Day Two

Alaska wasn't far enough.

Just the thought of her name

Isabella Marie Swan

was enough to make his body ache with longing,
muscles coiling, throat closing, venom pooling his mouth.

Even when he didn't think of it, it was there Bella, a specter sliding and slipping into his darkest places Bella, hissing at him that he'd allowed his perfect prey Bella to evade him, allowed it to chase him off from the only people that matter.

Why did she have exist? Why did she have to come to Forks?

He hated her.

He hated himself.

He could still see his face, the face of the monster who'd deliberated her death a hundred times, reflected back in her wide brown terrified eyes. The monster he'd beaten back through decades of effort and uncompromising discipline. The monster that cried out for her blood, cried out to search the whole planet just to taste a single drop of it.

He could still see Carlisle's face when he'd explained, remember the thoughts that had dashed through his mind.

The Denali coven was nice, and indispensable with their information, but they weren't his family.

He wanted to go back.

His thoughts, actions, reactions were all his own here.
No over reactions. No struggles for control.

He didn't want to prove Carlisle wrong.

He wouldn't be the monster, not after all this time.
He wouldn't give in.

Yet how could he be sure of that without tempting fate and her overwhelming draw?