Disclaimer: i don't own Twilight - i don't even want to!

CHAPTER EIGHT

"My eyes are stuck open, love,
want more of him, they need less of this.
They're everything, they're unbelievable."

~ Christina Perri

Edward's hands are tight on my waist as he steadies me over a hip-high slab of smooth rock, no metal detectable in the material.

These slabs of marble-like rock are the remains of what was once a great Palace, which seemed almost Grecian in human architecture – wide pillars, several sets of stairs and smooth, cracked floors from years of the structure breaking down upon it.

I could not find it in myself to mourn the place that my ancestors had once lived; especially when I find a large, dark red stain on the crumbling floor in a large antechamber. Instead, I close my eyes and turn away from the place where my Grandfather murdered hundreds – if not thousands – of Leumian people, simply to drink their blood.

My lips lock down on my lower lip as I scan the dark, dust encrusted surfaces, motes of dust dancing in the lighted streams of air that break into the ruins.

This entire place is symbolic for so much – it's darkness contrasts with the bright life surrounding it just as the darkness of the time that happened here is so starkly different from the bustling years that are happening now.

"I could have this restored for you," Edward begins quietly.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "It should remain like this. Besides, I'm sure the King wouldn't appreciate a restoration."

"He wouldn't mind," Edward insists.

But we both know he would.

We move through the ruins, Edward being careful of my humanness – helping me over large chunks of rocks and the massive fallen shells of Leumian trees. And at no time during our hesitant explorations did I sense one iota of metal in the immediate area, which put me on edge.

I made a mental not to never venture to this area should I ever need to protect myself.

It was strikingly clear that I would not find protection in my family's ruins.

"What's that?" I ask, squinting into the charcoal darkness, shadows shrouding every nook and cranny.

Edward does not have to squint, though he does lean over me, the outline of his body pressing deliciously against mine. Until last night, thoughts of lust as unbidden as these had no reason to loiter in my mind. But that had changed – some visceral part of me had woken up to the call of his body.

And what a strong call it was.

I struggle to contain the shiver that flows through my body as the vibration of Edward's low hum causes his chest to tremble against my back. "It looks like a library," he says, his melodic voice hot in my ear.

Excitement rushes through me.

This is my chance, maybe my only chance, to learn about my ancestors that had lived for so long and in so much power on this gorgeous planet.

But upon closer examination, we find that the "library" is truly just a mess of unorganized scrolls, some in burnt heaps of ash. On Earth, scrolls much like these were catalogued as ancient artifacts – and even then, humans had graduated to books and eventually disk libraries in strict, compulsive orders.

I frown when I come across a single scroll that is locked away in what seems to be a glass container. I tap the translucent material, shocked to feel a rush of static flowing across my skin.

The sensation was not unlike feeling the rare shock of an electrical outlet.

It was entirely too familiar to my own psychic ability.

I must have gasped because Edward is suddenly behind me, pulling me away from the intriguing box. "Are you hurt?" he demands, his hand running frantically over my body – awakening a hunger that had to be pushed away for the moment but that I would be revisiting later.

"I'm fine," I tell him, patting his hands reassuringly. "But what's in the box?"

The corners of Edward's mouth pull down as he studies the perfectly smooth glass box, a large pristine red-wax sealed scroll resting on smooth material within. "It shocked you?"

I tear my eyes away from the box and nod.

"And it doesn't seem to have an opening…"

Before I can even dream of stopping him, Edward stands and his foot crushes the thick glass shell of the box, revealing the pristine scroll within. He unrolls the scroll, his cat-like pupils narrowing. "I cannot read this."

I stare at him in shock and stand, forcing my eyes away from his angular face and onto the coiled crisp scroll. Thick, random lines and shapes dominate the paper, seemingly having no pattern to be able to discern even one letter, let alone several words.

"This is ancient Leumian writing," Edward tells me before I can ask. "I never learned how to read it."

"Do you know someone who can?"

Edward looks down at me curiously. "One of the ancients," he says, rolling the scroll carefully and placing it inside some hidden pocket of his shirt. "A few are old enough to be able to read this. For now, though, we should move from here. I smell rain."

I feel a shudder run through my body as I remember the violent rains of this planet – and judging from Edward's expression as carefully brings a large hood attached to his cape over my head, he remembers too.

The cape falls over my eyes and a strange sound between a laugh and a growl escapes Edward's chest – something between being amused and also knowing that we need to leave soon.

His protective nature is overwhelmingly sweet and I find myself becoming more and more comfortable around him. Something in the way he hovers his body around me is comforting.

Trustworthy.

If I choose to do so, I could trust him with my heart and soul.

Thunder chooses that moment to strike above our heads, an encore to lightening unseen somewhere in the distance. At the loud noise, Edward's body had hunched over mine, his arms caging around me. He settles again once he realizes the noise of nature, though when he does pull away, his lips are set in a serious line; an expression I was starting to recognize.

"I should carry you back," he says. His tone leaves no room for argument.

I know that I should fight back from him, because I am a naturally stubborn person even when it's foolish to be so – stubbornly pushing myself, straining myself, asking questions that receive no answers and looking for solutions for problems when there is no way out.

Part of me supposes that I should have fought harder against my father sending me to Leumin – but then, there hadn't been any other way to me to sustain a life outside of a mental institution.

And, had I not come to Leumin, I wouldn't have learned of my heritage. I wouldn't have met Edward.

But just like that, suspicion rises in my gut, heavy and hard – had my father known about my mother?

Pushing the thought away for further inspection later, I pull Edward's cape tighter around my thin body as a chill from a shockingly heavy wind blows up the skirts of my dress.

Edward carries me close to his chest, one are supporting my back and the other supporting the bend of my knees. He doesn't seem to have any trouble carrying my extra weight – and I'd been led to believe that humans and Leumian's weren't too different from each other.

I suppose strength wasn't factored into the comparisons.

I feel completely protected in his embrace, once I get over my frustration of needing to listen to Edward's demands. Keep my arms inside the cape, the hood over my head and close my eyes when the wind blows. I acknowledged that I was being ridiculous to try to counter his very reasonable requests – after all, all of those things would protect me from the potentially harmful wind and the bracing cold of the air around us.

Still, I am thankful when we reach the mountainous palace – thankful to be relying on my own body and decisions to look after myself and thankful to be indoors as the wind had grown increasingly cool. I was sure the air was below freezing outside and, had there been any amount of precipitation, there would have been the Leumian version of snow on the ground.

Discreetly, Edward pats the pocket that hides the scrolls and leads me down the maze of rounded hallways that was his palace. We pass many people – servants and, what I assume to be, nobility – along the way and they bow deeply to the both of us.

"You are their Princess, now," he murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple when I let out a shocked gasp.

But I shouldn't have been shocked – logically, of course I am their Princess. I just mated their Prince. None of this should be surprising to me.

Unconsciously, I remember that I have been in a position of power for my entire life – in various ways, even.

Most formidable, or dangerous, in psychic abilities. My range was so vast with my first ability that it singled me out in the Psychic Testing Facility – isolating me from others my age or with psychic abilities because my talent was neither secret or hidden from use. I suppose it scared people, humans especially.

I am also the daughter of the Grand President of the Earth and while my father's title is quite ridiculous, his power over the planet is not. People around the globe bow to him, leaders of every country and the leaders of those continents all-falling to his conniving whims during his role of power. And, as a side effect, this also meant that their children became seekers of my favors at a very young age – even before my mother died. On Earth, I was viewed as a Princess and my father the King.

And now, on Leumin, I was recognized as a Princess.

Some part in the back of my mind acknowledged that my status on Earth was probably one of the main reasons the Leumian King Carlisle accepted my presence on Leumin – a Princess on Earth, a Princess on Leumin.

"Bella!"

I look up from the floor, where my eyes had been drawn to as I walked alongside Edward, lost in my thoughts. He also looks up, eyes wide as he sees the tiny form of Alice rushing through the hallway towards us.

When Alice does reach us, she latches onto my forearm and begins to drag me away from Edward – until his strong arm around my waist anchors me to his side along with a deep growl from low in his chest.

"Oh, Edward, you have to share!" Alice cries, an utterly heartbroken expression painted on her face. "I'm sure Bella has a thousand questions that you won't be able to answer. I know she does!"

Edward's growls quiet in his chest though he does pull me closer and lay a very possessive kiss on my very shocked lips – yet, I don't have it in me to be embarrassed by his show of affection.

I was beginning to understand his culture.

He releases me reluctantly, running his smooth palm down the side of my face and placing a final kiss on the edge of my jaw. A promise for later.

Alice giggles when he walks away, forcing me to draw my eyes from his retreating form – and my attention from the foreign ache in my chest.

I didn't like seeing him walk away from me. But I found comfort in the fact that I would be with him later.

In all the ways my body was begging for, too.

Alice leads me down another unfamiliar winding hallway and comes to stop in front of another sliding door, which opens after she taps the key pad several times. If I had any doubt of where she was leading me, it all erased once I entered the room.

Several swaths and rolls of fabric are organized from texture to color and everything in between on the left side of the room, an odd machine set up near the fabrics that appeared to actually make the clothes. The walls are painted contrasting, bright colors and the bed is high near the ceiling, leaving the floor bare except for the alcove couches and chairs jutting out onto the soft ground.

"The floors are heated," Alice states, sitting down in the middle of the room. "I can tell you're cold underneath that cape."

That was true. I just hadn't noticed it until now. The hallways of the palace are relatively cool and not much warmer than the weather I had just come in from.

Once I am sitting across from Alice, she leans down onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet into the air behind her. "Go ahead. Ask your questions."

As much as I want to deny the fact that I do have questions, I can't because there is one that is burning inside ever since Edward had mentioned it earlier.

"What is heat? Exactly."

Alice grins. "Heat is when Leumin females are most likely to get pregnant."

"I know that much. I meant…what does it entail?"

"Oh. Well, first, your scent will change," Alice says, inhaling deeply. "Your scent is already changing. And then, your female troubles will be void during this time along with a very increased need to mate. I believe human women experience the same thing every month – a time where they are most likely to become with child. With Leumin females, it's guaranteed."

I feel my brows furrow, more questions popping up in my mind, but I decide the best way to stay on track is to keep everything methodical in my head.

"Why does the scent change?"

"To alert your mate to the heat."

I suppose that made sense – in a purely clinical way. I move on. "What about my scent? Edward said I was a month away-"

"Edward was wrong," Alice laughs, her eyes twinkling. "Of course, he's never been mated before, so it would be easy for him to be mistaken. He wouldn't know what to look for. Or smell for. And I'm sure he thought it would take longer for you to fall into heat because of your human father. Really, Bella, you might have a week or less before your first heat begins."

"That seems really soon," I mutter, rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling. How had I never noticed that the ceilings are slightly domed, curving like the rest of the walls?

"The first heat is always the quickest," Alice sighs fondly.

My mind snaps to attention with that comment. "Do you have children?"

Alice's laugh peals through the air, high and tinkling like tiny bells. "Oh, no!"

I frown. "But I thought pregnancy was guaranteed-"

"If the male releases his seed and barbs!"

I feel my face pale. Barbs sounds particularly violent.

Alice laughs again. "I really should explain everything I say with you," she giggles. "I forget that you're only half Leumian. You look so much like a native."

But my mind is still stuck on her statement before last, so I cannot stop myself from blurting, "They can choose to come or not?"

I couldn't even imagine why they wouldn't want their release.

"No, they climax every time," Alice corrects. "It's the seed that is by choice. The seed can only be released during the female's heat because the male's body instinctively reacts to the scent. The barbs are kind of like little hooks that eject from the male's phallus when climax is reached to hold in the seed."

A frightening image fills my mind – Edward's impressive length releasing vicious, pointing hooks that threaten to shred my insides. "Wouldn't that…hurt?"

Alice laughs again, as if she is holding in a secret. "Gosh, no. I'm told it heightens pleasure."

"Alice, why haven't you had children?" I ask before I can stop myself. I realize too late how insensitive the question might be.

"Jasper and I are not ready for children. And, I firmly believe that it was not in our cards, yet. If it was, then I would already be with child and more around me because the male has no choice but to eject his seed and sperm during the very first heat induced mating."

I nod, knowing that she can see me even if I cannot see her. Everything made sense in an unfamiliar way – the entire mating process for Leumian's was really very logical.

"So, I will be pregnant soon," I conclude, folding my arms over my stomach and trying to imagine what it might feel like when my belly is swollen with a Leumian child.

I didn't find the idea repulsive.

Instead, I found myself sad at the thought that I might not be able to have children.

And sad that my mother is long gone from both planets, a slow wave of grief washing over my skin.

"Yes. But there is no pressure," Alice hurries to assure, her face popping up over mine. "Every Leumian woman is now able to become pregnant, when her time comes."

I nod, recognizing the difference between Earth and Leumian expectations – and recognizing the jolt of awareness that my getting pregnant would be easier than I imagined, despite families barren disease. And I wanted to get pregnant – which is so odd to me as I had never particularly liked children.

They are loud and sticky and they cannot adequately relay their wants and needs. Perhaps my infatuation with Edward also changed my opinion of children. Or, maybe, I wanted to have his children.

Alice's door slides open with a soft hiss and Rosalie is quick to close it behind her. She is wearing a casual dress in bright red coral, her light hair piled on top of her head and her feet bare. She turns to me with a slightly saddened expression. "I am not tied to you anymore."

I feel myself frowning, realizing the loss of forced affection towards the true Princess of Leumin. "Why did that happen?"

Rosalie shrugs, gracefully sitting down across from me beside Alice. "Edward's mating bond pushed mine out. That's fine though. Emmett was becoming jealous, though I will miss knowing if my oaf of a brother is winning your heart."

I struggle to rein in my smile. "I'll always tell you if he does."

Both Rosalie and Alice perk up. "Is he?"

Heat flames in my face and I look away. Truthfully, he'd done more than win my heart – even if I hadn't told him yet. I didn't know when I would but he made it harder to fight against blurting the words everyday.

"He has," Rosalie says knowingly, a bright smile flashing in the room.

"I wonder if it has anything to do with the sex?" Alice wonders aloud, her voice low but loud enough that Rosalie and I hear her.

Rosalie's face scrunches up in disgust. "I don't want to know."

"I don't want to say, trust me!"

Alice laughs at us and the awkward moment passes with me feeling relieve the subject was dropped as quickly as it came up.

I stay with Alice and Rosalie for another hour or so as Alice insists on trying different fabrics against my skin, claiming that she now had to make Princess worthy dresses for me.

"Could we leave the back free on most of them?" I request, fighting against feeling insecure about the vulnerable skin of my back and wanting to please Edward, who obviously loved the same skin.

"Of course. Can I ask why?"

I twist my head around, trying to see the freckles that dotted and lined my skin. "Edward thinks I have Leumian markings."

Immediately, Rosalie moves to inspect. "They are faint, but they are there. How had we not noticed this before?"

I shrug, somewhat glad that Edward was right. The design of freckles on my back made me more Leumian – and tied me to this planet in more permanent ways. My comfort on this planet was growing everyday and I wasn't foolish enough to think it didn't have anything to do with Edward.

It had everything to do with him.

Following the very detailed directions that Rosalie had given me, I attempt to find my way back to Edward's room – our room, now, I suppose. I wasn't sure it Leumian tradition would force me to have an adjacent room to Edward's, like the ancient English royalty were prone to do, but I sincerely hoped against it. I liked waking with his large, wiry arms wrapped around me, our feet tangled together.

I should have realized something was wrong – that something was about to happen – because the servants and roaming nobility were absent from the hallways. I should have been suspicious of the quiet.

But I wasn't.

Not until I spied the abandoned duster on the floor near an opening of a hallway and by then, it was too late.

Hard hands push against my back, Edward's cape thankfully shielding my skin from the rough touch. I fall hard onto my knees, my palms automatically reaching out to break my fall; I hear the harsh skid of my skin against the smooth floor before I feel the pain of my skin ripping.

"Humans," a familiar voice says harshly, the tone mocking. "So fragile. But manipulative."

My head whips around, eyes wide in shock to see King Carlisle pacing around me with a deep glower etched on his face. His cold eyes connect with mine and he laughs – its an ugly sound, deep and humorless.

"My son, the fool, thought he could deliver those scrolls without me finding out. But how would he have known where to find them?" he asks rhetorically, observing me critically when I shuffle off my bleeding knee.

The pain is minor compared to the numbed shock of experiencing this moment with the King.

"I think he knew where to find them because someone told his little half-human mate where to find them. The real question is, who told you?" King Carlisle pushes his foot against my wounded knee, his upper lip curling into a snarl when I am quiet except for the sharp gasp as his boot pushes against the open scrape. "I asked you a question, girl. Who told you where that scroll is?"

"Nobody!" I snap, pushing myself against the curve in the wall.

"Oh? You're little treasonous mother didn't tell you anything before she died? She didn't tell you all the secrets of Leumin? Or your family?" he demands, crouching down in front off me and running a cool finger down the side of my face.

When I flinch away from his touch, he growls and fists my short hair in his hand, slamming my head against the wall in front of me. I hadn't even had time to think about protecting myself – I could, I knew that.

But this is also the King.

My father-in-law on Earth.

Could I injure him to protect myself?

Subconsciously, feel the static pulsing in my head trigger the fine layer of electricity on the surface of my skin – hoping that the King would not touch my skin again but knowing that it was highly likely he would.

"Didn't she tell you that you wouldn't be able to spawn a child?" he sneers, slamming my head harder against the wall.

"Father?"

Edward's voice echoes through the hallway, panic and anger seeping through his one word. I hear the rush of his footsteps but I can't tear my eyes away from the King, who is still actively glaring at me and pulling at my hair. I'm not even sure he heard his son because he seems to be completely shocked when Edward tackles him to the ground, snarling in his father's face.

Edward's fangs are fully extended and in that moment I realize how much bigger Edward is compared to his father – but perhaps not bigger in a purely physical sense.

No, Edward's heart and mind is bigger than his father and that will be the difference between them, the difference between kings when Edward is able to rule.

My hand reaches behind my head to touch the tender area and I wince as the pulsing in my head matches the pulsing outside of my head. Edward snarls something low to his father and, just as quick as he appeared to save me, Edward has his arms wrapped firmly around my body and he is taking me away, out of sight from his father and any other hidden eyes. We are much closer to his room that I'd thought and, for a small moment, I feel proud that I had gotten so close to my destination.

That pride vanishes once the door slides closed behind us and Edward begins to inspect my body closely, his large hands covering every surface of my body. Growls escape his lips when he find the large area of ripped skin on my knee and the redness on my palms.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, pressing his mouth against the skin of my thigh. I am sitting on his alcove couch with him crouched low in front of me. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

My hand automatically presses against my tender scalp and Edward frowns at my wince.

"I cannot heal that one so easily. We must exchange blood."

And that is how Edward heals the newly forming bruises on my delicate membrane. His still-extended fangs pierce the flesh of his wrist deep enough for the slow blood to flow freely. I latch onto his wound, shivering as the richly sweet taste hits my tongue.

Lapping at it, I feel the wound on my knee tingle and begin to close and the pulsing on the back of my head begin to east. I connect eyes with Edward, stunned when I find his vibrant eyes much darker, hooded and his breathing deeper.

I suck eagerly on his wrist until it closes itself and after that, I let my tongue lick the remnants of his life force.

"I need you," he whispers lowly, one of his hands trailing up my leg from my calves to my inner thighs, his long hands teasing my skin.

I am so drawn to him, my desire flaring up to match his and my knees part easily under the pads of his fingers.

Slowly, as to not startle me, I'm sure, Edward traces his fingers across the apex of my thighs, frowning when he encounters a thin piece of cloth that is my delicate underwear. It hadn't occurred to me that he had never had to deal with this particular piece of fabric.

That much becomes apparent when he growls lowly, pushing my legs apart and ripping my moistened underwear from my body, the sound sharp in the quiet of the room.

He inhales greedily.

I shudder.

Edward's fingers return to where he had left off, tracing the sensitive skin between my legs, his fingers becoming wet with my arousal, his fangs becoming longer still.

He pushes his face into the space between my thighs, his tongue lapping at my core without hesitation – he does not give me a chance to acclimate to this intimate touch so I remain exposed and sensitive the entire time. My legs tremble around his head, fighting between the need to anchor him to my body and the need to move from his relentless touch.

His fingers push up against the hood of my sex, exposing my clit to his puffing breath and probing tongue. It only takes several passes of his mouth before I am shuddering against him, my hips lifting away from his mouth as pleasure mingles with pain from the sensitivity.

But Edward puts his hands on my hips and pulls me closer again, his tongue continuing the maddening pattern he'd created before. I feel my eyes tearing from the intensity as I come again, calling out his name in shock when he continues to lap at the swollen skin of my core.

Repeatedly he brings me pleasure, each time more intense than the last until one touch of his tongue is enough to push me over the edge. It is only then that Edward pushes our clothing off and onto the floor and carries my limp body to the bed.

I am slick and swollen and ready for him when he pushes his large length into me; he groans once he is buried to the hilt, pulsing inside of me. I hiss as he thrusts gently, my noise turning into a moan when he brushes against something deep inside of me.

I'd lost track of how many times my body had come but the way Edward was constantly pressed against me, his pelvic bone pressed tightly to mine, kept me on a precarious edge. I lost my sense of time during his slow thrusts, balancing between release and begging for release until, suddenly, his pace increased and I was coming violently, squeezing around him to the sound of his roaring.

Panting, he rests his weight on me for a moment, tenderly kissing my face while my eyes blink slowly up at him.

Edward pulls out of me and disappears for a moment, only to come back to press a cool cloth against my sex, gently cleaning me,

I sigh, exhausted and strung out from so many orgasms, when he pulls me against his chest and pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "My mate," he murmurs.

I fall into a comfortable sleep, feeling safe and utterly loved – though neither of us had admitted to that particular feeling before.

But my peace does not last for long enough.

My dreams haunt me for a second night, my father's manic voice whispering in my ears. And the King's haunting words, the crazed look in his eyes as he slammed me against the wall, pulling so harshly at my hair that I was sure the follicles would rip from my scalp.

And a steady pain in my lower stomach.

A pain that grows stronger as my dreams fade from my consciousness and I wake to a dark room with Edward's strong arms caging me to his body.

I gasp quietly as a sharp pain somewhere between a cramp and something much more fine, a drawn out pricking, echoes in my lower abdomen.

I close my eyes, trying to ignore the thoughts that something bad was happening to me, and snuggled closer into Edward's embrace.

And as I do, I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs and the sensation of wet sheets beneath my body.

And as I notice that, a deeper, sharper pain claws through from under my belly button to my core.

I cry out.

Edward bolts up, the sheets whipping up from his hurried motion exposing the lower halves of our bodies.

And the dark pool of blood underneath me.

"Bella!"

A/N: alright ladies and gents! another chapter, another week - which, i'm claiming this as a Thursday post even though its about an hour and half after Thursday. call it a technicality. i do.

a peek into my personal life - my new semester just started and i'm taking an extra class this semester (my very last semester of highschool!) along with those dreadful SAT and ACT tests and other important tests. translation? i'm going to be very very busy. that's not to say that i won't continue writing - i will. but updates will be sporadic. you've been warned!

another topic is this review i got that i'd like to share:

ScarlettN0123:I have to say I really like alien fics but I hate how almost every twilight story has a less than pretty Bella. Now I do realize that Bella in the movies is not what I would consider pretty, nor any guy Ive ever heard talk about her all agree shes plain, has a body of a 12 yr old boy and a selfish personality in both the books and movies but I really enjoy when some fanfics decide to give Edward a break and not only make her pretty but witty and not so selfish. Im so bitter that I refuse to watch anymore twilight movies since Kristen is not only ugly but a horrible actress and it makes me sick to see her get Edward. It sucks that you made her so plain too. In real life guys do not find girls like her attractive unless she has some kind of awesome personality which she just doesnt. Heres to hoping your next story may have a bella that resembles a Leighton Meester or Nina Dobrev. If Edward is going to be so cute and talented he deserves a woman who is in the same class as him. By the way those Bella lovers who love to write her as a plain jain if u are making her pale atleast let her wear some damn make up cause even though fanfiction loves to write about pale is beauty it just isnt. Creamy skin belongs to women like Leighton Meester never ever will Kristen stewart have what anyone would call nice skin. And before anyone comments about how looks arent everything Bella basically only likes Edward at first because of his looks. Its in our dna to notice looks first. So for the love of all thats holy will someone please write a sexy, curvy, make up wearing Bella?

now, this review truly irked me for several reasons - one, it was a left on the very first chapter, two, this person took the cowards way out and decided to leave it without signing on and three, she choose me to have to suffer through her insecure ramblings.

i love reviews. i love constructive reviews even more. this was neither. it was rude and sarcastic and, really, if she has such a problem with canon Bella's...A, why doesn't she write her own story and B, why is she reading Twilight? personally, i think my Bella is very beautiful - just in a different way. she is, after all, half alien. this reviewer would never know it, though, because she chose to judge from the first chapter - and then judged the wrong thing! *heavy sigh* i know. i'm ranting. i'm sorry but...just UGH!

anyway, onto other reviews that were awesome!

Nissa-Cullen: answers are sure to come - Renee, Charlie, everything!

ngosa95: thank you so much for you're enthusiasm! :)

mommyof3boys: i think...i answered your question ;)

Twilight Rocker 12: unfortunately, fanfic cut off the rest of you're review!

ClancyJane: the "gift" from Charlie was just that, a gift. it had no other meaning. he was just trying to sweeten her up!

james3142: Carlisle doesn't learn! i love that you call me Doll - that's kind of really awesome!

telaviv: more interaction to come!

YesMyRealNameIsBella: ahhh your inquires have so much insight!

and shout out to the first review of the last chapter, tiffanyashm, thanks for reading!

phew. long authors note! you can add me on Facebook - link is on my profile under the "Homepage" blue word thingy. just click and you're there! also, if anyone was wondering what i imagine my Bella to look like - in detail - Google "Rooney Mara Vogue".

as always, be brutally honest (and i feel i should add constructive).

~cupcakeriot