Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Moonlight.

A/N: Okay…so these next three chapters are each probably going to fall a little on the short side…but I want to examine this pivotal moment from the three main points of view…Mick & Beth's first, then Sarah and Paula's, and then Josef's. I hope you enjoy my technique with this. ; )

A/N2: The poems at the beginnings of this and the next two chapters, are quoted stanzas from Alfred Lord Tennyson's Maud—taken towards the end of part 1. Tennyson is one of my very favorite poets…his use of rhyme and rhythm is incredibly beautiful, his poems just flow…they are masterpieces of language. I highly encourage you to look up his work. The stanzas I chose, remind me of Josef and Sarah. : )

A/N3: I know it is a big 'No' in writing to switch tenses mid-chapter…but I am playing around with present tense for effect here. Hopefully, you'll like it.

Much love, and many heartfelt thanks to all my readers!!!

Please forgive any typos.

Enjoy.

The Soul of the Rose

And the soul of the rose went into my blood,

As the music clash'd in the hall;

And long by the garden lake I stood,

For I heard your rivulet fall

From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,

Our wood, that is dearest than all.

~Maud, XXII, 6

* * * * * * * * * *

"Mick! Oh!...Oh God!" Beth screamed as her orgasm ripped through her body, leaving her back arching up off the sofa, her hands clutching Mick's shoulders as he pounded himself into her. A deep fire was burning outwards from her smoldering core, her knees bent and Mick nestled between her thighs, his fangs scraping against her bare breast. All clothes had long since been tossed aside.

Mick trembled, thrusting in and out, hitting her sweet spot just a little deeper each time he filled her. Beth could already feel another orgasm building. Her body was on fire with ecstasy, her mind a jumbled purple haze of passionate kisses, biting teeth, roaming hands, and licking tongues.

Silver eyes shone in the air above her, hypnotizing her—her fiancé's magnetic gaze. Low growls sounded from the depths of Mick's throat, "Beth…Beth!" Beth had never heard anything so sexy. One hand held her waist, while the other cupped and caressed her breast, squeezing in all the right ways. Mick knew how to pleasure her, and he did it with joy, bringing Beth once more screaming to the precipice. He loved the effect he had on her, just as she loved the response that just a few touches or even looks could evoke from the vampire.

She threw herself upwards, spilling her long, yellow hair across his shoulders as they embraced—Mick was her center of gravity, and she was his, and they revolved around each other, their love equally strong and only growing more beautiful every day, every moment they were in each other's arms.

Beth pushed her body into Mick's, as close as she could. Their forms melded together, the curve of Beth's waist sinking into Mick's thrusting hips, the smooth turn of Beth's stomach pressed into the velvety softness of Mick's chest. Her long legs, shaking with sensation, curled within his, as they moved together, as one, on the sofa—each giving, each only yearning for their mate's touch.

Beth's kisses became more urgent. Sweat dripped down her chest, a tiny bead hovering on her nipple. With a dark gleam in his silver eye, Mick lowered his head to her breast, tongue darting out, leaving her skin warm and wet.

It was too much. Beth screamed his name, "Mick!!" She tumbled into the fiery abyss, as agony and ecstasy crashed over her, sweeping her away in its power and passion. The strength of their love drove any stray thoughts from her mind as spasms of pleasure and desire racked her body, her hips wildly bucking upwards, screaming her throat raw.

With a roar, Mick thrust one last time into her, sending Beth into further orgasmic delight, as he came on top of her. His hand around her waist squeezed painfully, his muscles convulsing, his eyes rolling back as he panted. He bit himself on his arm, and greedily sucked at his blood, needing it to fulfill his pleasure.

When the orgasms faded, he collapsed on top of her, his murmuring breath against her cheek, "I love you…Beth, my Beth…"

Beth lay, too stunned to move, too tired to do anything but stroke the back of his head, and coo to him. She lifted her head a little, scattering his chest, his jaw, the sides of his face, his lips, with her soft kisses, each one given with her love. Mick raised his head, cupping her face with his hands and leaned down, kissing her slowly.

Their bodies moved against each other, creating friction. Beth rose up off the cushions, her swollen lips opening to Mick's gentle touch, her arms trailed around his shoulders as she pressed her naked self to him.

She pulled back, looked him the eye. Her gaze was full of a dark passion, of lust and desire, of need and want, of love. "I want you," her voice was low, a husky whisper.

She leaned forward once more, and slowly kissed him. She relished the sound of his ragged breaths as he fought to control himself. She broke the kiss again and lay back on the cushions—her golden hair fanning outwards around her shoulders, framing her pale face within its fiery halo. One hand she rested across her stomach, the other she reached up to caress Mick's cheek. "Take me," she whispered. "I'm yours, for always."

Mick looked down at this vision of beauty that lay before him, and felt as though his heart would burst. He closed his eyes at Beth's touch, his lashes trembling against his cheek. How am I so lucky?

"Beth…" he breathed. Beth was his, she was his—body, heart and soul. Both man and vampire rejoiced within him—he had found his mate, and now he would take her, make her his in every way possible. He had won over her love, just as surely as she had captured his for all eternity.

He gazed at the sight of beauty before him. Beth was an angel, his angel and his redemption. She healed the wounds in his heart, filled him up when he had been empty, showed him the way when he was lost, her kisses were rubies, her hair spun gold, her eyes shining sapphires. And she was his.

Her soft voice, the one that called to his soul, whispered to him, "Take me." Her palm on his cheek, her delicate fingers tracing his skin.

He can feel her love when she says, "I'm yours, for always."

It's too much. He swallows, reaches out with trembling fingers—slow, oh so slowly. He wants to make this last, he wants a memory to cherish forever. His fingers give the barest of brushes against her skin, and she sighs, her warm breath washing over him.

He continues to run his fingers softly over her figure. He does nothing else, but relishes the feeling of her, silky beneath him, her face one of longing, of love, of anticipation.

He moves his hands down to her chest, fingertips swirling against her nipples, where they are sharp and standing, ready for him. He leans down, and breathes, slow and softly over her breasts, and is rewarded with the sound of her gasping as small goosebumps rise. She twists under him, moaning his name, and he growls with satisfaction.

He takes her breast fully in his palm and gives a gentle squeeze.

Beth tosses her head wildly, her hips thrusting upwards, crying with pleasure, "Mick…oh god…"

He trails his thumb across her nipple, pinching slightly, feeling her body react to his touch, to him. His hands caress her, and she mewls her pleasure. He can feel her wet and ready for him, and she pants, "Mick…Mick, I need you inside me. Take me, take me."

"Not yet," he whispers. Her hips thrust against him, seeking what he is denying her. "Please, please…" she begs.

His angles himself to lower his mouth to her stomach, tongue darting out to lick playfully at her belly. He slides a hand down to her thighs, and pulls, squeezing her curves. Beth is wild, her whole body trembling, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He can hear the frantic pounding of her heart, her heart that beats for him alone.

He stares into her eyes, letting his adoration, his love, his soul fill his face. "I love you," he whispers. "I am yours, always." And then he lowers his head down, taking her breast in his mouth, fangs scraping ever so slightly against her skin, as he plunges two fingers inside her core.

Her orgasm rips through her, as she screams silently. Her head is thrown backwards, lips parted, as her back arches off the couch, her entire body leaning into his touch, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her, stroking and pressing into her sweetest places. She comes again and again, screaming, panting, gasping, trembling. "Mick! Mick!"

He pulls his fingers out, and pulls away from her breast, moving himself into position above her. She is still racked with desire, her need pulses through her. Without wasting another second, he plunges himself into her, hard and fast. Beth orgasms around him, as he builds and builds towards his own climax. His mate's moans mingle with his growls as he cries her name over and over, thrusting, lost in the red and purple haze of their love.

With one last thrust, he comes, screaming his way inside her, spilling his seed inside her body, filling her up with him. "Beth!!" Words fail him, and he can no longer think, just react to the feeling of Beth falling apart beneath him, as he falls apart above her.

He's drinking…her blood…Warm gentle caring curious scared terrified trust passion desire, Love. He's bitten her neck, and he drinks, as he spasms around her. He listens to her heart, and sends her his joy, his hope, his own love and emotion back to her.

When he is done, he collapses on top of her, and there is only the sound of their ragged breaths. Only the touch of their shaking bodies, as a warm glow fills them. No words are spoken—there is no need. Their love runs deeper than any words can express.

Beth's eyes blink languidly up at him, clouded with emotion, and he knows his gaze echoes hers.

I'm yours, always.

Mick pushed himself up, pulling himself out of Beth, and then promptly collapsed next to her. "That was…" he trailed off.

Beth leaned up on her elbow, "I believe the word you're searching for is 'perfect.'" She smiled and kissed his lips, softly, gently.

Mick own smile shone back at her, "Yeah. That's what I was searching for." He reached a hand forward and cupped her cheek, and then turned her head slightly to inspect the side of her neck, where he had bitten her in his passion. His brow furrowed, "I shouldn't have taken more blood from you," he said. "Beth, are you okay?"

She snuggled into his side, "More than okay," she murmured, eyes closing, as she wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him to her like a giant teddy bear—with fangs.

Mick whispered, "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Beth opened her eyes, briefly sitting up long enough to tease, "You certainly are."

Mick chuckled. Beth's attitude was just one of the many things he adored about her. "Have I ever told you how much I love your modesty?"

Beth's blue eyes sparkled as she asked, "And what modesty would that be, Mick St. John?"

He pulled her down for another kiss, "Exactly, what modesty?"

She broke the kiss, feigning indifference, "Hey, I am to modest."

Mick grinned, playing with the tangles of her hair where it spilled across his face, framing Beth in a golden ring. "Says the woman lying naked on top of me," he teased gently.

Beth smothered a smile, "I've always said modesty is overrated." Her kisses started to become a bit stronger…a bit needier.

Mick responded.

They were lost in each other, locked in passionate embrace, when the telephone in Mick's office rang. Neither of them even noticed, they were so caught up in their actions. The office phone shrilled four times and then fell silent.

But almost immediately it rang again.

This time it was noticed. Its shrill ringing cut through their embrace, like a splash of cold water, and Beth pulled away, panting, "Do you need to get that?"

"Work can wait," Mick growled. "All I want right now is you." He resumed the kiss.

The phone rang again. This time, it was Mick who broke the kiss. Beth's eyes were now a little worried. Someone was obviously trying to get a hold of Mick, and three phone calls in a row was a pretty clear message that whatever the emergency was, it couldn't wait.

Beth looked at Mick, "You need to answer that," she stated firmly.

Mick nodded and moved away from her. He stood reluctantly, crossing the living room, and stepping past the dining table at vampire speed. Beth trailed three of four steps behind him, wrapping her naked body in the sofa's cashmere throw.

The phone had stopped ringing by the time Mick reached it—he had missed the call again. But he wasn't disappointed. It immediately rang again, as though whoever was calling him was hanging up and instantly hitting redial.

Mick was concerned. Who could be calling him this late with this urgent insistency? It can't be Josef...? Mick hadn't heard from his friend since Josef had left for New York…he knew that the laws of conclave prevented Josef from contacting him. If Josef was calling him…something was seriously wrong. Glancing at Beth, he could tell that the same thoughts had occurred to her.

Mick didn't waste any more time, but picked up the phone, "Mick St. John," he answered, brisk and to the point.

A slightly familiar voice reached him on the line. Mick knew he had heard it before, but he couldn't quite place it. It was a woman, and her voice was nearly hysterical, "Mick St. John? Is this Mick St. John?" Her voice was small, tight, shaking with nerves.

"Yes, this is he…I'm sorry but who—" Mick didn't get the chance to finish as the woman on the line burst into tears. Mick was growing more worried by the second. What's going on?

He spoke loudly into the telephone's receiver, "Ma'am, ma'am, I need you to calm down. Please. Please calm down and tell me who you are."

Mick listened as the woman took several, deep gulping breaths on the line. When she spoke next, she had regained some measure of control, but Mick could still hear the tinges of panic in her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. St. John. I'm not usually like this. I've just had a bit of a shock tonight."

"It's all right," Mick soothed. "Take your time. Please, have we met before? Your voice sounds very familiar."

The woman's voice wavered back at him, "Yes, we've talked once before. I'm impressed you can remember, it was many years ago. Mr. St. John, it's Paulina Hendee—Josef hired me to look after Miss Whitley. You remember? He gave me your number. He told me to call you if anything happened while he was in conclave."

Mick felt as though a heavy stone had fallen into the pit his stomach. Oh god, no. No. Not this. Not now. What will I say to Josef? Mick closed his eyes, as he asked the question that needed to be answered, "Is Sarah dead, Paula?"

He heard Beth gasp, and he could smell her sudden grief—sorrow on Josef's behalf. Mick's own stomach churned inside him. Oh Josef…Josef was in conclave—he wouldn't know, he wouldn't find out until her body was buried--past the chance for him to make his final goodbyes. Mick knew that as deep as his love was for Beth, Josef's was just as powerful with Sarah. How can I tell him? How can I crush his hope?

Mick realized he hadn't heard the last thing that Paula was saying. "—Mr. St. John? Did you hear me?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, Paula. I missed what you said."

The edge of panic was still in Paula's voice, as she responded, "I said, Miss Whitley is awake. I need you to come to New York right away."

~Finis~

Oh yeah, the action is so kicking off now... baahahahaha!! : D

I can't convey to you how much I would love a review from you...even if it's just a word or two, to let me know if you enjoyed the chapter. Please. It's my only reward, and they keep me inspired. Who knows, if people stop reviewing, I might lose inspiration, and not finish the story--no, no, I would never do that...but I scared you lurkers for a second didn't I? So pretty please review.

Hugs to all my awesome readers! : )