Disclaimer: The Twilight Series is the exclusive creative property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any rights to it. This is a fan-based creation.

Author's Note: So color me surprised when I tried to start a new story about Edward and Bella and I couldn't get Rosalie and Emmett out of my mind. My deepest apologies to anyone who is still waiting for "Hush-A-Bye, Baby." I needed to write this first to make some room in my head. This is the unanticipated sequel to "Made For You." However, you do not have to read "Made For You" to follow this story. To my faithful readers, thank you for your patience. The first few pages of this chapter are from the epilogue of "Made For You." Bear with me. I want to catch everyone else up. To any new readers, thank you for giving this a chance. Please drop a review and let me know what you think.

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"As for me, to love you alone…this is my destiny and the meaning of my life."

-Napoleon Bonaparte

Spring of 1935, Smoky Mountains, Tennessee

Rosalie breathed in deeply of the pine forest air, her red mouth twisting in self-satisfaction. It was the farthest she had come in this direction, alone, at least. Nearly seven hundred miles, she guessed, dropping from a high branch to the dark forest floor. Through the gloom of early morning fog, edges of light were just beginning to appear. Like twilight in reverse.

The familiar sound of warm blood pumping made her muscles tense. She inhaled carefully. With the new nature park so close, humans could be nearby. The smell was confusing. It was definitely an animal, something large, predatory…definitely a meat-eater. But there was a different scent, sweeter, more exposed. Rosalie fought against the now familiar burning in her throat. That was not an animal. Automatically now, she stopped breathing and focused on controlling herself. Small movements, small thoughts. She tried desperately not to imagine what must be waiting down in the ravine. Some wounded human, probably cornered by a mountain lion. Someone who would die, anyway. No, she must not think things like that. It only made the burning more unbearable. And she could not feed. She would not feed. Suddenly the smoky morning air seemed ominous, not crisp and inviting as it had been before.

With every ounce of strength she possessed, Rosalie turned away from the mouthwatering scent and forced herself to run in the opposite direction. If she focused only on the ground ahead of her, at the curving branches reaching down to meet her as she flew by them, she might be far enough away before she lost her willpower.

But just as relief poured over, a weak, strangled cry came from behind her, stopping her in her tracks. She stood, frozen, afraid to turn around and face the noise and the smell. For a moment all was quiet and still and Rosalie wondered if she had dreamt the sound into existence. Another second and the cry came again, a little stronger, a little more insistent.

In agony, Rosalie turned and started slowly towards the edge of the precipice, her hands clenched in fists. Whoever he or she was down there…they might not live through this. But she couldn't ignore the noise or the smell or the sadness in knowing they were alone and dying.

She would stop the animal, chase it off, kill it, whatever. And then she would run, as fast as her legs could carry her and hope against hope that she could escape the temptation. It was foolish to attempt and still she walked forward, picking her way through the heavy undergrowth, nearing a faint trickling of water that became a stream only a few miles south.

There was a heavy panting and a soft, whimpering noise. She could hear the beast now, baying, snarling, its thick snout raised in a triumphant roar. The bear stood on all fours, its back to her.

Coiling to spring, Rosalie set her shoulders and leapt. She threw her arms around the creature's enormous neck. The grizzly growled in surprise and reached a large, clumsy paw out to bat her off.

Hissing, she sank her teeth deep into its neck.

The bear yelped and stumbled once.

Rosalie clung to the animal, keeping her mouth firmly at its jugular vein, half in hopes of killing it and half to keep herself from focusing too much on the stronger scent, the free flowing blood of the human. She wrapped a slender arm around the bear's throat and pulled it into the crook of her elbow, squeezing as hard as she could.

It roared again, furiously, and shook her off.

Rosalie flew through the air, her body making a loud cracking sound against an old oak tree. She landed and crouched, baring her teeth at the bear before jumping again and throwing it to the ground. She found herself face to face with the largest set of teeth she had ever seen, foaming saliva dripping from the corners of its mouth.

For the tiniest second, she wondered if she should feel afraid. Vampires were undoubtedly strong but this… She had never hunted anything quite so large before.

The grizzly bear snapped viciously. Its breath smelt of blood and decay. She wrinkled her nose and putting both hands around the bear's neck, she pushed with all of her strength.

The bear made a gurgling noise, pawing frantically at her granite face. Its claws didn't leave a scratch. The animal jerked twice more and lay still.

Rosalie sat frozen for a minute, terrified of moving. Careful not to breathe, she turned her golden head to the gasping form, lying prostrate a hundred yards away.

Run, the little voice inside told her. Run and maybe…just maybe he'll have a chance.

But Rosalie was sure he would not survive this, regardless. Even from a distance, she could see the extent of the damage. It was horrific. From where she sat, straddling the dead bear, she could see his right leg had been completely mauled, all of the flesh torn from the bone. His entire body convulsed with the shock of it.

He's going to die anyway, the voice went on. There's nothing you can do. Run. Don't disappoint your family. She thought of Carlisle and Esme and Edward. What would they do in her place?

An inaudible moan came from the dying man and Rosalie was overcome with pity. Gritting her teeth and willing herself not to breathe in the glorious scent, she stood and walked towards him.

As she grew close, she felt the grass squish beneath her feet and saw she had stepped in a pool of the man's blood. Kneeling uncertainly, Rosalie lifted trembling hands to turn his head towards her. Miraculously, his face had remained untouched by the bear's angry claws.

Rosalie's mouth fell open in surprise. A fuzzy memory suddenly bright as a flashbulb…Vera and Tommy and...and little baby Henry, his dimpled, freckled cheeks, the velvet brown of his eyes, the soft curl of his downy hair. Rosalie took a sharp intake of air and instantly regretted it. The smell of the man's blood hit her fully in the face and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

She was wishing desperately that she had not come back when she felt a hand squeeze around her own. Startled, she looked down to see his shaking fingers wrapped around her own icy, porcelain ones.

"Are…" the man whispered, his voice barely audible. "Are you…my angel?"

Rosalie stared straight into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and knew she could never leave this man here alone in the forest to die.

He coughed and licked his lips once before saying with some effort, "I…always hoped they'd send a pretty one for me. When it was time…"

"Sshhh," she whispered, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm…I'm here now."

The man, a hunter by his garb, reached his hand up to brush a stray curl from Rosalie's face. "It…won't be long now…will it?" he asked, wincing. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and temple.

Rosalie studied him for another moment and, without thinking, nodded, "No, it won't be long." Another moment and he was in her arms. She began to run.

The trees blurred by and the man smiled, a little wistfully. "Are we flying? Fly me up to heaven, angel." His fingers brushed her cheek again and then fell back against his chest.

"What's your name?" Rosalie murmured, gathering another burst of speed.

"Emmett," he whispered. "My name is Emmett."

"Emmett," Rosalie repeated, letting the name linger on her lips as she ran.

Seven hundred miles. Rosalie's heart sank. It might as well be seven thousand. If he survived his wounds, which was doubtful, he would not survive her bloodlust. She was foolish to attempt this. She would kill him. She would drink his blood. She would leave his body on the forest floor and no one would wonder at his death, practically ripped to shreds by a bear. Edward would never let her hear the end of it. Her perfect record…soiled. Some small part of her clung to her pride and it was enough to ignore the burning. For now.

Locked in her stone embrace, Emmett cried out and Rosalie's head whirled down to look at him in alarm. Had she jostled him rounding that last tree? His eyes were closed and his long dark lashes almost kissed the line of freckles that began at his cheekbones. He had a sweet, boyish face, despite his size. Rosalie guessed he must be close to her age, although he could have been older. Underneath the blood-soaked cotton of his shirt, his chest heaved as he took in large, painful breaths.

"Couldn't load…the rifle…in time," he murmured, feverishly.

She felt his hot, ragged breath on her throat and thought she must be going insane. Every inch of her longed to drink in the smell, the taste…the warmth. Fighting to keep from inhaling, Rosalie stumbled on, Emmett's limp body feeling heavier than it had before. In her two brief years as a vampire, she had not once experienced physical exhaustion, had not known a need for sleep. She had almost forgotten those sensations.

But the human feelings came rushing back as she flew through the forest, dreading the moment that would come. The moment in which she would lose her self-control and give in. A second passed and another. She waited almost impatiently for the end. But it never came. Instead, the trees became denser, thicker as she left the mountains of Tennessee and found herself in a wooded valley.

"It's…d-dark," Emmett said, his voice shaking. "I can't see you, angel. Are you still here?"

Rosalie bit back a hysterical laugh. Angel…angel of death, maybe.

His broad, handsome face looked so young and lost that she forgot the scent of blood and the fire in her throat.

"I'm here, Emmett," she whispered, impulsively. "I promise. No one is going to take you away from me."

And there was the moment. Rosalie bowed her head and ran on, vowing silently. She would not lose control until she reached the one person who might be able to save this man from the Angel of Death.

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In the study, Edward lifted his bronze head from his book. It was Rosalie. She'd gone farther than she should have alone but the tenor of her thoughts distracted him from this. Her mind was fragmented, frantic, and very loud. There was just one thought repeated, again and again. Edward stiffened as he heard it…PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T LET HIM DIE…

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Author's Note: So that was a little bit of a repeat from "Made For You" but I'm interested in thoughts before I continue. Thank you for reading!