A/N: I loved these characters so much that I just can't quit this story. This is where I originally intended to end it, but I thought seeing some vampire Bella would be great plus, there are sooooo many unresolved things regarding Aro and Caius and their whole clan.

I'm doing EPOV outtakes so if you want to read one, please comment and let me know which chapter you'd like to see in his POV so far!

~Claimed~

Could her throat burst? Would her mouth spew blood and bits of organ until there was nothing left inside of her at all? Was this the feeling of Hell? Constant thirst with no reprieve?

Bella grasped at her throat, clawing at it like she was trying to tear off the skin. Hands found her, holding her down against the bed she was on, but she pushed them away quickly, letting out a cry that filled the whole room.

What the hell is happening? What's wrong with my throat? Why's it burning? Why does my whole body feel like it's engulfed in flame?

Then, the tears came. At least, she felt like tears should come. Her eyes blinked rapidly but shooed nothing away. There wasn't a single bit of wetness that needed to disappear. Perhaps she truly was all cried out. The tears she had shed in that basement had been enough to last an entire lifetime.

In so much pain, she couldn't spare the room she was in a single glance. Everything inside of her was burning. Every single bone felt as if it were on the verge of breaking.

Can an entire body shatter? Can it implode, bursting into pieces until I'm nothing more than matter?

Her eyes were burning without tears; her throat was scratching as if she hadn't had a sip of water her entire life; her stomach grumbled as if she could eat an entire animal whole.

Something grabbed her hand, holding it in a grip that seemed like it should've felt painful. However, with her body vibrating and her insides screaming, she felt strangely numb. It was as if she were stronger now. She had blacked out and woke up entirely different.

"Deep … deep breaths …" a strained voice uttered.

Even in her haze, she noticed that every word coming from his voice sounded painful. Whoever was talking was making a great effort to do so. There was a part of her brain that knew she should calm down, but she couldn't abide by it. Her body was working on its own, not listening to the more sensible parts of her consciousness.

"Calm … down … you're … hungry …" the voice said again, sounding more labored than before.

This was a voice she didn't recognize. It wasn't just due to the intense pain raging through her that she wasn't able to place it. The voice was deep and masculine and comforting despite its raspy sound. She felt her body moving toward the voice, feeling as if whomever it belonged to would keep her safe.

Before this moment, she had feared the vampires—even feared the death that was certain to come for her. Now, everything was different. In this moment, the only thing she feared was herself. Her body no longer felt as if it belonged to her. It wouldn't listen to her mind and did whatever it desired. The pain felt too surreal to belong to her too.

How could this possibly be me? This doesn't feel like me … these screams don't sound like mine … I can't even cry. I can't even manage to utter a single word.

Screams poured from her mouth, and if her vocal cords didn't feel the strain, she wouldn't have believed that they belonged to her. The man holding her hand let go of it now, and she grasped at air for a moment, missing the feel of him before two large hands pressed down on her shoulders, holding her down against the mattress.

These hands belonged to the same man, and as he leaned forward, she took a moment to smell him. The scent was grime, woods, and fresh air. He smelled uniquely masculine while also smelling as if he had just been through Hell and back.

Although pain and hunger still surged through her, she managed to turn her gaze to the man pressing down on her shoulders. Before her whole world went black, she had been surrounded by two men: Aro and Edward. It seemed like more men were coming, but she had already fallen unconscious before those men could reach her. As her eyes moved to glance upward at the man, visions of Aro flashed through her mind. She always hoped for the best but was prepared for the worst, and seeing Aro at a time like this would be the absolute worse.

"Aw, there, there, kitten. Don't be that way. Don't be afraid of me. I'm here to help you. Let me introduce you to a brand new life," she imagined Aro saying, although the sensible part of her mind knew the man above her wasn't him.

The voice she had heard from the man was definitely not Aro's voice. The man's voice was new, and Aro's voice was one that would easily haunt her dreams for many years to come, if not the rest of her life. His bright, whimsical tone hiding the true evil lurking beneath his surface was enough to permanently scar her.

When her eyes finally found the man leaning over her, she nearly gasped. At least, she would have gasped if she had any control over her own body. The handsome man who had fucked her so vigorously right before she had been captured was now looking down at her with a guarded expression.

He was just as handsome as he had been in her dreams. Every day that she had been locked away, she had thought of him. That wasn't all by design. Whenever she was particularly scared or depressed, he would flood her thoughts like a dark, wicked sort of guardian angel—there to protect her when she no longer wanted to protect herself.

Even now, he looked like her guiding light, ready to pull her out of the darkness that was beginning to cover her entire flesh. If she had returned to Hell, he was ready to rescue her from its eternal flames. She could see the determination in his eyes and could feel it in the way that he grasped her. Whatever pain she was in now wouldn't last forever—he would make sure of that.

"Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift."

She remembered the lines from Inferno as she watched the storm raging in his eyes. The way he was looking at her would've made her cry if she had the tears left to do so. It was anger mixed with a dose of helplessness that made her shudder.

Why is he looking at me like he's lost something? Has someone died? Did he lose someone close to him tonight during that game of hide and seek?

"What is it? What's wrong?" she wanted to say, but as her mouth opened, only screams expelled.

His right hand moved from her shoulder and reached out to smooth out her hair, pushing it back and away from her face. She knew he had an immense amount of strength, but when his hands touched her body, they were so gentle, treating her like delicate glass.

"It's okay," he said again in his strained voice.

What happened to him for his voice to sound like that?

Thinking of anyone harming him in any way made her want to sob. This was the man who had made her feel alive again during that night they spent together in bed. This was the man who saved her life before she became another corpse on the ground. How many times could she thank him? Would it ever be enough?

Since the words she wanted to say couldn't form in her mouth, she reached for her throat. As she grasped at it, her eyes pled, "Please, I'm so thirsty. I'm so hungry. I'll die here if I don't eat."

Never in her life had she felt so desperate for food. Every cell of her ached for nourishment as if she had been deprived for a lifetime. Somehow, he seemed to read her thoughts, understanding exactly what she needed without having to hear a word from her.

Like being on the same wavelength, communicating telepathically as if their souls had known each other's for years, they sympathized with each other. Even in her hunger, she didn't hate that he couldn't speak, and despite handling a woman who was now acting more like a rabid beast, he handled her with a familial-like care.

"Wait," he said before letting go of her long enough to grab a bag near him.

Instead of looking at what he was holding, she looked at him, watching his eyes as she listened to the sound of the bag being punctured. She saw a red liquid but quickly looked back to his handsome face for guidance as he put the punctured bag by her lips, offering it up for a drink. Trusting him, she leaned forward and put her mouth on the plastic.

While the liquid didn't look appealing, it tasted divine. It was cold as it flowed into her mouth, and as she drank, she couldn't help but think that the red liquid would taste better warmed. It's like a warm cup of sake to soothe my body after a long day. The thought would've made her smile if she could manage one. Instead, she kept drinking until the bag was empty.

When Edward took the bag away and reached down for another, she grasped at his arm, biting the air like an animal begging for meat. She chomped at nothing, almost turning on him as he tried to feed her. As he brought a fresh bag near her mouth, she missed the bag entirely and bit down on his arm instead, piercing the skin before feeling a flow of blood fill her mouth.

"Stop that!" he said sternly as he pulled his arm away, letting the blood fall from his wound in a way that made her core tingle and her belly ache.

Before she could bite him again, he pressed the bag against her lips and forced her to feed from it. This tasted similar to the blood flowing from his wound, and as she drank from it, she started to smell the iron. What did he do, rob a blood bank? she thought, filling with a sick humor now that she was feeding. Now that her eyes were really focusing, she looked at the hospital-grade blood bag marked O negative.

A million thoughts ran through her head but one prevailed, rising to the top above the others: nothing has ever tasted so good. I need more. I'll never have enough. She wanted to become bloated with it, drinking enough blood to make herself sick.

Can I make myself sick drinking this? It's sinfully good. Better than any liquor. Is blood something you can get drunk off of?

After five or so bags, the reality began to set in.

I'm drinking human blood. Why the fuck am I drinking human blood? Why am I okay with it? What's happened to me? What's wrong? I feel … I feel so different.

Never had she felt more alive than she did in this moment … and that was horrifying.

Could she continue on as herself—at least, the person she always thought she was—after doing something so gruesome? Another thought entered her mind then. Something that nearly made her stop cold. The blood pooled in her mouth for a moment as she stopped sucking and nursing on the bag like a nipple. It took a moment for her to remember to drink so she wouldn't choke.

Will I ever be able to shake my desire for blood? Now that I've had it once, will I ever want to stop? Already, it's so addictive. I have blood in my mouth, and I never want to stop drinking. Will I become rabid once it's gone? Will I turn on Edward, the man who saved me, as soon as he takes it away?

"That's enough," he commanded as she finished off the bag and began to reach out for another.

Her eyes gleamed under the ceiling lights, sparkling with new life as she lapped up the final few drops of blood. As soon as the bag was gone, her tongue darted out and skimmed her nether lip. Already, she was desperate for another taste. Since waking up, her humanity was gone. There wasn't a single thought present besides one: blood.

Blood and whatever she'd have to do to get it.

He covered her mouth with his hand, watching her carefully as her eyes moved quickly around the room. After a moment, she stilled, and her face twisted into a frightening expression—something too rapid to be human.

In that moment, reality washed over her, causing goosebumps to appear on her still naked flesh. This was her new reality. This feeling … whatever this feeling was … was her new world. Those monsters she had seen in the basement of that home weren't products of a sick, twisted nightmare. Nor were they from some sort of dark fairy tale with a disturbing ever after. They were real and now—she was one of them.

Bella Swan had blacked out after experiencing her last moments as a human being and had woken up as this—a monster no better than the ones she had been chasing since starting to research true crime. The blood lust shook her to her core. This was a truth she couldn't escape. The need for blood was just like a need for food, water, or sleep in her previous life. Her human life.

A cry escaped her mouth, and it still felt like a sound unlike anything she could've produced. After another cry, her teeth began to bite at the air as her body began to thrash. It was only then did she notice the restraints holding her in place.

There was a restraint across her shoulders, thighs, and ankles, holding her down to the mattress and giving her little wiggle room. It seemed that Edward had taken proper precautions to make sure she hadn't turned on him upon first waking up.

Does he think I'll harm him? Can I harm him? He's a vampire, isn't he? Can vampires harm each other like that?

To answer her question, the final images from her human life came rushing back. Before she had blacked out, Edward had attacked Aro, violently biting his throat. She remembered the blood followed by the crazed screams of a madman. Slowly, she was beginning to remember everything.

The dead bodies.

The sobs of desperation.

The game that was made to be lost.

Aro's mouth on her skin … along with the sting of his bite.

Bella shuddered, trying to forget it all. Thankfully, the blood lust took over any thoughts she had, making the memories feel null and void. Her mouth was moving on its own, chomping at the air—desperate for another sack of blood.

The hunger had subsided, but still, she yearned for the taste of blood on her tongue. Nothing could rival it. Blood was superior to all else.

Was it normal to feel like this? What's "normal" anyway? Fuck normal. I don't care about normal. I just want blood. Let me drink until my body is swollen with it. Just give it to me! Give it to me before I take it!

Her eyes locked with Edward's, and the rest of the world faded away for a moment. His gaze dominated, causing her to cower a little before chomping at the air again.

"Enough," he said before reaching out and putting a hand on her throat.

His fingers roamed over the scar from the bite, which was still puffy and fresh. He gently teased the wounded flesh before moving his fingers over her pale, unmarked skin. There was a tenderness about his touch that made her body weak. Even though she had already been bitten, he seemed desperate to find a way to turn back the clock.

When she looked at him, she believed she could see tears in his eyes. While his eyes glistened, no tears ever fell. Perhaps, like her, he was all cried out too. Over the course of his life, he had shed more than enough tears, so the universe felt it fit to grant him immunity. Or, at least, that's what Bella imagined. With so much pain, there must be some reprieve.

Without light, how could there be darkness? Without darkness, how could there ever be light?

So lost in thought—enthralled by the man looming over her—she had forgotten about the hands pressing into her neck. The pressure wasn't enough to harm her, but it was enough to scare her into remaining still. Edward was pensive, seeming almost scared of her as he held her down.

Is he scared of me or scared for me? she wondered as her thoughts were still consumed by blood. When would she get another taste of it? Would that taste come from another bag or perhaps something livelier? Would it taste better warm like she imagined or is lukewarm okay too?

Her mouth was moving again, chomping at the air in front of her as she searched for another fix.

"Enough," Edward reiterated, holding her down with an unreadable expression.

He was a man of few words—never giving her the explanations she wanted or needed to hear. How could someone like that help her? As strong and powerful as he had proven himself to be, he didn't seem compassionate when it came to new beginnings.

Or, perhaps, his compassion was a quiet one. His personality seemed like the sort of thing that was cold at first and only changed as an acquaintance became a friend … or something more romantic than that. Despite being drawn to him in ways she couldn't begin to explain, Bella didn't have a particularly good read on him. Everything about him felt mysterious and off-limits. Even now as he touched her so intimately and spoke so softly.

"What do you want from me?" Bella managed to ask after a while.

As time passed, her throat felt like a flame. Everything inside of her burned—desperate for more blood. Terror washed over her every so often as she feared this feeling might never end. Maybe this was Hell.

Hell, or a purgatory of unsatiable hunger that forced the body to just eat itself.

Edward looked at her with a furrowed brow and tight lips before he dropped his head and said, "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't something she was looking for. They were useless now, after all. Whatever life she had before this had ended. Somehow, she had ended up in Hell. She had left one nightmare just to enter another.

At least, this nightmare has someone like Edward. With his beauty and aura, any horror feels a bit more bearable.

"Sorry for what?" Her throat raged as she spoke, drying up with every word. If she didn't get blood again soon, she feared she would die of thirst. Desperate, she wanted to claw into her neck until blood pooled and wetted the walls of her throat and mouth. "What are you sorry for? What happened to me?"

After a long look, he said, "Bitten."

He uttered a single word as if it explained everything.

Bitten? What does it mean to be bitten?

"Am I dead?"

His eyes closed as a pained expression colored his too pale to be human face. "Not exactly." He seemed to decide on before opening his eyes to gaze back down at her.

The grip on her neck had loosened and to both of their surprises, she stayed still against the mattress. For a moment, she seemed more interested in answers than blood.

"Not exactly? How can I 'not exactly' be dead?"

Now, she was pressing against his hands and the restraints, wanting to get out of bed. If claustrophobia was something that could occur after death, she seemed to have it. The entire room seemed as if it were getting smaller, closing in on her as she laid there.

"No … not yet," Edward said roughly, pressing her back down.

"I want to see myself!"

Do I look dead? Just like the rest of you monsters. Would I fit right in with Aro and his army of undead monsters? Do I even look like me anymore?

"Let me up! Let me see!"

The look Edward gave her was enough to turn her stomach. His beautiful features were now colored in a deep shade of pity. His expression was that of a doctor telling a patient that they were dying and their life expectancy was no more than a few months. Seeing that look made her nauseous, and if she weren't starving, she wondered if she would've vomited up all the blood she had just ingested.

"Edward," she said sharply, wanting him to know that she wasn't playing around. Just because she was petite didn't mean she was one to mess with. "Let me look at myself. I just … I just want to know."

His expression was guarded—his eyes conflicted—but he reached for her restraints nonetheless. While he was the dominant one in their dynamic, being older and more skilled at everything related to the undead, he respected her position, too. Not granting her this would feel like saying that he didn't respect her as a person—and that couldn't be further from the truth.

She was quiet as he pulled away her restraints. Still in his grasp, he helped her off the mattress and ushered her toward a standing mirror in the room's right corner by the closet. As she walked, she realized this was a guest bedroom. It wasn't lavish by any means but was well decorated and even had a bookshelf filled with hardback editions of many of the classics. Seeing the books made her feel strangely at home and relieved some of the anxiety she had harbored since waking up.

When they got to the mirror, Bella didn't look at herself straight away. Instead, she stared at her toes and waited for Edward's guidance. Maybe the new her wasn't something she truly wanted to see. The truth always sounded like a good idea in theory, but in practice, it was only painful.

Ignorance could truly be bliss.

If I am dead, do I really want to know? Was Bruce Willis happy after he found out he was a ghost all along during the finale of The Sixth Sense? No, he was heartbroken about it. What good did the truth do in that instance? Did it really set him free? What will the truth do for me now? Should I check my teeth and see if I'm really a monster?

The thought almost made her laugh.

This has to be a dream. Some crazy nightmare that I just need to wake up from. This can't be real. Something this outlandish and out of this world cannot be real.

"Bella?"

At the sound of her name, her gaze shot toward Edward's direction, taking in his handsome profile for a moment before meeting his gaze. He gave her a pointed look as if he were silently inquiring whether or not everything was okay before looking at her reflection in the mirror. Seeing him do this made her unconsciously do the same. She followed his gaze, gasping as she saw a new version of herself in the mirror.

This woman couldn't be her. It felt totally illogical to her, but as she reached up and touched her cheek, watching as her reflection did the same, there was no denying it. This creature in the mirror was indeed her, albeit paler and prettier than she had ever been.

Her hair seemed longer now—although, perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her—with a more defined curl. It was shiny, too, as if she had run expensive oil through her hair with her fingers as soon as she stepped out of the shower. Despite not wearing any makeup at the moment, her skin was flawless. There wasn't a single blemish in sight. Only ivory skin with a light glow.

There was a pink tinge to her cheeks, seemingly a result of the blood she had just drank. Her lips were stained red, looking as if they were tinted with an expensive lip shade.

Bella touched her face again, watching her reflection as it mirrored every movement she made. This is really me, isn't it? This woman is truly me. Her eyes burned, and as she looked at her reflection, she felt that tears should be briming against her lower lash line. Instead, her eyes looked emotionless—almost like glass.

In a way, she resembled a porcelain doll. Soft, delicate, and too perfect to be real.

Her gaze shifted, and she found Edward staring at her reflection, too. Does he like what he sees? Is he disappointed that I'm like this? Whatever this even is …

"Say something," Bella said after a long moment, turning to him to peer up at his tense expression.

"Sorry," he said hoarsely, giving her a meaningful gaze that made her heart hurt.

There was something in his apology that made her ache. He wasn't just apologizing for what had happened to her—that much was clear. It was more than that. He was apologizing for her future, too.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she said, calmly at first. "I said, why are you looking at me like that?"

As she repeated her question, her voice became more hysterical. His lack of response put her on edge, and slowly, her heartrate began to pick up, growing erratic. She could hear it in her ears, pulsating like the vibrations were slamming against her brain. She put a hand on her chest, wanting to feel just how quickly her heart was beating, knowing that if it were beating too fast, she would pass out soon.

However, instead of the usual pitter patter against her palm, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was almost as if her heart was missing from her chest. As if Aro had carved it out before sewing her back up. Her brows drew together, her face twisting as she checked for a pulse on other locations of her body.

Quickly and with shaky fingers, she checked her radial pulse, feeling nothing again. Then she moved to the brachial and the temporal and back to the apical, finding the same result everywhere. Edward watched her with a pained expression as if he were remembering the moment he realized he was dead.

Feeling curious, Bella reached out and began to touch Edward, too, wanting to see if they shared this lack of pulse. She pressed two fingers against his heart and felt nothing. After checking a few more pulse points, she dropped her hand, shivering as if the room had grown colder.

"I'm … I'm dead, then? I'm really dead?"

Her question was quiet as if she were trying to suppress the hysterical tone that begged to come out. Despite wanting to hide the breakdown that was looming over her consciousness, her erratic breath gave her away. While trying to control herself, she looked at Edward and noticed that it barely looked like he was even breathing. When he stayed still like he was doing presently, he truly looked like a dead man walking. Albeit a handsome dead man walking.

Do I even need to breathe? Or is this just something I'm doing out of habit? Am I just breathing to calm myself down and make myself feel better? Now that I'm noticing it … Edward's breaths look more performative than anything else. Should I try to stop breathing and see what happens? See if I need to even do it at all?

With this thought in mind, she took a deep breath, wanting to just in case she did indeed need to breathe, and held onto it, wanting to see if her lungs would feel uncomfortably full or strained. It felt strange but not because it was uncomfortable to hold the breath for too long. Instead, it felt like she didn't need the air in her lungs at all. So, she let go of the breath and waited to see how long she could go without breathing in again.

Now, she wished she tried such a thing when she was alive to have something to compare all of this to. She imagined that she would need to breathe in again right away, needing the oxygen. Right now, however, she didn't feel like she needed anything at all. She let go of the breath and didn't feel the need to breathe in again.

The only thing that made her want to inhale was habit. Although breathing wasn't something she'd sit around and think about, it was so natural that it felt strange not to feel the rise and fall of her chest anymore.

"It helps … to do it … for show," Edward said, uttering more words than she had ever heard from him.

She wanted to ask why his voice sounded so strained and scratchy and why speaking was so difficult for him but didn't want to pry. If it was something she needed to know, he'd tell her. While they had quite the history, going through life and death together, she didn't know how close they actually were.

Were they at a point in their relationship where they could just ask questions like this?

Somehow, she doubted it. They seemed so intimate, yet not intimate at all. There was a line they were walking along, and she didn't want to be the one to cross it.

Right now, she needed his help. She couldn't bite the hand that fed her. Until she found out more about this whole undead business, she'd have to stick close to him. Which, if she were being honest with herself, didn't seem half-bad. Out of all the vampires she had come across, Edward was indeed the handsomest.

If I'm going to be shacked up with anyone, I should be happy it's a hot vampire with a huge cock. Shouldn't I? He can teach me about this … business … and sleep with me whenever possible.

Do vampires sleep? The house always seemed so freaking lively. There were footsteps at all hours of the day and night. If they slept, they must've done it in turns or something because there was always someone awake and moving around.

I could ask Edward. I mean, that's what he's here for, right? He's showing me the ropes or whatever. I'm sure he'll answer whatever questions I throw at him …

So, with that in mind, Bella quickly blurted out, "Is that bed for sleeping or …"

His intense gaze took her off guard, causing her sentence to trail off.

"Sleeping or?" He cocked his brow as his stern expression turned into a smirk.

If she could still blush, she would've been doing it right now. As she looked at him, she felt her nipples harden and her core become damp. Maybe I'm hungry for more things than just blood.

Then, for the first time in her life, she had the confidence—and hunger—to make the first move. His eyes widened as her lips found his neck, kissing where a pulse should have been. Her hands moved over his frame, worshiping every inch of his well-defined figure. When he was a mortal, he must've worked out constantly in order to have such perfect pecs and cut abdominals. Or had becoming a vampire perfected him?

The thought made her smile against his flesh. She inhaled the smell of him—cedar and wood mixed with a hint of vanilla and blood—and memorized it, tucking it away in her mind for the day she was no longer with him. The idea of him not being there, despite not knowing him for much longer than a mere acquaintance, made her stomach twist. How could she walk this world without him? Especially now.

As a newborn, she knew less than nothing. Her body guided her still, letting her know when to feed and when to fuck. Everything was so carnal—so basic—as if all of the human parts of her had died when her heart stopped beating. Reborn, she felt no different than an animal.

What separates a human from an animal anyway? The presence of a soul? Is that all that's keeping us from committing grave sins and heinous crimes? Is a soul our only moral compass? What gives us morals? What gives us ethics? Religion? Philosophy? Something intrinsic? Is our DNA coded with what's right and what's wrong, and through a few bad mutations, we end up committing horrible acts?

Now that she was alive without a heart, was she also alive without a soul? Was that why she was acting solely on basic instincts rather than listening to her mind?

Truly, as her body ached for the comfort that only another body could provide, she wondered if she had much of a mind anymore after all. The only thing that gave her solace was the fact that Edward seemed relatively normal. He functioned as a human, leading her to believe that this hunger and constant ache would be something she would grow out of.

Her worries began to dissipate as she continued to suck on his flesh, trying to leave a bruise to mark him as hers. No matter how much she sucked, his skin was a perfect ivory, never showing a single sign of stress. That didn't cause her to give up however, and she continued to suck on him in different places as he stood silently, letting her play his body like a fine-tuned instrument.

With her body pressed against his, she felt his cock grow hard against her belly. While he was quiet, he seemed just as desperate for contact as she did. Their bodies sang for each other, taking as much pleasure as they were leaving behind. As she paused to peer up at him, wanting to see whether or not his handsome face was contorted with desire, he captured her lips in a kiss, regaining the control he was obviously used to having.

His hands locked around her wrists as he held her close and steady, kissing her until she gasped and snaking his tongue inside her mouth when she did. Their tongues flirted for a bit as the sounds of their kisses filled the quiet room, wanting the energy around them almost overbearing in weight. More and more, she let her guard down until soon, his tongue was dominating hers, causing her to fight for the breaths she no longer needed.

This is different … not needing to breathe. I could kiss him for an eternity, couldn't I? The pleasant thought turned to something more heated. What else can I do better without breath? What will fucking be like now that I'll have no need to pause. With all of my human functions basically gone, we would last forever. It could be an all-day event. All day. Every day. For the rest of eternity. Or, at the very least, until he grows tired of me.

She didn't want to think of the latter. If he were to grow tired of her, she hoped it wouldn't be any time soon.

He seems like he wants to teach me … take me under his wing … he wouldn't cast me aside so soon. And … I could always keep him entertained, she thought wickedly as she deepened the kiss and tried to break free of his grasp. She wanted to pull his pants off and feel his pulsating cock against her palm. It would be proof of how much he desired her and the thought of its girth, length, and weight drove her wild.

Her core fluttered as she thought of being filled by him. Even though they were now equals in strength, both fueled by the blood of others, he was more capable. His hands twisted and forced her hands behind her back, causing her chest to jut out toward him. He broke the kiss and his gaze shifted downward, eyeing the breasts that now felt like a perky offering.

His eyes gleamed as her nipples puckered as if they were begging to be sucked on. He smirked at her, showing a bit of his dangerously sharp teeth, before letting go of one of her wrists and quickly catching it in his other hand. It made her quiver knowing that a single one of his hands could restrain her.

Thank heavens his hands aren't the only thing about him that's big.

With his free hand, he grabbed the middle of her shirt, grasping thefabricbetween her breasts before tearing it with a single tug. The shirt had covered her torso and upper thighs, and beneath it, she was naked and ready for him. Now that his gaze could roam freely, she felt herself become shy. Her nipples were so hard they hurt against the cool air of the room, and the apex of her thighs was wet, her flesh covered in the juices escaping her pussy.

Seeing this seemed to please him as he reached down with his free hand and smeared the wetness along her flesh with his fingertips. A dark laugh escaped him as her body quivered in response. Even if they were strangers, their bodies were familiar with each other—that much was clear.

Could we have known each other before? Perhaps in a past life? Maybe one life or many lives. It's probably impossible but … God, he feels so familiar. My body has felt these hands before. His spirit is too comforting to belong to a stranger.

Then he angled his hand and slid a finger inside of her, causing all of her thoughts to cease. The only thought present in her mind now was how good his fingers felt. One moved inside of her while the other played with her clit, flirting with it gently before applying a bit of pressure with his thumb. After a bit of teasing, he added another finger, and then another, stretching her out and preparing her for his impressive length.

No amount of preparation could make her body truly ready though. He was far bigger in girth than three of his fingers. Although they had only had sex once, she felt him for days afterward. That ache between her legs had been a comfort when she was captured, reminding her that somewhere out there she had a soulmate.

Is that what he is? A soulmate?

Soulmates were a rare thing to find in this world. Not everyone was lucky enough to find the other half to their soul. Some went their whole lives without ever meeting that person. Perhaps it was due to bad timing or horrible luck or passing away too soon. Before meeting him, Bella always assumed she was destined to walk the world alone. So, she never tried to date seriously. She was always too romantic for that, feeling that if she had someone she was meant to be with, she would find them organically.

Never had she thought that "finding them organically" would mean they would sneak into her bed one night.

"So wet …" Edward murmured with a clear smile in his voice.

Even the way his voice sounded was intoxicating, and she wished she could have heard it the first night they were together, too. Speaking seemed to be a huge strain on him, and she wondered if he was talkative today as a means of soothing her and calming her mind. If that were true, she was grateful. Being met with silence would have only put her more on edge than she already was.

His head dropped, and his mouth found her neck. He kissed her pulse point before running his tongue along the wound that was still fresh from the previous night of terror. She shivered at the contact but found that it didn't hurt. The wound only caused a dull sort of ache that would be expected from something like a bruise and not a gruesome bite.

Every kiss felt like an apology. This was his quiet way of apologizing for not reaching her faster. It seemed like he thought she resented him for it as his movements became more loving and gentler. However, she didn't harbor a single ounce of resentment toward him at all. Her hatred was entirely directed toward Aro and Caius, the two men who had terrorized her for days on end.

"Don't feel sorry," she said softly. "Between us, you never have to apologize."

His mouth paused over the wound, hovering there for a moment before he lifted his head to meet her gaze. It seemed like he accepted what she said but didn't truly believe her. Wanting to turn the mood back into what it had been moments before, which was lust and an aching need, Bella kissed him, pouring every ounce of desire into the kiss.

He responded right away, taking her lead before dominating her once again, kissing her harshly before pushing her back toward the mattress. She fell onto the mattress with a choked, surprised laugh, feeling even more turned on by the way her breasts bounced. While looking down on her and running his tongue along his nether lip, he began to unbutton his shirt. His movements were quick, and within seconds, the garment was on the ground, and he was reaching for his belt.

Watching him strip made her mouth water. She wanted to suck him dry. There was a strange desire in her belly to drain him and, right before reaching the final few drops of blood, let him drain her. Their blood could mix deliciously together until they felt like one being in two different bodies.

His cock was purplish and pulsing, angling toward his defined abdominals as if it were looking for something to sink into. Now, she was the one licking her lips, growing wetter at the sight of his thick member. He put a knee on the mattress, grabbing his cock and stroking himself as he crawled onto the bed, joining her. With his knee, he separated her legs, smiling as he laid down on top of her, letting his weight press her into the mattress.

Her eyes widened as she felt him press against her, lining his throbbing member up with her entrance. Even though they had been together like this before, she wasn't used to the impressive size of him. As big as he was, it frightened her. There would always be a bit of pain mixed in with their pleasure—she liked it that way. Being stretched by him was a feeling she wanted to savor. The way he forced her body to accommodate him was the most erotic thing she had ever felt. He was delighted by her pain, too, loving how small she felt around him.

With his lips pressed against hers, stealing a kiss, he pushed into her, sinking his cock entirely inside of her in one fluid thrust. A moan escaped her lips, pouring into his mouth as he began to thrust without mercy. He fucked her with such desperation that her core began to ache. She grasped the mattress, trying to tether herself to something before she lost control of herself. When that didn't feel like enough, she held onto his cold, hard flesh as he moved at an unforgiving pace.

Deep inside of her, his lips began to wander, moving along the flesh of her neck before nearing her bite wound. His tongue ran over the stressed skin near the bite, moving over the strained lines and puckered skin before reaching the wound itself.

Only a day old, the bite was still tender and puffy—the single imperfection on her stiff, ivory skin. He lapped at it, letting his tongue move over the wound like he was searching for the nourishment of her blood. It made her core clench as she imagined him draining her dry before filling her with his own blood.

As he worked on her neck, kissing and sucking on the bite wound, she dropped her head and mirrored his movements. Her tongue darted out and licked his perfect flesh, wishing to give him goosebumps while knowing it was probably impossible to do so. Wanting to play with him, she opened her mouth wide enough to latch onto his neck and let her teeth press into his skin.

This was the first time she noticed her fangs—the canine teeth that were sharp and extended. Her mouth pulsed with pressure as it felt like her gums were about to explode. The cry that escaped her lips was suppressed by the flesh of his neck. It felt like she had new teeth growing in, replacing the old, human pair that no longer served her.

Will my teeth always be this way? Are Edward's always like this … I've looked at his mouth so many times, but I've never noticed.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed as one of his hands moved around her body, grazing her back and letting his fingers drag along her spine before settling on the flesh of her bottom. He toyed with her there, playing with her soft flesh, letting the pressure from his fingers to cause little dimples before letting a finger drag between her plush cheeks.

While doing this, he never slowed his pace and continued to fuck her against the mattress, forcing her mind to become increasingly erratic. Despite not needing to breathe, she gasped as she felt his finger press against such an intimate spot of her body. Buried between her supple cheeks, his finger teased her asshole before pressing in, fingering her where no one ever had before.

The sensation shocked her, causing a shaky moan to escape her mouth as she tried to arch away from him, not sure whether or not she enjoyed the feeling. However, he didn't give her time to think and added another finger, stretching her hole out even more as he continued to thrust into her sobbing core.

"What …" she began to ask, perturbed. But as his fingers began to thrust inside of her, matching the pace of his cock in her other hole, she lost her train of thought and no longer felt the need to question his actions.

This felt good—heavenly, even. Maybe she truly was dead. No human had any business feeling worshiped like this. She smiled against his neck, licking his flesh again before pressing her teeth into him, moaning as the skin broke against her new fangs.

There was a rush of blood, and the smell of iron filled her nose. If he was bothered by this, he didn't show any signs. His cock and fingers kept moving at an unrelenting pace as she took what she wanted from him and let her mouth fill with his blood.

Was it normal to feed on another vampire? Would vampire blood sate her chronic hunger? She didn't know the answers and didn't care. All she could care about was the pleasure that this gave her. Now, it seemed like her entire life was ruled by pleasure. She was letting go of everything else—all the typical human-world stuff—as she became someone new.

Now she was someone who took everything she wanted. Someone who lived for pleasure and pleasure alone.

Could this really be me?

Perhaps this new world scared her. However, that fear was titillating.

Edward added a third finger into her hole as he continued to fuck her. When she felt too lost to function properly, unable to deal with so many sensations at once while her mouth still filled with blood, he slipped his fingers from her hole and pulled away, forcing her mouth to fall from his neck. With wild eyes and a dark smile, he flipped her over, forcing her head into the mattress as her back arched in the air.

She offered her wet pussy and backside to him and smiled as she felt his hands clench around her hips. He forced his cock back inside her as he leaned over, pressing his weight into her as his mouth teased her neck. If she were breathing, she would have stopped now out of shock. He licked where her pulse should have been, baring his teeth.

Feeling his cold, sharp teeth against the skin of her neck made her shiver. Fear mixed with excitement as he brought her closer to orgasm. Quickly, she could feel herself slipping over the edge. The pulsing of her core was beginning to build up, waiting to become wild and erratic. As his teeth broke her skin and she listened to the erotic pop from her flesh, she slipped over the edge and let her orgasm wash over her.

The feeling was crazed and desperate. Her core fluttered wildly against his length as she imagined her body growing flushed around him. He held her tightly, drinking from her while teasing her wound from last night, which was still fresh and aching. A moan escaped him, and he followed her lead, orgasming inside of her while his hips bucked into her.

Their moans filled the quiet room, mixing with the sounds of their flesh colliding together in ecstasy. He pulled away, removing his fangs from her neck before he gently let her fall to the bed, and then turned her over to face him.

He was dark and powerful, looming over her with an erotic expression. There was blood on his lips, dripping down to the bottom of his chin, and then onto his muscular chest. He wasn't a dainty eater—at least, not now when he was so passionate.

As she watched him with a lethargic expression, he brought his wrist up to his lips and bit into his own flesh. The blood began to flow from the wound, and he brought it to her lips, forcing her to feed again.

He didn't have to force very much—she was more than happy to fill herself with his blood. If someone had told her days ago that she would've been this keen about feeding from someone's blood, she would have been disgusted. Now, however, she couldn't imagine herself in a more blissful state.

"Enough," he muttered after a few moments, pulling his wrist away.

To her surprise, she bit at the air as she pulled away. Angry that he would stop her from feeding.

"Without my blood, you would die human," he explained in a hoarse voice.

Die human … Her eyes widened, and she asked a question, despite already knowing the answer.

"Then … what am I now?"

After meeting her gaze, he said simply, "A vampire."

A/N: Once again, let me know which chapter you'd like to see in Edward's POV in the comments!

And let me know what you think about this vampire Bella!

See you next update! xoxo