Roxy brought Jacob down a long corridor The silence between them customary. There was nothing more to be said, and neither one was in the mood for small talk.

When she opened the door, Jacob walked in, incautious. But the sight before him took him off guard.

A vampire sat in a mass of red silk, diamonds sparkling from the bodice, pearls encrusted into velvet black hair that was pinned on top of her head. It almost hurt to look at such beauty.

Then he looked into her face.

And nearly blacked out.

She possessed the most stunningly gorgeous face any man had ever beheld.

"I am Breanna, wife of Ashareth," she said grandly. Her red eyes calm and regal behind thick black lashes.

"Jacob," he choked out.

She laughed, a delicate sound. "I know who you are Jacob Black. You have driven my husband mad with anxiety. Although-" She leaned forward slightly, scrutinizing his eyes more closely. "My husband can be rather different. I, for one, would have also worried over finding someone as handsome as you."

He flushed, and she laughed again. "You are delightful, boy. Roxannah, could I keep him? You could tie him up in a bow for me." She smiled flirtatiously at him. Jacob reddened deeper.

Roxannah was silent, looking absently at the door.

"Madam," she said quietly after a moment, "I have brought him for explanations."

"Ahh, Roxy," She sighed, snapping open a fan, "Always so practical."

Roxy curtsied.

"Well, I might as well," Breanna sighed again, "Have you ever heard of the Black Prophecy?"

Jacob glanced at her. It sounded like some idiotic fiction title.

"It's an old one, I believe it's nearing its three-hundredth year." Breanna said, clicking her fan, "It involves the hundredth Black son."

What was she, racist? Despite his usual tendencies, Jacob kept his mouth shut.

"As in, Jacob Black."

Oh.

He glanced at her dismissively, "What about some100-year-old guy?"

"The hundredth son of Kaok."

"Who?"

"Kaok. His direct descendants' last name is Black."

"What does this guy have to do with anything?"

Her eyes flashed, and he stared back, unflinching. "Everything. The Black Prophecy states that the hundredth Black son will become as a lover of the evil blood, and become the successor of a fatal gift," Breanna murmured.

He blinked.

"It MEANS you will become a vampire, and be the successor to Ashareth's throne," Roxy answered for Breanna, annoyed.

"HOW?" He was sick with horror.

Roxy's tone was sharp. "The hundredth Black son is confirmed as fact. That's you. A lover of evil blood, it means you will become a vampire, and crave the Volturri's blood. Their blood is evil. Then, Ashareth's throne is a gift, and it will be fatal, as you will have to kill Ashareth to continue."

"And he WANTS this to happen?"

"Eventually." Breanna cut in, her velvety voice soft.

"Sounds like you people have done a great deal of interpreting."

Breanna's impossibly lovely face was hard. "We're sure it's true."

He glanced at her skeptically.

She laughed, a soft twinkling sound. "You truly are fascinating, wolf-boy. I must say, I am excited to see you as a vampire in the future. You'll no doubt be even more attractive."

He flushed, "Roxy," he growled, "Let's go,"

"Don't leave me yet, not so soon," Breanna's tone was alluring, but underneath it was a razor edge. "You know you want to stay."

"He's right, Madam," Roxy said quietly, "I have to get him back to his cell."

"Who gave you the orders to keep him there?"

"Lord Ashareth, Lady."

"Does Lord Ashareth ever decide not to give me what I want, Roxannah?"

"No, Madam."

"Then what are your arguments?"

"I have none."

"Good." Breanna flashed a dazzling smile at Jacob. "You may leave Roxannah."

Roxy, face sullen, disappeared.

Breanna stepped down from her seat, her red dress falling in clouds of silk around her.

He blinked. She was an inch from his face. It hurt his eyes to look at such perfection.

"Jacob," she breathed, sliding her hand around his neck. "It must have been so difficult."

"What?" he asked, struggling to keep calm.

"Your life. It sounds…appalling." She hesitated, cocking her head at him.

He watched her silently. "Breanna," his tone was a warning. He was thrilled with the unrevealing smoothness of his voice. If only she knew how fast his heart was beating.

"Your heart," She was only a centimeter away from his face, "it's beating so fast. Whatever is it excited about?" she flirted.

So much for that.

He closed his eyes, trying desperately to find the will within himself. "Breanna," his voice was cool.

"What?" her voice was murderous beneath its silky drawl.

"You're married."

She sighed, and he felt the presence of her hand removed from his neck.

He opened his eyes. She was a good two feet away from him now, to his profound relief.

"He doesn't mind," Breanna said softly.

"I highly doubt that," he informed her.

"He doesn't have to know…" she pouted.

"You know you're beautiful, Breanna, but I really can't love you."

"Why not?" There was no covering coy tone this time to hide the harsh iciness.

"Because..." His eyes glimmered dangerously. "This isn't the time. I'm being held captive, my only lover is currently not breathing, my daughter has been snatched, and," he said flatly, "no offense, but you really do stink."

She gazed at him coolly, "no offense."

He shrugged.

She frowned, a crease forming between her brows. "You do smell horrible. And yet…" She lowered her long lashes demurely, "I am still so very intrigued."

"Seriously?" He was astounded. As much as she was a bombshell, she was most definitely a disgusting bloodsucker. He was attracted, obviously, but the simple fact that his very fiber opposed hers kept him stable.

"Yes. Definitely. This is so very strange, I must say. I've dealt with your kind more than once, and all of them are utterly repulsive. You are really not."

"Interesting. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Jacob," she threatened.

"I apologize, but I'm not doing this."

"Yes, you are."

His eyes narrowed. "That is, last time I checked, MY decision," he said acidly.

She growled, baring her perfect teeth.

A ripple ran up his spine, and he leapt through the air, crouching in wolf form in the corner. To his surprise, she started to laugh, the tension leaving her.

"You are far more alert than I suspected, Jacob Black. You WILL love me," she said confidently, "even if not now."

"Try me," he said, and turned on his heel, walking from the room. Roxy was waiting in the hallway.

"I swear," Breanna heard Jacob say, "does ANYBODY live in the twenty first century around here?"

Try me.

Breanna smiled. It was on.