Hey guys! I'm super keyed up right now. Expect another Essenza Update soon. Sorry about the lag in my other fics. Hopefully I'll get back onto Prude and Prejudice, as well as IA:2. Much love, you guys! THANK YOU TO MY BETA: labeano2002, without her this could not be possible :D
And also to my awesome reviewers. I shall reply to each and every one of you!
~Essenza Del Lupo~
Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state
A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
Until I realise it was you who held me under
Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids
Shaking through my skull, through my spine, and down throough my ribs
No more dreaming of the dead, as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow, for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl, so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl, so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world.
Blinding-Florence and The Machine
~ 1933~
Daddy's stockholders were growing anxious with the continual struggle of money. The market crash hadn't necessarily affected us too much, it was merely the warnings and suffering of others that kept our investors skittish and on the verge of selling their shares in his bank. At the moment, he was a busy man... busy, but hollow.
When I used to look in his eyes, before Evelyn died, I'd see dreams, shine, and a crescent moon. Now, when I actually had the chance to glance in his direction, there was the conspicuous absence of good. No stars to glimmer through his gaze anymore; they had only shined for Evelyn.
He had stopped drinking; I wished Royce would copy his example. I wasn't afraid for his health now, simply his sanity. He simply worked. He simply was.
How could I tell my father I was in utter turmoil when he was as barely alive as my mother?
What right did I have to further blacken the soiled cloud over his heart? It would be selfish and weak; I could carry this burden on my own, carry it like a heavy musket or hatchet: a dangerous secret.
Isabelle would have to be taken away; I would have to tell father we sent her back to Italy to throw suspicion off of where we will actually take her, to an isolated penthouse in the heart of New York City.
The wedding had been postponed due to financial crisis; Daddy was contributing some of his own money from our savings into the bank, to keep it from collapsing. It may have been a blessing in disguise.
I continually felt the slackened grip of happiness on my back, a constant struggle to turn around and look at, to feel; especially when it hid itself from me. I was beginning to think my angel didn't exist, or that this entity of happiness had no place on the Hale estate anymore.
Perhaps it was this house that provided a boundary, a gravelly pit of unease whereby no love and kindness could prosper anymore. Not when the flickering flame had been snuffed out. Evelyn was the warm ember.
The rest of us were chalky ashes, dissolute tunes, and recumbent, brittle memories in a faux library.
What mercy would we receive like this?
~0~0~
Present Day
"Can you fall asleep?" Jake asked, running his fingertips down my arm.
I refused to lay on my bed with Jacob; as much as I desired his intimacy in a comfortable environment, I'd become the worst person in the world if I went as far as having sex with him in the bed I used to make love to Emmett in.
It would be cruel, and selfish.
I was already enough of the two without adding more on top of it.
I breathed out lightly, my body still unfulfilled with the oxygen it absorbed into my lungs. I suppose, I wasn't technically alive, not without the ability to breathe, or a constantly beating heart. It only beat in short bursts.
I looked up at him as we lay on the bracken under the canopy of stars. We were in the clearing, a deserted circle of space, a pillar of singularity.
I felt as if I could pretend nothing went wrong here, nothing had gone wrong, or will go wrong. Jake and I were together here, alone, as the eternal. When I closed my eyes, I imagined our bodies laying here day and night, never moving for the wind, until the roots from the dirt encased our bodies; we become a part of the network of nature, humanity's souls, lovers entwined.
It looked as beautiful as a blossoming sunrise.
"I think... that I almost could..." My mouth opened of it's own volition, a sigh of air escaping.
I yawned.
"Vampires aren't supposed to yawn," Jake commented lightly.
I shook my head.
"They aren't supposed to cry either... or bleed. They also have life mates and now that's shot to shit, isn't it?" I added abrasively.
I could almost hear Jacob's teeth grind in agitation.
"That's not your fault, and you know it. You're just going to keep on blaming yourself 'cause you're too afraid to admit that it's out of your hands." His arm tightened around my shoulders.
I flattened my palm over the expanse of his chest, feeling like a small vulnerable human, clinging to a giant tree root.
His heart thumped under my hand.
"How do you know me so well?" I mumbled in faux irritation.
"I'm observant."
"Now, that's a lie," I chuckled, rolling onto my side to look down at him.
I leaned my chin on his chest as his hand smoothed down my back, an electrical therapy, sending sparks through my skin, raising goose bumps on my flesh. I was almost purring at the sensation, his other hand reaching up to cradle my face. He brought it down upon his, grasping both of my hips and effortlessly positioning me over his lap so I was straddling him.
Fully clothed, I began rubbing against him slightly, letting his tongue invade my mouth, slipping against mine. My moan resonated between us, lifting us, freeing us.
There was a dark serenity around us, an inky tangle of poisonous vines, tying us together as we tore our clothes apart.
Jake lifted me off him as I helped undo his pants; pants that Jasper had leant to him after he'd phased in my bedroom. I could almost breathe in the heady suspense of tonight. Like I was preparing for a battle, my body coiled and stretched against his, an elegant sensuality.
My clothes, changed from my bloody battle wear, were torn as Jake heaved them off. My cotton blouse fluttered to the ground like a weightless angel's feather. I almost smiled, as I thought how Esme would think the exact same thing. Odd, that she found divinity in something so ordinary.
Divinity in the mundane.
I felt the heat of his skin between my thighs as I sat back down on his lower stomach, panty-less. His large hands ran tingling streams up my legs, rubbing up and down. I reached between us, feeling my moisture coat my finger tips as I selfishly rubbed myself, aching for some friction.
Our eye contact seared, Jake's irises darkening as he stared at me, watching me do this to myself. He didn't stop, he merely squeezed my ass, moving me against him slightly, his hardened cock grazing my cheeks.
I bit my lip, losing sight of reality as the splintering ecstasy took over. His hands replaced mine and I leaned back, my entrance exposed. He slipped his fingers inside me with a guttural growl, an audible mark of possession.
I twisted in his grasp as he pushed his thumb on my clit, alternating pressure as I quivered. I moaned, lifting my hips slightly in offering. He groaned and I sat up straight, my moisture smeared across his muscled stomach. I turned my body, leaning down over his cock and taking it in my mouth. I hissed as he kept playing with my sensitive core, still unsatisfied.
After a moment of teasing, he relented, losing control and gripping my thighs before positioning my cunt over his face.
I panted, slightly hysterical as a new rush of pleasure shivered up my spine, into the pit of my stomach. My thighs closed around his head before I refocused on his beautiful length, my mouth covering his entire head and sucking gently.
He hummed against me, the vibration of his lips making me come almost instantly. Which only made me go faster on him. I took him deeper, a curse ripping through his throat. I licked and sucked, curling my hand around the base before I ran my tongue up the entire length, circling around the head as I simultaneously grasped his balls.
He twitched and tensed, burying his face back between my thighs. I grazed my teeth against him and he swore again, a colorful plethora of profanities.
He rolled us over, and his lips met mine once more before he lifted my left leg so I was basically lying on my side. He scissored my legs, fitting himself perfectly between mine before pushing his length inside me, a gasp and moan escaping me.
"Rosalie," he moaned.
The glow of him radiated out, impossibly brilliant against the darkened world.
There was movement against the backdrop of shadows.
~0~December, 1933~0~
The sun glared through my windows, making my eyes ache under the lids, turning them red. I scrunched my eyes closed, crinkling my nose. Mornings were a contemptuous necessity to life. I used to enjoy waking up to birdsong, the aroma of breakfast cooking. But this time of day felt as empty and bland as the rest of the hours that filled my life.
A disjointed poem of torment, raking over my heart like iron claws.
If I could paint my life, I imagined an ugly grey palette of color, smeared over wet paper to reflect the grim definite future, and possibly a splash of macabre red, to reflect the fiery volatility.
I watched the clock sitting on the nightstand with dismal indifference; it was past two-thirty in the afternoon. I should have been out of bed and decent. The inclination was dull, and those who would have cared whether I acted savory were literally dead, or emotionally dead.
Although it was my understanding that someone would notice if I didn't rouse at all. So, decidedly, I got dressed and combed my hair, washing my face, and applying some powder and rouge.
I pinned my brooch on, and sculpted my hair up delicately, finding a fine sanctity in the routine. It made it seem as if no time had passed.
But then again, it had, and I felt the heaviness of my depression weigh down on me, as if it thickened my blood and pricked at my heart.
I sluggishly made my way downstairs just as Royce came home.
"Early," I commented slowly, walking arrogantly past him as he made a move to embrace me.
He sighed, and left the room, obviously having no will to deal with the guilt invoking stares I threw at him.
The night grew chilled with the sun setting, the weather outside turning from rain into a flaky sleet. The closest thing to snow, before it could actually start snowing. I stared out of the windows in the day room as it slowly turned to night, remaining interrupted throughout, until finally, I saw the white haze of snow fall flitting to the ground.
Our new housekeeper, Isaiah, a young black man from South Carolina, was preparing dinner. There were just four days left until Christmas, the tree was set up high and twinkling in the sitting room. I wandered to the dining table as Isaiah coaxed William and Henry from their bedrooms. I wandered into the next room, the fire roaring beyond the sofas. I watched Royce leaning tensely against the mantelpiece. He had an empty scotch glass in his hand, as per usual. The fire flickered golden light against the crystal facets.
"Let's go for a walk," I requested softly, holding my hand out willingly for him to take.
A spark in his eye, he set the glass down, which elated me momentarily before he picked up a bottle full of the acrid substance.
I sighed but allowed him to bring it along, although grudgingly threw the offending drink a malevolent glare.
"We shan't be long," I added as I pulled my coat down from the wooden stand and gathered my scarf along with it.
Royce followed suit amicably, opening the large wooden front door for me and leading me out into the chill of the snowy night.
I wrapped my arms around myself, admiring the bare skeletal trees on either side of the drive, a hauntingly beautiful salute to the cruelty of winter.
Royce gripped his bottle like a child would grip a blanket and sidled up to me. We walked, and nothing was spoken. Our feet made a printed circuit in the light layer of snow and slush on the ground.
I made my way through the backyard of the estate, far from the interruption of my family, and only with a mere, dull light, glowing from the frosted windows of the house.
"What are we doing, Royce?" I asked, turning to face him with a collected expression.
"Why must you keep punishing me?" he demanded sadly, in a slow whisper.
Did I have any inclination to hurt him? My own internal question caught me off guard, as if my mind had been ignoring that possibility for months. That I would in fact, want to hurt him, the way I hurt.
I hurt so badly.
Why must I be the only one to suffer?
"I wanted you to understand, to know what you've done has broken a part of what we have," I explained, unable to maintain my calm.
"You don't need to act like a wench to get the message across, Rosie. I'm not as idiotic as Jonathon. I do understand when a relationship is being sabotaged."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"My father has nothing to do with this, and you have no right to speak of him and mother. I could only envy what they had, what my father still has for her despite her death. You and I will never come close to their love. Do you know why?"
Royce had gone quiet, eyes slitted in challenge.
"It's because you're a coward!" I hissed maliciously.
His lower eye lid twitched on the left side, and I swore I saw the devil lying beyond those irises. He raised the bottle to his lips. The glug and swish of the liquid inside was the only noise I could hear besides my own ragged breathing.
Before he lowered it his hand and raised the other, slapping it hard across my cheek.
I gasped at the force and found myself stumbling, unequipped at that moment to maintain balance. I fell like a broken statue, shattering on the ground.
My palms tried to break my fall, collecting the rough surface of the ground and skinning them. I cried out in shock and pain. Royce spat on the ground beside me, dropping his bottle. It didn't break against the softened surface of the snow. It was unbreakable, forever present.
He squatted at my side and I sniffed, tears flowing. The darkness of the trees around us provided a canopy of cover, hopefully no one saw Royce's overreaction.
He reach out to brush my hair from my face in apology before I reached out, curling my fingers and clawing at his hand with a fierce stroke. He growled, pulling his hand back and fisting it as I scampered to get to my feet.
"Oh, God," I cried as he shouted at me.
"Rose! This is enough!"
"Stop, Royce. I won't say it again! This is over. The marriage is off!" I shrieked.
He stood a few feet away from me, an odd look to his face. A resolve he had come to. An angry, bitter hate mixed with unquenched desire.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes.
My body slouched slightly, a guilty weight on my shoulders as I realized I was successful in hurting him.
"Royce," I stammered weakly, a sob breaking free.
It was over and I stumbled closer to stupidly comfort the man I hated to love.
His head was lowered, his hand curled around his chin and cheek as I got closer. I touched his hair and his head shot up, a yell raking up his throat as he grabbed my arms, pushing me back with such force so that he fell on top of me.
I shouted. He cried.
I screamed. He whispered.
He tore my clothes apart, pulling at my arms and legs, fighting to take something from me. I sucked in a breath, but his hand closed over it, pressing so hard it hurt my teeth. And as he pushed my dress up, it gathered the snow around me, encasing me in the freezing ice, a crying cadaver.
The clink of his belt coming undone finalized what I knew would happen.
The pain confirmed it.
The burning was unbearable, my head tossing back and forth, my arms reaching out to scratch at his eyes but holding no purchase.
I should have hurt him more. I should have run.
His hands touched everywhere, soiling everything. Like his hands were covered in a black ink of corruption, and my skin was the lily white paper he was creasing and tainting. The black marks covered my body, and I was wrenched from childhood, taken from happiness.
I let my face fall to the side, staring off into the distance at the dead trees with a deadened sight and a numb body.
My stomach hurt, my throat constricted.
And I wondered why my stone angel hadn't come to save me, why I couldn't become something powerful, something great.
I cried and begged for mercy in small whimpers.
My eyes to the sky, beseeching, as he became rougher, I pleaded to my mother.
A small plea to the only person that could help me, and also the only person that couldn't.
I kicked my legs out and I must have struck him, because he cursed loudly, pulling on my shoulders and lifting my head from the ground to strike me in the face repeatedly.
I wanted death, now, more than ever.
It was the only thing that Royce successfully delivered, and I could almost forgive him for granting me that one mercy when he slammed my head into the stone garden seat off to our left.
I knew I would die now.
I'm on my way, Evelyn.
I felt my limp body being carried, the smell of Royce's breath was heavy on my nose and then my back was on the ground, my head lolling until I felt my face half buried in water and snow. I knew I wasn't on the Hale estate anymore.
And I knew I wouldn't see Royce again.
A small smile turned the corner of my lips up before my body began to burn.
~0~Present Day ~0~
Jacob tensed immediately, and I was preparing myself for ashamed humiliation if the movement was Emmett.
I hastily covered myself, reclothing and throwing Jacob's clothes at him. He ignored it, and lowered himself into a crouch.
"Jake!" I hissed.
"Relax," Edward murmured, appearing on the edge of the clearing.
"The pack is wondering where you are, Jacob," he claimed. "They've found a trail. We think it might be a newborn. The scent is fresh."
Jacob phased, a growl ripping from his throat as I hesitated.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked humbly.
Edward shot me a look of apology.
"You have to stay here; the others have spread out to canvass the area. Regular protocol for them, Rose. It's not safe for you to fight," he said before disappearing after my wolf.
I spun in the opposite direction, heading for the Canadian border and the Olympic range.
I caught a trail, the smell slamming into me as if it were a physical wall. My head snapped left, and I followed it, feeling a familiar sense of awareness and foreboding.
This trail would lead me to a newborn. I needed to be prepared. I was weakened, but I couldn't not help. I was still a part of this battle. I might not be the center of it, but I wanted to help my family. I owed it to them. I owed my loyalty to Emmett, and the others, as well as Jake.
"I knew you'd follow my scent. It's just instinct isn't it?"
My feet slammed into the ground, my shoes digging into the soil before I was at a complete stand still.
I listened silently, pivoting on the spot, trying to search for the voice.
"You're in denial," they chuckled.
I zeroed in on the pale, stone hand resting on a tree trunk a mere twenty feet away, and let out a wicked snarl.
"Where's Victoria?" I growled, curling into a crouch.
The pale hand disappeared before a whole body appeared.
My body numbed and I felt my heart thud animatedly before I crumpled to the ground at the sight of him.
Royce smiled, pale, and like death, a white shadow of his former human darkness.
"Now, now, Rosie. Let's not get sentimental with our reunion. And what makes you think I have anything to do with that red-headed wench?"