This chapter came all at one time. Right Now.Tonight. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did, writing.

Our Divinity Knows No Bounds

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"There is no chance, no destiny, no fate that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul."

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I slumped against the demon, feeling more stupid than trite or insignificant. I knew. I had to have known. How could one be so horrifically ignorant to something so painfully obvious? My breaths came slowly as I swallowed the thick, hard truth—and it wouldn't settle in my belly. I felt betrayed.

Heartbroken.

Slighted.

Because as much as I thought Edward to be like me, as much as I wished for him to understand, as much as I thought he was beginning to—there was an entire world between us. The deepest chasm anyone would ever have to cross was laid out between he and I—between our two, opposite races.

And everything suddenly made so much sense. Why it was so disgustingly easy for the English to win a battle, to conquer an opponent such as Ireland if they so pleased. It was easy to see now why Edward was so cold, why his lips felt as if ice had caressed them. Why he seemed so ashamed of this secret. Why Aro's eyes were red. Why the English people so revered their masters. Why the family Volturi seemed to be ageless. Why they seemed to be superior to Father Time himself.

My stomach churned, and I emptied it into the nearest rosebush.

"Always the charmer, Bella."

I gave a little, bitter moan, code for shut the hell up you hideous, bloodthirsty mongrel.

The frigid chill of hate budded once again within me, but my heart ached an even stronger wound.

"What's happened?"

And somehow, his voice made the hairs of my neck stand on end, my body and heart reacting to him in a much more affectionate way than my mind was screaming. Logic told me to loathe him, to distance myself, and scolded me for getting so close in the first place. But my soul, the warm, tender place in me that held some sort of care for the undead prince—it told me not to care about race or enemy lines, lies or secrets. It cared only for the man that was Edward, disregarding anything that was not in his soul.

"Well," Q began, and I could almost envision his finger tapping his chin in mock thought.

"You idiot," Edward scolded quietly, harshly… regretfully. Had Q answered him? My face was still cradled in my hands, and I could smell the scent of my sick. My head was foggy, light with the overload of information. I could not bring myself to look at Edward.

"Bella," and when he crouched down beside me, his caring, gentle hands moving to caress my back, I shied away from their welcome touch. It seemed my head would always win with me. Body and heart aside, my mind was logic, and logic was always right.

"Don't you touch me," I whispered, feeling the hot, burning sensation of tears sting behind my eyelids. I rose slowly, finally looking at the enigma I had wanted for so many months to unravel. I suddenly wished I had never tried. He stared at me, broken frown intact, eyes shadowed still by midnight silhouettes.

"Bella," he breathed, pleading, "let me explain. Please."

I shook my head, recoiling as he reached out again. Q watched with a sick sense of amusement, the smugness painted perfectly on his smile.

"Seems you've mixed business with pleasure, Edward."

Edward growled, eyes on me as I backed away, "Quiet." I turned from the both of them, tired of their masks. The nobles watched me as I passed them, special attention on my tears. Aro did not speak, nor nod, nor give witty remark as I passed him. He merely looked past me, towards the garden. I felt hollow.

The walk back to my room was quiet, lonely, cold, securing the hole in my chest a permanent position.

But I was not so alone once I shut the door.

"So now you know."

Alice did not startle me as she emerged from the darkness, though I admit I had expected it to be her brother standing there, not her.

"I do," I murmured, still hurt by the blow of honesty, "though I always could feel something was amiss with you."

"Edward cares for you, you know," the way she said her brother's name sounded more like Edvard, and my lip quirked at the little accent she carried. But it was hard to smile around her, knowing what she was, that she could turn on me at any moment.

"That I do not know," I said forcefully, undoing the strings of my garment as I moved toward the door that led to my bedroom.

"I know you care for him too!" she half-yells, her voice the rawest of pleas, stopping me dead in my tracks, hand on the door knob, "please do not turn him away, Bella, you've no idea how you've changed his world."

I licked my lips, "You should go."

She shakes her head severely, moving towards me. I give her a cold stare and she stops, dropping her hand, "If you've cared for him at all, you will listen to what he has to say. Aro will be coming by in the morning. Now that you know…" she trails off, regaining her words in the next few moments, "now that you know, things will change. Perhaps drastically."

And I know there is no reason for her to use words of chance. The way her eyes avoid mine tells me she knows very well that things will transform to the extreme.

"Goodbye, Alice."

"Wait, Bella…" her face creases, and she's angry now, a subtle anger, but anger still.

"Can you not accept Edward because he is different? Would that not make you a hypocrite, Bella?"

"I cannot accept Edward because he lied to me, because he betrayed my trust," did I care that he was a vampire? I wasn't sure, not yet, though the concept frightened me somewhat, "I cannot accept him, any of you, because you've slaughtered my people mercilessly all these years, knowing we stood no chance against you. Not because we did not have the weapons, not because we did not have the men, but because we were an inferior race! You and your people are cruel, Alice, unforgiving and conniving. We were never on equal playing fields, and my father knew nothing of the circumstances."

She is silenced, and I am exhausted, not so secure in my words as I once was.

The dawn is up for hours before there is a knock on my door. I still wear the dress I wore to the ball, my waves are slightly flatter than they were at their prime, and my lips and cheeks have lost their vivacious rouge.

"Come in," I whisper, knowing whoever it is—though I have a good idea—will hear me.

It is not Edward, as I expect, but rather, Aro, his startling red eyes a jolt of reality in the morning.

"Good morning, Isabella," he says not unkindly, "how have you slept?"

"My dreams seemed to be plagued with vulgar monsters of myth," I intoned, staring straight at him with unflinching consistency. He chuckles, smiling broadly and I wonder if nothing fazes him. Gently, he reached out, taking my hair between his fingers. I am like a statue, sitting like stone beneath his hands.

"We are not such horrible beasts, Isabella," he muttered, "certainly Edward has shown you that."

"And how would you have me believe Edward's…" affection, kisses, whispers, "… kindness was not all a lie, a façade to make me see a better side of you?"

"Believe what you wish, but I have never had full control of Edward. He is a free spirit," and I can tell by the way his face darkens that he is telling me the truth, "Edward has always done what he wishes, reveals what he sees fit to reveal. All of his sentiments," and he looks at me now, long and hard, "intimate or no, have been his own."

"This changes nothing, Aro, it only brings about more reasons for me to think you a tyrant, a monster," I sigh deeply, letting my eyes roam away from his haunting face, "Please," I murmur, "I just want go home."

"Impossible," he growls, "why would I let my enemy's daughter walk freely from my castle? Either Charlie will yield to me, or you will face a worse fate than your country."

"What could be worse?" and I'm crying now, screaming at this devil of a king, my tears free, unchained, "my heart is heavy because of your blasted nephew, my soul aches for my family, my body is imprisoned in this gods forsaken place, " my hands flail, motioning uselessly to the four walls that entrap me, "and all I have to look forward to is the fact that maybe, just perhaps there is some pity in you, and you will not kill every last Irishman that walks this earth. For I know you have the means to do so… and the will to accompany it."

I see no pity though, as Aro looks down at me, disgusted by my weakness almost as much as I am, "I show no mercy."

Scoffing, I reply, "Your motto. Your soldier's mantra as they march across the bloodied battlefield."

"Correct," he hisses, and I try to stare up at him through blurry, watered vision, "I tried to show you kindness, Isabella, tried to reason with your father's iron will through you. But now, it seems, as though he will not come for you," and the wicked smile once again appears, "unless, of course, he thinks you are no more."

I feel hopeless, not destined to anything, "You crush everything you touch, Midas," I whisper, "how much will you burn before you realize that your own robes are on fire?"

He growls, taking my chin roughly between his thumb and forefinger, "everything!"

It's midnight before I venture from my room, my bare feet touching the cold linoleum, making no sound. I wander through the grand castle, my tear exhausted eyes tracing the angels flight on the ceiling, their fall, and their eternity I hell after all is said and done. I marvel at the grand artistry of the depiction, and feel a great need to know by whose hand it was all drawn.

Was it some ancient vampire? Edward himself? Alice? Jasper?

"They're quite a sight, are they not?"

I jerk my eyes to the perpetrator of my solitude, and Carlisle stands like one of the brilliant seraphs, illuminating the dark corridor, "Whoever painted these was quite an artist."

He nods, smiling, "Thank you."

I raise one brow, "You?"

"In another lifetime, yes," his sigh is long, deep, full of ancient mysteries, "I painted them when my eyes were still freshly red. It kept my mind from the bloodlust."

"Right," I murmur, "I forget that you are all… vampires."

The word brings a chill to my lips.

He regards me warily for a moment, "Does it not frighten you?"

Does it? All day, I've asked myself the same question, the words like a string floating in one ear, through my mind, and out the other. I do not feel frightened—the chills I get are not from fear, but from betrayal. I do not tremble as I stand before Carlisle, nor do I feel the need to run from him.

"What scares me more," I confess quietly, "is how much it hurts to know."

I see the gears turning in his mind, and his face lightens, "Edward wanted to tell you, he did Bella. But I forbade it. I knew what it could do to your bedazzlement. I knew how it could morph affection into fear. I know how it can turn your wide-eyed passion for him into naked horror. I've seen it many times over. I feared for his heart, you see."

"You speak of Edward as if he is the apple of your eye," I whisper, settling softly into conversation with this inscrutable creature before me, "do you not have many other sons and daughters to be insanely proud of?""Edward was my first son," he says carefully, "the first that I created. You see, the family Volturi is all a ruse. None except Aro, Marcus and Caius are truly related. It is a family formed by power, not by love or blood."

"I see," but, truly, I just did not want to know. Not yet. Created. Family. Power. Blood. Love. They were all foreign concepts to me. But it was not Carlisle I wished to explain them.

"I was inspired by the Sistine Chapel," he whispers.

"It is a shame that it is no more," I smile sadly at him, "it was truly a work of art."

"Things have their time," he says, looking directly at me now, "they prosper and fade—all things. What keeps one thing alive longer than another, I wonder?"

"I suppose it is sheer will."

"Will," Carlisle mutters, looking back up at the angels flying across the ceiling, trapped in this castle, dreaming of a blue sky one day.

We are all the same

Human in all our ways and all our pain

So let it be

There's a love that could fall down like rain

Let us see

Let forgiveness wash away the pain

What we need

And no one really knows what they are searching for

We Believe

This world is crying for so much more

I know, you think I totally went off topic at the end, but really it's completely relevant. Look deeper I urge you!