I die a tortured death and am reborn in the flames of hell, and it continues to happen over and over and over again.

My eyes are screwed shut, and my body arches and twists against the pain, even as moving only the slightest amount makes it so, so much worse.

The world is nothing but black and red. The searing agony a thousand times more severe than when James' venom had flown briefly into my veins. This is all-consuming, all encompassing. Hurting from the roots of my hair to my toenails. I can feel every inch of my skin charring, feel it sliced apart by razors.

Unceasing. I scream helplessly, crying out meaningless sounds. Trying to convey that I need this to end. I need someone to end me.

One infinite moment of unrelenting pain.

Seconds; days; eons. Time stands still. Well past the point at which I can endure anymore, I cry and weep and scream and beg for it to be over.

Gradually, so slowly that at first I doubt my sanity, I start to sense the smallest changes. When my fingers clutch and tear at what's beneath me, suddenly I can still them. Sheets? A bed? Where am I?A tiny amount of strength returns. A gradual fraction of control.

The sound of my heart rises up and thunders in my ears. I'm able to pay attention to it for the first time, to think of something other than just the scorching pain. My heart sounds frantic; too swift. Uneven. As if I've been running as fast as I can. Running from a death I have utterly failed to escape.

Then I can start to separate touches. A hand on my wrist; an attempt at a soothing sweep across my brow. Nothing soothes. There is no cooling and no respite from the inferno burning through my limbs, melting my bones.

I can start to distinguish sounds. Over the unnatural thump of my pulse, voices start to emerge.

"It's nearly over. You need to go."

"I don't know..."

"Look, we think the scent is a strong enough deterrent, but we can't know for sure. She's going to be ravenous. Any beating heart in a nearby radius is at risk."

"Jake, come on. We can test this theory later when she's...later, okay man?"

Familiar. Not familiar. Close. A thousand miles away. My ears play tricks on me.

"Bella? Can you hear me?"

I want to answer this voice, but to open my mouth again is impossible. I am the inside of a volcano. I am the center of a forge.

"It won't be long now. God, Edward. Look at how beautiful she is!"

"How can you..."

"The wolves. When they get far enough away it starts to clear."

I can't comprehend why I am anything more than a smoldering pile of ash. Feeling is starting to return to my limbs, no longer lying like useless dead logs. I can separate out voices; the sound of movement. Close. Far away. My perception is skewed.

"She's really going to be okay..." he says, finally, with a relieved sigh.

I don't believe the words, but I desperately want to believe that it is Edward who speaks them. Here. At my side.

The pain inside me starts to change and recede, drawing back from the edges of my consciousness. Relinquishing its grip over every facet of thought. But as it pulls in toward my core it starts to concentrate, flaming and flaring in my chest. My heart begins to beat even faster. The pain centers itself there, a torch that burns brighter with each erratic pulse. The noise becomes impossibly loud. The agony drowns out everything. My back arches at the crescendo. I try to scream and can't.

One final staccato beat. I collapse back to the ground. Silence.

I open my eyes.

"Bella." His voice is a benediction. My name leaves his lips like a song. His palm against my cheek, no longer icy and hard. It's really him. So much more flawless, more stunning, than my frail human sight ever had the capacity to understand. Edward. My Edward.

A tidal wave of sensations threatens to overwhelm me as I try to catalog my surroundings. I'm lying on a daybed in the Cullen's home. Bright afternoon sunlight is pouring in through the glass wall, causing the dust motes to dance and shimmer. I can see every one. Someone has dressed me. Jeans that aren't mine. An impossibly soft cashmere sweater that I think is Alice's. I can feel every point of contact between the fabric and my skin, all at once. I blink rapidly. Alice and Edward are sitting on either side of me. Around the room, watching me with caution and hope and curiosity and wonder: Esme, Carlisle, and Eleazar. Elsewhere in the house I can hear Carmen conferring with a woman whose voice I don't recognize. Garrett is outside on the back lawn speaking with yet another stranger. Jasper sits in the corner, his expression intense and focused entirely on me, a scarlet-eyed girl crouching beside him.

Panic flares within me. I look around, try to hear. Try to count.

"Where...?" My voice is like the tinkling of crystal. Light, musical. I'm so surprised by the sound of it I can't finish the question.

"Shh, everything's okay," Alice assures me, giving my hand a squeeze. "Every one is okay."

My eyes dart around the room for confirmation.

"Emmett and Rose are covering our tracks in the forest," she clarifies. "The fight left a lot of damage. They're dismantling the remains of the bonfires, crushing up broken trees and rocks and scattering them. Peter and Charlotte left this morning. They needed to go further afield to hunt."

My human memory is hazy and vague, but something tugs at the back of my mind. "Seth! Is he..."

"Injured, but recovering well," Carlisle says from across the room. "Jacob and Sam only left here shortly before you awoke. The pack is fine." He doesn't raise his voice, but I can hear him as clearly as if he had just whispered it directly into my ear. The lack of perspective is disorienting. I realize that while the pain has disappeared entirely, a new, uncomfortable burn has started up in my throat.

I look back at Edward. His face is guarded, unsure. I have a thousand things I want to say to him, and not a single word will come out. His dark green shirt and jeans are from before, but nothing about him seems the same.

"I have so much to ask your forgiveness for," he says, the bright light of his countenance clouding over with guilt.

I shake my head, sitting up. The movement is unexpectedly swift. Before I've even thought about it, I'm upright. It's too much. Too soon. I am so flooded with sensation, with feelings and sounds, and color like I've never seen. Overcome that he is here and alive and safe. I can't think about his need for forgiveness. It's too difficult to process the fact that I can feel every thread of the cotton sheet beneath my fingertips. To wrap my mind around the insistent tug of my parched mouth.

"Don't," I whisper, and his face falls. "Not now. Not...here."

I look over at Jasper. My new eyes take in the scars that ravage his neck and jaw. It is so hard to believe that he could have survived so many sets of teeth ripping into his throat.
How many vampires had tried to kill Jasper? Hundreds? Thousands? How many of those scars are new? "The army?"

"Dead, other than Bree here. She's...changing her ways." His mouth twists a little in a wry grin. The brunette beside him beams, her red eyes shockingly bright. I feel self-conscious. Mine must look the same way; wholly out of place among the golden-eyed Cullens. I swallow hard to clear my ashen throat. It doesn't help.

"It's over, Bella," Alice promises, giving me a wide smile. "The Volturi are gone. Aro and Marcus are dead. They won't be back."

Edward is free?

He runs a hand through his hair, a thousand different shades of bronze, the sunlight bursting off his pale skin. Hesitating, he eventually takes my hand in both of his. I am shocked that our skin temperatures are now the same. His touch is electric. "How are you feeling?"

I realize that my transformation has done nothing to open up my mind to him. I consider his question. The thirst starts to burns through me like a low-grade fever. Scratchy; insistent. I swallow repeatedly hoping for it to ease, but nothing happens.

"It's...uncomfortable, but...manageable. For now."

Jasper lets out a breath. I wonder how much effort he has to exert to keep my emotions in check.

"There are things we need to decide," Esme says gently. "We'll need to take you away from here, for quite a long time. We need to know whether you'd rather your father think that you died in the forest. A camping accident, maybe an animal attack." She doesn't even flinch at the irony.

"This has got to be your choice, Bella," Edward insists. "No one is making it for you." Unspoken is the promise that he won't ever try to do so again. "If you want to see Charlie in the future, we'll find a way. We'll make it work."

I try to imagine that. What could possibly account for being unable to be near him for the next few months or years? Some sort of unexplained contagious illness? I have no doubt that Carlisle could arrange that. Airlift me to a medical facility in Switzerland, only able to talk to Charlie over Skype. And what would the future hold? Never being able to share a meal with him. Wearing stage makeup to appear older; contacts to disguise my eyes. And for how long before the reality made it impossible? Before I would really have to say good-bye forever.

Edward traces slow circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. His expression is searching and intense. "You don't have to make up your mind right now," he murmurs. "We have a little time."

Jasper disagrees. "Not a lot of time. Bella needs to hunt, and we need to take her away from here, regardless of what she wants to do. We should have moved her while she was changing. We were due back from the camping trip first thing this morning. You don't think Charlie's going to come over here soon and find out why she's not home?"

The fire in my throat rages at the mention of hunting, even as I shudder a little at the thought.

Edward frowns, about to object to Jasper pressuring me, but I stop him by squeezing his hand. "It's okay. I've made my decision."

I look to Alice, whose gaze comes back into focus after a moment. Edward cheats instantly, his expression concerned.

"Alice..." I press.

"Sorry. It's just. I'm not sure how much to tell you. You know none of this is set in stone."

"Please."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Bella. The next few months will be very hard on him. He's devastated that he has no body to bury. He spends a lot of time out there looking for you."

Sorrow wells up deeply inside me, my overwrought emotions threatening to overtake me.

"But, the Quileute look after him. They help him search for you; eventually convince him to stop. Encourage him to move on..." She trails off, looking at Edward for reassurance. He shrugs slightly.

"Alice!" I plead.

She sighs. "He remarries, Bella. I wasn't sure if you'd want to know that. But he remarries, and though he misses you all the time, he finds a kind of happiness. Your mother too, in her own way."

I drop Edward's hand and wrap my arms around Alice in a tight hug. "Thank you."

She wriggles a little, and lets out a tiny, "Ouch!" causing me to release her instantly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think..."

"It's okay," she smiles. "You're just a lot stronger than me right now."

I marvel at the thought.

"So, you're okay with this?" Edward asks softly. "This is what you want?"

"I hate that he'll be hurting, but really I can't avoid that whatever I do. I just think this is better. Everything else is too risky. Charlie's a cop. He's suspicious of everything and everyone." I think about the Volturi, unable to believe that much will change, even with two of them dead. "I don't want him in any danger because of me."

Eleazar and Carlisle walk over to join us.

"We've been discussing what we do next. Now that Bella has made up her mind, we should get moving. Carmen and Eleazar have suggested you join them in Denali."

"Irina wants very much to have the opportunity to make amends," Eleazar says to Edward. My mind races. All I can recall is that the sisters wouldn't come when we needed them. Now it seems there is more to it than that. "Extending our hospitality to you is important to her." Edward nods.

"We will join you when an appropriate amount of time has passed," Carlisle continues. "Esme will be too heartbroken after Bella's 'accident' to remain long in Forks."

Eleazar crouches at the foot of the daybed, staring at me closely. I feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Interesting," he murmurs finally, getting back to his feet.

Edward looks up at him in surprise. "What did you just call her?"

"A shield, I think. She's blocking me now, so I can't be sure."

I stare at Eleazar, my brows furrowing in confusion. Shield? What does he mean by blocking?

"A shield?" Edward repeats, also bewildered.

"Come now, Edward! If I can't get a read on her, I doubt you can, either. Can you hear her thoughts right now?"

"No," Edward murmurs. "But I've never been able to do that. Even when she was...human."

"Never?" Eleazar blinks. "Interesting. That would indicate a rather powerful latent talent, if it was manifesting so clearly even before the transformation. I can't feel a way through her shield to get a sense of it at all." The look he gives Edward now is almost exasperated. "And apparently completely unaware of what she's doing. Totally unconscious. How ironic. Aro sent me all over the world searching for such anomalies, and she only comes into her gift after his death." Eleazar shakes his head in disbelief.

I shudder at the mention of Aro's name. "What are you talking about? What does that mean?"

Eleazar examines me again. "I suppose we were overly formal about it in the Guard. In truth, categorizing talents is a subjective, haphazard business; every talent is unique, never exactly the same thing twice. But you, Bella, are fairly easy to classify. Talents that are purely defensive, that
protect some aspect of the bearer, are always called shields."

It takes me a few seconds, despite how quickly my new brain works, to think about what he means. "Aro couldn't hear me, though I was human when we met. Jane tried to hurt me, but she couldn't."

Eleazar's eyes widen. "Powerful, indeed."

It's a satisfying feeling, to have some sort of explanation for my differences. To not feel out of place among these people.

Carmen comes into the room with another striking woman. Her eyes are gold, and her hair almost silver, it is so pale. Carmen kisses both of my cheeks, before stepping back. "Bella, this is Irina."

Irina's expression is anxious, almost downcast. She is unfathomably beautiful, even among the women in this room. She says nothing.

Carmen unfolds a map on the coffee table, and indicates a trail north to Edward. "Take Bella to hunt, and we will meet you somewhere near here. If you head this way, you will stay far from any settlements. It should put you at the lowest risk."

It takes me a second to realize what she is saying. Edward needs to keep me away from humanity. I am now the threat. I look up at Esme and Carlisle. I hate that once again I am about to be the cause of separation in the family. That after so long on his own in Italy, Edward must once again leave them.

"Maybe you should stay," I whisper to him. "I could go with Carmen and Eleazar." He looks aghast; heartbreak washing over his features, his shoulders slumping a little in defeat. "No, no. I mean...I thought...maybe you wouldn't want to be separated from your family again so soon," I rush to explain.

Hope lights his eyes. "Bella, I don't want to be separated from you again so soon."

His words fill all the empty spaces within me.

He gives Alice a questioning look, tracing the route on the map again with his finger.

"Oh, damn it!" she curses, abruptly. "Not now."

I hear it just before I sense the tension roll out among the assembled vampires. Edward's hand suddenly tightens on my wrist. A low, wet sound. The heavy thudding of heartbeats. Jasper hisses, getting to his feet and stalking to the front door. He looks at Edward, who gives him a sharp nod, before wrenching it open. Instantly, the scent hits me. Something tangy, and irresistible. Delicious. Something I need to have.