Right, first of all i feel an apology on my part should be made. With all the will and intention in the world i have wanted to write stuff and put it up. But between GCSE's and revision i can honestly say that i could not find the time.

This story was written half before i started revision and has been sitting for three monthes in the same way, after i came back round to doing it, i got stuck and could not get back into the swing of writing it, so started to write from two differnt parts. What i am trying to say is that although i have tried to smooth it out as much as possible this story might not flow very well.

I could say it was all intentional and it reflects Edward's disjoined thoughts at this time. But it wasn't so i wont.

Erm Pre Twiligh. No Bella.

Thats all i really have to say for now :)


(Edward Pov)

Our coven was a rarity, even amongst our own kind. Pieces of a world that ran parallel to the norm and just didn't quite fit in with the rest of the puzzle. Indeed separately these pieces painted a brighter picture, more civilized and less animalistic, but the effect seemed to be lost; so small and inconsequential when compared to the domineering bulk of it's oppressing brother.

It was our small shade of difference, an acuter sense of morals, a learned behavior passed onto us through Carlisle, that drove us to feed upon the blood of animals, eternally denying ourselves what we craved for most. It was for this simple reason why we could excel at living alongside humans, for reasonably short periods of time anyway, but when our pantomime age – for that's all it was, our place in the human world, nothing more than a well rehearsed act upon a stage – became to far fetched to reflect our real age and appearance, we has to move on for fear of being exposed.

This had it's advantages and disadvantages all the same. Some places were harder to leave than other, particular landmarks, buildings and scenery spots always seemed to draw the mind back and strike a sense of longing in ones unbeating heart.

I watched my fingers dance over the keys of my piano, their rhythm flawless as if they played from their own memory instead of mine. The notes flowed together, joining and complimenting each other as the melody of Esme's Favorite filled the house.

I heard for a moment, her pause upon the floor above and listen appreciatively. I knew she was smiling, even if I couldn't see it. I smiled in return.

Our reward for the life we had chosen? Compassion. Love. We were a family. Not just a coven.

My playing was usually a hobby undertaken in one of my better moods and despite it's reappearance today, I was tense. It was evident from my stiff posture and my complete stillness other than my fingers which flowed like water over the keys. It must have also been rolling off me in Tsunami sized waves, for the next moment all my own emotions were obliterated; replaced only by a blanketing calmness that was undeniably not my own. It was hard to resist as the false emotion lulled me into a state of relaxation. For a moment I contemplated not resisting; but then, I wasn't in the mood to be pacified, or at least not yet.

My fingers slowed, ending my playing with a gentle diminuendo as was in accordance to the piece. I sighed heavily, turning my head ever so slightly to the source of the calmness. I spoke with a careful but weary tone.

"Jasper, please."

All calm left me at once and the full force of my emotions came crashing back, seeming even more brutal now than they did before, especially compared to their comforting; if not short lived absence.

I couldn't blame him really, we were after all in the same room. I at the piano and he upon the white leather sofa with Alice, their arms, legs, fingers intertwined. Alice's head resting delicately upon his chest, their thoughts centered upon each other; annoyingly but sickeningly so.

"Sorry Edward," was his sincere reply. I could feel Alice's eyes upon me, watching warily like an overprotective mother cat, afraid at any one moment that someone might hurt her kittens. I nodded once before returning to my playing.

My family were on tenterhooks around me, they watched me from a distance, frightened perhaps that one wrong move would upset me – as it had been known to before. They were skittish and careful, almost like animals caged in the path of an approaching storm. It was painful for me to watch, but what hurt deeper than anything else, was that I had drove them to it. I was the cause.

My sour mood grew even more aggravated at this thought. I was ashamed of myself, ashamed and disappointed. My playing altered as my mood did. The notes became sharper, crisper and harder; they lost their rhythm until finally they came to sound like nothing more than the harsh tolls of a warning bell.

That's when all thoughts centered on me. Esme's of worry, Carlisle's intrigued with an edge of concern, Jasper's calculating, Alice's foreboding, Rosalie's annoyed with a tinge of smugness and Emmett's uncertain.

I couldn't take it. As my mind was assaulted with six vastly different trains of thought I closed my eyes. I could feel an unreasoned rage building inside of me spreading at an unprecedented pace, enveloping my whole body. Like evil it poisoned me. Even as I attempted to quell it I knew it was futile. It was driving me insane.

My fingers slammed down hard upon the keys – a move I knew I would regret later – as all my anger came to a head. It was not fair that they had to tread so delicately around me and I despised myself again for being the cause, but their concerned thoughts were too much to bare.

I abruptly stood, almost knocking the stool over in my haste to leave. Almost, but not quite.

"I'm going hunting," I announced to no-one in particular.

Emmett was at my side in a moment, Rosalie of course dogging his footsteps, stood by the door surveying us both closely.

"Want some company?" He grinned. It was a perfectly valiant gesture, while the others gave me a wide berth Emmett seemed more than happy to tackle my erratic and temperamental moods. I was more grateful for this than he could ever imagine.

I sighed, trying to reign in my temper – for simple civility sake at least – after all it was not Emmett's fault I was in such a foul mood, his vivid thoughts on occasion did not help, but he was not the cause.

"Not tonight." My tone still sounded testy even to my own ears, so I offered up a compromise.

"Perhaps some other time?"

The disappointment was evident in his features, although he did well to hide it. My sorrow seeped deeper as he smiled and shrugged it off. Rose was at his side then, his arm encircling her waist. How did a simple dismiss of my rudeness make me feel so awful?

I tried to make amends, more for myself as Emmett was now perfectly content with Rosalie in his arms, his mind strongly considering taking this opportunity to kiss her passionately. I worked through the almost phantom nausea, offering him a smile, as warm and sincere as I could force it. His returning one cast a dazzling light upon the flaws of my own, but it was irrelevant.

"Are we still okay?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, we're fine," was his sincere reply, which managed to be both dismissive of the situation and reassuring at the same time.

More fuel was added to my already blazing fire of a mood when Rosalie projected her thoughts loudly and clearly so that there was no way that I could miss them, but without addressing me.

More mood swings than a hormonal human. Mood swings. Hardly, just the one type of mood and it never seemed to swing back.

I watched her face, it betrayed nothing of her thoughts. Rose and I's relationship was a curious one, in some ways more distant and less developed than those I shared with my other 'siblings,' but in other ways it existed on a level than others didn't. Rose and I, although we had never agreed on or even spoken such, were an outlet for each others emotions. Always there with a reason, a cause for the argument that both of us so desperately wanted and the comfort that we both so desperately sought; then a sniping comment that reaffirmed that everything was in the right order again. We were alike Rosalie and I, and perhaps that was why we clashed so much.

I fought valiantly to resist the urge to hiss back to her that she should certainly know. I won, but not before a warning snarl ripped through my chest.

Emmett's arms immediately tightened around Rosalie as he placed himself between the two of us, forming a barrier, a shield. Jasper also, for some unfathomable reason, held Alice just that little closer to him. Did he think that I was so volatile and emotionally unstable that I would turn on her suddenly without warning? Well, he should know.

But upon close inspection of her face, her ocher eyes in particular which did not seem to see the things they we focused on, I realized she was lost in a vision. Rosalie was safe behind the shield Emmett presented and knew it, and, in typical Rose fashion; could not resist a final dig.

Touchy.

Her thoughts then centered upon nothing but her and Emmett.

My anger returned tenfold and ashamed of myself as I would be come dusk, I actually stormed across the room and wrenched open the door, the tiny fibers of wood splitting with the force.

It was Alice's voice, so small and timid as she addressed me that made me halt all movement and listen.

"Edward, could you please be a little careful shutting the door? You know how fond of the 18th Century glass Esme is."

I did, and had it not been for her warning my blind anger would have caused me to shatter the age old relic into tiny glittering shards. I saw it in her mind as she relayed the vision for me. I nodded curtly before closing the door as gently as my anger would allow, the glass didn't even shiver as the latch reaffirmed itself with the lock. I could almost hear Esme's thanks as if she had spoken them.

As soon as I stepped out into the damp night air, I was running. Carlisle's thoughts intruded in my mind as they centered upon me; be careful son. It was not a warning, just simply a request.

"I will," I spoke aloud.

Although the chilling wind did not bother me as it whipped viciously around me, it's smell and inadvertently taste however, did. It was like inhaling a form of gaseous ice, it's numbing taste clinging to my throat, almost soothing the burning, but not quite.

The ground, boggy from the most recent rainfall, was in places partially solidified. Everything thing was dusted with a fine glittering substance. Forks would be covered in a white frost by morning.

I wasn't concentrating on where is was going, nor did I follow any specific route. I was running for the sake of it, because it was the easiest thing to do.

Trees whipped past me, and in the mass of green and brown I could still distinguish each of their shapes as if I were barely moving at all. I headed deeper into the forest – the trees were denser here and the temperature slightly warmer under the canopy of the trees – further from civilization and closer to seclusion.

I didn't need to go hunting, not yet. The burning in my throat, although increasing a little in its intensity each day, was not unbearable. My eyes still retained a slight ocher colour; like tainted gold, its shine dulled by the many passed eras. But I took the opportunity all the same, the opportunity to be alone.

I contemplated my behavior; childish, melodramatic even, but curb it I could not, for it stemmed from a feeling that was all to real inside of me. Loneliness.

I was as lonely as one could be when surrounded by family. Was it ungrateful, to think of oneself as being alone when they bore the love of those around them? Yes, most probably it was. But for my own selfish and perhaps primitive reasons, I wanted something more. A mate. I both despised and resented that term; but human equivalents seemed wrong when spoken by vampire lips. We were not humans, in any sense we were monsters, our oven slightly less so because of our estranged diet, but monsters we remained.

Reaching out my hand I caught hold of a small sapling, its growth stunted by the lack of light being able to penetrate the dense canopy above. With one small tug I ripped it from the ground. I held it loosely in my hand for a moment; its brittle bark appearing even more breakable in my palm. Slowly I closed my hand, it splintered like a tooth pick would under a stone. Monster.

I had to reign in my temper, channel it into something productive, or else in just a few short moments this area of forest would lay desolate.

Sometimes it was harder than others to separate my mind from, everyone else's. Sometimes it felt like confinement, when you could hear everyone else's thoughts but no-one could hear yours. Sometimes a relief.

I didn't know why of late the love between my mother and father and sisters and brothers had come to bother me; sicken me even, almost to the point of phantom nausea. It seemed like lately I spent half of my time envying their happiness together and the other half not being able to bare it.

Was I jealous? Was that it?

Shame ran through me, I had no right to be jealous, if indeed that was what I was.

My manor abashed I channeled my shame and anger into hunting. Renouncing myself for the moment to my basic predator instincts. I granted myself, although I didn't deserve it, an escape.

I let my instincts rather than my thoughts control me, my sense of smell becoming my guide and me eyes a secondary sense. After scanning the area to make sure there were no unfortunate humans about to get caught up in my hunt, I relinquished myself completely to the predator withing me.

My hearing became attuned to the forest surrounding me and my stance dropped into that of a hunter. My movements lightening quick lithe and agile.

The only thing that occupied my mind; prey. Something big and mildly dangerous, since we posed the greatest threat for miles around, danger was quite often hard to come by.

Everything in the immediate vicinity was small, easy; deer, antelope. Nothing that presented the challenge I lusted for.

In the distance I could distinguish the sweetness of smell that only emitted from one animal; the mountain lion, by far my favorite prey. Their was something satisfying about a predator hunting another predator for prey. Had I not possessed the streak of recklessness I did tonight I would have been off, darting through the forest after the alluring scent. But as it was, I remained put; searching.

Suddenly something caught my attention, a scent due West, it teased me almost daring me to follow it. My excitement peaked. Somewhere deep in the heart of the forest raged an angry grizzly. I could almost hear it's roar from where is stood, as through it's inconsolable rage it ripped the trees up from their roots.

A small portion of my mind considered the irony.

The scent had me, I was ensnared, captivated. It was the challenge I had yearned for. I could not turn it down, even if I have wanted to.

Veering West I darted deeper into the forest. Venom flowed freely in my mouth, the burning in my throat increased severely as I was overcome by my lust for the creatures blood. I was at my most dangerous, the thing that separated me so greatly from the humans I mimicked was now what controlled me. The animal incarcerated in the stone cage had been set free.

I converged upon the large, shaggy animal, its hunches shivering conveying a mere indication of its brute strength. Saliva oozed from its mouth which remained slack drawing in hugh panting breathes. It stumbled almost drunkenly, emitting a fearsome roar as it continued its crusade of destruction.

Its blood had already been spilled, I could smell it. Tainted; mixed with metal and dirt.

My attention was drawn to the harsh metal loop embedded deeply into the skin of one of its forepaws. With each movement the rampaging hulk of muscle made it seemed to cut deeper.

It was rampant with agony, blinded by the pain. A perfect challenge if ever I saw one. It was illogical, I knew, to bait a raging grizzly. A demonstration of recklessness and irresponsible behavior. But it was also impulsive.

On that note, I lunged. Sinking my teeth ever so slightly into its hind, not even breaking the skin, simply alerting the animal to my presence.

It reared, its head snapping round to regard me, brown eyes burning with malice. A hugh paw came from nowhere to swat at me, as a person would a troublesome fly. I darted quickly out of the way, I was not ready for the bear to meet its match yet and I did not fancy its chances against my granite hard skin.

I circled my prey, making sure I moved just a little bit quicker then it's eyes could follow, taking random but carefully controlled snaps at it's hunches. Never breaking the skin.

It became even more enraged, lunging any direction it thought I might strike next, but always snapping at nothing but air. It was a rather pitiful sight truth be told, the great hunter reduced to a cornered prey.

It lunged again, drawing itself up to optimum height, It's powerful back legs supporting its entire mass, as it towered a good foot above me. A solid force of raw muscle, facing to him what must have looked like a mere human.

In one fluid movement the great bear threw its head back and a wild untameable growl ripped through it's throat, echoing menacingly in the distance. For one small second I felt the ghost of adrenaline course through my body as if I were still human, and in that instant I understood what Emmett saw in his hunt. The thrill of being reckless but coupled with the certainty of always being victorious. For one moment he could let go of his restraint, abandon his caution and be free. It was an exhilarating feeling.

For a moment, we stared each other down. Two predators. Two prey. One of us had to die.

In one lithe movement I pounced, my arms extended forward my hands outstretched, reaching. My fingers snaked in it's fur, locating it's upper neck, just below its jaw. I twisted. It was dead in an instant.

While my thirst was satisfied, my mind however was not, and the longer the answers I searched for eluded me, the more frustrated with myself I became.

Quaint and curious our families existence was, we defied what came naturally to us. Not quite vampires despite our nature...no, less feral. But not humans either. We lay between the bounds of both, we were something else. I was not sure what that something was, or what it meant, but the thought provided neither comfort nor distress, existing simply as a thought like so many others in the mind when one paused long enough to hear them spoken. But our estranged ways, in my mind anyway, did not curb the fact that we existed as the silent hunter. The lion in with the lambs.

My wandering mind so often as it does when I pondered the the response to seemingly unanswerable questions veered off in the direction of my family. One of the many advantages of being able to follow multiple thought trains.

We were not a coven simply bounded together for one common goal, we were fused deeper than that, right at the very core of our existence burned something that most vampires would never be able to recall. An emotion of such depth that their animalistic minds, so hell bent on the blood they lusted for and their hearts so cold and hard as stone could not comprehend. Those whop did feel it – the lucky ones- were still never able to extend the feeling to encapsulate anyone other than their mate. But we had achieved the seemingly impossible feat. It was love that bound us and held us. A deep profound connection.

It seemed ludicrous for a vampire to even entertain the idea of knowing love, and perhaps it was...No, it defiantly was. But when I thought of Esme and Carlisle, my parents for all intents and purposes, and the great compassion they showed both inside and out of our family, coupled with Rosalie and Emmett's admiration for each other – and in response to Rosalie's earlier dig, herself also – and Alice and Jasper's intense connection, my resolve began to falter. Perhaps, by the slightest of chances such a thing was possible.

But then, if it were possible why was no such love reserved for me? Was I undeserving of such? Certainly plausible. Or was I one of the monsters I regarded myself as being above of? Almost probable.

My gaze moved slowly, almost unwillingly towards the discarded bear carcass. I was indeed formidable.

I knew Esme fretted for me, I had heard her on multiple occasions; before quickly blocking her out as not to be intrusive, or lately, because it was too hard to hear her concern. She believed Carlisle had changed me too young, that something had been missing from my genetic make-up that could only be ascertained by age. I was always opposed to this theory, but of late I had found myself more and more inclined to agree. But then again, Rose had only been a year older than me when she was changed; and she had Emmett.

I had conversed this very issue with Carlisle, long into the lonely hours of the night, when even the moon seemed to shrink almost into none existence, swallowed by the great vastness above.

'The thing with love Edward' he had told me with a look that spoke such complete sincerity that I could not help but believe his words to be true. 'Is that everyone – and yes even yourself, despite what you may think – is capable of it. Of feeling it or being the object of it. Sometimes it takes a while to find. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it is almost as if – for lack of a better term – that destiny has brought two people together to be united in this world, and sometimes it is simply stumbled upon by the unsuspecting in the most unlikeliest of places. Sometimes the search can leave us weary but to surrender is madness for our prize is far greater than any amount of energy exacted in her acquirement.'

That particular conversation had left me with a lot to think about and I still wasn't through sorting the multitude of thoughts in my head. I didn't doubt him, but I couldn't harbor the certainty he had.

My respect for Carlisle ran deep, it fused to every bone in my body and acted as almost a second conscience in my mind. I'd often contemplated my change, what his own loneliness had drove him too. I imagined his internal struggle where within which he tried to justify his actions to himself, I imagined his face torn as he considered his uncertainty in his will to resist and his moral views conflicting with his compassion to save my pitiful life. He had not know what to do, entangles in things that were greater than him, he could only think to replicate the wounds he had received as if in them was the key, becoming repentant later on when he learned that this had been unnecessary. The venom had been unbearable, but I could not even begin to imagine his pain.

I was proud to have Carlisle as my creator and prouder still that he often bestowed upon me the coveted title of son. He stood at the head of our family. The leader, the father.

At his side, his opposite in some respects, stood Esme. If Carlisle was the head of our family then Esme was undoubtedly the heart of it. The two counterparts that governed us.

Their relationship remained benevolent and completely flawless, even after so long together. I still caught a glimpse every so often of that passion that he stirred Carlisle's every sense and made him realize that letting this woman die was nothing more than an unforgivable waste. She was a roughed diamond, tarnished by the life that had been so cruel to her, but still as beautiful and pure as the day she had been crafted.

Rosalie and Emmett's relationship, on the surface appeared to be rather superficially physical, but anyone who thought that their love did not extend deeper, were so grievously wrong that it was practically unlawful. Something about Emmett had broken through Rosalie's hard exterior and charmed her; granting her the strength to carry the bleeding man hundreds of miles to Carlisle, knowing she might be too late but being too fearful to change him herself. All the while resisting his blood which she had later recalled smelt particularly alluring to her. 'My Angle' Emmett had called her, and in a way I suppose she was, she had indeed saved him. Their love had prospered quickly and easily, and now I remained certain that Emmett had saved Rose, just as much as she had him, and in ways she probably didn't even know.

Alice was a mystery to us all, so easily she could have turned feral, a rampaging newborn hell bent on obtaining human blood. A danger to humans, and the Voultri, and ultimately herself. But something had happened, and maybe it was a turn of destiny as Carlisle had spoken of, but whatever it was it gave her a purpose. She saw Jaspers face and knew that she had to find him, everything else served no meaning to her; not her thirst and not her nature. Their relationship was as mysterious as the dark haired pixie herself, it was almost as if they had been created specifically for each other, like they existed on the same level. The depth of their passion and love for each other, that I could see in their minds was astounding and still sometimes I was left awe struck by it. They were so attuned to each other that it was almost as if Jasper knew Alice's every emotion better than she did herself, and Alice could fathom the workings of Jaspers mind when it seemed to elude him. It was almost as if the two of them claimed a stake in my own enhanced ability, but only between each other.

My mind was made up in that instant and with it came a sense of relief. Whatever happened, I would know it when I found love – Or the vampire equivalent – it was not that I was undeserving or exempt from such a reward. It simply remained that my search was not ready to be ended, their still remained valuable discoveries to be made that would ultimately lead me to my most valuable treasure.

Yes, I had been selfish. Yes, my reactions had been rash and uncalled for. And yes, I was going to make amends.

A sense of peace spread over me that had long since been absent from my being and my horrendous mood abated. I had found answers, perhaps not the ones I had originally sought, but ones that pacified me all the same. My own personal world had spun on it's axis and everything before that had seemed so wrong suddenly looked golden. This wasn't a fleeting happiness, this was hear to stay.

My attention was caught by the dawn in the west, I had been aware of the steady lightening of the sky for quite some time, but had paid it very little heed. Now it domineered my attention. Breaking through the thick mass of churning Grey clouds that up until that moment had kept it encapsulated, were the weak rays of a spring sun, the first sun of spring, it had been long since I had seen it.

Its rays fell upon me, causing my granite skin to glitter, and although I could not feel its effects, I was warmed.

It looked like I was staying home today. At home with my family, and for the moment; that was more than enough for me.


I explicitly thank you for reading and if you are feeling generous or have some free time, your words would be apprciated.

Thanks again

One Wish Magic