A/N: So sorry for the long breaks between chapters. This one took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears (if you think I am joking, you are wrong). Anyways, I think a trip into Bella's unconscious is warranted. A new element of the story is being introduced a lá dreamland.
Summary: "He was my only…anything. Only kiss, only touch, only…fuck. I couldn't call it anything other than a fuck, because anything else hurt too much. He said it was a mistake, and making love isn't a mistake. Fucking is a mistake. Nonetheless, babies come from fucking. And my body was carrying a…baby." Bella awakens with a bit more clarity after her breakup-induced depressed stupor. With a biologically impossible situation at hand, Bella must find her way back to the Cullens and solve the problem that no normal teenage girl is fit to handle. New Moon AU, BxE.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Rated M for sexual content, mention of self-harm, adult themes, and adult language.
Chapter 11
"Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars, points of light and reason. ...And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason, for anything." — Edward Cullen, New Moon
x
Slipping into my unconscious didn't go exactly as it normally did. Blissful oblivion was not what met me on the other side.
Normally, my dreams crept up on me; my unconscious mind dragging me into their depths one wave at a time until I eventually was pulled under. The dreams were always so deceivingly soft before unleashing the full force of their monstrous creations, leaving me drowning and choking for breath in their wake. However, when I fainted in Carlisle's study, I felt as if I was crossing some mirrored chasm, my sense of direction flipped rapidly and gravity pulling me the opposite way. I was falling through the sky, plummeting down into a great, immense nothingness.
There was no cushioned transition. I went from conscious to unconscious the second my eyes closed.
My thoughts from before floated to the forefront of my mind. Disintegrating into the vast entirety of the universe truly didn't sound so horrible when my fate was so unpredictable.
My brain was so annoying sometimes.
As I fell, I remained silent, totally aware of my surroundings. Screaming would be silly. I knew I was dreaming.
I realized quickly that for the first time in my life, I was lucid dreaming.
Despite the horribly realistic nightmares I'd been having for months, I'd never had the pleasure of being aware of them. At least not to the point where I could realize it was all just a figment of my imagination, or whatever twisted part of my brain controlled my dreams. I'd been forced to endure them as if they were fact before being pulled from them, only to return to my ghostlike reality.
For a moment, I dared to consider that it was truly real, since it felt real—the brisk wind lapped at my skin with a painful realness, the air fragrant with a cool, pure scent I'd never encountered before; something untainted by pollution and fumes—but I felt the quasi-familiar fuzz of a dream lingering on the edges of my vision. I stretched a hand out, running my fingers through the gossamer texture of my reality. The air felt like damp cotton-candy, wispy and soft and wet.
As I plunged to the ground, I felt no fear within me. It slowly dawned on me that it reminded me of running with Edward through the misty Forks forests. In fact, the sensations were exactly the same, save for the cotton-candy air.
I shut my eyes as I prepared for the impact of the imaginary fist, pummeling into my chest, but blinked when I realized nothing came.
Huh.
Edward, I thought again, making sure the name had a chance to sink in.
Nothing. No increase in heartbeat, no clouded vision. I felt nothing as I fell to the ground. Despite my obvious weight, dragging me closer and closer to some unknown earth, I felt weightless.
I could think of him there.
The realization made total sense. Seeing him in my dreams was always a sort of wish-fulfillment until the horror began. The dreams never hurt until he made me hurt, the horrific memory of his goodbye not totally stained until the blood from my punctured heart began to escape.
Maybe I hadn't been so wrong about flying out into the universe before.
I felt my speed slow slightly as I reached the top of some atmosphere, a perfect dome with a microscopic world beneath. I could see the flashing of lights and tiny movement of civilization as I floated down, crossing the barrier only to enter and feel as I had never come from the blackness. I was falling through a never-ending night sky. I stretched out my other arm, stretching my wingspan as I fell to the ground. I shut my eyes.
I continued to descend, the cotton wind caressing my face. I only opened my eyes when it stopped.
As soon as I opened them, I fell painfully into some sort of boat.
What kind of dream….
I felt the buoyancy of the water beneath me, but I had landed face down, unaware of my surroundings. My body was sore all over my side and back, which struck me as strange considering I should have shattered my face.
I waited for the boat to still before pushing myself up with my arms. Other than the soreness, I was totally uninjured. The thought of my baby briefly crossed my mind, but I mentally waved it away, some innate sense telling me that the baby didn't exist inside me there. It was not a part of my worries.
As I pushed myself up, I lifted my eyes, trying my best to see where exactly I had fallen. The boat was still other than me pushing on it, indicating I was on smooth waters. As I peeked over the edge of the small, wooden boat, I saw totally still water surrounding me.
The sight was initially uncomfortable. Naturally occurring water wasn't still. It moved constantly, constantly gyrating by some strange force generated by the moon. I looked up at the thought, seeking some answer to my unasked query, only to see I was in the midst of a moonless night. It wasn't an all-too-unfamiliar sight, since new moons were typical of all moon cycles. However, what was unfamiliar was the picturesque sky, brilliantly lit by millions and millions of stars, far more detailed than anything I had been able to see, especially living in the constantly lit mammoth of Phoenix and the eternally cloudy Forks. The closest I'd come was seeing photos on the internet, taken by professional cameras in expensively distant places. I gasped, literally starstruck. My eyes followed the top of the atmosphere I had fallen through, shaping the curve of the galaxy in the concentration of stars. I turned my head to take in the rest of the landscape.
I was in the middle of what looked like an infinite volcanic lake, circular and extending for what looked like thousands of miles. The water was perfectly still, reflecting the image of the stars with perfect mimicry. My boat was the only disturbance in the whole body of water, and even it was still, my rocking not having an effect by rippling the water. I was thankful, as it didn't disturb the literal heaven above and below me, making me feel as I was swathed in stars. I lifted my eyes, spotting some darkness on the horizon. Mountains surrounded the circle, reaching jagged peaks topped with pink-tinted snow and snow-dusted pines. Despite the miles and miles of water, they were close, not as tiny as they should have been at the edge of the endless lake.
I realized in the back of my head that this was not possible, but it was my dream, goddammit. I could have infinite lakes with visible boundaries if I wanted them.
The world was seemingly bathed in a periwinkle light that gave the impression of the moments in the hour following the sun's dip below the horizon, the air aglow despite no light source in the sky or lightness in the clouds of the peripheral. I looked to my pale hands, illuminated by the stars and lit exactly as the snow in the distance. I turned my head, to see what was behind me, expecting more of the sprawling heaven, but instead saw the familiar figure from my nightmares. I began to suck in a shocked gasp, the action exaggerated by the slowness of a dream.
I didn't think it was possible for me not to be surprised by him.
He lay there, perfectly still and laying across the wooden bench at the bow of the boat. As he always was in my dreams, he was a perfect recreation of his exquisite real self. His frosty skin was even brighter than mine, glowing an ethereal blue in the starlight, making him look even more mythical than he normally did. In fact, I detected a slight luminosity as if his skin was refracting the light from the stars even from millions of miles away. His face was still inhumanly and unbearably gorgeous, thick brows with a straight nose and those ever-so-slightly full lips. I only wished his eyes weren't shut so I could see how his eyes looked in this strange world. I noticed with a frown that he looked a little more disheveled than Dream-Edward typically did, with deep shadows under his eyes, tousled hair, and an extremely off expression. I couldn't put my finger on its name. He looked strangely bored with a touch of…hopelessness?
I knew this heaven couldn't remain untouched by my perpetual nightmares. How long until the pain would begin?
Dream-Edward was an idiot. How could he be missing this vision? I wanted to do nothing more than stare up at the sky for the rest of my existence. This was by far the best nightmare yet. I almost wanted to pull my eyes away to look back up, but they were still fixed on the only thing that had ever rivaled that kind of beauty.
My gasp ended finally, reverberating oddly over the completely silent space. I waited for some sort of reaction. As it was my first lucid dream, how would I engage with this version of Dream-Edward? I'd never had to call the shots inside my own head. Dream-Bella was usually doing something stupid already.
His eyes opened, expression unchanging. At the angle in which he lay, I couldn't see the change in his eyes. He stared deadly ahead before suddenly blinking furiously. Had something gotten in his eyes?
He shouted, making me jump. "Damn this blasphemy!" His voice, normally soft and musical, had that hard, furious power that I'd only heard on a few occasions. It had to have been the part of his voice that could form the roar I'd heard in the ballet studio. The sound was raw and rough, his typically pleasant voice more akin to the guttural roar of the mountain lions he loved to kill. Chills broke out across my skin underneath my jacket, and I crawled back ever so slightly. If my heart was reacting, it would have been pounding. I realized belatedly that I couldn't hear it. At all.
In one of his mind-spinning vampire movements, he was sitting up, looking straight at me. I prepared for some sort of reaction, but as I looked at his face, I noticed the absolute blankness in his eyes. They stared and stared, burning somehow in their flatness. Flat black and hot red, all at the same time.
Black eyes. He hadn't hunted in weeks. That explained the bruises beneath them.
He looked at where I sat, but his eyes were unseeing. "Is someone there?" he whispered.
He can't see me.
I stared, jaw dropped. His senses were always so strong. He told me he was able to see the individual threads of my blanket when we were laying in total darkness in my bedroom, every ant on the tree outside my window.
Even in the strangest of my fantasies, I could not fathom what this meant.
Speak, you idiot, I thought.
I sputtered out a response. "Y-yes."
Nice.
His eyebrows lifted to his hairline, his hard expression turning into bewilderment. The face fell quickly before looking suddenly pissed. "Am I hallucinating now?" He grumbled, seemingly to himself. He moved to lay back again before I scrambled to speak, feeling some strange urge to give in to the dream.
"No, no, Edward, I'm here!" I spoke quickly, forcing down any nervous stutters. He had to be able to hear me. It slowly dawned on me that that perhaps was the key part of the nightmare. I could see Edward and all his mysterious suffering, but I could no nothing but watch.
He stilled his movements, before laughing and laying back down again. He crossed his arms behind his head, smiling bleakly at the sky. "After decades of hearing thoughts and then finally isolating myself to not hear said thoughts, I finally hear the ones I wanted to most. Cruel joke, world."
Relief flooded through me at the realization that I was not doomed to watch him helplessly. Unfortunately, the relief was quickly replaced. Dream-Edward was being rather pessimistic and it annoyed me. We were here in the most perfect of places—a place that could literally be only conjured within the realm of my dreams—and he had to spoil it by being moody. Then again, it wasn't an interaction with Edward without his wild mood swings. That was one of the things I hadn't missed.
"It's not a hallucination. It's a dream." I muttered, annoyance lacing my tone. I forced my eyes away from him, out towards the starry web around us. The view was utterly fascinating. I crossed my arms over the edge of the boat, laying my head sideways to peer upwards. I could trace the galaxy all day.
"It wouldn't be a dream if I were there." He laughed blackly. "Haven't you heard, Hallucination-Bella? I'm a demon." He was silent for a second. "A monster." His voice was suddenly disgusted. "Although I guess it makes sense for you to ignore that fact. She always did." His tone grew biting.
The dream was growing stranger by the minute. I'd never engaged with him for such a long period of time, my brain always choosing to start the pain-fest as soon as possible. Dream-Bella enjoying something couldn't possibly last long. My eyes dropped down to the water, and I lifted my hand to trail my fingers across the surface of the lake. My fingers simply dipped below, causing no change to the body of water. "You're wrong, Dream-Edward."
He was silent, so I decided to ask the first question that had popped into my mind from when I landed here. "Where am I?"
He laughed again. The sound made me uncomfortable; there was no joy, only bitterness and self-directed spite. "My own personal hell."
Dream-Edward was blind and…angsty? What was my brain trying to convey this time? He typically was the ideal, angelic Edward. He had the glowing part right, but where were the smiles? Those hypnotic golden eyes? He was supposed to be happy.
Also, he did not answer the question. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Typical Edward. "You always said that was what I was."
I heard the sound of his hand scraping over his stone face. I could imagine the image of it almost perfectly in my head. "Oh, you couldn't be more wrong." He nearly echoed my words, sending my head spinning.
x
I was pulled through the sky again, this time not free-falling, but yanked upwards as if by some colossal ripcord. Dream-Edward grew smaller and smaller beneath me, but I felt no loss or pain. Some sense told me I would see him again. This information was surprisingly easy to swallow in my ascent.
I awoke moments later, gasping loudly as I adjusted to the normal air. I felt cold, as if I'd just left a hot shower and stepped into Charlie's freezing bathroom. Goosebumps sprung up all over me, covering my bare arms. I noted the light draft from the open window in the back of my mind.
Wow.
What a strange dream.
They'd never been that vivid and I blinked as I realized that I could recall every single detail. I could never have imagined such a beautiful place, and the image was permanently etched into my mind. As I stared out into the unfamiliar room in front of me, my sight was still star-studded, slowly fading as my eyes tried to adjust. I blinked to rid myself of the blindness, just as he had.
I ran through the events again, my mind amazed. It took a second for me to realize it hadn't been a nightmare after all. I had seen him and Edward hadn't hurt me.
The feeling in my chest returned, and I sighed heavily. I knew I could not escape for it so long. I noticed with a small bit of glee that it did not hurt nearly as much as it did before. I did not allow myself to dwell on that thought, fearful of optimism. I was also still half-asleep.
I blinked again, forcing myself out of the dream and back into reality. I didn't typically have this much trouble after I'd woken up.
Maybe I had just forgotten what it was like to dream.
I looked around the unfamiliar room, slowly gaining awareness. I was in the middle of a dark bedroom, the sky outside the curtained window dark. Had I been out of it for that long? I couldn't see very many small details, my vision still blurry from sleep.
I lifted my hands to rub my face, a gut reaction to make sure everything was real again, but I felt a soreness in the crook of my left arm. I lowered my arms.
As soon as I had emerged from the euphoria, I was almost instantaneously drenched in the hellfire.
My left arm was wrapped tightly in gauze, the clear sign of blood having been drawn. This would have been understandable, considering Carlisle was a doctor who was trying to help my condition, if not for my arms being exposed.
My stomach dropped as my eyes swept over the nearly-forgotten scars, a bruised shade in the faint moonlight. I felt the same nausea I always did when I saw them, accompanied by the horror that came with the realization that they had been seen.
The feeling was choking.
My other arm was bare, as well, showing its own collection of grisly marks. That explained why I felt so suddenly cold. I had been dressed in my jacket in the dream, and I awoke only under a thin blanket. Even before I collapsed, I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt beneath the jacket.
Had they undressed me?
I didn't doubt it. I would have been intensely uncomfortable if Alice had not spent the better part of last spring helping me dress and undress for my showers. Her changing my clothes to take care of me wasn't a strange occurrence.
I could only imagine her shock.
Literally. Since I'd only seen her shocked once.
The color drained from my face slowly, my self-revulsion growing. Weakness. She'd seen it.
I rolled over onto my side, unconsciously curling into myself. I swallowed a sob, knowing they would hear it if I began to cry. I'd have to get myself back into the vampire habits again.
How could I have been so foolish? I should have listened to Alice and eaten. If I had just taken a fucking banana or something none of this would have happened. They wouldn't have felt the need to take my blood while I was unconscious, completely unable to stop them from rolling up my sleeves and seeing the permanent consequences of my weakness. I could have finished my conversation with Carlisle and Esme, explained to them the situation without them having to fill in the blanks, with small contributions from Alice's limited knowledge. We could have discussed a plan.
Instead, I was laying useless in the dark, weak and exposed.
Tears formed in my eyes, but I didn't blink them away. These, at least, were not weak tears. They were angry tears. Anger directed at myself.
Several fell onto my pillow before I rolled onto my back again, not wanting to dampen their fine linens. My Target sheets wouldn't be damaged by the salt of my tears, but who knew about their Egyptian cotton.
I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes following the curves and edges of the simple chandelier. They dropped lower as they finished their journey, falling on the towering shelves that were in front of me. Tall and filled with countless books and CDs and records…
I sat up, my heart pounding suddenly.
His room.
Agony ripped through me like a spear from the back, my chest trying to claw itself open and outwards, spitting my lungs and hearts out until I was nothing but a hollow cavern. My breath ceased, unable to draw in more oxygen.
I shot up from the bed, running towards the first door I saw on the right side of the room. I was relying completely on my flight instinct. I opened it, prepared to dart into a hallway of some sorts, but instead ran face first into a wall of fabric.
Oh…Jesus…
The smell wafted off the fabric and literally smacked me in the face, immediately dredging up thousands of willingly-repressed memories. Honey…sunshine….That torturously addictive scent….I forced myself away in disgust, my face a mask of terror and pain. Too much…too much…I backed away, closing the door quickly and running to the door across the room, ignoring the mysterious door next to the closet. That one had the higher chance of being an en suite bathroom. My intuition proved to be correct as I opened the door into the hallway, accidentally making it swing on its hinge from my urgency.
I padded down the hall quickly, my footsteps slightly muffled by the plush carpet beneath my toes. I turned to descend the staircase, having no destination other than not there, but ran straight into a vampire. Holding food. The impact of colliding with her rock hard figure sent me landing on my butt.
I heard the rattling of glass and the sloshing of liquid, meaning I had knocked over a glass of something. Thankfully, by the time I looked up to see the damage, Esme was catching it with one hand and supporting the tray of food with the other.
"Bella," she admonished, clucking her tongue. She put the cup back down on the tray before offering me a hand. "You're supposed to be resting."
Was she just going to ignore my deluded escape attempting? Surely she could hear the sound of my heart, pounding behind my ears.
She stared at me expectantly, her eyes warm and waiting. The coat from earlier was gone, revealing a white button down and corduroy riding pants. I hesitated before lifting my arm, but I ultimately didn't want to seem rude by rejecting her kindness. Her eyes stayed trained on my face. She spared me the shame of looking at my arms.
She moved to go back to his room but I couldn't lift my feet. What was I supposed to say? No, not that room. They were already being so hospitable. How could I sound so ungrateful?
I came up with an excuse suddenly. "C-can I eat downstairs?"
She eyed me warily before nodding. "On the couch. With a blanket. And television."
I nodded, grateful. We both turned around and descended the stairs.
She quickly set up a spot for me on their large sectional, tucking me in the corner with three blankets and a sweater. She handed me the pile offhandedly to make it seem that the sweater was in there by chance, but I knew she was doing that Esme kind of caring where she made as little of a fuss of everything as possible. She put on some mindless reality show that I actually found myself watching for a little bit.
I was surprisingly hungry for once and I happily ate the chicken soup. It was easy on my stomach and surprisingly delicious. In those moments of precious silence when I did not have to speak, Esme told me that she had just come back from a twenty-four-hour supermarket when she returned earlier, bags filled with produce and typical American groceries. I almost questioned her about the time, but I didn't want to speak before it was necessary. I was reveling in the food I was eating.
On the side, there was a quarter of a buttered baguette which tasted like actual heaven to me. After months of eating god knows what, I hadn't had a proper meal in far too long. The closest thing was when I made spaghetti for Charlie, but even then I had browned the meat a little too much.
I heard her flitting around the kitchen behind me, still not addressing anything of value. It almost made me feel normal. Almost.
She was chopping vegetables again and dumping them into a massive crock pot. Noticing my stare, she smiled. "Carlisle told me you would need to start eating a lot of broth based items to build your tolerance to food again. Thankfully, these are the kinds of meals I made back in my human days….He doesn't think you're quantifiably malnourished, but you were getting pretty close." Her voice took on a more serious tone and I noticed the sound of potatoes being chopped increase in intensity.
Malnourished? I blanched. I hadn't been eating particularly well for a while, but I was eating nonetheless. How had I become nearly malnourished? I thought my skinny frame was appropriate for a couple months of depression.
"He's coming back after nine, when his shift ends. He should have your blood results by then." She looked up to me again, smiling softly.
It quickly dawned on me that I had no idea what time it was. Did she mean nine at night? In the morning?
"What time is it?" I whispered finally, breaking my silence for the first time since we came downstairs.
She glanced at her watch. "7:30. PM." She winked as she added the last part for my benefit.
I internally cursed myself. I'd slept for almost twelve hours. Alice and I hadn't exactly discussed my return home, but she knew I couldn't stay here indefinitely. My time with the Cullens was definitely limited before I returned to my dreary gray bubble in Forks.
The thought made my weak heart crush just a little.
"Alice and Jasper?" I asked. If Alice were here, she surely would have found me by now.
Esme had returned to chopping, tearlessly decimating an onion. "They're hunting. Jasper wanted to take any necessary precautions while you're here. They both thought they'd be back by the time you awoke."
She didn't need to say any more. I understood.
The silence grew and I glanced over at her after a few minutes of getting sucked into the television again. I had seen her in my peripheral vision, looking up and down occasionally. When I looked at her from the couch, her mouth was open, but no sound came out. It dawned on me that she was trying to say something. Sometimes, Esme could be so surprisingly human it astounded me. Vampires being anything other than confident was…wrong. Foreign.
She noticed my stare on her and she squared her shoulders before speaking. "Today, when I saw you, Bella….before I even noticed what was happening in the office….I was overcome with such grief, such shame at how we have treated you. I saw you, so small, and I feel like I have betrayed you." Her eyes shone with a determination to speak her truth. "While I have no blood ties to you, neither do I to the rest of my children. I truly had begun to see you as my daughter. I still do, in fact. I still see you the same way I did the night of your birthday party. All I want is to just try to mend this situation with you. It nearly kills me to know that you have felt so much anguish over us leaving. Especially when many of us never wanted to leave in the first place….And now that there's a chance….a near certainty that you are carrying a part of our family, I don't think I could ever forgive myself if I continue to let you live on without contact with us. It was horribly cruel for us to leave with no way to reach us. This—" she gestured towards me—"is enough proof to show why that was a disastrous idea in the first place."
She stopped for a second to take a breath, but went onwards. "E—My son…I will never know his feelings. I spent decades trying to understand him. It was absolutely futile. I'll never understand why he does the things he does and typically it's not my place to try to stop him. But me not fighting against his request that we leave is probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life." She paused, eyes dropping and looking remarkably human again. "Bella, do you think you could forgive me?"
I stared at her blankly, unable to form a response.
My experiences with vampires typically included me being the vulnerable one, since I was figuratively and literally prey in the Cullen household. I had always been the one to feel weak, whereas each of them had intimidated me in their own, unique way. Esme, however, was the first to show weakness to me. And it made me want to cry.
My feelings of abandonment from the last month were practically screaming with full force, all of my healed scars open and bleeding. I knew she had not meant to put me through such pain, but that didn't make it go away. The pain was a reminder that, despite all of her sweet words, they still had left. No matter how much she regretted her mistake, I had been hurt. I had hurt more than I ever thought possible. There was no going back to how I was before I met them, a stupid teenage girl who desired nothing more than to live in a desert city and read an old book. Could I forgive her? Maybe not all of the others. But she was reaching out with compassion that I did not deserve.
I had no idea, but I decided to at least try.
Her stare was initially unrelenting, but I think she noticed my strange stillness and went back to cooking, pouring something into the crockpot. Meanwhile, I was furiously blinking away tears.
"Yes," I whispered after a long moment, my eyes dropped to the white, knit blanket strewn across my lap.
I heard the silverware clatter on the countertop and I looked up. She looked astonished. "You do?"
I nodded, looking away to conceal the wetness in my eyes. "You owe nothing to me. Why would you say any of this if there was no gain for you unless you were being completely honest? I've never doubted any of your compassion. It just took too long for me to realize that he was right. I was just never good enough for you guys. There's nothing to forgive," I spoke truthfully. A little too truthfully, in fact. Her brightly lit face seemed to have dimmed.
She placed the lid on the crockpot and walked over to me, coming to join me on the sectional. It shocked me when her cold hands grabbed my own. She stared directly into my eyes and I found it nearly impossible to look away.
"Bella, what do you mean 'he was right'? What exactly did he say to you?"
My face flushed at the horrid memory, but I was so transfixed in her stare that I felt the words spilling out. "That I was no good for you all." I struggled to paraphrase. Those were not his exact words, but I didn't think I could quote him without fainting again. After my last blackout, I didn't want to lose any more time with them.
I heard the sudden clicking of heels on the floor before stopping suddenly. I turned my head to see that Alice had entered the house again, the door from the balcony open behind her. I gasped as I took her image in. Her short hair was wet and inky from the rain that had apparently began to fall outside, starkly contrasting against her pale skin. It was plastered against her forehead, shiny and spiky. Her bright golden eyes were wide, glowing with fury. When she spoke, her teeth were almost bared. "Oh, I am going to eat him."
A/N: This chapter is more than it seems. Reviews are much appreciated!