**Content Warning: This fic has elements of Non-Con and violence/gore. There is also a sex scene that starts off as non-con at first before becoming consensual between two characters. Since I'm not sure what you're used to reading … reader discretion is advised.

Summary:

She noticed the footprints first. Something which was disconcerting considering the fact that she was in a secluded cabin, far off from another soul …

Bella Swan is snowed in inside her cabin in the woods. While she wanted an escape from the real world as she worked on her latest true crime novel, this getaway quickly becomes more than she's bargained for.

A mysterious mute vampire, Edward Cullen, surprises her in her room, falling for her quickly as they become intimate. Despite his feelings, will he be able to protect her from his world?

Snowed In

~ Chased ~

She noticed the footprints first. Something that was disconcerting, considering the fact that she was in a secluded cabin, far off from another soul. There were stretches of miles and miles before there was another cabin, and with the temperature dropping to subzero temperature, no living thing dared move outside. The animals had long since hidden themselves away. Same for the people, who smartly stayed where they were as the winter storm raged outside.

Bella had been alone for little over a week, feeling comfortable in the silent solitude the cabin provided. Introverted, the vacation from reality had been nice. The cabin had more than enough books to keep her occupied, and already, she had filled an entire notebook with her thoughts. None of which were interesting—however, she couldn't get over the overwhelming desire to purge her mind. Sometimes, surprisingly, she wished she had someone to talk to. Even if she wanted to call someone—which was such a rarity for her that it would shock anyone—there was no cell reception. She was truly stranded.

Over the course of the past week, she had been able to stay sane with literature. She read some of her favorites, including a worn-down paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice, which made her forget about the freezing temperatures outside and the mountains of snow. For six nights and seven days, she had been fine, but on the eighth day, she woke up to footprints in the snow outside her back patio.

Who would lurk around in the cold? Were they looking for a cabin to break into? she wondered as she stared down at the footprints while sipping her first cup of coffee for the day. This isn't exactly the place to try to find somewhere to break into … It's not like there are tons of houses back-to-back to choose from. The cabins are miles apart. I've never even seen a neighbor.

The part of her mind that liked to stay positive tried to assure her that these footprints could've come from a neighbor, perhaps wondering around the woods and mistaking her cabin for their own. However, that seemed unlikely. While she hadn't seen her neighbors, she had seen the other cabins and knew they weren't similar enough to confuse. Unless one of her neighbors were drunk … wandering aimlessly at night in frigid temperatures. That seemed unlikely too.

The other options were ones she didn't want to consider. Being out in the middle of nowhere entirely by herself, she didn't want to think of someone coming with nefarious intent.

Last night, she hadn't heard anything from outside. Her small black cat, Salem, hadn't acted as if anything were wrong. He was always good about noticing things, especially noises, and Bella was sure if something was outside trying to get in, her cat would've picked up on it.

Although her mind wanted to slip into denial, the absolute nature of the footprints wouldn't let that happen. They forced her to face the truth—not caring whether or not she enjoyed it. The truth was someone was outside her cabin last night, lurking around in the snow, perhaps attempting to find a way inside. Although they hadn't broken in, she wondered where they were now. Were they just checking out the place first, planning on returning to finish the job another time?

That thought made her shiver. With the footprints in mind, nothing could distract her. Throughout the day, she went about her normal routine. Reading, writing, and cooking meals to enjoy by herself. During the daytime, the footprints outside didn't bother her too much, but as the sun began to fall, her heart began to race—body blooming with anxiety as she wondered what was in store for her tonight.

Wanting to ease her nerves, she went to the cabinet in her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of whiskey left behind by the previous owner of the cabin. While she wasn't much of a drinker, she wanted to drink tonight. She needed something to get her thoughts off the present. I'll just have one drink …

Three drinks later, she was feeling too good to be afraid. Her body was languid, and she stumbled away from the kitchen with a drink still in hand to go sit in front of the fire she had started earlier. Being the only source of warmth in the cabin, she leaned forward, putting the drink down before holding her hands up toward the flames.

Her body shivered as her hands heated up, and Salem stalked forward, rubbing against her before sitting near the fire as well.

"The storm should stop soon," she assured her cat before pausing and almost waiting for her pet to say something. "We'll be out of here in no time," she finished with, and then took another drink. "Are you bored, Salem?"

The cat looked up at her and meowed before resting his head on the floor. She reached out, running her fingers through its fur before their bodies jolted in reaction to hearing a sound outside. It was a light crash, like someone had accidently knocked something over. Salem was instantly on his feet, stalking toward the back door to peer through the glass, wanting to see the source of the sound.

Bella followed her cat, eager yet not eager to find the source of the sound too. Salem was meowing loudly, scratching at the glass, but as Bella approached, she saw that he wasn't reacting to anything in particular. A pot that had been filled with soil, left behind from the warmer months, was knocked over and shattered on the wood of the back patio. The only evidence of it being knocked over by something other than the quick wind were the footsteps in the snow again. Someone had been there … just moments ago … and now, they were already gone. Almost as if they had been spirited away by the night.

Could something … could something really be out there? Maybe I've been inside too long. Now my mind's just playing tricks on me.

Needing to prove something to herself despite the voice in her head that screamed for her to stay inside, Bella opened the patio door and stepped out into the night, holding her breath as she knelt down in the snow and reached for the footprints.

To her dismay, there were tracks in the snow—actual texture shoes left behind. The backs of her eyes pricked as tears began to form. She was on her feet in an instant, hurrying back inside where Salem waited with a guarded expression. As soon as she was back inside the cabin, she hurried to close and lock the patio door, staring outside for a moment before moving away from the door.

If there was something out there, could it see me? Is something out there in the woods, watching my every movement?

She blushed, realizing she probably seemed crazy paranoid. The embarrassment seemed ridiculous to her, though, as there was no one around to see her freak.

There's something out there. Something human … Is it teasing me? Trying to scare me a little bit every day before … before it does something else. Something far less palpable.

With a gulp, she moved to the kitchen, determined to make herself a cup of coffee to sober herself up. As the coffee brewed, she opened her blinds ever so slightly, peering outside in search of anything out of the ordinary. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she saw nothing.

If it's a person—I mean, it has to be a person, doesn't it?—is it just lurking outside? How can it stand the cold? Maybe that's why it wants to come inside so badly … to not totally freeze to death.

Her coffee finished brewing, and she poured it into her lucky cup, the one she drank out of when she landed her first book deal, and made her way to the living room area where her laptop was waiting for her. She should have expected the paranoia as she came out to work on her true crime novel, after all. With all of the disappearances happening in the area, it made sense to come here—the heart of all the problems near the city.

There were hundreds of theories going around as to what happens out in the woods. No one was decided, and there wasn't exactly expert commentary on these sorts of things, lending to tons of stories circulating in the nearby city. Every story was different. Some of the differences were small while others were vast. Some were down-to-earth and realistic while some were outlandish—almost like something written in a fantasy novel. Thankfully, Bella wasn't one for fantasy. The fiction she had written for years had never amounted to anything. It was the gritty nonfiction people wanted. Especially when that nonfiction centered around a murder case.

This case was particularly concerning. As she pulled up her laptop, looking through her open tabs of various news articles surrounding the case, she felt her stomach drop. It didn't matter how long she did this. The truth was always hard to stomach.

Similar to past cases she had researched, this one involved missing people. Jane and John Doe cases that involved people who were nearly impossible to identify. Their bodies were mutilated beyond the point of recognition. Outside of this though, even if the bodies weren't in the state they were in, all of the slain individuals were people who slipped through society's cracks. Individuals on the run. Teens and twenty-somethings trying to make their way across the country with no more than a backpack. Drug addicts. Drug dealers. Prostitutes. These were all people who lived dangerously—which, unfortunately, made them easy targets for crimes like this.

As her eyes moved over a news article, speaking about the latest victim of what the news had been calling the Night Butcher, there was a knock against the side of her cabin. Goosebumps covered her skin in an instant, traveling from the top of her spine to the base. Tomorrow morning, I'll go out and buy cameras for the cabin. I need some peace of mind.

Then, an alarming thought overwhelmed her: she couldn't go buy cameras. She couldn't go anywhere or do anything. The snow had made travel impossible. Unless she wanted to bundle up in all the clothes she had and walk toward the nearest store. That was at least ten miles away though. Regardless of the grit she felt she had, somethings were humanly impossible. This was one of them. I'm screwed then, aren't I? If anything happens, I'm totally screwed.

A tear fell from her eye, rolling down her right cheek as she turned to look out one of the nearby windows. With the lights off in the cabin and only a candle lit beside her and a fire nearby, she could see fairly clearly outside, and like before, she found nothing.

Do I want to see something? What good would that do? Then I'd know what was coming for me at the very least. Do I want to know what's coming? Or is it better to stay in the dark?

*************************************Snowed In***********************************************

A gust of wind pouring into the bedroom woke her up. Her eyes were open as a chill kissed her cheeks, but before she could sit up even a little, there was a weight pressing her down. Hands were on her hips, gripping her tightly, and as she opened her mouth to scream, no sound came out. It was as if the noise in her mouth had been consumed by the room. Truthfully, she had been too fearful to emit a sound. Whatever control she had over her body felt like it was oozing out of her pores, leaving her before she could stop it.

In the darkness of her room, she could make out a face. While she expected something gruesome and terrifying, this face was far from it. In fact, it was quite the opposite—angular and handsome. Almost like something from a god straight out of the mythology she had once studied during college. This was the sort of face people would paint. It would inspire sculptures and any artists' hands. Despite her horror, Bella found her hands itching to reach out and touch it, wondering if the pale, marble skin was as cold as it looked.

The monster, or whatever it was, watched her with bright copper eyes that glowed in the darkness. He was silent as his weight pressed her into the mattress. As she raised her hand, intent on touching him, he didn't stop her. Instead, he waited idly quiet as she touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"What are you?" she murmured, almost to herself, before asking, "Are you the person who's been watching me?"

Again, the monster … or the man … was silent. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment. For most people, this would be a sign of letting down one's guard. For him, however, it seemed like he was taking a moment to breathe and enjoy her. She knew—they both knew—that even if he closed his eyes, there wasn't anything she could do to save herself. If he wanted something, he'd take it. Regardless of whether or not she'd fight back.

"Who are you?" she tried again before she felt a cool pair of lips move along the curve of her neck.

His head dipped down as he kissed her pulse, sucking on it for a moment before moving toward her collarbone. Despite the fear in her heart, causing it to pulsate against bone, her body reacted to the feeling of his flesh on hers. Within seconds, her panties became wet as she felt her juices slowly seep out of her. His hands moved over her curves, pinching in places, worshipping in others, before one of his hands came down to cup her between her legs.

Then, her entire body stilled as her mind searched for a responsible reaction. She should push him away. She should fight him off … tell him that she didn't want it … but she couldn't. She couldn't even bring her hands up to hit him or push him away.

It wasn't that he was keeping her from such things—far from it, in fact. As he caressed her body and worshiped her skin with his mouth, he allowed her to do anything she wished. Although they were silent, somehow, they both knew that. Without discussing the rules, they knew how a game like this should be played.

If I pushed him away, would he even stop? Or would trying to fight him only make it worse? Should I lie here and take this? As his mouth nipped at her collarbone, he let go of her sex to snake his hand down the front of her pants, letting his fingers trail through her pubic hair before discovering her wet folds. Should I scream? Should I stop him? she questioned as she bit down on her bottom lip and savored the feeling of him slipping a finger inside of her. Do I even want to stop him?

It had been quite some time since someone had touched her like this. The last person she had been with, an ex-boyfriend named Mike Newton, who was as basic as white bread, liked to have sex in the dark and barely touched her down there … if he touched her anywhere at all. For Mike, sex was something to do and be done with. He had always treated it like it was on a list of daily tasks, and he was just waiting to be able to check it off. Despite not being into their sex life, Bella had caught him masturbating to porn on several occasions. Not that there was anything wrong with that—she, of course, masturbated to porn every once and a while too—but knowing how much they were struggling in the bedroom, seeing him getting off to that had hurt her.

Truthfully, she and her last partner had no sexual chemistry. She had more chemistry with the man on top of her now, despite never even hearing his voice or knowing his name. All she knew was he was handsome, and he felt good. If she were to die at his hand at the end of this, then maybe it wouldn't be the worse way to go. If she were being honest with herself, she had been looking for an exit for a long time. Suicidal felt like the wrong word … but nothing else really fit the way she felt. It just felt like a while ago, she couldn't mark exactly when, she had just given up on living. The world was a messy place, and the more she researched, the more she stayed up for endless nights dragging herself into the world of true crime and all of the grisly murders many wouldn't want to know about, let alone see, the more she wanted to leave it all behind. Maybe she was just jaded. Maybe it was her time to go. Whatever it was, she felt that, as this man fingered her, she was more alive than she had been in a long time.

Maybe even more alive than she had been her entire life.

As he slid another finger inside of her, so there were two slipping in and out, his mouth wandered upward until he was biting down on her earlobe. Never had she realized her ears were such a sensitive spot. As he bit her there, her toes curled, sending a shiver up her spine. Her back arched off the bed—or at least tried to as his weight was almost too much.

As she felt his body, she could feel the well-defined muscles. He was perfectly fit without being bulky. Heavy without being overbearing. And his scent … it intoxicated her. He smelled of sweat and pine trees, as if he had been living out in the woods like an animal. Maybe he had. Maybe he was the thing that had been lurking at her doorstep. If that were true … maybe he wasn't much of a monster after all.

Or maybe she was being too hopeful—too intoxicated in the powerful feeling of his fingers working inside of her body to be rational.

Maybe I don't want to be rational.

He added a third finger, and she cried out finally, screaming into the empty room. Outside her door, she heard the meows of her cat and his scratching against the wood. Salem was concerned for her. Little did the cat know that this was a scream of fear mixed with potent ecstasy—nothing to be too worried about.

At least, nothing to be too worried about yet.

Still, he wasn't saying anything, which put her on edge. Every time she tried to get something out of him, he would still be completely silent, biting and sucking as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. Can he not speak? Or is he just tormenting me to torment me? Does he know what his silence does to me? Fear bubbled up inside of her as she realized this person touching her could be anyone. Thousands of possibilities shot through her mind, becoming more and more worrisome one after the other. She thought of the faces of those slain. Those Jane and John Does floating around on the news, waiting for justice from their graves. This should be disconcerting. This should make her scream and fight, but yet … she found her pelvis thrusting up against the palm of his hand, urging his fingers to move faster and deeper.

With every stroke of his fingers, she found herself falling apart more and more. Nothing felt like enough. Soon, she was naked, mewling beneath his cold, muscular frame as he continued to tease her with his fingers. His thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing gentle circles there as he built up the friction. Her breath was hot against the cold flesh of his neck. If it tickled him, he didn't show it. While he was enjoying the way her body was reacting to him, he wasn't reacting to her in the way she felt a man normally should.

Maybe he's just done this so many times … That's how his control is so good. He's well practiced. Flawless in his execution. He's good … too good … and so cold. So very cold …

She pulled back just enough to get a glimpse of him. As handsome as he was, he was strangely pale. Shouldn't a man with his fingers deep inside of a woman be slightly flushed? At least, blushing a little? There wasn't a sign of blood beneath his skin. While he looked human, he seemed like something far different. His body felt too cold to be alive, and his actions … they were too cool and stoic to be real. Almost like a character written by an experienced author, who never fumbled through a line or moved around awkwardly—so perfect that the writing almost seemed bad.

"What are you?" she mumbled again, although it felt useless.

He hadn't spoken up to this point. Why would he talk now? As she expected, he said nothing—wordlessly taking off his shirt, revealing the contoured abs beneath the dark fabric. This man was beautiful. Like something out of a dream. A dream … or a nightmare … she couldn't decipher which one.

Without asking for permission, she reached out and ran her fingers over his muscles. Three of his fingers were still deep inside of her, playing with the wet walls of her core as she touched him. All of her lovers before had been too soft to have definition like this. This was her first time—outside of her fantasies, of course—that she was able to feel a man's muscles beneath her fingers. He was perfect, begging to be sculpted or painted, and for a moment, as she touched him, she wondered if he had been. Would she go to a museum one day and find a nude portrait in his likeness?

"You're perfect," she said, wondering if he'd say the same about her.

He leaned forward, and with his free hand, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down, revealing his naked cock. His erection was stiff, veiny, and slightly curved near the tip. As he freed his cock, it bobbed upward, almost hitting him in the stomach.

She smiled softly, almost in a daze, as if she couldn't determine whether or not this moment was real. While she knew she should feel terrified, fear wasn't present. The little bit of self-preservation she had only made the moment sweeter. It made her heart race and made her feel more exhilarated as she reached her peak.

Bella came on his fingers, letting herself crumble before him. He watched her face—his copper eyes bright and intense—and for the first time since he snuck into her room and forced himself on her, he showed some reaction. His brows drew together, trembling gently as if he was trying to hold himself back. His lips appeared wet suddenly, as if he had licked them in preparation of what he was going to do next.

As she withered beneath him, still coming down from her first orgasm of the evening, he bent down, pressing his weight into her and his lips against her neck. He sucked around her pulse, licking where the vein fluttered. She gasped, feeling his erection between her legs. Her mind was numb, but her body was wet and ready for him.

While meeting her gaze, making her head feel dizzy, he pressed into her, filling her up like she never had been filled in the past. Her back arched off the bed as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. He didn't give her time to get comfortable—no, he was too fierce for that. He was far too hungry for timid lovemaking. His hips moved violently, thrusting into her without mercy.

A scream passed through her lips, caused more by excitement than fear. He seemed to enjoy that—her screams only made his hips move faster. After a few more thrusts, he grabbed her legs, pulling back long enough to rest her legs against his shoulders, allowing him for a deeper angle. Now, another scream burst through her wet lips, and it was soon silenced with a kiss as he leaned forward, causing her lower back to come off the mattress.

"Mercy. Have mercy on me," she said with a moan. Although from her body's response, it seemed she wanted anything but mercy. If anything, her body was begging him to move harder and faster.

Responding to the cries of her body, he did just that, moving quicker and harder, nailing her against the bed. He hit that spot inside of her—too perfect to be described. Another orgasm was fast approaching. She could feel it with every thrust. Soon, she'd be in heaven again, before free falling back to Earth.

Will he come with me? I want to see his face as he falls to pieces …

Lost in thought and all the ideas of what he would look like if he lost control, she barely noticed as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the flesh of her neck. His tongue lapped against her pulse, making her quiver. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask what he was doing as his sucks became more and more harsh.

"Don't leave me covered in bruises," she murmured, although she didn't really seem to care.

It might be nice to be covered in bruises … knowing his mouth was the thing that gave them to me. Then, when he's gone, I'll have something to remember him by. That is … if he lets me live. He could be that monster circulating around the city, after all. Could someone like him … someone as beautiful as him … that feels as good as him …. be a monster?

Before she could voice that question, she felt a sharp pain in the side of her neck. Then, there was a slurping sound, and she became lightheaded. She orgasmed, coming on his cock as she saw stars behind her eyelids. Then everything turned black.

*******************************Snowed In***********************************************

Her flesh was now freezing. She shuddered at the chill before opening her eyes, expecting to see her bedroom ceiling but finding instead the night sky. Tonight, it was black as ink with a few stars scattered. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, one would get the most beautiful vision of the night sky. Tonight, however, mirroring her luck, the sky was bleak and not unlike something she would've found in the city.

For a moment, she wondered if she was in the city, but as she looked at the trees around her, almost acting as if they were trying to tuck her away inside the forest, she realized she was still near her cabin. At least, she was somewhere in the vicinity of her cabin.

After shuddering at the chill again, feeling the goosebumps rise and cover her skin, she peered down, finding herself completely naked. Instinctively, she covered herself up with her hands despite there being no one around to see her vulnerability. She took a moment, testing her legs as if she feared whether or not they would still work, before rising to her feet.

How did I get here? Why am I naked? Am I sleepwalking again? Before she made a mental note of phoning her doctor to schedule another appointment regarding her lack of sleep, a drilling feeling shot through her brain that almost sent her falling back on her ass. What the hell just happened?

Her pussy still throbbed, indicating that a man had definitely been there earlier in the evening. She peered around the woods, trying to make out another figure.

Where did he go? Did he just come in, fuck me, and run? I … I can't believe I let him do that …

Bella's eyes filled with tears as she noticed another throbbing. One in her neck that was far more vicious than the one between her legs. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over her neck, feeling dried blood around a wound. While she wasn't bleeding anymore, there were something that felt almost like bite marks near her artery.

What the hell is that?

The side of one of her nails dipped into the wound, tearing slightly at the irritated skin around the injury. She cried out softly, listening as the sound became absorbed by the night.

I have to get back to the cabin. Out here … out here, I'm just standing around like prey, waiting to be pounced on and eaten alive.

She turned and started walking back despite not knowing where that direction would lead. Nothing looked familiar. All she found were trees and darkness. How long could she walk in a direction before realizing it was the wrong one? Then, what would she do? Would she be even more lost?

Then, a thought hit her. Thankfully, before she took too many steps in a random direction, she looked down at the snow.

Footprints! There have to be footprints that will lead me back!

She looked down at the snow ahead, finding nothing but fresh, untouched snow. Then, she turned back around, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw a set of footprints leading toward the indentation where her body had been.

Thank God!

Quickly, she started to follow the footprints, moving back toward her cabin. As she walked, trying her best to ignore the chill that was making her nipples erect and limbs numb, she tried to piece together the past few hours. It was still nighttime, so it couldn't be that long since she blacked out. Perhaps a few hours at most. Unless … unless an entire day had passed.

No. It can't have been that long. My toes would surely be black by then. I'd have frostbite or something. No … it must've just been a few hours.

In the few minutes she had been walking, her toes already felt like they were going to fall off. So, she picked up the pace, hoping moving quicker and circulating her blood faster would keep her from freezing to death out in the woods.

She touched the bite mark again, unable to help it, as the memories from a few hours ago came rushing back.

A tongue against her neck … lapping as if it were searching for milk … teeth … then pain … so much pain … then ecstasy … then darkness … Then another face. A face unlike the handsome one she had been watching so intently as she orgasmed.

Cum was on her still, and the man who had been inside her … the man who had bitten her … was now lying beside her, nuzzling her neck like a wild animal that had calmed for a moment. The other man—a man with striking features, too cruel to be handsome—was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. The handsome man from before—the man who still had her cum on his cock—stood then and moved toward the cruel one, obviously recognizing him.

Then, the two men were fighting before the cruel one said something, and the handsome one backed down. The handsome one, the one who had given her so much ecstasy before, was now behaving like a trained dog, standing idly and watching his master—or whoever this cruel man was—come toward her.

As the man walked, he opened his mouth just enough to reveal two sharp teeth. Her eyes widened. What the hell is this? An Anne Rice novel? The thought would've made her laugh if she wasn't so terrified. The man moved to get on top of her, reaching for her breasts, as she gazed behind him, finding that the handsome one was coming toward them with a look of menace.

A crunch of a tree branch pulled her back to the present. Her feet stopped moving instantly as she perked up, trying to determine the direction of the sound. There was another sound—almost as if someone brushed against a tree—and she turned her head, seeing the flash of something. It almost looked like a human, but it moved too fast to be human.

Anxiety filled her stomach, threating to rise to her throat and choke her. I need to run … My feet need to move, I have to get back to the cabin. If I don't … If I don't, I'm sure I'll die out here.

Her feet were moving but not nearly as fast as whatever she just saw. As she ran, she saw the figure—the thing that seemed too uncanny to be human. It almost looked as if it were bouncing around from place to place, taunting her as she tried to run. Its actions screamed, Wherever you go, little girl, I'll be one step ahead of you. I'll find you. There's no escaping, no matter where you go or how fast.

A scream was bubbling behind her lips, threatening to pour out. The idea of being captured terrified her. Then, all of the images from her research filled her head. Faces of victims who were never identified. Bodies that were too mutilated to be useful for an investigation. The food she ate earlier was threatening to come back up, and tears fell as she continued to run forward, still praying to make it back.

Even if she made it back, it all felt useless. Whatever was chasing her seemed difficult to escape. If not impossible …

I can't think that way. I have to stay positive … even if things get worse. Even if I'm captured … tortured … or murdered. I can't lose hope. I have to keep fighting … no matter what.

Two hands found her neck, pulling her to a halt. As she gasped, choking on her breath and feeling her head throb and become dizzy, she tried to stay awake and alert. She tried to call out. Even opened her mouth with the intention of screaming. However, no sound came.

And, for the second time since nightfall, her entire world went black.

A/N: This story will be a four-parter! The second part, "Captured" will be posted soon and then "Cursed," and "Claimed."

The next story I'll be working on updating is "Under My Thumb" and my Disney fic so please keep an eye open for that! Also, I'm working on a Twilight / Batman crossover!

Hope you all are doing well! I have Covid again so I'm staying inside working on this fic! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!

P.S. The cat in this fic is based off of my real-life cat with the same name. I'll post pictures of Salem in my Facebook group, Likewhitesmoke fanfiction, if you want to check it out!

Stay warm and stay safe out there! xoxo