Chapter Four.
AN: Just in case I've inadvertently made this difficult to follow, a fact I apologise for if that is indeed the case. The events of this chapter take place after those of the previous one, which I'm certain you'll suss out as you read it, but just before those of chapter two. I know you guys are eager to see Ashley and Alexia together, after waiting so long for this update you deserve it and believe me I'm dying to start writing the leading ladies' story but Bella and Rosalie's own plot line, and the sub-plots within it, is going to be essential to the overall story.
Denali National Park, Alaska.
Two hours ago.
The wind was shrieking through the open window of Bella's iridescent pearl white Land Rover, bitter and cold, the blustering Winter wind carried falling snow and hail into the luxurious cream-coloured leather interior of her SUV.
Blinking, she banished the snowflakes latching onto her long, thick eyelashes and wrapped her slender fingers around the glossy silver and black gearshift jutting up from the centre console. Briefly lifting her black-leather Armani boot from the accelerator, she confidently pressed down on the clutch pedal and smoothly guided the gearshift into sixth. Languidly returning her foot to the accelerator, she watched with bruised purple eyes as the speedometer swiftly reared up to 180MPH. She registered the acceleration by the sudden sensation of being pinned back against the soft driver's seat, as the car veritably flew along the dirt road, coated densely in black ice, with increasingly dangerous velocity.
190MPH.
200MPH.
The powerful V4 engine, diligently maintained by Rosalie's own resplendent hand, roared beneath the hood, as loud as any maddened grizzly bear. The rapidly rotating studded wheels spit out a copious deluge of snow as she expertly manoeuvred her speeding Land Rover along treacherous terrain, racing toward Denali Mansion. Her home. Where her beloved mate awaited her. She removed her hand from the gearshift, placing her palm back on the steering wheel. The brown leather encasing the circular instrument creaked loudly in pained protest as her long alabaster fingers tightly constricted around the wheel. An impatient growl reverberated low and deep in her ample chest, audible even over the thunderous rumbling of the engine, as the Land Rover jostled violently from side to side, responding to the rough, frozen earth beneath the vehicle. A wide spread army of cedar and spruce trees punctured through the heavy blanket of snow, ice and frostbitten foliage dotted across the forest floor for as far as even the supernatural eye could see. Most of the towering tree trunks she masterfully wove the Land Rover in-between and around were half as wide as her car and proudly speared upward toward the overcast sky, churning with turbulent, gunmetal grey clouds.
Icy particles frenziedly lashed Bella's Land Rover on both sides, bursting in through the fully open windows. Though the dark-haired Fae knew a human would have felt the frosty hail perforating their vulnerable flesh and clothing like a thousand pointed stings from a hornet, she hardly felt the glacial sleet biting away in vain at her diamond hard skin through the thin layer of her black silk, Armani shirt with it's long-sleeves rolled up to her elbows, it's high collar and plunging V-neckline displaying a moderate amount of enticing cleavage. The howling wind persisted to whip falling snow into the front of her car, where the white flakes dusted over her black Armani slacks, bisected by narrow silver pinstripes. The snowfall glittered, bright and crystalline, upon her muscular silk-clad thighs. Her body's core temperature ran far too cold, colder than even that of a vampire, to melt the sleet and snow and she never bothered to switch on the car's heater or headlights while driving. Her preternatural reflexes and invulnerability to extreme temperatures made those mechanical features redundant.
Bella's nostrils flared as duel scents abruptly gusted into the Land Rover on the wind, snagging her attention away from skilfully swerving her speeding car around tall trees, naked shrubbery and protruding boulders, vampire, both of them female, each one complementing the other in a tell-tale manner. A mated pair. She drew the scents deep into her lungs, analysing them, taking stock of the bolder scent, clean and wild, and the second, appealingly exotic and punctuated with a tasteful dabbing of expensive perfume, probably costing hundreds of dollars if not more. Recognition sparked instantly, like a lit match put to oil, it was Irina and Heidi. The couple were most likely on patrol, ensuring that no wayward human hikers happened upon their home while also policing the borders of their expansive territory. The Denali Coven took several defensive measures to protect the location of their home from humankind, nowadays there were never less than four members of their Coven on patrol at any given time. She exhaled, relinquishing the female's combined smell, before she drew their scent back into her nose. It had taken her years to finely attune her sharp senses, but she could now smell an emotion as easily as a human could notice the fetor of rotten garbage. She exhaled again, breathing out on a prolonged, relieved sigh when she could detect only Irina and Heidi's calm contentedness billowing toward her. All was secure in their domain. The hard knots of tension coiled so tightly in her compact shoulders, that there was a constant dull, aching pain lancing up the tendons in the column of her neck and into the base of her skull, relaxed somewhat. It gladdened her immensely to know that the security of her home remained consistent and intact. In the grand scheme of things, she and her family had so very little working in their favour at present. Another Fae tracked down too late to save his life, when her ancient race was already on the edge of extinction. A dozen armies of Newborn vampires doing bloody battle with each other for supremacy on every continent, a rising interest from the human world as a result and the ruling body of the Supernatural Collective demanding the situation be remedied. Victoria, her relentless adoptive Sire and the one female she trusted almost above everyone else, was no closer to hunting down a Mage powerful enough to undo the complex magics that had created the Áthrafstos, the Sicarri's Binding Stone. But the greatest, most prominent concern weighing heavily on her mind, on the minds of all her Coven, was the twin's upcoming birthday.
The crisp wind slashed the contours of her ageless face, sweeping through the thick, silken strands of her mahogany mane of hair, left loose to cascade down several inches under her shoulder blades. Up on the dashboard, laying against the reinforced windscreen, her I-phone suddenly pinged, signalling she had a new message. Unconstrained by the harness of a seatbelt, Bella leaned forward in the driver's seat, a sleek slide of toned muscle beneath Armani silk. Encircling the silver device, sitting inside an opaque protector, she swiftly unlocked the I-phone's screen with her thumb and accessed her messages. Rapidly flicking her bruised purple eyes between her phone and the forest ahead, she continued to agilely weave the Land Rover around nature's obstacle course, never slowing, while she scanned her newest message. The scenic woods blurred past her, whooshing on by in her ears.
Akasha. 10:03AM.
-Queen Nymeria owns the club our deceased Fae visited, but she will not see me until tomorrow night-
Bella sank her sharp, perfect white teeth into the inside of her porcelain cheek, struggling to find the flare of irritated anger she knew she should feel at the news. One of her kind lay dead and his murderer was undoubtedly a Valkyrie. Explanations were owed and Justice needed to be served, yet the Valkyrie Queen was forestalling the provision of redress. The dark slashes of Bella's eyebrows lowered into a brooding frown. She'd had many dealings with Queen Nymeria over the last two decades and she had always found the Valkyrie to be fair and direct, uncommon traits she appreciated in a politician. Intuition and experience whispered to her that this particular situation was about to get complicated, however, she found herself unable to devote this development it's due attention. Nothing else mattered to her but returning to Rosalie, perhaps that was selfish of her but she hadn't asked for the world and it's problems to come crashing into her lap. With her thumb, she rapidly tapped out a reply to her biological Sire's text, requesting that the older female call her following Akasha's audience with Queen Nymeria. Not waiting for a text back, she already knew that her biological Sire would respect her wish to remain up-to-date, she casually tossed the I-phone back onto the dash, the device impacted with a dull thud.
The unneeded breath left Bella's body as the forest thinned out, the tree line broke to reveal a picturesque courtyard bejewelled with Esme's beautifully glittering ice sculptures, pictorial and larger-than-life depictions of woodland creatures. The Coven's adored matriarchal figure had spared no effort to carve out her painstakingly perfect sculptures, Esme's dedication had produced such detail that each animal seemed impossibly realistic. Mount Mckinley, the largest mountain in the states loomed, stout and tremendous, with an impressive elevation of six thousand, one hundred and ninety metres above Esme's garden, it's peak capped with snow and clouds swirling around the mountain's great summit. Denali Mansion rose up from the mountain's base, part rock, part marble. Under Esme, Alice and Carmen's trained eyes, Emmett and Jasper had constructed two additional stories to the magnificent, sprawling architecture over the years. The third floor was marked by a single, long balcony, accessible from within through the numerous sliding glass doors. Enormous marble lions stood sentry at either end of the balcony with fangs bared and atop the roof sat gargoyles, staring outward with empty yet all seeing eyes. The rows of gleaming windows winked at her across the distance. She was home, at last.
A melting sensation swept through her chest, like a powerful avalanche of water bursting through a dam, excitement and anticipation prickled at the underside of her skin. The bruised purple of her eyes darkened further until her irises smouldered black. She let up on the accelerator and switched to second gear, turning the wheel of her Land Rover, she took a right as she began to encroach on the edge of Esme's garden of ice sculptures, continuing onward until she spotted the wide, clear path leading through the vivid sculptures on the left hand side. Once Esme's garden was in her rear view mirror, she drove around the side of the Mansion, toward the detached garage. Another of Emmett and Jasper's projects, the completely detached structure was forged from black chrome and glass show windows. Wider than it was tall, the two storey garage housed a hundred vehicles belonging to the Coven, which was by no means the full extent of their collections. With one hand, Bella opened her glove box and fished out a touch-screen, oval-shaped remote, smaller than her palm. An LED light switched on, glowing red, as she pressed the pad of her thumb to the circular scanner at the bottom of the remote, allowing the device to read and accept her fingerprint. The LED light turned from red to sky blue, signalling that she could now enter the outbuilding. Well oiled hinges silently and seamlessly heaved the massive chrome door open at her command and she sped into the garage, the wheels of her car squealed on the asphalt. The state of the art motion-sensors rigged in the ceiling detected her movement and the fluorescent overhead lights stuttered to life, filling the wide garage in bright light that overflowed through the show windows and glared upon the snow-covered ground outside. She easily located one of her designated spaces and parked the Land Rover next to Rosalie's crimson Subaru Forester, one of many vehicles in her mate's expansive and eclectic collection, at the start of a row.
Killing the V4 engine, she extracted her keys from the ignition, grabbed her black duffel bag from the leather passenger seat and carelessly shoved the driver's side door open with more force than necessary in her haste to reach the Mansion proper. She felt solid steel give way beneath her hand, as if she were kneading dough, as she slammed the door shut behind her. She did not need to look to know she had left a dent in the shape of a palm print engraved into the side of her car. Swifter than most living eyes could see, Bella pocketed her keys, shouldered her duffel bag and took off at an eager run. In an indiscernible blur of colourless motion, she exited the garage, narrowly remembering to swipe her finger over the 'close' button on the remote as she went. She slipped the small device into her pocket along with her keys. Snow crunched beneath her designer boots. The bitter wind came at her from all directions, blowing viciously. She ran toward the steps, trailing up to the Mansion's double, reinforced oak front doors. The shiny, marble steps were slippery as a layer of ice had settled over them. A creature of perpetual agility and grace, she barely noticed. She was desperate to feel Rosalie in her arms again, the overwhelming yearning to touch her mate's flawless flesh, to hear the blonde's enchanting voice, to taste the perfection of Rosalie's full pink lips, to bask in the sight of the most haunting female in creation, to fill her lungs with Rosalie's scent, seized her unbeating heart in a merciless fist. Nothing else mattered.
The front doors were large, and thick, and heavy. Even beneath the overcast sky, the sun shrouded in grey clouds, the solid gold door handles glimmered. Bella threw open the doors and swept into the grand vestibule. The wind rushed forth with her, howling through the vaulted ceiling. The was a snow storm brewing, sheets of snow and ice plummeted down from the sky, white crystals covered the ground. The majestic diamond chandelier filled the spacious entry way with warm light. A series of marble columns ascended from the mosaic flooring, all of them ornately carved, to support the roof. Denali Mansion was a compounding tapestry of renaissance décor and structure filled with modern convenience, one might think this melding would produce something garish and disjointed, yet Denali Mansion proved to be exempt, everything within her home was cohesive and splendid.
The air stilled as Bella's black eyes came to rest upon the trio of females crowded closely together at the foot of the grand staircase, it's oak balustrades shined radiantly in the light from the chandelier, the marble steps were draped with a high thread count carpet of the deepest teal, trimmed with gold. The fist of longing around her heart squeezed ever tighter as her gaze fell upon her mate, a shudder of sheer awareness rippled over her body as she let her hungry eyes wonder over the breathtaking flawlessness that was Rosalie Hale, interacting with her fiery adoptive vampire Sire, Victoria, and the reformed Volturi guard, Jane. The three were whispering suspensively and rapidly, so quickly that a human would likely fail to catch the words leaving their mouths. Even at a distance, the intensity of their conversation was not lost on her. The other three females were so engrossed with their heated debate that neither one of them noticed her arrival..
Victoria wore a feral snarl as the redhead glared at Jane, every muscle in her Sire's nimble body was corded with strained aggression, her demeanour coupled with the genuine, tawny lion-fur coat she wore made Victoria seem bestial. Jane, in turn, was gesturing pointedly with her pale hands, as if in supplication, the elder vampire was dwarfed by an oversized maroon knit sweater, doubtlessly one of Jacob's. Bella felt a furious growl erupt from her chest as she watched Rosalie, her mouth set in a grim line, suddenly rake her long, slender fingers through the luxuriously thick and glossy, length of her golden blonde hair in exasperation. Anger immediately sprang to boiling point in the pit of her hard stomach, her hands morphed into white-knuckled fists at her sides, her short, sharp nails cutting painfully into her palms. After so long a time apart, it infuriated her to come home and find her mate in an agitated state, no matter how mild, no matter the reason for it. She already knew from the texts she had exchanged with Rosalie when her plane had landed, and on her drive from the Anchorage international airport, that Ashley and Lucas had left for school that morning, as was the norm and that the shifters had been providing Rosalie with half hourly updates that reported no unusual activity in the sleepy town of Healy where the Twins were enrolled, therefore to there was no justifiable or acceptable excuse for her to arrive home and witness the cloak of tension lining her mate's beauteous form..
She let her heavy duffel bag slip from her shoulder and fall to the floor with a muted sound, but that small sound was enough to bring an end to the conversation being had at the foot of the staircase as Victoria and Jane tilted their heads, and Rosalie, her back to the staircase, lifted her chin, to acknowledge her. Rosalie's breath hitched. The hefty tension visibly piled upon the blonde's slim shoulders evaporated and the grim set to her mouth turned into a stunning smile.
The violent snarl on Victoria's lips perished, like the last traces of a blustery night sky, "Enough for now." She bit out, sending Jane one last savage glare before she stalked away into an alcove, slipping through a darkened doorway into the industrial sized kitchen.
Bella could hear Esme hard at work in the room beyond and smell the vibrant, freshness of vegetables as well as the robust aroma of seasoned red meat currently being prepared for cooking. The shifters devoured every meal as if it were their last on Earth and Esme took great pleasure in providing the Quileutes with nothing less deserving than three Michelin stars on a daily basis. Bella's pupils changed into narrowed slits, her eyes taking on the appearance of those belonging to a viper, as she picked up on a mild, unfamiliar scent. Her preternatural senses detected no sign of a threat. There was no air of danger inside the Mansion tingling warningly along her skin, if there had been, Rosalie, to her mated animal's instinctive displeasure, would have been at the fore to confront it. She cocked her head and blinked, finally deciding that Esme must have imported some foreign ingredient that she had not yet encountered in her immortal life, perhaps from another Realm.
Jane was the elder, however, Victoria proved to be the wiser. The former Volturi guard flicked a meaningful look between Rosalie and Bella.
"This cannot be ignored." Jane said to Rosalie, forceful in her righteous conviction.
Unable to tolerate even a tenuous separation any longer, Bella wordlessly stalked forward, closing the distance between herself and Rosalie. The world seemed to slow with every step, echoing in the Mansion's vestibule. She drank in the willowy vision of her mate as she approached. The blonde had left her gorgeous golden hair to tumble to the middle of her back in soft waves. Rosalie wore a simple yet stylish dress, Versace in all likelihood as the blonde Fae had been favouring that particular fashion house of late, made of supple champagne-coloured silk flowing over the gorgeous contours of her body, complementing her bewitching statuesqueness, and clinched just below the ample swells of her titillating breasts. The expensive material clung tightly to the flat plain of the other Fae's toned stomach and ended at the middle of the blonde's long magnolia pale thighs. Rosalie was barefoot, a dainty gilded anklet encircled the exquisite delicateness of her left ankle. A gold Tiffany twist knot hung around the blonde's slender neck, the necklace's pendent rested between slight collarbones. Bella's coal black eyes came to focus upon the otherworldly radiance of Rosalie's face, she traced the ethereally captivating angles and shapes of her mate's features as she had done a million times before, the sumptuous pink lips, enviable high cheekbones, deceptively strong jaw, the picturesque slashes of her golden eyebrows and long, thick eyelashes. The world stopped as their eyes, both black with emotion and hunger, met for the first time in seven days. A tempestuous inferno of warm sensations set fire to the venom inside her. If she'd had a heartbeat, she was certain the organ would be thumping so hard in her chest that the veins in her neck would be throbbing visibly. Rosalie trembled before her. With a husky growl, almost a purr, Bella seized the flare of the blonde's hips in her hands and jerked her mate into her lissome arms. Aching with bliss, the very fibre of her being thrumming with elation at their reunion, she held Rosalie close, their bodies fitting together filled her with a sense of absolute rightness. Bella buried her face in the curve of her mate's neck as the blonde's arms encircled her tightly, goosebumps spread across her body at the contact. Instinctively, her mouth sought out the silvery, circular scar marking Rosalie's neck. The weight of her lover's head came to rest upon her shoulder, she felt Rosalie's airy sigh against the curve of her cheek as she pressed a kiss, tender and soft, to the lasting evidence of her claim on the woman she loved.
Lightning struck, sizzling and crackling in the air. Animal instinct pounded incessantly in the base of her skull as she lovingly nuzzled the mate mark incised into her lover's flesh, a caress filled with heated promise. She marvelled at the velvet softness of the skin against her roving cheek as if feeling Rosalie's flesh against hers for the first time. Words, gentle and reverent, gathered on the tip of her tongue. Buried in the recesses of her mind, that shrinking part of her that still thought and rationalised as a human, realised that a week was not a truly long period of time. But she was not human, she had never been a human, she was Fae, a true bonded Fae, and for her to be separated from Rosalie for any length of time defied the Law of Nature. By all the Gods in all their Heavens, she had missed Rosalie. So much. Words were useless. She could search for a hundred lifetimes but she would never locate words to convey just how much. She could feel the same inability in Rosalie's touch.
Mine. All mine. My mate. The mother of my young.
Warmth radiated outward from Rosalie's perfect body as Bella crushed her female to her, enfolding the tall blonde snugly against herself, protectively and possessively. The blonde's scent deepened, growing richer, calling out to the animal prowling around beneath her skin, barely concealed within her. Her gums began to pulsate with building intensity, her strong pearl white teeth ached to be buried inside Rosalie, the knowledge that for one hundred and sixty-eight hellish hours she had been bereft of the opportunity to bathe her mate in her scent to warn off possible threats to her claim was unbearable. The roiling hunger that had plagued her constantly for seven days unleashed a ravenous howl inside the empty pit of her stomach.
Striking with the swiftness of a serpent, she sealed her full, pale pink lips over the mate mark, sinking her sharp teeth deep and reopening the silvery scar that she had left upon her beloved the night they had first made love, then soothingly, she swirled her talented tongue over the slightly upraised lines of the wound, eagerly lapping up the live-giving venom spilling into her mouth. At the succulent taste of her mate's flesh and the thick, luscious venom she had been denied for a week, she growled appreciatively against Rosalie's graceful swan neck, wanting nothing more than to bite down harder and to feed from her mate in earnest. Only Rosalie's venom could sustain her. Likewise, only her royal venom could satisfy Rosalie's hunger. It was the same for all mated Fae and for their kind, feeding from one's soulmate was one of the most intimate and erotic acts a mated pair could share. Bella would not tolerate another watching Rosalie come apart in her arms while she fed from her. Rosalie's pleasure was for her and for her alone. Her mate moaned in pleasured pain as she remorselessly suckled at the mate mark, diligently reaffirming her claim over the female and the eternal bond between them. The blonde's hands roamed freely over the strong stretch of her back, stroking her, as desperate to touch her as she was to feel the other female against her. Her lover's resounding moan trailed out into a purr, both content and seductive.
Bella felt Rosalie's hot mouth on the titanium hard tendon in the side her neck, the blonde's full lips, soft as the inside petals of a rose in bloom, brushed against her steadily heating flesh in a feather-light caress. Edgy need crawled into her body as Rosalie's lips drifted upwards, seeking. Reluctantly, Bella lifted her head, ceasing the motion of her questing mouth upon the mate mark branded high into the column of the blonde's neck. Primal satisfaction was a burning storm raging inside every cell in her body as her coal black eyes feasted upon the sight before her, the mate mark Rosalie's flesh was red and vivid for all to see. As she watched, a single droplet of her mate's precious, clear venom sluggishly ran down the side of her female's neck. Her lips curved into a smile, even as her mouth watered hungrily.
Rosalie tilted her head back, dark, hooded eyes blazing with a blatant invitation.
Bella's mouth found hers instantly, searing and possessive. The blonde's lips were parted just enough for her invading tongue to slip past them and they both groaned the sweet taste of each other. Her hands glided from the flare of the blonde's hips, to the stretch of her mate's lower back. Her fingertips slid along the silk of Rosalie's dress, upward over the other Fae's bare upper back, to tangle in Rosalie's incredibly thick golden mane as they kissed deeply, desiring nothing more than to blot out the rest of the world for a long while and to surrender to growing need settling low in her abdomen. A whimper escape Rosalie's lips as the blonde pressed ever closer into her body, the creamy swells of her lover's breasts rubbed against her own. The small noise inflamed her senses, pressure built behind her clit and her labia swelled with lust. Kissing Rosalie would never be enough, could never be enough. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the fire of the blonde's mouth. She growled with desire as her mate passionately licked and suckled at her tongue. She nipped at the other female's full lips, her fingers tightened in golden blonde locks, hungrily pulling her mate ever closer. Rosalie's lips moved beneath hers, kissing her harder. The blonde moaned for her, rich and earthy, vibrating with needy purring growls.
Jane spoke through gritted teeth, her melodic voice brimming with impatience, "Rosalie. You must deal with this. Now." The last syllable, spoken hurriedly and with great urgency, echoed through the Mansion's grand vestibule, resounding throughout the oak rafters.
She felt her mate grow taut against her, supple and lean muscles locking to become rigid. Tearing herself away from Rosalie's sweet embrace, Bella rounded on the former Volturi guard, a furious snarl on her face. Her enraged roar shook the very foundations of her home, a dark challenge given voice. Whatever the trio had been discussing as she had entered the Mansion had obviously been causing her mate a good deal of stress and neither she, nor the animal tearing at the underside of her skin, eager to silence the one attempting to refocus Rosalie's attention on anything other than their long-awaited reunion, would stand for it. Didn't they deserve a few moments of peace, a peace they could only ever find with each other and their young, before the axe that had hung precariously over their hard-won happiness for nearly two decades enviably dropped?. Bella's jet black eyes, the inky black of her irises spreading to the whites of her eyes in dangerous, dark blotches, narrowed in outrage, her steely gaze fixed and staring at the petite blonde vampire.
In a smeared flash of movement, Jane recoiled from her with a hiss, flinching as she dropped into a defensive crouch. The scent of the vampire's well-placed fear was palpable on the air, she could taste it on the cool air, tingling on the bed of her tongue. Bella shuddered with the need to leap, to rend and maul, to hear the gratifying crack of bones. Sister, mated to one of her closest friends or not, Jane should have known better than to interject herself between her and Rosalie, mere moments after her return to Denali, when her instinctive drive to reclaim her mate was at it's highest. Beneath black Armani silk, the slates of her strong muscles rippled, corded with immense power.
Jane, her blonde hair gathered into a low knot, bowed her head submissively, offering up the vulnerable nape of her neck to appease the volatile brunette Fae, and fastening her golden eyes firmly on the polished mosaic under her small feet as her petite frame quivered. The former Volturi guard didn't dare to run, lest the movement trigger the Fae's barely contained instinct to attack. Though in possession of an impressive and terrible gift, the vampire made no attempt to utilise her powers to protect herself, even when confronted by an untamed animal with hackles raised bellicosely. As a sub-species of Fae, a vampire's gifts were ineffectual against their ancestors.
Thunderclouds raged in Bella's dark eyes as glowered down at Jane, her attention divided between studying the delicate vertebrae evident at the back of the vampire's neck, ensconced between the thick neckline of Jacob's large maroon sweater and the low knot of blonde hair, and the feel of Rosalie pressed into her side.
"Hush, love. Let it go." Rosalie breathed calmingly into the shell of her ear, pressing a kiss to the lobe. Bella's clenched her teeth so tightly a persistent tic formed in her cheek as her mate peppered a series of kisses along the line of her jaw. The blonde's regal hand, soft and warm, slid beneath the hem of her silk shirt and Bella sucked in a sharp breath as Rosalie began to lightly draw slow assuasive circles over her stomach, the muscles beneath her skin flexed and jumped in response to her mate's touch.
At Rosalie's beckoning, the aggressive anger drilling into her chest suddenly abated and sound coherence returned. If she was a loaded gun, Rosalie was her trigger.
Rosalie continued to stroke Bella's bare stomach as the blonde shot Jane's hunched form a stoic glance that betrayed nothing. Her mate spoke in a quiet, honey-smooth voice, her tone forbidding,"I won't hear any more of it, Jane. Go, take a walk."
Without glancing up at the bonded pair and still shaking, the former Volturi guard nodded stiffly in resignation and quicker than possible for a human, straightened from her crouch and silently slunk off to the wide open double doors, disappearing from view as she sealed the front doors behind her.
Bella looked to Rosalie, against her will, the unanswered question began to push it's way to the forefront of her mind. The blonde angled her head and rested their temples together, "And I won't speak of it. Not, until after you've taken me to bed."
TBC . . .