Edward held my hand as we ran. The feeling was exhilarating, and I was caught up in the euphoria of the moment. The rush of air passing over me, the way my vision stayed aligned with all the things we pass so nothing blurred as it had when Edward had run with me prior to my change. My feet flew over all types of terrain. The slippery snow and ice, the rougher bits of rock and dirt where the snow had melted on the hills.

I would have laughed if I hadn't been so nervous.

Running had been so effortless to Edward. He could pass around trees without pause, duck beneath branches without a single thought. It could have been just as effortless for me if I wasn't constantly taken aback by what I could now perceive. The scents of the forest and the world bombarded me. The visual things I had no ability to comprehend before kept dragging my concentration away, time and time again. The way the leafless branches of a tree had bark laid in patterns so fascinating they could be studied for hours. The way the weak, winter sunlight hit the snow, created prisms of light that resembled Edward's skin.

And my skin.

It was a world I had wanted to see ever since I learned of Edward, and now it was before my eyes and more spectacular than I ever could have dreamed. How could I focus on flying when every detail around me was an exquisite work of art?

A gentle tug on my arm forced me to stop right before I ran face-first into a tree. It wouldn't be the first time. There was plenty of destruction all over these barren, winter woods with my name on it. I worried about single-handedly destroying a National Park, but Edward assured me it would all be just fine.

"Sorry," I breathed, the sound of my new voice light and lovely.

Edward smiled gently, patient as always. He always accompanied me when I ventured out of the chateau to keep my destruction to a minimum. That afternoon, we weren't out to gallivant through the woods, we were on a hunt. His hand touched my throat, concern touching his features as I swallowed with a wince.

"Can you smell that?"

I dragged the air tentatively in through my nose, trying to sort through the different smells. Earth, damp and icy. The rot of leaves and plant matter beneath the snow. The rush of cold carried dozens of smells I wasn't entirely sure I knew. Finally, something warm and lush with a hint of bitter musk made itself known.

"That?" I whispered, questionably searching around. My throat burned and my mouth filled with something sweet.

Venom.

"Does it make you thirsty?"

"I'm already thirsty."

He ignored my sharp tone. "Close your eyes, my love. Trust your nose, your ears."

I did as he asked, and I heard it. The wet, meaty sound of hearts beating. More than one. It took a minute, but I discerned where it came from and turned instinctively in that direction.

"That's it," Edward encouraged. The hand that held mine squeezed briefly, then let go. "Trust your instincts now. Follow them."

Without opening my eyes, I followed the sounds and the smells. My feet were cautious, though I know they didn't need to be. Nothing could hear my approach. Nothing except other vampires. I turned back to Edward, searching for reassurance.

"I'm right here. I won't let you do anything you wouldn't want to."

I wasn't sure I wanted to do any of this.

But I did know I was thirsty. Painfully so. And I also knew there was only one way to fix that.

I shut my eyes again and took off. In a matter of seconds, I found them. Four creatures. I didn't open my eyes to see what kind. The fire in my throat was so painful now that I could hear the rush of blood racing through their veins. Just before my body lunged and the creatures, a grunt sounded in front of me, answered by a soft bleat.

I came to a screeching halt.

Edward approached from my right, practically silent.

"I can't," I whispered. If I could cry, I would. I was so thirsty, but I couldn't rip apart a live creature.

Since awakening, I had embraced so many facets of this new life. The super strength that caused me to break everything I've touched. The sights and sounds overwhelmed me. Yet, I could not lose myself to the instincts Edward had been working for me to trust for weeks.

"Focus, love."

I concentrated back on the creatures and my thirst roared a new.

I was still helpless to do anything.

I opened my eyes and turned to Edward. The sudden movement startled the creatures. They were deer, it turned out. They broke and bolted. We watched them vanish in a flurry of up-kicked snow and swaying, bending brush.

I could have easily caught them, but I didn't bother to try.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"I don't understand what's wrong with me." I kicked the snow like a petulant child.

"Nothing is wrong with you," Edward corrected, immediately. Some would argue reflexively. "It's difficult, sweetheart. We all needed time to adjust. You're no different than anyone else." He could have ended there, but we both sensed there was something else about my transformation, whether or not we spoke about it out loud. "Carlisle suspects that your prior knowledge of vampirism may have affected your transition. You cannot lose yourself in the nature of the monster because you anticipated what's happening to you. Usually, the monster overpowers anything human, making hunting and running come naturally. So much so, that we need to find the person and drag them out from the vampire. It seems with you, we're going to have to drag the vampire out of the person."

Great. I always assumed that my vampire preparedness training would make the switch easier. Apparently, my brain is too wired-up to let itself fall into the instincts of someone who had been turned by surprise. There was too much in me that was still human. Jacob would be relieved to hear that, but I was going to live a long, torturous un-life.

"Of course, there are no studies on the subject, so there's no sure way to know what's going on. It could all be a mere coincidence. Nonetheless, we should make sure you're fed." He tensed, ready to spring into action, but I grabbed his wrist.

"Please, don't. You can't keep gathering blood to feed me like a mother bird."

"I absolutely can if it makes things easier for you."

"I need to learn how to do it myself." The words were confident, but I pressed my face against Edward's chest.

He pressed his hand into my back. "One more time," Edward said like he had the last three times.

"One more time," I agreed reluctantly.

He disappeared. Unlike my days as a human, I could tell exactly where he went off to. I followed his trail as long as I was able. When he was fully out of my hearing range, I turned back for the chateau.

I trudged through the snow the whole way home, not in the mood to move faster than my old human pace. I continued past the chateau—now teeming with Cullens—and into the greenhouse around back. According to the family, the boys had built this structure a while back as a present for Esme. She brought the entire thing back to life in a matter of days. Rose bushes for Rosalie were lined down the middle. For Alice, tables with orchids were placed sporadically throughout the space, depending on how much light they needed and where the sun was. There were plants climbing up the walls and plants hung from the ceiling in terracotta pots. It was less of a greenhouse and more of a botanical museum.

Wedged back in the corner, after Edward had whispered in Esme's ear, was a small water feature dribbling its gentle tune. The stone structure was surrounded by pots and planters of various wildflowers in the purest white, buttery yellow, and royal purple. I sat on the ground and scooted back to wedge myself between the planter and a bench covered with pots.

It was the closest thing to the meadow up here in Alaska.

Edward found me almost immediately after I sat down. Between his skill and my slow trek home, I shouldn't have been surprised to see him so soon. He held two thermoses in his hands, both of which I had never seen before. Presumably, because I broke every one I touched. I repositioned myself so Edward could join me in our quiet corner. He pulled me into his arms and balanced me on one of his thighs.

He offered up a thermos, removing the lid for me so I wouldn't break another. I thought the coddling would stop when I became a vampire, but it remained, stronger than before. At least as a human, I could cook for myself and run my own errands. Now, I fully relied on Edward to do everything for me.

It wasn't a great feeling.

I didn't hold it against him, even though I did rue him and the fact that he got to keep his unlucky, danger-prone klutz of a girlfriend for longer than either of us anticipated.

He let me curl against his chest, instead of insisting that I feed. I ran a hand up his peck, around his shoulder, and down his arm. He was warmer to me, now. Not hot, not cold, just a perfect complement to my own temperature. His skin still felt hard, but no longer frozen. Instead, he felt like rich, burnished wood. Smooth, polished. If I pressed hard enough, I could feel a certain give. A new texture. I liked it.

As much as my thirst pained me, I would endure it for days longer if I could lie down right there in the greenhouse with Edward and continue to explore the new version of him before me. I draped my hand on the back of his neck and pulled his lips to meet mine because I could now. Gone were the days when Edward had full control over our physical relationship. Even when he let me take the lead, I was only able to do what I wanted because he allowed it. The shoe was on the other foot with my newborn strength. I could hold him captive and kiss him to my heart's content.

And that was exactly what I did these days.

I knew Edward would be the best part of my transformation. He felt it, too. He no longer needed to hold anything back, and I noticed the difference. I never understood how much he needed to focus on to keep me alive. But as someone unable to hold a thermos without crushing it in my bare hands, I was awed by his control.

But I was more in awe of how much better our kisses were. He deepened the kiss right away, no longer needing to adjust to the fire that burned in his throat when our lips used to meet. His tongue slipped into my mouth and his hands moved down and around my bottom. He squeezed. Truly squeezed until I yelped out and giggled, unafraid of what his hands could do to me.

"Marry me," he whispered, his lips moving with mine as he spoke.

I broke the kiss in a quick, vampire movement. My head slammed against one of the pots sitting on the bench behind me. My hand reflexively went to the place on my skull where I made contact, but of course, I felt no pain. The broken terracotta pot, however, was a different story.

"I'm not going to let you marry me like this," I said, brushing dirt out of my hair.

A monster. A mess. A mistake.

Edward helped with the dirt removal, then let his hand linger and ran his fingers through the length of my hair. "Whatever the timing, I'd still be marrying you. That's all I want. In any form, in any way."

"Can we please wait until I'm a fully functional person?"

Edward's jaw twitched, thinking the same thing I was. It could take years for me to get used to my new body. Everyone warned me. Esme promised with a whisper behind Edward's back that I would want him psychically just the same as when I was human, if not more. But she also warned there would be an adjustment period. I would feel like my mind had been put into a robot. It was the same mind, but now working with a computer to maintain control of my enhanced, powerful body. I remembered she and Jasper had gone down a Sci-fi rabbit hole in the Cullen library that week.

"Yes," he said, and even without my enhanced super hearing, I would hear the mournfulness. "We will wait." Edward had made too many mistakes in the past forcing his decisions on to me, and I doubted he would ever attempt to do it again.

Now that I had thoroughly killed the mood, I lifted one of the thermoses from where they were on the ground next to Edward. I gulped the blood like it was hot chocolate. The one thing that felt right in this cruel, unjust world of vampirism was how satisfying and invigorating drinking blood was. I feared I would be horrified by the substance, just like I felt with hunting, but drinking it was the only thing that came naturally to me.

"Maybe you should try to hunt with someone else. Emmett always makes a game out of it. That might be the change of pace you need," he mused as he opened the second thermos for me.

Of course, Edward would see my failing as his own flaw.

"Or Alice. She makes hunting a competition. That could encourage you."

"Sure," I said, willing to try whatever. I made the mistake of closing the lid when I was done drinking. My thumb pressed into the closing tab straight through the plastic lid, snapping it in half, and continued into the thermos steel.

The smart man that he was, Edward didn't comment. He merely took it from my hand, with an unworking lid and a thumb-sized dent, along with the other, still functional thermos, and brought them both with him as he left the greenhouse, presumably to wash them.

I lingered behind, giving him a chance to sulk about our non-engagement if he wanted to. Then, I returned to the house.

The return of the Cullens was both a good thing and a bad thing. A good thing, because their departure from Forks meant that Charlie could survive on his own and the grief of his daughter hadn't destroyed him. I had promises from both Esme and Alice that he had returned to work, never stopped eating or sleeping, and could still smile. In fact, Alice told me with a wink that Charlie and Billy had already started to eat dinner together every night. Apparently, both Charlie and Billy had too many casseroles from neighbors for one man to eat, so they compiled their stockpiles and make nightly buffets.

It was good news to hear.

A bad thing, because I was now under everyone's watch. It was bad enough to have Edward's constant supervision—whether it was warranted or not. Then, there was Jasper. He never said anything out loud, but that didn't mean he kept his thoughts to himself. I would see him, watching me from a distance. Occasionally, I would see the slightest head nod from Edward, no doubt answering whatever Jasper had told him. And that was only when Jasper was in the room. I was sure Edward had a constant stream of instruction in his head from not only Jasper but the rest of the family.

Alice's eyes were often far-off, constantly searching the future. I could hold a conversation with her for approximately three minutes before a vision popped into her mind for which she needed to excuse herself. Most likely to talk about it with Edward and Jasper—my new handlers.

Esme and Carlisle acted exactly how I imagined parents to act. Esme was the same, but different. We could still chat, and I would assist her with gardening and maintaining the house. When we weren't actively engaged in conversation, her behavior reminded me of the many times I had a broken bone as a child. Renee would never coddle; she would hover. Like Renee used to, Esme lingers in doorways or the edges of a room, prepared to spring into action if I needed her.

Carlisle turned every conversation into a lecture. I would walk into his office looking for a book on Alaskan wildlife and walk out with my ear talked off by the importance of maintaining the natural balance in an ecosystem when introducing a new predator.

My new family had me feeling like a ticking bomb or a circus act depending on the day.

There was one person in the family that didn't make me feel like a caged lion, and I searched the house to find him. He was usually in one of three places: the pool, the attic that he had converted into a cozy game room, or his bedroom. When I got up the stairs to the attic, I found Emmett teaching Rosalie how to play a video game. She sat in his lap. He had his arms around her, and his hands placed over hers on the controller, like a ghost teaching her how to make pottery.

I lingered at the top of the staircase, debating whether hanging out with Emmett was worth also spending time with Rosalie. I started to backtrack and give them their privacy, but Emmett called me in with a whistle.

I froze. Rosalie's gaze flickered over to me. Then, immediately returned to the screen.

Technically, Rosalie didn't treat me differently, either. But that was only because she regarded me with the same level of apathy as she did when I was human. She was never outright cruel, but I could still feel the disdain for my existence.

I asked Edward about it dozens of times when we were far off in the woods, too far for Rosalie to hear. Each time, he would merely shrug. I knew he knew Rosalie's exact thoughts on me, but he had ridiculously high morals for a vampire and refused to share thoughts of others that had never been expressed out loud.

Without Edward, I knew she didn't like me. Deep down, I understood. If some human interrupted my quiet, immortal life with countless life-or-death scenarios and placed my partner in harm's way, I wouldn't like them very much, either. But in the shallow puddles of my heart that didn't care about logic, I wanted my new sister and my friend's wife to like me, goddamn it.

There was a possibility for friendship with her—I'd seen it. It was there when she told me her tragic tale that led to her immortal life. It was there when she insisted on coming to Alaska before schedule when I had taken four days to turn than three and Edward was nearly inconsolable.

Despite his wife's possible protest, Emmett called me into the room again. "Get in here, girl! Let's have ourselves a no-power pow-wow!" He laughed, tickled by the play on words.

"Don't rub it in," I muttered, still irritated over that fact. Every single Cullen had been convinced that my silent mind would have given me a supernatural ability like Edward's or Alice's, but I woke up with nothing. I slumped down onto the beanbag chair on the floor. Emmett paused the game and Rosalie's tiny character on the screen stepped mid-jump, about to land on an enemy.

"No, for real. Having no powers is where it's at."

"I know, I know. It's better not to be on Aro's radar," I repeated Edward's words from earlier in a poor imitation of his voice.

"No, not for any of that crap" Emmett waved that off. This voice dropped down to the quietest I'd ever heard, "If you had a power, those nerds downstairs would find some way to put you to work."

I never thought of that.

"I mean, where are they right now? Jasper is out with the Denali coven, seeking out whether they're emotionally ready to meet you. When they do come, he'll be on point to keep everyone calm. Alice is with him, constantly looking for signs of danger. Edward's skulking around every spare second, making sure there are no humans in his range. And what are we doing?" He jutted his thumb towards the TV, "Fighting a giant turtle dragon monster to save a princess."

Rosalie nodded solemnly, "It's much more relaxing on this side of the family."

"No one expects us to do anything!"

"Emmett, honey," Esme's voice called from somewhere in the house. "Can you please clear the driveway?"

Emmett winked at me. "Sure thing, Mama Bear. Give me a bit to figure out how to use the snow blower."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she called back. "I'll have Edward do it."

I laughed. Emmett's point was thoroughly justified.

"And that's not everything!" Emmett leaned in, "because you don't have a power, you get to join me and Rosalie."

"In what?"

The two exchanged a look, engaged in a silent conversation. Emmett quirked an eyebrow and Rosalie's red lips twitched up into a small smile.

"Our crusade!" they said in tandem.

That was the last thing I expected to hear. "What?"

From his own enormous beanbag, Emmett twisted and flipped on the sound system behind him. He flipped through a few songs before settling on the fifth. Synthetic techno beats pounded from the speakers, and I knew right away the CD did not come from Edward's vast collection—he hated that type of music.

Rosalie bit her lip and reigned her expression back into something neutral. Stilled balanced on Emmett's leg, she leaned forward. "It's time to let you in on a little secret. Edward and Alice aren't as omniscient as they think they are."

"What do you mean?"

Emmett was too busy holding back his giggles, so Rosalie spoke for the two again. "There are tricks to get around them both." She held both hands up in the air and twirled her wrists. "For Edward, all you need to do is put on music he hates, and he'll instinctively push your thoughts back, so he doesn't have to hear it.

I felt my jaw fall slack. Rosalie and Emmett knew a way around their gifts.

"Jasper's the easiest," Emmett continued. "Think about fuckin'. He'll stay far away from any lustful feelings. The guy's too awkward to ever bring it up."

"That works with Edward, too," Rosalie interjected.

"Wow," I whispered, amazed by the couple. "You even found a way around Alice?"

They both nodded.

"You make small, deliberate decisions with every movement," Rosalie explained. "Lift hand. Move box. Lift hand again. Curl fingers. There's something about the bursts of consecutive decisions that causes her to malfunction. Like her power can't handle all the new information, so it tells her nothing."

"And they don't know this?"

I would think both Edward and Alice would harp on their weaknesses until no end. Edward certainly complained about my silent mind enough. And Alice freaked out if werewolves got too close and messed with her gift.

"If they knew, they would be able to stop us."

"Stop you from doing what?"

"Messing with them from time to time."

"Let me get this straight: you allow Alice and Edward to believe that their powers are infallible so you can pull petty pranks on them?"

Rosalie smiled the largest I'd ever seen. "I sometimes turn Edward's socks inside out after laundry day. Drives him crazy."

Emmett laughed and tightened his hold on Rosalie. "You sure do, Baby. And it's funny every time."

"No, but last year, Edward caught you trying to replace his shampoo with honey. He knows about your workaround."

Rosalie shook her head. "We have to get caught every once in a while, so they remain complacent. Edward caught the shampoo trick, but he didn't realize I rewired the lights in his car so the check engine light was always on."

I gasped, "That was you?" During our first summer of dating, I experienced Edward's first petty meltdown when he could not figure out what was wrong with his car. He must have replaced every, single part before it eventually shut off randomly one afternoon.

Rosalie beamed proudly, "That was me."

"What about Alice?" I asked, out of morbid curiosity. As deeply as I loved Edward and Alice, it was fun to know their haughty self-righteousness was under false pretenses.

Again, Emmett elbowed Rosalie. She must have been the mastermind, which wasn't very surprising. "Once, she spoiled the score of the Superbowl to Emmett, so for her birthday, I bought her all-new clothes, but replaced the tags. She wore knock-off jeans for a year thinking they were designer."

I shook my head in awe. "You're terrible."

Rosalie shrugged, unaffected. "Look. They walk over us all the time with their gifts. Having these little outlets to get back at them helps to keep the peace."

"They should be thanking us for pranking them, really," Emmett agreed.

I grinned, happy to be in on a secret with my new brother and sister. Edward and Alice kept me out of so many things in my human days, it felt nice to be included in something they weren't.

"You'll be the perfect ally to messing with Edward."

Emmett nodded, slow and confident, "Because she can distract him with booty."

"Because he already can't read her mind," Rose frowned.

Emmett held up two fingers, "Two stones, Baby."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, not bothering to mention how that phrase didn't work in this context.

"So, can we prank them here? At the chateau?"

So far, my vampire experience had been filled with gentle noes and disappointing setbacks. So, it felt great when Emmett and Rosalie shared another smile and said, "Absolutely."

I grinned. I may not be able to go in public, or venture out on my own, or even feed myself, but I could pull a practical joke on my eternal soulmate.

I promised you some Cullen Family Fun and I intend to give you just that! Also, turns out vampirism isn't a quick fix for self-esteem issues. Who knew?