Song — RICO Meek Mill ft Drake

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Bella's POV

Apparently Medora believed fear required a bit of hope, because Paul was placed in the same cell as me. It seemed as though the wolf healing gene was imperfect, as his wound refused to seal shut without some assistance on my part. Ben had chosen to remain in my body, but gave me back control as soon as we were in the cell.

I chose to use my newly freed mouth to punish him as I helplessly scrambled around Paul trying to find something to bind the wound. "You are a heartless, soulless, dead demon who needs to pass over and go to Hell." Tears flowed helplessly over my eyes as Paul let out a shaky, rattled breath that made my heart nearly stop.

Mere silence met my curses, but I could still feel the bane of my existence crawling throughout my skin. I elected to tear my flannel in diagonal strips and began wrapping it around Paul's smashed torso in order to bring the wound edges closer.

Once that task was as complete as possible, I took a moment to take in our surroundings. It was impossibly dark, with just enough light to make out the cell and the corridor. Our cell wasn't much other than stone floors and walls. Chains and hooks hung ominously around us, and a dog dish had been placed on our side of the bars.

With shaking hands, I edged closer to the dog dish and took a whiff. Water.

Paul would get that as soon as he woke up. Despite his superior natural abilities over my own, he was still human. I could last far longer without food or water than he could.

An unbidden image of the pack eating around Emily's table entered my mind. I tried not to gulp in anxiety at the thought of how hungry Paul would be when he woke up. The wolves always ate more food when injured.

My heart sank at the thought of a hungry, injured Paul. We were dead. Medora would grow bored of us, and we'd be dead.

I resisted the urge to pace the cell, to count all blocks of the cell with my hands, or to scream wildly. Instead I sat at a sentinel position besides Paul while I listened to his heart beating steadily.

Thank God. If he wasn't a werewolf, he'd be dead from my blade. Trembles wracked my body and I dared snatch his burning hot hand to soothe myself. Tired of the boring shades of black and grey, I chose to close my eyes. I took air in my lungs slowly in and then back out.

With Paul's heartbeat beneath my ear, I fell into a deep slumber that should not have been possible.

Footsteps woke me up some hours later. Ben stopped playing nice and I was once again riding bitch as we stepped through the corridor. Paul's vulnerable state caused me to buck wildly against those ghostly restraints Ben had put on my psyche. They didn't budge. The guard who'd beckoned us to follow him was a warrior-born fae whose arms were decorated with more vamp scars than my own. He felt old.

"Try anything and I'll break your legs." He rumbled. "Your grandmother gave me permission."

Anger coursed through me as Ben forced us to stare at the stair steps that we were ascending. Ben spoke. "I'm much weaker than you. It'd be idiotic to try to escape."

The cheery monotony of the dungeon was finally broken up by slightly less gray wallpaper as we arrived on the next level. Despite my lack of artistic sensibilities and ability to see color at the moment, I had a hard time coming to grips with the design choices. The gray, striped walls were contrasted with striped leather lounge seats. The carpet was the only monotone piece.

It was as though a mad person had gone wild with a decor catalog. Which, from all that I had heard of Medora, did not fit the bill. Grandfather had always made clear that it had been Medora's very rational hatred of humans that had caused her to betray our people in the worse possible fashion.

Fraternizing with vampires. Providing them with intel on how to get our young, their blood the sweetest delicacy. Enslaving children to brainwash them. Militarizing vampires and stolen children against fae for the ultimate end goal of destroying humankind. The list goes on and on.

My ears rang while the guard finally halted in front of a set of elegant mahogany doors. He grabbed an old fashioned handle and slammed it onto the wood. Once. Twice. I grew hot. My heart pounding in my ears. It wasn't me, Bella Swan, who felt nervous. It was Ben. My hands clenched within themselves, locking into suspenseful claws that felt unnatural. Adrenaline coursed through my veins yet somehow Ben stopped my ability from manifesting itself. Of course, my dead soulmate can somehow control my gifts better than I can. Of course.

Ben had always been prenaturally gifted. Despite I having relentless training from Drayer, it was Ben who had been the protege. I was just the bastard.

Such anger and loneliness... I'm sorry, baby. Ben thought soothingly to me in an almost distracted manner.

"Enter." A grand command. We moved further inside and the guard seemed to blend back into the shadows in front of us, despite the bright almost white room allowing no such a camouflage. Medora sat elegantly on a cushion. She cocked her head eerily at us while Jack stood sentry. "Isabella."

"Lady." The word rolled slowly off of my tongue.

She flashed inhumanly white teeth at me. "Call me Grandma."

A shiver ran through our spine. Ben inclined our head in polite agreement to her proposal.

Medora's eyes slid past us and towards the door expectantly. Several moments passed before I began to hear an odd slide across the carpet from the outside. It sounded lopsided and clumsy. The doors slammed open without preamble and the vampire who looked eerily like Paul slinked in.

The hairs on my neck stood on end when his ruby eyes met mine. He inhaled smoothly, and I wondered if anybody would stop the newborn from eating me. The venom coating his teeth was very visible all of a sudden, as if it were reacting to the scent of my faint apprehension.

"She smells delicious." He said eagerly. My eyebrows rose up into my hair. Something wasn't right.

"How're you keeping a newborn at bay with all of these fae nearby? They smell way better than me." I couldn't keep the curiosity out of my voice.

Medora laughed again, the sound far more sincere than before. "Science mixed with magic." She lifted her hand demurely while it sparked spectacularly in display. Magic.

It was beautiful and my eyes watered at the unexpected brightness of it. A powerful castor. One of the most powerful of our race. Sweat trickled down our back.

"My lady. Your grandson." Paul's father announced in a simperingly sweet voice.

The magic stopped dancing on her palm and Medora cocked her head in intrigue. "Bring him in. It's time for Isabella to see what's in store for her if she doesn't... cooperate."

Those doors opened again and that odd slide sound started happening again. And my blood ran cold and then so hot. Searingly hot. "We had to create that copy out of magic because my people were a little too enthusiastic in their work." Medora murmured with amusement swirling through her words, "I'm afraid we wouldn't of been able to get him to scream at this point."

If Harry Clearwater hadn't resembled a man with the curse Medora had thrown at him, Drayer was several steps worse. Anna would not be able to heal him in her first session. In fact, I could hardly hear his pulse resonate from his cauterized flesh. Bile crept up my throat and tears burned my eyes. My voice fled me.

Ben locked my muscles from moving. And the emotions built in the body we shared nearly combusted and consumed everything within. "I will do as you say." He worked my mouth once again to betray and burn the most basic bridge we had to one another: our love and respect of Drayer.

Medora's green eyes gleamed maliciously. "That is wonderful to hear, Isabella. We have several preparations to make in order to draw in Renee, and I'm afraid time is of the essence." She snapped her slender fingers demandingly and Drayer's non-responsive body was dragged away once more.

She approached me with dainty steps and my guard put a warning grip on my shoulder. "I have come to the realization that threatening your life is much more effective if you cooperate. Renee's forces are strong and bothersome, and a dirty play spicing up a simple hostage situation will simplify matters considerably." Her words were light and mechanical, as if she were speaking of the weather.

Ben listened intently to her words and expressions. Memorizing every detail and filing it away methodically. I was beyond thought while I raged all of my strength against my mental shackles.

"Your gift for disappearing is invaluable since Renee has an unfortunate lack of vampires in her employ. When her forces close on you and your brother during the fight, you will disappear. It will confuse the forces and create the needed distraction." Medora leaned forward lightly and brushed a wayward strand of hair off of our sweaty forehead.

I felt Ben's reluctant admiration for Medora's strategic chops. I roared in rage internally at implications that the "needed distraction" would mean for Mom. She could actually die that way, despite her insurmountable combat strength. A MIA Bella and near dead Drayer would be impossible for her or the troops to ignore. The purpose of their overall movements and purpose would go helplessly awry, giving Medora's people a huge advantage.

Medora removed her hand from my face. Those cold eyes slid away from me to the wall. "And if Drayer's state is not enough motivation to help my little scheme, my people remaining here will take care of your little puppy." She shimmied her hand away and suddenly the world snapped back to color in my eyes in a sharp explosion.

My guard dragged me away from that terrible room and it took all I had not to scream at the top of my lungs. Pain wracked my body and a headache exploded behind my forehead.

The descent down to the dungeon was hardly perceptible behind that pain. I was thrown to the ground and I went with the momentum. To no longer move was a blessing. Our cell door was slammed shut with a finality that seem suiting to the stuttering of my heart.

As blackness slipped over my mind into a thankless sleep, I realized Ben was no longer with me.

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Paul's POV

"Run for help, baby. Leave me." Gurgled words. Her dark eyes pleading with me. They followed me out of the door.

I ran as hard as I could, only I could feel that her eyes were no longer watching me. She was gone.

I heard an old laugh and felt a long forgotten hug envelop me as a periodic burning seemed to dance throughout my body. It held me together and I could feel my cells stitching together at a rapid pace.

My blood was a gift and a curse. It made my anger a deadly blade to any person near me, yet it healed me at a time like this. I needed to get to her, she was in trouble.

"Run, baby." Mom's voice became less of a memory when I forced my heavy eyelids to finally open.

My hands skimmed over my hip and side. Raw flesh, closed but still scabbed, met my hand. It was no longer dangerous, but several hours from fully healed. Remains of a tattered shirt stuck to the dried blood.

A low whimper sounded far to my right. Bella. I ripped the tatters off me as I slowly rose to my feet. My stomach rumbled dangerously, reminding me of the price of being healed. My body would start cannibalizing itself soon if I didn't eat.

I slammed to the floor next to my rabbit. Even with the low light, the cell was still as clear as day to me. She was still wearing her sad flannel which was missing significant strips in it.

Large tears were spilling from her cheeks and onto the stone floor. I pet her hair without much thought. Relief coursed through my body at the realization that we were still together.

Although there was no denying that she was the one who had stabbed me.

My hand froze in her hand as I remembered the ice that had spread over me. The imprint did not force my affection, but that cold... it wasn't quite Bella who'd stabbed me.

That damn ghost. What the hell is he up to?