Welcome, readers! This is my first attempt at a Twilight fan fiction. Hopefully, everyone likes it. This is a prologue, written just like Stephenie writes her books. This event is set at a later time than the beginning of the story. So please read, enjoy, and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight nor any of its characters. That honor goes to Miss Stephenie Meyer.
Prologue:
It wasn't meant to be like this. It was supposed to be so easy. A sure thing. No one was supposed to be in any danger. Yet here I stood, feeling deeper anguish than I thought was possible. My eyes flickered over the small band of prisoners.
Alice was sprawled over Jasper's unmoving body, sobbing uncontrollably. Emmett, usually so cheerful and optimistic, grimly held Rosalie in his arms. Her consciousness was rapidly decreasing. Even from my vantage point, I could feel her getting weaker by the second. Carlisle and Esme were on opposite sides of the room, shackled and separated from each other. Phil looked numb as he held my mother, who cried softly in his arms.
Jacob caught my eye. He looked so terribly sad. I wanted to rush over and comfort him. But of course I couldn't. I hadn't been able to do that in a long time. The expression in his eyes caused a sharp stab of pain in my heart. His eyes were completely devoid of hope. Jacob had given up. That frightened me more than anything else I'd witnessed so far.
Taking a shaky breath, my eyes moved toward the last person in the room. I had avoided looking at him for as long as I could. I was so afraid to see him like this. But I couldn't think of any more excuses. So I looked at him. He was looking directly at me, of course. His dark eyes were full of concern. For me. Even in this desperate time, I was his first priority. "Edward," I sighed his name, too soft for human ears to hear. But he heard.
"Bella," he responded just as quietly. A few months ago, I wouldn't have been able to hear him. But now, my overly sensitive ears easily picked up what he said. His voice was dulled by worry, by grief. His family lay in shambles around him, and he was powerless to help them.
A quick glimpse of the past took over my mind as I heard his voice. "Bella," he said softly, grazing my cheek with his hand. It came out as a question. My vulnerable heart pounded in my ears. His face was nervous, drawn with worry. I smiled at him encouragingly.
"Go ahead," I replied softly. Yet he still hesitated.
"There's no rush, you know. We could wait. There's no vampire tradition that dictates the proper time for a transformation." I suppressed an irritated sigh. How stubborn he was, even now.
"Edward," I said, struggling to keep irritation from my voice, "we've waited. A long time. I'm ready now. I've made my peace. I've said my goodbyes. I'm ready." He nodded, still unsure.
"I don't want to hurt you," he mumbled, his beautiful voice marred by sadness.
I looked straight into his eyes. "You won't," I said firmly. He smiled, a little bitterly. We both knew I was lying. He closed his eyes for a moment. I felt him focusing all of his concentration into this impossible task. Then, silently, he leaned forward. His face was against my throat as he slowly opened his mouth…
I was pulled back from the seemingly distant memories by a series of discreet footsteps behind me. I turned and glared at the man I faced with all the loathing I could muster. He ignored my expression and smiled quite pleasantly. He addressed me like a father would his favorite child. "My dearest Bella, welcome. You are now officially one of the Volturi."