A.N./ Stephanie Meyer Owns Twilight And All Character's Mentioned In This Story. Critical Reviews Are Welcome, But Please No Bad Mouthing Of The Books, Character's, etc. We All Have Our Own Opinions, Like And Dislikes.
Thank You For Reading. Enjoy.
I.
She angled herself away from the group, her hands clasped firmly in front of her as if that could protect her from the onsought of questions. The wind whip her face, her eyes dry from the assaulting wind. The gaze of her sister's causing her to bow her head.
Her actions, however misguided and fruitless were born out of an insane jealousy and hurt. The sight of the young child had almost sent her into a mad frenzy of recolection and misundersanding.
Her gold eyes watched the group, the hate and hurt bare to the group that had chosen to stand with the Cullens, even her sisters stood proudly beside them.
The snow covered the childs hair, she sat atop the giant bronze wolf her eyes soft and sweet like chocolate.
She would be crying now if she could.
II.
Irina had watched her mother die. Watched the burning embers rake her skin, her dry screams striking the air, like thunder across the dry, baren land.
Her hands had unconsiously reached for them, the action sending her sprawling to the ground in pain by Jane's power.
"You would have me believe that they were innocent, brother", Caius had commented nastily, throwing his cape out behind himself.
"We must set an example!"
"We must display our willingness to forgive", Aro had replied, his tone holding a note finality to it.
But that hadn't been what they had wanted at all.
Their story whould spread, displaying the power of the Volturi and whispers of the Volturi would soon turn into screams.
III.
The sun was pinpoint over the sky, straight above the clearing. The snow settled itself comfortably over the trees and grass.
If the snow continued, there would be no need to hide the piles of ashes and smoke.
The snow would do that soon enough.
IV.
Irina's coven mother had once told her that life, no matter how vile or cruel, no matter what deed a person had commited, was precious.
"The birth of a flower begins the same way a human and vampire lives starts, pick it only when it's ripe, so that it will not die ugly."
Irene turned her head towards the group, watching the child as she watched her from her perch.
Renesmee stared at her, chocolate eyes swimming with hidden tears as Irina was forcibly brought forward.
V.
Irina watched a snow flake fall, her eyes meeting her sister's.
"I'm sorry."
The flames were inches from her back, Jane's power already buzzing.
"I love you."
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