Rosalie's POV

I came to the woods to hunt, but instead sat along the bank of a mountain stream, staring at my reflection, hating what I had become. The image reflected in the rippling pool was of unparalleled beauty. I was fifty times lovelier now than when human, but now only saw my beauty as a curse.

With a quick swipe of my pale hand I splashed the water, disturbing my reflection.

I despised my beauty. It was to blame for everything that had gone wrong in my life. If I were normal - not unattractive, but less beautiful - perhaps someone would have looked beyond what existed on the surface… and truly fallen in love with me. I wished for Vera's life: a husband who loved me, and beautiful children like her son, Henry.

What now? What was left without my hope for love and children?

Life was now empty and meaningless.

From the moment Royce left me for dead… my every breath, my every thought was focused on revenge. It was my solitary reason for being. My sole existence was consumed by my need to avenge my own murder. Now that Royce's blood was cold, there was nothing left for me in this world.

I felt empty, hollow. With my thirst for revenge quenched, so too was my purpose in life – if this truly was a life – extinguished.

Eternally beautiful… eternally alone… wounded beyond repair.

All I ever wanted was to be loved and wanted, to have beautiful children, and grow old with the man I loved. Was this too much to ask? But now life was over, every dream vanished. I would never gaze into a pair of wrinkled eyes and remark at the lifetime of happiness reflected therein.

What now? What did this immortal world hold for me? My new existent felt bleak, empty, devoid of hope. What was my beauty worth without love?

I wished for a way to be human again. To exist for eternity alone and childless, my womb forever barren, was too much to bear. I sobbed, but no tears filled my changed eyes.

I remembered chubby little Henry, balancing perfectly on my knee, smiling a huge grin with only two, tiny pearl white teeth.

The anguish of knowing I would never be a mother washed over me. I drown in my sorrow.

Esme tried her best to comfort me. She alone could identify with the pain and loss of a woman facing a childless existence. But Esme found happiness with Carlisle, a husband who loved her to the ends of the earth, who doted on her, and bore the spark of his endless affection for her in his eyes.

There was no one to love me as Carlisle loved Esme. Edward, though alone, had music to occupy his mind. All I could think about was the life I lost.

Without warning, a series of loud huffs and snorts interrupted my self-pity. I was irritated by this intrusion to my thoughts; and raised my head to glare menacingly at the source of the disturbance.

In the distance, I noticed a large black bear pacing back and forth, circling a dark-haired man fumbling with a rifle. The bear raised itself onto its hind legs, grunted, then dropped to all fours and charged the man. Startled, he dropped his rifle and ran.

The human didn't stand a chance. The 350-pound bear quickly closed the gap between them, knocking the dark-haired man to the ground. Pinned under the oppressive weight of the bear, the man raised his hands to block his face from attack. I could hear the sickening crunch as the bear tore into the man's hands with its sharp teeth.

Suddenly my eyes grew dark and my body tensed. Venom swelled in my mouth and I was overcome by bloodlust. Fire burned in my throat, the sweet smell of human blood sang to me, begging me to quench my thirst.

Overcome by instinct, I sprinted headlong towards the intoxicating smell. It took everything within me to stop myself fifty yards from the scene, where I stood and stared in shock as war waged within me.

I fought with all my strength to keep myself from approaching the man. I held my breath; but the smell of human blood, lingering in my memory, beckoned to me.

I balanced on the precipice as I watched the grim scene play out before me. The sharp claws and unforgiving teeth of the hungry animal tore at the hunter, shredding his flesh. I was eager to relish the taste of human blood flowing from his ragged wounds, but clung stubbornly to my resolve.

I watched, captivated, as the stranger writhed in pain. I remembered clearly the night I, too, lay bleeding, helpless, dying. I watched this stranger curiously, as the bear tore at his face, saturating his dark curly hair with blood.

With the dimples marking the pain in his stricken face, this unfortunate stranger appeared so pure, innocent as a child. Suddenly, something clicked deep within me. This man reminded me of Vera's little Henry!

Instantly, I was filled with an overwhelming regret, an intense longing for this stranger's life. I didn't want him to die, so much I would risk everything to keep him safe.

I flung myself at the bear, a hiss escaping my lips as I threw my body against its hulking mass, knocking him to the ground. The two of us - black fur contrasted against pale white skin - tumbled and rolled across the rocky terrain. We slammed into a tree, which shuddered and fell to the forest floor with a loud crash. The bear's claws raked feebly across my diamond-hard skin, shredding my clothing but leaving my flesh undamaged.

I furiously pound my stone fists into the creature, pummelling it until it no longer moved. Suddenly, I remembered the damaged stranger nearby, still badly in need of my assistance. I gasped, throwing the bear effortlessly aside, running to the dark haired man's side. Placing my hand on his face, I cradled his bloodied cheek, staring into his hazel eyes.

Blood streamed down his face. I could feel the warmth like a hot flame on my hand. I remained captivated by his gaze. All of the protective and nurturing feelings I held for precious little Henry resurfaced as I gazed into his trusting eyes.

His face was twisted in pain, each breath more laboured than the last. Assessing the extent of this precious stranger's injuries, I could think of only one way to save his life. I couldn't bear the thought of him dying. I felt as though my entire world was inextricably entwined with his fate.

I knew I didn't have the strength to press my lips against his warm neck, without killing him. I couldn't do this alone. As much as I hated this immortal existence, I would ask Carlisle to change this human to save him. I would beg if needed. I would not allow this man to die.

I scooped the bleeding stranger gingerly in my arms, and headed for home.

Running through the forest, I held the bloody stranger close to my chest. The warm red liquid pulsed from his wounds, bathing me. Though I hadn't taken a solitary breath since the handsome stranger shed his first drop of blood, I still struggled to tame the beast within me. The animal within wanted nothing more than to drain this man, of every last drop of the ruby warmth oozing from him.

Cradling the very image of Vera's little Henry in my arms, each second his blood tempting me greater than the last, I felt more monster than ever before.

Though they fluttered with the effort, his hazel eyes remained locked on mine. I was certain he must feel weak from the loss of blood, yet his gaze never left mine. I drew my strength and reserve from the absolute trust I read in this stranger's hazel eyes.

I couldn't shake the feeling my happiness rested with this wounded human's well being. Wrapped in my arms, the dying stranger looked up at me with his trusting hazel eyes and sighed in relief. He muttered a solitary word, "angel" and slipped into unconsciousness.

A tiny spark lit the dark emptiness within me, warming my cold, dead heart. I pressed on, carrying a fledgling ember of hope within my arms.

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NOTE: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Series from which this story is inspired and from which the characters and basic storyline for this composition have been derived.

Reference: Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse

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Thank you to Liebs8181 for taking a virtual red marker to my work.

Each chapter is significantly improved following your input. =)

Readers:

It will take some time, but there will be additional chapters coming!