Disclaimer: All the wonderful Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, 'Wicked Lovely' belongs to Melissa Marr. Parts of 'Tragic Lovely' belong to me also.

This is my first time writing a story in third person POV, but I have the book as a guide, so it won't be too hard, I hope. The story does incorporate both 'Wicked Lovely' and Twilight, along with some of my own fixings.

I really have basically changed the whole story, where Bella and Edward are involved. The words are different, people are different. If you haven't read the story, I recommend the book immensely-it really is a good read! It will probably also help you understand this story better. But, if you need help understanding, PM or review and I will get back to you.

Bella is still a human, and she and Edward are only engaged.

Chapter One: Glance

Third Person POV

"Four-ball, side pocket." With precise aim, Bella pushed the cue forward, and with a quick and clear push, the ball dropped into the exact pocket with a clank. She smiled-this was easier than she thought.

Emmett narrowed his eyes at her, as he motioned towards one of the hardest shots-a bank shot.

Bella smirked. "Getting desperate, Emmie?"

Emmett scowled. "You wish, Isabella." Bella grimaced at the sound of her full name. Emmett just focused his attention back on the colored balls lying around on the table. Focus and control, that's what it's about. He chanted to himself, sort of like a mantra.

Right before he could push the cue, Bella coughed once and distracted for a second, he shot it so it hit a few centimeters away from the pocket. He cursed. "Fuck you, Bella!"

"Emmett Cullen! Stop that right now, or I'll tell Edward right when he comes back-and you and everyone else remembers what happened the last time he got angry at you." Rosalie's voice drifted from the living room. Emmett cringed, obviously remembering. "Fine, fine…" He muttered under his breath. "Stupid spoiled little human!"

"Emmett…" Rosalie growled, a warning.

"Yes dear…"

Bella circled the table, paused, and chalked the cue. A few rounds later, she leaned back, a triumphant smirk on her face.

But then, they appeared. Warm air fanned on her skin. A faery, with its hot breath pressed close to her and sniffed her hair. His pointed chin pressed against her skin.

This wasn't the first time they had appeared. They had started appearing over a few weeks ago, constantly around her, constantly distracting her from her daily life. It was increasingly irritating, but she didn't want to alert Edward-she knew that there was a good chance that he would freak.

The faery then picked up a strand of her hair and brushed it across its face.

Bella leaned forward, and pretending to scratch her chin, she flicked the faery away. However, as much as she tried, she couldn't ignore their annoying laughing, squealing, gnashing teeth and beating wings-these things she couldn't escape.

She could see the faeries flying, diving, making circles in the air. It distracted her from the peace she had hoped to get in the smaller room of the Cullen mansion.

"I'm tired, Emmett. I forfeit." Honestly, she just wanted to get out of there. Slyly, she swung her cue around, trying to hit the faeries while still making it look like she was just putting the cue back on the wall rack. But all they did was laugh and duck out of the way.

"Yay! I win!" Emmett jumped up and hugged Bella carefully, but still forcefully. She smiled at the sound of the faerie's fright.

"Let me go, you big lug!" She yelled. Emmett released her instantly. He didn't want to get into trouble with anyone. Bella took a few moments to steady herself and regain her breath.

She walked out of the room, and said hi to Rosalie. The faeries followed her, much to her annoyance. "Hey Rosalie, it's almost Charlie's curfew-I'm just going to take the path back home, okay?"

"Don't you want to wait for Edward to get back?" Bella shook her head. She knew that they would be following and she didn't want Edward to notice them. He was extremely observant, especially when it came to her.

"He knows that the path is perfectly safe, Rosalie. But thank you, anyways." Bella picked up her coat and walked outside. Rosalie smiled and shook her head lightly as Bella walked out the door. She had really grown to like Bella these past weeks, and she loved her more and more like a sister.

Outside, Bella followed the path that Edward had paved for her. It was a very beautiful path, which Esme had decorated with flowers from her own personal garden. There were no roots or rocks, completely Bella-proof. On nice days, she loved taking walks with Edward along the path, holding hands and doing nothing but talking. She cherished those days.

The sun was still pretty high, but signs were showing that it was almost twilight, her and Edward's favorite time of day.

It was quiet as she walked, except for the fluttering of the faerie's wings. She could ignore it, but only because of the scenery and the peace she felt here. Something was stirring inside her, and she knew that she was going to meet someone who she didn't want to see again.

Once she reached the fork in the road, she smiled. The left lead to her home, but the right lead to the meadow. She looked at her watch. It was only 5. Perfect, she had some time to stop at the meadow. Alice would be watching for her-she would be safe.

As she rounded the corner, she stopped when they stepped out to meet her. It appeared as if they had been hiding near the path, as if they knew that she was going this way.

The girl had long white hair, streaming out like curls of smoke. Her lips were a pale blue-not because of lipstick or lip gloss, but a pale, corpse blue. She wore a faded brown leather skirt, stitched with thick cords. For a shirt, she had on a sleeveless top that was made of lace. It was light blue, like the color of ice.

Besides her stood a huge white wolf that she would lean on or ride. Another faery appeared by her side. When he touched her, steam rose from her skin. She bared her teeth, shoved him, slapped him, but he did nothing but smile.

It was almost devastatingly beautiful when he smiled. He glowed faintly, as if coals burned underneath the surface of his skin. His collar length hair shimmered like strands of bright copper.

Bella backed away from them. The male faery was too aggravating for her-he was tanned, and he walked with a swagger that said he knew how attractive he was. He moved, as if he knew that he was in charge of everyone and everything. However, it almost made her laugh. His height was average-you'd think that he would be taller. In reality, he was only about half a head taller than her.

He walked closer to her, while the girl stayed back as she glared at him with cold, unnerving eyes. As he moved forward, Bella could smell wildflowers; she could hear the rustle of tree branches, as if she was sitting by a clear riverbank. There was warmth that she wanted to taste, to bask in it, until it soaked into her skin and spread through her body. But it terrified her.

She turned, and walked faster. She did not dare to run-if she did, they would give chase, as all faeries did. Bella walked, turning onto the path that lead to her house.

But of course, they advanced, too. He followed her, almost silently. His glow dulled, as he tried to make his appearance more mortal-like.

As she approached the small town of Forks, she almost choked on her breath. The fey-they were everywhere, around shops, around the homes. It frightened, it terrified her.

"I'm meeting some people for coffee." The faery stepped closer to her, his voice sounding as if he was only inches away from her. "You want to come?"

"No…" She said, her voice quiet and hoarse. She walked faster forward.

"Some other night then." He followed her, and it was not a question, but a statement, a command.

"Actually, no." Bella replied. The deadgirl chuckled from her post behind him.

"She's immune to your charms, Keenan. Smart one, she is." Her voice was light, but there was a harsh edge to it hidden underneath her words.

He flicked his hand at her, signaling for her to be quiet. She hissed.

"Can I text you? E-mail? Something, at least?"

"No." Bella's voice was rougher, harsher. "I'm not interested at all. Please leave me alone." Her mouth was dry, partially from fear, and partially from hatred.

"But I am." He pulled a piece of paper out of nowhere and scrawled something onto it. He handed it to her. "Here's mine. When you have changed your mind…"

"I won't." She took it however, stuffing it deep inside her pocket. She avoid touching him, afraid of what the contact could do. Just get through with it and get away.

The Summer King leaned closer, sniffing her like an animal. "I'd really like to get to know you…" Bella ignored his statement, almost tripped over the flat surface of the road trying to get away. She was almost in a run, she wanted to run, but then they would chase.

"Run while you can…" The corpse girl whispered.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Keenan watched the girl, Bella, leave. She wasn't running, he knew, but she wanted to. He could feel her fear, the thrumming of her heart. Mortals had never ran from him, especially girls: only one other had ever done so in the past when he had played this game.

This one was afraid. Her pale skin became paler when he reached towards her, her face framed by her brown locks, making her look delicate. It gave her a easy appearance, a vulnerable look, easier to approach. Or maybe it was because of her small frame. He could just tuck her away from the world…

He smirked. She'd need some guidance on her attire-replacing the common clothes with finery, with a few bits of jewelry here or there. But that would be easy to do-at least she had long hair.

She would be a challenge, but it would be a refreshing challenge. Most of the girls he had picked were fiery and volatile. He had thought that it was a good indicator-the Summer Queen, fiery passion. It made sense.

Donia interrupted his thoughts. "She doesn't like you. It's easy to see."

"So?" He always got what he wanted.

The corpse girl pursed her pale blue lips-the only spot of color on her face.

Her blond hair had faded into the snowy, icy white. The pallor of her face that made her lips seem so blue-but she was still so beautiful to him. Even more so when she had taken over as the Winter Girl. Beautiful, but she will never be mine. Not like Isabella, who will be.

"Keenan," Donia snapped. As she spoke, wisps of cold air slipped out with her voice. "She hates you. She will never like you."

"She will." He shook off most of his glamour. Then he said the words that had always sealed every mortal girl's fate. "I've dreamed about her. She is the one."

With that, Isabella's mortality began to fade. Until she became the Winter Girl, she was his. For better, or for worse.

Review! Ask me questions if something is not clear :D

-BellaJ