A/N: Wow! Thank you so much to everyone that took the time to review this fic after I posted the last couple of chapters. It made my week to see that people are enjoying this story (as toxic as it can be at times). I hope you enjoy this next chapter and please let me know what you think.

Too Soon

I press my cheek against the glass pane of the window of Aro's bedroom. Fog spreads across the glass, growing in surface area with each gasp I release; it is only made worse by the tears pouring down my cheeks. The celestial gown I spent the night waltzing around the room in is soaked with rain and mud. It clings to my body - hugging every curve. I'm freezing, but I refuse to change, still wallowing in my own sorrow. Even with my flawless execution of his orders and presentation of such a wonderful ball, I only managed to acquire his ire. Everything I do makes the man angry. When I speak out, he rages at me. When I comply with his every whim, he still finds a way to throw a fit about something. There is absolutely no pleasing him.

And yet, all I long for in my life here is to please the bastard.

I sigh, pulling away from my perch with the speed of a sloth. Depression calls to me with every centimeter of movement, and I soon find myself wrapped up in his quilt and curled up in his bed. Because even though I know he is a maniac, his scent is the only thing that brings me any real comfort. My only relieving refuge.

The doors to the suite burst open and the presence of my mate flows over my skin, prickling at my spine. I can feel his anger pouring out of him and permeating the room. It suffocates me. But I do not move from my position under the blankets, tears still pouring down my cheeks. Minutes pass like this before I feel the rage recede and shortly after, the bed dips beside me. Still, I do not move. The strength to deal with this vampire is gone, it disappeared with his cruel treatment of me hours before.

The quilt retracts slowly and I let out a soft whimper, refusing to meet the vampire's gaze or even acknowledge his presence. He slips in next to me, pulling the blankets back over my shoulders. "I am so sorry, sweet Isabella. I should not have taken my frustration out on you."

But there is nothing he can say in this moment to fix the hurt he caused me tonight.

When his fingers begin to rub my scalp, I pull away from his touch.

Silence rings out like the town bell. He doesn't leave though - not this time. Hours pass like this. I try to force myself to sleep, but chills start to work their way through my body. Eventually, I succeed and drift off into a dreamless land.

When I awake, it is still night, and I can still feel him next to me sitting more rigid than before.

"Isabella," he murmurs, worry laced in his voice. He presses his icy hand against my forehead. "Are you ill?"

I sniff and turn away from him. My body drifted towards him while I slept, completely betraying my resolve. Truthfully, I think I am ill, feeling sicker than I've been in a very long time. But I do not want to give in to his suddenly caring demeanor. And even that does not last long. Aro sighs, irritation laces his breath and only grows as my silence continues.

"Answer me," he growls.

At his words, I finally meet his gaze, glaring at him in the darkness of the room.

"Leave me alone," I rasp.

"Not if you're ill, Isabella."

"I don't wish for your presence, Aro."

The vampire swiftly gathers me in his arms and presses my body into his. His chest rumbles in frustration while I weakly struggle against him. I can hardly spare the strength to fight, but I try nonetheless.

"Put me down. I am not your doll."

"Hush, little one," he purrs, obviously trying to take a different route in dealing with me.

Then, the world around us blurs. Aro is running. It takes seconds to reach his destination, and when I finally gather my bearings, I realize that we are in front of Marcus' study. Instead of shifting me, Aro kicks at the door, attempting to simulate a knock. Marcus opens the door a moment later and raises his eyebrows when he sees us.

"Hello, brother," he smirks, eyes darting between us. "What brings you to my study at this hour?"

Aro pushes past him, and upon reaching the lounge on the other side of the room, gently deposits me onto it.

"Isabella is ill," he starts, glancing over to his brother. "But she refuses to communicate this to me…"

Marcus' amused composure quickly shifts into one of genuine concern and he appears in front of me a second later. Another hand finds its way to my forehead, and a sigh from the morose man elicits a grumble from my own chest. The attention is unnecessary as I am quite capable of taking care of myself. What does Aro not understand about leaving me the hell alone?

"Cara mia," Marcus tuts, eyeing me cautiously. "You have a fever. How are you feeling? I would like to assist in caring for your needs."

The concern I witness from the man is genuine and my heart melts in true adoration for my newfound brother. Relenting, I relay my symptoms to him; stomach pains, chills, hot flashes, a throbbing headache, the full works. All the while, Aro looks on, his anger boiling with each word I speak.

"And just why did you refuse to acknowledge my questions about your health this evening?"

"What do you not understand about leaving me alone?" I counter, venom lacing each syllable.

He growls at me, the intensity of his glare bursting into a full-fledged fire. And then he is gone, leaving the echoing of a slamming door and an irate roar in his wake.

But his departure does nothing to make me feel better. Instead, it leaves a rather irritating ache in my chest. I move to sit up, but dizziness overcomes me, forcing me to retreat back into the pillows.

"Give him some time, sorella," the warm voice of Marcus speaks, his demeanor soft and sad. "He does not know how to love, I'm afraid."

I let out a humorless laugh.

"Is that what you call love?"

Marcus shakes his head. "No, but I see the change in him every day."

"Marcus, he-"

"He is your mate, Isabella. He still does not know how to be a mate, but he is trying."

I divert my eyes from the man, feeling the pain creep over me.

"He is hurting my heart, brother."

"I know… And for that, I am sorry."

I am unaware of the passing time since Aro placed me in Marcus' care. The fever still ravages through my body for three days, and Aro remains far out of my reach. I drift in and out of consciousness, sometimes awakening to the presence of Marcus, and other times Caius or Dora. But still, no Aro. The pain of his absence sucks the life out of my soul, and the ache in my chest continues to grow with each passing day. He abandoned me.

And sure, I told him I didn't want him here - to leave me alone - but I didn't expect him to actually do it. He is not one to follow orders, especially the ones I dole out.

Even so, I am still furious with him. His actions at the masquerade the other night replay in my dreams over and over while I fight off the illness. The fever warps him even further in my mind, setting the stage for more sinister endings.

But at some point, my nightmares turn into sweet fantasies. I dream of the sweet fury on his face, the desire and passion threatening to explode from him. I dream of his raven hair and ruby red eyes and his lithe form shadowing over me as if to merge us together even in his absence. Even in my dreams, I can smell him. Patchouli. Spearmint. Sage.

He whispers sweet nothings to me, promising a better future. Apologizing for all the wrongs he committed against me, begging for my forgiveness. And even though I know this must be a dream, I melt into my phantom Aro and surrender to his touch.

~AB~

APOV

My study door slams open and Caius steps, his shoulders shaking in fury.

"Get up," he demands, arms crossing in front of his chest.

I turn my head away in petulance. I won't stand for such disrespect from my own brother.

"Get up, you arrogant ass." Caius is in front of me, having used his vampiric speed to cross the room in a blink. His fists slam down on my mahogany desk.

"Caius," I growl, narrowing my eyes at him in warning.

"Isabella is very sick, Aro. Marcus says if she does not break her fever tonight, she may need to be changed. Now, get your sorry ass up and out of this study before I pick you up by the collar and throw you out."

"Where is she?"

"The same place she's been since the night after the ball. Without you, might I add."

I curse, quickly standing to my feet before I sprint out the door, desperate to reach her. I did not know the severity of her illness. I didn't even check, so upset by our encounter the other night. So ashamed of myself and angry she sent me away. After that night, I decided that I must stay away from her until she sought me out again. I wanted to give her some time, but if she decided not to seek me out after her recovery, I planned to grovel at her feet for forgiveness.

Now, my resolve is nonexistent. I barrel through the halls to Marcus' study, reaching it in seconds. Outside the door, I can hear her ragged breathing.

"What is going on?"

Marcus sighs, exasperated by my volume. He brings a finger to his lips reminding me to be quiet.

"She needs to rest." Marcus removes his hands from my mate's forehead, replacing them with a cool compress. After he finishes situating the towel on her skin, Marcus steps toward me with a sneer. "You've truly messed things up this time," he berates, moving to his chair. He keeps his voice low, too low to wake Isabella. "The girl is losing the strength to fight the fever.."

I'm next to her now, my hands reaching for hers, small and fragile. The bond hums in satisfaction, our contact sufficient for now.

"How long has she been asleep?" I ask Marcus, not daring to take my eyes off of her.

"A few hours. Not long…"

"But?"

"She has not been sleeping well. The lack of restful sleep has not been kind to her."

I close my eyes, breathing in a shuddering breath. This is all my fault. All of it. Ever since she arrived, I have treated her no better than a prized possession, a treasured pet. Not as my mate.

I lied to her. Withheld the truth. Kept this bond from her even as I thrust my demands upon her. I have been so selfish. So absolutely selfish. And Isabella has been nothing but kind, caring even. While I have squandered any affection she may feel for me with my abhorrent actions.

As I gaze upon her porcelain face, I see it now; I see what I didn't before. She is everything. My shining sun in this cold dark world. The only thing worth living for. The only one worthy and deserving of any gentleness I have to offer.

"I keep hurting her, brother," I choke.

"You do."

I hang my head over her hand. "How am I supposed to fix this?"

Marcus sighs. "The truth doesn't hurt."

I shake my head. Of course not. That should have been my intention from the start. To tell her the truth. To help her adjust in this life. But instead, all I've done is manipulate and disappoint her. I've treated her with anger and jealousy.

"I suppose you're right," I whisper.

"It's not too late, Aro," Marcus assures me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You haven't lost her. Not yet."

Hours tick by without another word between the two of us. I count every beat of Isabella's heart, watching her for any changes. And when her fever breaks, Marcus and I both let out a sigh of relief, and I take her into my arms and bring her back to her room.

I've waited too long for her to lose her now. No, I must win her love and trust. I must show her our potential. I will show her that I can be gentle and kind. That I can love her without causing her harm. And once she surrenders all to me, I will possess her.