knew when to bow her head and avert her eyes - but the fire in her belly, the kindness in her heart and the curiosity in her mind burned infinitely.

She held onto small mercies, tiny joys - Genevieve, Natalia, Gus her butler and music teacher, her hidden books where she lost herself to world worse or better than her own and later, to her dream of becoming a mother where she would be kinder than her own. She would encourage curiosities, arts, learning, movement, healthy relationships with food and family and friends.

Her mother had given her some stellar advice when she was but ten and one, the only useful and memorable advice she’d ever received from the hard, absent woman:

“you should be more amenable to hiding your emotions daughter and pretend, you’ll thank yourself in the long run” Lilian had whispered conspiratorially whilst tugging Rosalie’s dressing gown sleeve to cover the newest bruising on her upper arms. Then Lillian Hale been dragged from her bedroom with a wide smile, which didn’t quite reach her cold eyes, by her drunken pig of a father to do gods only knew what.

But alas, Rosalie Hale had big feelings. She always had. Perhaps because she stubbornly held onto her curious mind, and hopes and dreams, or perhaps because she couldn’t help but care.

She’d tried to wrestle control of them, not to cry so much when her parents berated and beat her, not to outwardly pity the abused servants and to blatantly ignore the awful Great Depression raging outside her doors.

She did so, by pretending.

Bruises and her beloved books were hidden, smiles were tight yet bright. She stopped wrecking her pretty face from her sobs before a big dinner party, and instead pinched her upper legs, under arms or stomach. She became the picture of perfection, hair long and gold and styled just so, figure slim and feminine.

She hid her eating habits, sometimes eating no more than a few apples per day for weeks on end until her stomach cramps put her in a hospital bed where doctors poked and prodded her, claiming she was ‘suffering an affliction of the mind’. perhaps her eventual demise was punishment for all of her pretending, because she became so good at it, that she could seldom recall when she was faking and when she was her genuine self.

She was beautiful, untouchable, and entitled. What did it matter if she ate and exercised well, or added a few more bruises to her skin?

She was untouchable and indifferent, cold like her mother taught her to be, beautiful like her father demanded. Indeed, Rosalie’s world had no room for her big emotions, so she pretended she didn’t have any at all. Rosalie questioned who her genuine self even was as she exhaled her last breath as a human being.

Except it remained the problem that when she felt, she continued to feel big. When she cared, she cared a lot, when she was angry, she seethed. When she hated a person - oh, she loathed them. And when she was jealous, she was blinded and consumed by it like a filled to the brim furnace - she burned and burned and burned until she could burst into flames and smoke.

So she hid, and she nipped her skin, and she read her books, and she developed a rather admittedly unhealthy relationship with food. She pretended that her big emotions were inconsequential, for she was Rosalie Hale, an untouchable, incomprehensibly beautiful woman with a future brighter than the flames that burned within.

Except, she died. She was dead. She was killed at the tender age of two and twenty. Murdered in cold blood. Abducted, abused, humiliated, and abandoned. Left bleeding in an ally like a common rat, as forgettable and expendable as the vermin in her walls. Up until her very last breath, Rosalie Hale had wondered what the point of it all had been.

Still, her big, terrified, incensed, heart wrenching emotions kept her company as she stared up at the starry sky and waited to die.

Of course, she wasn’t given the mercy of death and so Rosalie Hale was forced to take extreme measures against her enhanced emotions, amplified by her new disposition. Funny how life works.

She became so very, very good at pretending in her new life, perhaps even better than her human existence. Every indifferent scoff, every barbed and clipped word, each brick piled onto another and another until only high walls surrounded her, to create the facade that Rosalie Hale was an ice queen, an unfeeling, untouchable and indestructible being of indifference. It had worked so well.

Until didn’t.

It’s difficult to identify the precise moment when Rosalie’s control over her big emotions slipped and when her clipped words and icy demeanour grew tiresome.

One might argue, losing her control over her emotions was as inevitable as the sun setting, given she was an immortal, no one had absolute control forever.

Not even Rosalie Hale.

Perhaps, especially not Rosalie Hale.

And so, a natural crescendo in the form of Emmett McCarty, the boy who’d battled a bear with his bare hands and lived to tell the tale, the same boy who’d dared to love Rosalie Hale - ice queen herself - and his sudden abandonment of her for his true mate. She didn’t truly know, such was the burden of managing her very suppressed, very big emotions.

What she did know? When Isabella revealed herself as supernatural, her control slipped all the more. She’d lied and it hurt. Rosalie Hale, despite every alarm bell ringing in her supernaturally gifted ears, had ran into that building after the brunette like a woman possessed. Following the insanity that she witnessed soon thereafter, she’d swiftly cycled through several big emotions in such quick succession that she was left near catatonic.

Anger, that boiled her very venom. Pain, that seared her shrivelled soul. Betrayal, that reshaped her heart. Jealously, that burned her insides like fire. Fear, worry, terror…to name but a few.

She was angry at Isabella, but she was also so very mad at herself. There she was putting herself out there, letting her guard down if only a little, following her idiotic heart only to find she’d been deceived. There she’d been, tentatively reaching her shaking hand out, only to grasp at nothingness. That’s what you get for following a dead organs lead! She sighed internally.

She wanted to berate herself for her lack of self preservation, after all she’d learnt in her long life. And for what? Some girl she’d known less than forty-eight hours prior. She barely stopped a crazed giggle from exploding out of her dry throat. You couldn’t write this little addition to Rosalie Hale’s life story! She thought bitterly.

Oh how she longed to find Alice Cullen, disown her finally to her face and then drop her immediately into an active volcano. Or maybe she’d tear her limb from limb and bury the parts across all seven continents. For she just knew Alice must’ve seen this, she had to. And all she’d given her dear sister, was a useless ‘be brave’ sms message.

Fucking, Alice.

Oh but Alice would need to muster some of her own bravery after Rosalie was through with the pixie. Jasper would be finding his mates body parts everywhere for years to come.

The soldiers’ wrath would be worth enduring, so long as she knew Alice Cullen, the tiny loathsome creature, was in itty bitty pieces scattered around the globe with no map to speak of.

She couldn’t help the wicked smirk that stretched across her mouth before she shook her head and wiped it away.

“Rosalie?” She snapped her head towards the whispered sound.

Isabella sat cross-legged on an old couch in the office they’d not long shifted to. The brunette looked absolutely exhausted and her body lightly shook with the effort to keep her awake, yet her concern for Rosalie was evident in the softness of her tired eyes. Could she even sleep? Of course she can, no one can fake sleeping that well for heavens sake!

“Hm? Sorry I was…”

“Oceans away?” Isabella smiled knowingly, and Rosalie prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation, instead she merely nodded tight lipped and eyes vacant. “I don’t really blame you, today was a lot” Isabella said with a little sigh and a quick and gentle tap on Rosalie’s knee.

Isabella’s hands shook slightly and her brow furrowed in concern despite the complex churning of her internal very big, very confusing emotions.

“Um, I asked if you were alright, well, obviously you’re not duh, but… uh, well, the creature, it didn’t touch you did it?” Her eyes had returned to an almost hazel colour, and they held such worry in them that Rosalie was fighting the strange urge to swoon.

How embarrassing, she was angry with the woman, make no mistake but she was also endeared by her misplaced concern. It was confusing, Rosalie was not very great at regulating her emotions, so accustomed to burying them.

It’s like the lid was finally torn off her carefully crafted cage, and her pesky emotions were running riotously throughout her body and mind.

She was left helpless, trying desperately to put the lid on, lock the cage and control herself once more but, Isabella smiled sadly at her and she simply, couldn’t do it. She was feeling too much, and was overwhelmed by it all.

“The creature did not touch me,” she added, her tone cool and indifferent.

“Right, good -“

“Are you alright?” Rosalie enquired, her eyes narrowing on the fidgety brunette.

“Me? Oh yeah, just peachy” Isabella groaned, Rosalie levelled a disbelieving glare at the brunette “don’t look at me like that, all pitiful and angry” she pleaded halfheartedly.

Rosalie merely folded her arms across her chest, though her expression softened considerably.

“This is just my face, Isabella” she offered, mildly exasperated.

“Ha! Well you could’ve fooled me,” was the tired but snarky response. The nerve of this woman! Rosalie cocked an unamused pale eyebrow “I’m sorry that was unfair” the brunette added sheepishly, Rosalie rolled her eyes, annoyed and pointedly ignored her useless stomach flip flopping at Isabella’s absolutely un-adorable expression on her ridiculously beautiful face.

Curse her!

“Why did you lie?” Rosalie dared to ask, her voice quiet, reflecting the rarpity of her vulnerability. Isabella’s eyes flashed with something indecipherable for a moment before she rolled her shoulders.

“I didn’t lie…I just didn’t tell you that I was supernatural” she said simply.

“Lying by omission is still lying, Isabella” she offered, words like knives through human flesh, “Did you really think it was fair, to keep that part of yourself hidden when we shared…or were you not willing to risk being able to get into my pants?” She asked, anger entering her tone. Isabella had the decency to flinch at least.

“What, no! I- Rose, that wasn’t remotely my intention, I just- I liked you okay? I wanted to pretend I was human a little longer surly you can understand that? I never thought I’d see you again” she ran a shaking hand through her hair, “at least not so soon” she added quietly.

“Oh, so you wished to use me to address your curiosity?”

“No! I mean- Look, I didn’t tell you about my supernatural-uh-ness because frankly, I thought you’d be a one night stand. You can’t tell me that I was unclear about my intentions? I mean I was leaving the very next morning, only passing through town…” the implication that this was somehow Rosalie’s fault was not lost on her and Rosalie’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the woman. 

“Regardless, I deserved to know, it was shitty of you to be intimate with me and hide behind a lie…and I think you know that.” Isabella opened her mouth but Rosalie held a single finger up, immediately silencing the woman, “you’re right on one regard, I did trust you at your word, and that error is entirely my mistake to own,” Isabella deflated slightly, “rest assured Isabella, I won’t make the same mistake again” her voice was as cold and detached from the many years of practiced pretending. Isabella visibly flinched at the words.

“Rose- I didn’t intend to hurt you”

“It’s done, you don’t need to…”

“Intention does matter, Rose” she pleaded, her eyes clouded with something very close to worry.

“It does” Rosalie said, “yet it hurt all the same” she whispered.

The women were silent for several long moments, as they digested the words that were and were not said. Once more gold eyes and green met in the silence, one pair reflecting cold indifference, the other, regret and exhaustion.

No one dared breathe, or move, or speak - not even the silent sentry who’d witnessed the exchange with barely veiled attention. Victor recognised the hurt that echoed in the pretty blondes cold glare, and the genuine regret emanating from the freaky brunette.

Despite the blondes barbed responses, Victor’s dead heart recognised another guarded soul when he saw one. And though he knew little to nothing on the matter, he felt confident that misunderstandings of those who cared for one another looked and felt a lot like what he saw before him.

One stubborn back sitting ramrod straight, hands folded tightly over her chest, gold eyes narrowed, throat itchy. The other, back hunched and eyes tired and regretful, arms folded around her knees.

But most importantly, Victor thought, was the fact that neither woman appeared to note how close they’d naturally sat together, or how one pair of eyes searched over every crevice of the other for any sign of discomfort or pain.

Or how, no matter how tight her arms were folded, fingers minutely twitched with the repressed need to reach out to the other, pull her into her and hold her tight.

To never let her go.

Vampire mating is really fucking whacky, he thought, as his eyes catalogued every minute movement of the powerful women before him. Both blindly dancing around one another, daring the other to cross the others path but unwilling to do so themselves. Victor sighed. 

“All that power, and absolutely no sense” he mumbled, so low even the stubborn women wouldn’t hear him.

“Shouldn’t we get to the uh, strigoi?” Victor queried, and brown eyes snapped to him as if Isabella had forgotten the vampire was even there.

“Yes, I need to-“ the woman yawned, “make some urgent-“ another yawn, mouth covered by a slightly shaking hand “calls” Rosalie’s whole being seemed to stir uncomfortably as she watched as Isabella struggled to stay awake and upright, the woman fiddling with her cell.

Just how much energy had she used with all that fire? She pondered worriedly.

Isabella may have pissed her off, considerably, but she wasn’t a monster, well, maybe she was - she couldn’t not help her…right?

After all, Isabella had saved Rosalie’s life, it seemed only fair she helped her out this once. Rosalie was resolved, as she metaphorically attempted to slam a lid over her big emotions, frustrated at the excitement that she’d be spending more time with the vexing brunette. The vexing, lying brunette. With pretty green eyes like the forest. What a mess! She thought, self deprecation coming easy to her.

“You should head in to town, nothing can be done from here right now, yes?” Isabella simply blinked in confusion, and Victor was too stunned to speak. “You need food and rest, or you’ll do no good with whatever mess this fool needs your assistance with” Rosalie said her tone considerably softer, daring the brunette to argue.

Victor merely sat on a rickety wooden chair, and rolled his eyes internally, the blonde was fiercely protective and she had absolutely no idea, he puffed some air from his lungs in a little sigh as he watched on.

“I- yeah, fine, are you uhm...”

“I’ll accompany you” Rosalie said and the brunettes eyes brightened ever so slightly, “I have to pick up my car anyway” she added. Isabella deflated, but nodded. 

“All that power…” Victor murmured exasperated at the retreating women’s back. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 27:

There’s hope in the silence, if you listen hard enough 

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze
My footsteps on the ground
You'll see my face in every place
But you can't catch me now
Through wading grass, the months will pass
You'll feel it all around
I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere
But you can't catch me now ~ you can’t catch me now, Olivia Rodrigo 

~ Isabella ~

Isabella slumped against the headboard in the tiny room Rosalie had acquired for them, inside an unremarkable but clean and comfortable tiny hotel within the little town. She was tired down to her marrow, Orion’s worry filtered frantically through their shared bond as her eyelids fought to remain open.

But she had to be strong, too much was at stake. She had to confront this problem that’d grown arms and legs and heads and tentacles since her first encounter with Cecile. For she was near positive that the nefarious witch was connected to the possible re-creation of the strigoi.

An absolutely terrifying sub-species of vampire that were eradicated a very, very long time ago. The result was many lives lost, not to mention the great power used to finally rid the world of the ruthless Strigoi. What insane person would resurrect them? Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the answer floating around in her mind: Cecile. That’s who. She sighed as her eyes stung with irritation from her refusal to rest. But how could she sleep when her mind was running wild with everything she’d missed? Really though, she never would’ve guessed Cecile would resurrect these creatures, they are uncontrollable, and above all else, Cecile liked favoured control. What was she missing?

Indeed, this puzzle was more complex than she’d realised, with the arena far larger - blind spots everywhere where she’d couldn’t see. She was convinced that not all of the key players were revealed or understood - just dark shapes and faceless people waiting in the shadows to strike.

Then there was Rosalie. Isabella Swan was not an idiot, she understood this world and the threads fate wove. Especially where world defining moments approached and were concerned. Why was this vampire placed so firmly in her path? And why now?

The blonde vampire was hurting, from unknown wounds long since drawn over her heart and Isabella was certain she had contributed to those scars. Yet, she remained unconvinced that her actions warranted such a strong reaction. Although, Rosalie’s mood had changed from fury and hurt to a merely frosty, falsely indifferent exterior. She was being protective of herself, understandably. And though Isabella had her own scars to guard, this didn’t mean she didn’t care about others’ pain.

Isabella scoffed softly, why was she so concerned with Rosalie Hale and her hurt feelings - that she was convinced weren’t all her doing anyway - when she had the whole world crumbling down around her? Her priorities needed a serious recalibration. Orion’s mild incredulity filtered through their bond and she rolled her eyes.

“Not you too” she mumbled.

“What was that?” Rosalie asked, her brows knitted together adorably as she briefly looked over from an old magazine she’d borrowed from the reception area. Rosalie sat straight backed on her own single bed closest to the door.

“Nothing” she sighed as Rosalie pursed her lips and returned her attention to the magazine, completely unaware that she’d not turned a single page in the last ten minutes. Stubborn vampire, Isabella thought. She could practically hear Orion’s ‘pot, kettle’ accusation and she groaned in frustration.

“Sure” Rosalie sighed and her golden eyes searched Isabella’s face silently, Isabella wondered what she was looking for. “Why aren’t you sleeping, Isabella?” Isabella smiled tiredly, rolled onto her side and propped her head against her hand to casually stare at the gorgeous woman sitting rigidly on her own bed, blonde eyebrow quirked slightly.

“Why are you so concerned with my sleeping habits, Rose?” She smirked, unable to keep her playful tone at bay. Rosalie rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but Isabella was sure if Rosalie were human, her cheeks would burn with a light blush.

“I don’t care,” she said curtly “yet you clearly need rest,” her eyes drank in Isabella’s exhausted body with slight concern in her eyes “you look like death” Rosalie answered cooly.

“Ouch.” Isabella gripped her chest with her free hand as she feigned being wounded. Rosalie merely scoffed, her upper lip twitching with the force of withholding her smile. “We can’t all look like super models in our afterlife y’know” Rosalie stared at her in confusion, utterly bewildered, her full lips parted in a little ‘o’, Isabella giggled, enjoying teasing the vampire more than she’d care to admit. She sighed, taking pity on the woman, she quietly and reluctantly answered the real question, “I can’t sleep right now”.

“And why not?”

“Because monsters are being resurrected not three miles from here” she said dryly, her eyes unfocused as her mind whirred, trying desperately to connect the dots. But she couldn’t see them all, “it has to be connected but I can’t….” Isabella stared blankly at the wooden door behind Rosalie, her throat dry and sore suddenly as she worried her lower lip.

“Have you figured out what or who is connecting everything?” Rosalie asked carefully, the blondes attention entirely on Isabella, despite the way she half hid behind her magazine. Isabella suspected this was part of the woman’s armour - a facade.

“No. I need to figure it out. It could significantly improve my chances of fighting and surviving whatever horrors are coming.” And they were coming, of that she had no doubt. Isabella sighed and rolled onto her back defeated. She stared blankly at the white flaking paint on the ceiling.

“How do you know something bad is coming, are you psychic or something?” Isabella met Rosalie’s accusatory golden gaze, and she couldn’t help but snort humourlessly. If only.

“Sadly not” Isabella answered “but nothing that’s happening is purely coincidental, this world doesn’t operate that way” she said distractedly before clearing her throat and meeting Rosalie’s questioning expression.

“A witch or a demon?” Rosalie’s brow furrowed in confusion- it was so adorable that Isabella couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head at the woman. “But you are something ?” Isabella laughed wryly.

“I do belong in your world, correct” Rosalie scoffed in frustration, her tighter hold on the magazine causing it to tear slightly. “Our threads are connected somehow,” she sighed deeply “another puzzle to solve…” she mumbled. Rosalie levelled her with a puzzled frustrated expression. Orion’s amusement flickered in her mind and she rolled her eyes internally. Her babbling has confused the vampire again.

“Sorry, my studies indicate that our current reality is made up of millions of threads that are tied together, some of these threads create knots - and all of these weave together to form our reality” She inhaled, “our choices create nearly infinite possibilities.

The supernatural world, and those existing within and just outside of its sphere, are intimately connected. Though there may be infinite threads of possibilities, it doesn’t negate the fact that those same threads are there, however they came to be, to choose from. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you like, but there is a level of autonomy…

To simplify, if I am given 3 types of fruit and can choose only one, there’s autonomy of my choice of fruit…”

“But not on the options of fruit that you were given?” Rosalie asked quietly.

Isabella nodded “right! So there are big moments that shape our realities, big choices that key people must make, and when these moments and associated dangers approach, we - the supernatural - feel them” Isabella tapped her chest with two fingers, Rosalie’s eyes tracked the movement and she slowly bit her lower lip “a warning. Like animals have an innate ability to sense when danger is nearby, not listening to their instincts could get them killed - they are tuned to their world, every moment or thread and knot, however big or small, all bleed together to form the final picture. But it’s always moving, all those choices, connected and changing the environment and world every moment.

But that warning we feel, it can mean the difference between life or death. Predator and prey. It might feel like a little prickle on the back of your neck, or your eyes unable to close for fear of becoming too vulnerable” Isabella explained.

“Survival instincts?” Rosalie questioned incredulously “Isabella, I’m an apex predator, top of the food chain…” the blonde  rolled her eyes. Isabella stared into her gold eyes - right to her soul - so intensely that she felt the world around them grow eerily still.

“Not anymore,” she whispered, “don’t you feel it?” Rosalie inadvertently shivered and averted her eyes briefly to the torn magazine in her lap and to the door and little window.

“I’m sure fairy tales and nonsensical superstitious tales of boogy men wouldn’t help anyone sleep” Rosalie added.

Isabella chuckled coldly, if she had a dime for every time someone dismissed her lessons and knowledge and warnings as spooky, make-believe stories, she’d be a billionaire. And certainly more people would still be alive today had they only listened to her. The thought of Rosalie becoming one of those unmoving faces that haunted her every waking and sleeping moment made her feel physically sick. Curious, indeed. She thought.

“Believe whatever you like, Rosalie, but when its time, please don’t ignore that little voice inside of you that screams for you to run, it might just save your life,” Isabella whispered quietly. Several minutes of silence followed as the pair digested the heavy words and heavier atmosphere in the little room.

“Fine, for arguments sake, say I believe-whatever insanity you just said…” Rosalie waved a dismissive hand around the room “Who decided that you be the person to fix all of it?”

“That’s a more complicated question than you know, princess” she smiled sadly and her heart lurched as Rosalie once more fought the urge to react with a barely there smile, instead, the blonde frowned. “I have a responsibility, and it’s one I gladly accepted. No take backs, I’m afraid” she clarified with a halfhearted shrug, Rosalie frustratingly sighed through her nose.

“You are complicated, Isabella” Rosalie added, her tone accusatory, and her golden eyes hard and calculating. Isabella grinned.

“Normal is overrated and boring” she winked and both women ignored the way Rosalie’s eyes stared hungrily at Isabella’s lips. Isabella stared at the blonde, her heart hammering in her chest as Rosalie’s scent engulfed her.

Silence.

Two creatures stared quietly at one another, trying to decide what to say or do next. Rosalie’s face didn’t betray a single emotion, despite them raging inside of her. Curiosity, frustration, fear, concern, longing…all cycled through the vampire despite her blank, cold expression.

Maybe, just maybe, she could fix whatever hurt she’d unknowingly caused the woman, start again…

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry that my actions hurt you, truly.” She rested her palm over her heart, hoping to convey her sincerity. She sucked in a deep breath,  “maybe, um, one day you might forgive me?” Rosalie scoffed “we might even be something like friends one day…” she didn’t dare breathe or hope too loudly.

Scared she might frighten Rosalie away like a skittish little kitten. A myriad of emotions raged through the blonde, too quickly for Isabella to recognise. Isabella turned her head away to resume her blank staring towards the ceiling.

Though, she’d certainly enjoyed exploring the vampires sinfully beautiful body and the way Rose had kissed her… she closed her eyes briefly, willing the sudden slight tingling  sensation in her lips to quit.

Despite their obvious attraction, it might be nice, she thought, to have Rosalie as a friend. If Rosalie chose to have her. And why did that scare her more than the demons and death that followed her wherever she went?

It was simple, both she and Orion knew the answer. Rosalie could still reject her and she’d never given anyone that chance, that power, not since... him. Not her family. Not Leah. Not Jacob. No one. This offer of rejection was a small crack in her armour and it fucking terrified her into a semi-stunned paralysing silence that made her chest ache.

The room remained deathly silent and still for a long time. Isabella’s anxiety from addressing the elephant in the room, by handing Rosalie the option of rejection right into her manicured fingers, rose to near excruciating levels.

“Maybe one day” Rosalie said quietly, finally. Isabella abruptly turned to face Rosalie once more, and her smile, while small, was as radiant as the morning sun greeting the surface of the sea. Isabella held her breath as Rosalie nervously - very uncharacteristically- tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and it lit a fire in her stomach she couldn’t fathom.

“Really?” She dared to query.

“I’m not usually the forgiving type Isabella, but I’m trying to be br…” Rosalie cleared her throat unnecessarily “I’m willing to try, but it might take a long time to-“ Rosalie cut herself off, her facial expression torn between genuine surprise and something bloomed in her bright, scared eyes, something sweet, something that looked a bit like hope. 

“We’ve got time” Isabella whispered, her voice cracking like the walls she’d built around her heart. Feeling that sticky, wonderful, foreign feeling of hope seep into the silly organ. 

“So it would seem” Rosalie said gently and Isabella felt like she’d been smacked in the centre of her chest with the force of the tender smile that Rosalie offered her. 

The women sat in comfortable silence for a long time, each quietly mulling over their conversation and thoughts of the future - until the world turned and night finally arrived.

Their respective levels of concern about the horrors clawing at their door all but forgotten as forest green was lost inside swirling, hopeful, golden amber.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28
Into the Ether part 1

~ Isabella ~

(In The Ether/Dreamscape - that night)

Orion sat on their usual bench on the lookout. Their face turned upwards towards the vast night sky and twinkling stars above; the dense trees and wildlife living within the vast space below were Orion’s only company, until Isabella gently perched beside her friend.

The pair remained silent, neither one prepared to disrupt the temporary quiet moment of peace, even if it was in the midst of a storm. She’d not complain, it was a welcome reprieve after the intensity of the last few days.

But they could not be silent and still forever, Isabella knew this despite the fact they were in their dreamscape. Although in practice, Isabella could remain here forever. It was not the first time she’d wished to hide here, her little safe space she’d carved for herself - where her friend remained. Everything was so messy and fucked up and she was quite frankly, overwhelmed. At least here , she was in control, of the environment, of her existence. It would be easier.

Orion sensed her emotions, as only xe could, and they rested their long fingers over her knee, Isabella recognised it for what it was: a silent and gentle offer of support and a small reprimand. She cannot hide in The Ether Dreamscape forever. Sometimes the hardest option was the only true option. Isabella sighed.

Their promise from the first time they’d met here flashed before her mind: you shall never be alone in this world Isabella Swan, I shall be with you, always .

“You can use your words here, O” she teased, “but thank you”. She truly was never alone. 

It was a scary prospect at the time, to never be truly alone, for her thoughts, feelings, desires, regrets, and life to be shared in full with another living creature and she was overwhelmed then, as they exchanged their first memories. Now? Now she could not imagine her existence without Orion.

They were every bit a part of her, as her own blood that ran red in her veins. As every particle and atom, every piece of stardust that made her Isabella Swan - she would not be without Orion. And Orion would not be without Isabella Swan.

Sharing her soul with this wonderful creature was the scariest and best thing to ever happen to her. It was a true test in humility, and in patience and it was healing. And an offer of unconditional love and acceptance, even when she felt that neither were deserved.

“You know how to comfort me, Ancient One” she said smirking. They called her Young One so she’d started to call them Ancient One, because one: it was funny and two: it ruffled Orion’s feathers. 

Perhaps in mild protest, or simply because her friend never tired of looking at them, Orion didn’t turn away from the twinkling stars and gases and comets and moon above, appearing a lot like they’d not heard her teasing words. She knew better. Orion shared her soul after all. Xe listened to her even deeper than she did.

“There is much to discuss and plan, Young One” they said finally, their strange voice of blended feminine and masculine almost sounded like a song whenever xe spoke. It remained, even now, equal parts alien as it was familiar to her. Comforting, always. 

“I’m sorry…for blocking you out, I- I didn’t want you to worry or your judgement - my own judgement” she corrected, shame flushing her face with warm blood, “and then at the lab…I panicked, O. All that training, all that power, and I almost- shit “ her voice uncharacteristically stumbled.

“You need never apologise for wishing for privacy, Young One” Orion’s voice echoed against the wind, a gift that they readily gave without thought, as though her want for privacy was irrefutable. Isabella nodded numbly. She noted how xe didn’t address the second half of her sentence, her blind panic when faced with such a dire scenario, she sensed Orion’s commentary would come soon. And this knowledge twisted a knot in her stomach. 

A slight melancholic aura engulfed the pair, and Isabella slumped against the wooden bench in defeat as the silence surrounded them once more.

“I should like to share a memory with you, if you would be amenable to it. I believe it will help” Orion suddenly said after several quiet moments where only the scuttling footsteps and hoots and chirps of the woodland creatures hidden beyond their periphery went about their lives.

“I don’t think now is the time for us to enter Stasis, we’d be left so vulnerable only miles from that creature…and, Rosalie, she-she is in danger every moment she remains with us”

There. A truth. A truth she did not wish to acknowledge or voice.

The first truth of the night.

Rosalie Hale could not stay with Isabella Swan - not even as her friend. Not right now. 

She’d need to get the stubborn, beautiful  blonde to leave her soon, even if she didn’t really want her to. Which was her second truth. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Rosalie Hale, not when she felt…something, something rare and scary and not wholly understood. 

But it was far too dangerous.

The trouble that was orbiting Isabella would soon crash into her, and when it did, those in her vicinity would burn right with her. Not many could withstand that type of fire, not many could survive the sheer destruction of such an event. She wasn’t even certain she could. And Rosalie couldn’t burn for her, she’d not allow it. The mere thought made her heart ache.

Still, these truths stung her like burns, scorching sizzling little blisters over her heart which will fester until she could not bear it. But most truths - especially where goodbyes accompanied them - were painful in some way, this is why the Fae used them as their main currency.

Hoarding truths and secrets and favours as though they were the shiniest of jewels - for what would a True Immortal do with gold and silver and gems and diamonds? The likes of which they had by the bucket load. But truths? Secrets? Desires? Favours? These they could do great many terrible things with indeed. And she was certain her confusing, complicated feelings she had towards Rosalie Hale were a secret she was keeping from herself. Feelings were complicated, and she’d hate for anyone to get hurt. 

Regardless, there was no hiding her feelings from Orion here, not really ever, but never, ever here . In their world between worlds, The Ether as Orion preferred to call it. She preferred dreamscape, given she could only really reach it when she slept - and so, it hadn’t seemed quite so otherworldly and scary for her once human mind to comprehend.

“It is one memory, you will be gone only tonight, your…friend will be safe. I have not asked you for anything in a long time Isabella, will you humour me this once?” Orion faced her, their otherworldly sincere eyes rested on her own, burning a hole in her resolve.

She was always struck with several emotions as she stared into her friend’s expressive beautiful eyes. Sometimes Isabella swore she could see constellations, though not of this universe, reflected in the swirling stormy orbs. They were absolutely mesmerising and she wished others could see her friend as she did. 

“Your puppy dog eyes are my Kryptonite and you know it, you devil” she teased, shoving into her friend’s solid shoulder.

How could she say no to this creature? The other half of her soul? Her friend who’d traversed the universe to find her, her friend who had seen such truly remarkable and terrible sights, her friend who had saved her, and whom she’d saved in return. Her friend whom she loved with a fierceness that burned brighter than the suns golden inferno.

Orion smiled earnestly at her. “Fine! But what about the Strigoi? And, my shield! It left me O, I panicked when that thing- stars, and it actually listened . It’s never done that, not even when I’ve begged it to. What are The Fates playing at? It’s all so-”

“Complicated” Orion interrupted, their four-fingered hand squeezed her shoulder in silent comfort and understanding.

“I was going to say fucked, but sure, that works” her smile certainly did not reach her eyes.

Orion’s own smile was solemn as they sighed deeply, concern etched into their usually stoic features. “Truthfully, I am concerned about the return of this evil too, if it has indeed returned” they ran a hand over their bald grey head, they were always both handsome and pretty and kept their glamour in place but in this moment, it slipped ever so slightly. And she’d once insisted Xe needn’t maintain their glamour, she thought Orion was epically stunning - if a little alien - in their true form. But they preferred to maintain its altered facade.

Isabella once thought Orion was unflappable, for they’d faced many great dangers and horrors both on this planet and not. But now? They looked scared and it frightened Isabella deeply. 

“This evil was thought to have been eradicated thousands of years ago…I do not know why or how it survived. Whatever their reasons and means, if the Strigoi are truly returned after so long, then this world is in grave danger. And I suspect we are to be at the centre of what is to come. We must prepare ourselves and our ally’s…” Isabella swallowed the sudden lump lodged in her throat as Orion’s warning blared in her ears.

That would be easier said that done, the supernatural world was made up of factions of creatures and most all of them distrusted one another - mostly, they despised the duplicitous vampire kings and had complex histories with them. And most none of them would remember the Steigoi, or the devastation they’d left in their wake. It would be no easy task to rally all of them to fight alongside one another as they’d done so many years ago. Isabella inhaled a sharp, shaky breath. 

“Shit” she cursed, her eyes widening “O- the last time the Strigoi walked this earth…” her chin wobbled and her fingernails cut painfully into her palms as the sudden unfiltered onslaught of sorrow and pain from Orion pulsed through her setting her teeth on edge. Xe nodded in lieu of answering, temporarily lost to the traumas from a time long ago.

Isabella turned Orion’s face, she gripped the back of their neck and placed theirs to hers. ‘I am here, you are safe’ she tapped each syllable out against the pale grey of their cold skin. The tidal wave of emotions subsided slowly and Orion gave her a watery thankful smile, accompanied by a shaky breath. Another promise.

“You have my gratitude as always, Young One, I am so very glad I found you” Orion admitted.

“As am I, you softie” truthfully, Isabella would experience the unbearable tortures she’d been subjected to by Victoria, the losses she’d suffered, ten times over if it lead her to Orion. It was a bittersweet, painful truth. As only the best ones were.

The Fae Folk would salivate at the many secrets and truths Isabella Swan stored in her shared mind and they’d very nearly begged her to share them when she’d visited them. It was the only reason they’d allowed her into their entrancing Realm in the first place.

And the only reason she’d been permitted to leave . Knowledge and secrets and truths were power, especially to the Folk. ultimately, did not wish to test her further. 

“We will figure it out, I won’t let my home and those we love be taken from us.” She said, the ‘not again’ hung in the air around them. And the fire in their shared soul licked at the scars of their shared traumas until only fire remained.

She thought of her friends, new and old, of the many creatures she’d met and cared for. Of the many places and creatures she’d yet to meet and go. Of the many humans that she’d sworn to protect. Orion tapped her neck.

Their broken heart may be battered and scarred but the tissue that scarred over was stronger . She was stronger. And they would defend this world with everything they had.