Summary: New Moon AU. Edward doesn't return, and Bella finds her solace in a large, eccentric coven of vampires. A chance meeting fifty years later tests the strength of her family, her mate, and herself.

This story may not be Edward/Bella. I try to stick to Twilight canon as much as I can (minus canon-divergence, obviously), but for the sake of this story, it will be very OC-heavy. I hope you enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Twilight series in part or in whole. All publicly recognizable characters, plots, settings, and ideas were created by Stephenie Meyer.

Prologue / Bella

I never expected the pain to be quite this bad, my lungs to be quite so small; but it's not a vampire's venom that sends my body into burning cold.

A sorrowful sound echoes through the forest. I almost believe it's a bear; no, the sound had escaped from my own heart, building in my throat, before reaching its crescendo and ripping through the crack in my lips. It's too cold for a September night, and the only thing that can warm me now is the presence of a colder body.

My feet move on autopilot through the coppice. The underbrush stings my legs and the thin branches rake my face like mangling fingernails, but my hands move them away. Move towards Edward.

Finally, I shatter, my legs giving way to the ice that they've become. My eyes prick with unsung tears before my body curls and collapses into itself like a broken tendril of smoke. And like a sluice, gasping sobs wrack my body as I writhe beneath the new moon. I topple from my position on my knees till I'm on my side. Exhaustion keels me over; I can feel frost creeping up my legs, down my spine, through my wrists. My tears seem to freeze onto my face. All that's left of me now is desperate breaths of air and a girl of glaciers, wishing desperately for a fire to warm her.

I'm slipping into death.

A lake of lava swims before my eyes, and I allow my body to drift into the heat.

The light is nearly blinding. My eyes initially refuse to open, my nose scrunching in protest before my lids crack open. It's a small peak of light that enters my vision first, streaming through a gap between the curtains that someone seemed to have the decency to close for my sake. Still, the thin breach of the thick fabric hanging on the window allows the white sunlight to assail my vision, causing me to grunt in annoyance. So I lift my hand to shield the offending glow.

And I freeze.

It's like a kaleidoscope exploding on my fingers, sparkles dancing across the skin there. Colors play off little prisms across my palm, blues and pinks and greens and colors I never knew could come from such milky white marble. I am made of diamonds, all welded together to form the jeweled chainmail that is my body, but I know that if I run my fingers across my arm, I would rival silk.

I am the stuff of daydreams.

I sit up quickly and fluidly, pivoting my leonine body around. Even the blanket, originally laid across me with such care, falling off my shoulders is graceful, reminding me of the marble drapes Greek goddesses wore. Absentmindedly, I wonder who had tucked the thin fabric around me; the burn of the change was enough of an inferno without the extra layer, but somehow, I'm grateful at the thought.

When my feet touch the plush of the carpet beneath me, I almost shudder at the feline quiet behind the action. I make my way to the open glass door. The squeal of the curtains as I brush them aside goes ignored, and it only takes a moment for the shock to register at the scene before me.

I am at the beach.

I blink, unsure if I'm hallucinating or not. But it's real. It's not a Forks beach, shrouded in rocks and overcast clouds; it's a sunny, sandy, honest-to-goodness beach. The urge to run outside and splash around in the clear blue water is nearly overwhelming. But I don't. Because I'm not alone.

A man enters, a small girl trailing behind him as she grips at the sleeve of his casual button-down. The man looks to be about thirty, the girl the same age as me. While the man's hair is a crisp brown, hers is a metallic, flaming red, the thick, large ringlets stopping just above her shoulder. Her eyes, bright and doe-like, are curious on her heart-shaped face, and I'm at ease when the man speaks.

"Isabella?"

"Just Bella," I correct, and the words are out of my mouth the instant I think them. My hand flies to my lips, my eyes widening at the clear tone that escapes there. And the two laugh, friendly tenor and warm soprano, before the man makes his way to me, palms up in greeting.

"I'm Theo, Theo Bennett. How are you feeling?"

I almost don't trust myself to answer, but rather the redheaded girl laughs again, perching herself on a dresser against the wall. "It's alright; we all felt a little off-kilter after we woke up."

The timbre of her voice surprises me; it's high and sweet, but with a can-do attitude that brings old Hollywood starlets to mind.

"I feel..." I trail off with a frown, my hand lifting to my throat where a raised crescent scar has embedded there. The two are endlessly patient, it seems, because they only wait, understanding smiles on their faces. "I feel different," I decide safely. There's something off about these two, something that sends my instincts and my mind whirring in confusion.

"That's to be expected," Theo nods, and turns to the girl. "Evelyn?"

Her eyes drift off in thoughtfulness before she responds. "Elliot says that they're on their way."

My mind begins to spin even more. Elliot? How many is 'they?'

Evelyn begins walking toward me and I tense for a brief minute. But instead, she brushes past me and stands by the bed, folding my discarded blanket as she closes her gold-green eyes and basks in the sunlight. And it hits me like a ton of bricks, what is so wrong with the two of them.

The glittering of vampire skin isn't there.

I stumble back and my heel catches on the rug, and I nearly fall onto my backside. They look at me curiously. I can't even find it in myself to be embarrassed, my mouth instead flopping like a fish.

"You... you..."

"Is everything okay?"

I swallow. "What are you?"

Theo and Evelyn exchange glances dubiously before Evelyn resumes her spot on the dresser and Theo beckons me to sit on the bed. I do, still stunned. I'd thought they were vampires; I thought I was a vampire; but how can they be if their skin doesn't have the same properties? What am I, since my skin does?

"I suppose now's as good a time as any," Theo muses. "Bella, I'm assuming you've heard stories of vampires."

"Yes. But you're not vampires."

Evelyn's gaze grows more interested now, and curiosity creeps into Theo's eyes.

"I'm afraid we are. And you are, too."

"No," I insist. "No, you're not. You're not... you're not sparkling. Your eyes aren't gold, or red, or black. Not in the way they should be."

It had slipped out, but I quickly realize that it's true. Evelyn's eyes are the same topaz as the Cullens' lovely shade but flecked with green around the rim. And Theo's are gold as well, but shining with blue whorls, almost as though someone had poured cerulean ink into his irises and created a whirlpool with the two colors there.

And now those two sets of eyes are staring at me in shock. They lock gazes for a moment and almost seem to be communicating in their minds, Evelyn flitting from her perch on the dresser to take both my hands in hers.

"I can't hear anything," she murmurs, looking at Theo excitedly. "This is amazing."

"How is it," Theo begins, "that you know what we're supposed to look like? You wouldn't happen to have had any interaction with vampires before us, yes?"

I shake my head as if to shake away the question, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself back home, back to Charlie, back to...

Edward!

It's a bolt of lightning. The memories, carefully tucked away behind a sluice, break loose and flood my mind. The party, the breakup, me wandering the woods... the freezing air forcing its way down my lungs... my fingers losing all feeling as they turned to ice...

A sob wracks my body, and I pull my hands from Evelyn's, curling into a ball. I can feel the pity rolling off both of them, and I don't want it. But I'm still grateful to them; I know that they're the only reason I'm still alive, that I can still have a chance to fix what I broke. I can find Edward; I can trace his scent, find his family. But deep within me, I know it's impossible.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the heel of my hand habitually brushing away tears that didn't fall. "I had a boyfriend. Edward Cullen."

The two of them go completely still. "Cullen?" Evelyn asks Theo. "Dad, didn't you tell us about that man who managed to resist the bloodlust? The doctor?"

"Yes," Theo nodded stiffly. "I've heard of the Cullens, Bella. Everyone has. But none of us have met them personally."

I shudder. No, of course they haven't; the Cullens are recluses, but apparently not so much as this family that is tucked so deep into obscurity that they can feed on animals and not raise a brow.

I suddenly wish I had Evelyn's hand again; the room feels very cold. Sensing this, she places her hand in mine, lips dropping open. "Nothing again."

"A shield," Theo says, rapping his knuckles on the bedpost. "That's what it is. I haven't seen this for so long. Not since... not since the fall of the Roman Empire, I believe."

I recoil in shock, and he jokes, "Now, while I may not be quite as old as the Egyptian coven, but you don't need to look so startled at my youth."

I'm sure that if I could blush, I would be. Instead, I cast my eyes downward and shuffle my feet awkwardly. "I'm sorry. It's not that. It's just that I thought that the oldest vampires I've heard of are the Volturi. I didn't even know that there was an Egyptian coven, much less a Roman one."

"Oh, we're not Roman," Evelyn hums noncommittally. "Technically, we're the Californian coven, although nobody really knows we exist except the Volturi."

"But Rome—"

"Dad was born in Ancient Greece; he saw the fall of Rome, but there isn't a Roman bone in his body."

My curiosity is piqued as Theo continues. "My wife, Rehema, was born in Ancient Egypt, and some two hundred years after her change, she visited Greece. I was born under the full name Theodosios; I'm sure you can see why we had to shorten that." His eyes twinkle merrily with the smile that barely plays at his lips, and I find myself entranced with the story. "I wasn't exactly the most impressive child, nor was I the most well-behaved."

"As I'm sure you can see," Evelyn quips, and Theo throws her an amused glare.

"As I was saying, after a little... misadventure, Rehema changed me. I'm twenty-nine. She's twenty-eight, and Evie here is eighteen."

"Are they the only ones in your coven?" I ask. I'm met with two vigorous shakes of the head.

"No, our family is a bit too big for our own good," Theo grins, "It's Rehema, then me, and then we found Nathaniel when he was nineteen in England. Shortly after that, we saved Amelie from the guillotine during the French Revolution and Henry and Violet from the Titanic. Then— oh, who was it next, Evelyn? Johnny then you, or you then Johnny?"

"Johnny in 1920, then Elliot and me after we made the mistake of screwing around with that plane," she replies, then turns to me. "Elliot and I are twins. Henry and Violet were both together when they boarded the Titanic, and Nat and Amelie are married."

My head should be spinning. I should be pointing and running and screaming. But instead, I can only feel the residue of nausea from my remembrance of Edward and overwhelming respect for the family that welcomed me with such open arms despite its already large size.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. The pair look at me. "I didn't mean to impose. I... I can leave—"

"No!" Both Evelyn and Theo make me jump in alarm before Theo clears his throat. "You don't have to leave. Of course, you can if you like; I understand that you associated with the Cullens, and we follow the same diet as they do. If that doesn't appeal to you, you're welcome to go anytime you like, but we're glad to have you here."

"And you really should meet the family before you make any judgments," Evelyn says, the tip of her button nose twitching. I take a deep sniff too— cinnamon and citrus, I realize is the scent of Theo and Evelyn —and smell an intoxicating whiff of pine, cedar, flora, fruits, and desserts that I decide must be the rest of the Bennett clan rapidly approaching from the north. Evelyn smiles warmly at me.

"You'll love them. And there are definitely a few perks of staying. One being that you get most of the perks of humanity."

I blink. "Is that why you didn't...?"

She grins mischievously, giving me a thumbs up. "That's right. The lack of sparkle, the wacky eye colors, the ability to eat and sleep: that's all Elliot. It's his ability. That's why we get to live here in such a sunny place and not raise any attention. You really should stay, Bells." The nickname rolls off her tongue like she invented it.

The Bennetts are getting closer as Evelyn continues like a rehearsal. "Plus, we can help you develop your powers and share bunches of knowledge with you. Half the family is gifted. You'll be in good hands. What do you say?"

The air is sparking with electricity as the first Bennett crosses the threshold downstairs, laughing and bantering for all he's worth. The next is a woman, tone fond and warm as cocoa. And the rest pour in. The playful chatter downstairs seems to complete the atmosphere, seems as though it's the chorus to the piano of the breaking waves. China plates chime on a glass table, and the aroma of a homey stew surrounds the house. Not yet a home, I realize, but it could be. It will be.

A handsome boy enters the room and smiles at me, and I smile back.

"Yes," I whisper before turning warmly to Evelyn. "Yes, of course I'll stay."

Thoughts are always appreciated! If you have any suggestions as to where you'd like this story to go, please leave a review.

7/19/16: One character's name edited due to unintended mismatch with another canon character.