Current Day

The small tavern appeared dark to the outside, the loud music and many motorcycles the only indication of patrons present. Tinted windows mirrored the opposite side of the street in the reflection, preventing even her perfect vampire vision from peeking inside.

Rose glanced at herself in the window, smoothing down the sleek black skirt of her dress. The light tan cardigan she wore obscured the low-cut bodice from view. If human, she would have been sweltering under the protective layer.

"Hot librarian," she muttered to her reflection before opening the door. Better than a walking disco ball.

The space looked immensely different from the last time Rose visited, having transformed numerous times over seventy years. She was always eager to see what would come next, though she had never expected a biker bar.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark space as she removed her sunglasses and peered around the room. Numerous patrons turned to look up at her, the only person devoid of blue jeans, leather, and patches. Most had tattoos and piercings as well.

She slowly scanned the crowd to her left and spotted a giant of a man alone in the darkest corner near the jukebox. Smirking, he removed his hat and let his long black hair fall down his back. Not for the first time, she silently noted the uncanny resemblance to a loud-mouthed wolf she knew.

Rosalie took a deep breath and attempted to stay calm as she drifted to his table.

"Hello, stranger." The gruffness of his voice instantly took her back, leaving her trembling as he stood to embrace her.

Summer 1933

"Home sweet home," Rose murmured as she climbed out of Carlisle's Cadillac in front of their new home. The large Victorian house seemed out of place this far out in the forest.

This very wet forest. The prospect of living so far from any bustling town or society column would appall her mother. It was a startlingly unfamiliar environment from what Rosalie knew.

"It is only necessary for a short while," Edward snipped as he hefted luggage from the trunk.

Listening to her thoughts was nothing new, though his snapping retorts to most of them were becoming increasingly commonplace. In either case, the habit frequently roused her temper.

He continued, "Just until you are used to your strengths and can control your thirst around humans."

Rose looked up and caught Esme shooting Carlisle a worried glance.

She can hear the condescension in Edward's voice as well, then? Rose rolled her eyes and reached for her suitcases. I am aware of why we are here, Edward. I'm not obligated to enjoy it. She charged up the wide front steps and into the house.

From the upstairs balcony, Esme said, "Rosalie, the top floor bedroom on the left belongs to Edward. The front right bedroom on the second floor is Carlisle's and mine. You're welcome to choose from any of the others."

"Thank you, Esme."

Rosalie immediately began exploring the house, looking for the space she would make her own. When she opened what she assumed was a pantry door, she discovered a short hallway leading to another large, rectangular bedroom. An enormous fireplace stood in the center of one outer wall. A door led outside to the wrap-around porch on her left. The three outlying walls bore evenly-spaced windows shrouded in dark draperies. Another doorway on the far right end of the inside wall led to a powder room with a massive clawfoot bathtub.

It was the tub that decided it for her.

Rose immediately opened the heavy draperies and gasped. The room became bright despite the surrounding forest. The view, even from the lowest point of the house, was magnificent.

Considering the top floor would be Edward's new brooding place, Rose decided that this room was likely the furthest point away from him in the house. With how often they quarreled lately, keeping her distance seemed to be for the best.

"This is an excellent room choice," Carlisle said, leaning casually in her doorway.

"Why do you and Esme not occupy this room? It's lovely."

"We considered it. We won't have much use for the kitchen in this house. That allows this room a little more privacy than some others. Esme prefers having the balcony access.".

"I should have guessed."

Edward came to the door toting her large hope chest. He set it down on the floor at the end of the bed and left without a word.

"He's infuriating," she muttered, turning toward Carlisle. He chuckled, his golden eyes entrancing, capturing hers. She calmed as she smiled back, unable to help it.

Rosalie suspected Carlisle's hospitable nature and ability to put others at ease was his particular vampiric gift. His appearance often eased his patients before he could utter a single word. Rose witnessed the phenomenon firsthand at Vera's side the night she gave birth to Henry. It was no secret that women of all ages found Carlisle Cullen attractive. The young doctor was the talk of the town when The Cullens first arrived in Rochester. Tall and firm, Carlisle was fashionably dressed, polite, and wore a hint of a smile on his face at all times.

Forever frozen at twenty-three, a strenuous life with a tyrannical father had aged him slightly, leaving faint traces of crow's feet in the corners of his eyes and mouth. Having smoothed over with immortal beauty, the remnants of frown lines on his forehead were too faint for humans to see. Carlisle could pass as old as thirty when the need arose. It was rare to see Carlisle's chin-length blonde hair disheveled or witness behavior anything less than charming. In moments of genuine joy, when laughter filled his face, he appeared every bit the twenty-three-year-old he should have been when he was alive.

It was a shame he turned with a clean-shaven face, Rosalie thought. She could easily picture him with facial hair. Carlisle was unlike any man Rose had ever met, nor doubted she ever would again. Esme was a fortunate woman to be his mate. Centuries older than his wife, he stared at the Caramel-haired beauty as though she was the most-fascinating creature to exist.

Though the traditional family dynamic had developed naturally, there was no way anyone would believe it if Rose referred to Carlisle as her father. So, for now, he and Esme were posing as an orphaned Rosalie's older brother and sister-in-law.

Edward had lived as Carlisle's adopted son, brother, or apprentice for over a decade. Rose could not understand how Carlisle had suffered his young companion's mood swings for so long without going mad.

"Hopefully, you two will become accustomed to each other soon enough,"

"We will certainly have enough time to do so." Rose pulled down the dust cloths covering the wardrobe and scowled at the dust as it fell, glittering in the sunlight. A second later, she was in awe of the mirrored wardrobe doors delicately etched with painted vines.

"This is lovely."

"An excellent choice, as I said." Carlisle winked at her before leaving the room.

Rose smiled, shaking her head as she listened to his retreating footsteps. She slowly turned to the mirror and balked as she took in her reflection. Weeks after her transformation, her image was still startling. Once honey-blonde hair now carried a golden sheen. Her sun-kissed complexion paled and became flawless as all her scars and freckles disappeared. Once-lavender eyes were now the honey color her human hair had been as long as she remained well-fed. Natural curves were emphasized, leaving her figure both fuller and firmer while retaining the hourglass shape she had worked so hard to maintain as a human. She had always been proud of her appearance, but her human portrait was no comparison.

It was difficult to curb her vanity, and she struggled with the jealousy that overshadowed her emotions when she felt insignificant beside another. Rosalie's mother engrained the importance of her physical appeal into her mind like a mantra, hoping it would be enough to earn a rich husband one day. With that tutelage came frequent praises and overwhelming pride that Rosalie was forced to swallow in her last human moments.

"What would you think now, Mother?" As a Cullen, she now belonged to an incredibly wealthy family too. At least Mother's wishes were fulfilled.

Rose loathed the bitterness that lingered from the loss of her human hopes. All she wanted was a husband who loved her and a house full of children. Had those been such difficult things to ask for out of life? They seemed so easily achievable for other women she knew.

Vera had found her happiness well enough. Rose's best friend during her human life married young and had a baby within the year. She was blissfully happy. Rose could not help but feel envious of her friend's simple life, surrounded by love and in love.

While Rose wanted to blame Carlisle for changing her, at first, she knew his intentions had only been to save her. Regardless of how she detested her new existence, she could not help but care for Carlisle and Esme. They had shown her nothing except kindness in this new life. Carlisle gave her a new existence when she could have been rotting inside the earth by now.

When her anger at Carlisle subsided, Rose tried to blame herself for her fate. It took much placating and reassurances for the Cullen clan to convince her otherwise.

"No man has the right to take possession of your body in such a way," Emse told her. "It does not matter where you were, what time it was, how you behaved or dressed. Your body belongs to you, alone." After hearing about Esme's first husband and the abuse she suffered for years, Rosalie took Esme's declarations to heart. Neither woman would ever stand idly by and watch another be abused again.

Rose took comfort in knowing that Royce would never achieve his dreams too. He was rotting in the ground, along with every man that had violated her. She felt forever indebted to Carlisle and Edward for helping her dispose of them. The only thing that Rose wanted more than revenge for her pain was the reassurance that they would never hurt another woman in such a way again. To her relief, her newfound family agreed and schemed to help her destroy them.

Covering up Rosalie's disappearance had been difficult for the Cullens. It took weeks for Rose to control her thirst long enough to venture near town. Once she learned to abstain somewhat, she quickly gained control. Sneaking away from her pseudo-family, she began stalking her former fiance's every move in disguise. Eventually, Royce unknowingly helped her identify every man involved with her assault.

Each man was dispatched without a drop of blood being spilled, although a few bones were broken. Rose was proud that she could boast of having never tasted human blood. She promised herself she never would and fully intended to keep it. Being a monster of blood-drinking nature was irrelevant. It didn't mean she had to behave like one. She still had free will.

Unfortunately, Royce's death uncovered many of his unsavory dealings and connections. Rosalie soon learned she was not his only victim, and he had sired bastards throughout the county. The scandalous revelations brought Rosalie's continued missing status to public light. Many were convinced she got cold feet and ran away from the pressure of their impending wedding. Those who knew the darker side of Royce King accused him of foul play. Search parties were formed to try and recover her body from the surrounding lakes and forests. It seemed none of her loved ones had hopes of finding her alive.

The public pointed fingers in many places, though none remotely suspected the involvement of their beloved small-town doctor. The only reason Carlisle happened upon her body in the snow was due to the close vicinity to Vera's home. Rosalie spoke to him briefly while he examed Henry before she left. The good doctor was the last person to tell her goodnight. It was one of the few perfect human memories she retained. Carlisle recognized her scent mixed with blood almost as soon as he left the house.

Because it was only a matter of time before someone saw her, Carlisle believed it best for them to leave the area. He purchased the house near Forks fully furnished, hoping the secluded area would allow Rose to hunt freely with fewer risks. He and Esme traveled ahead to inspect their new home, leaving Rosalie in Edward's care. The couple hoped the two would bond in their absence. Instead, Edward nearly drove her mad with his constant attention and condescension.

While they were gone, Rose carefully stole into her childhood home while her human family was headed to church. She raced through the house for the items she wanted, grabbed her hope chest, and fled. It had been a risk, leaving Edward furious. He claimed that the missing personal items would reveal to her family that she was still alive, as no thief would have taken her belongings alone. He feared her father might resume the search for her because of it.

As selfish as it may have been, Rose wanted her family to believe she was alive and well somewhere. Was it not better than believing her dead? Edward told her that false hope was unkind. Knowing her mother would dwindle with grief seemed much more unkind.

Edward remained short with her since the incident, often speaking to her as if she were only a child and without self-control. She became increasingly frustrated with his mood swings, wondering why she had found him attractive when the two had first met. Sometimes he let a glimpse of his more carefree self show, but those moments were few.

Rose knew that Carlisle and Esme still held onto the hope that Rose and Edward might become lovers once they knew each other better. For Rose, romance was the farthest thing from her mind. She could barely tolerate the thought of a man's touch since the brutal assault she had suffered. More than anything, Rose hated that her body remained cold. She lay half-naked, broken, and bleeding on the ground, nearly hypothermic when Carlisle found her. Rose remained covered in sweat and seed while transforming, making her attackers a part of her body forever. She hated that no matter how hot the water she bathed in or how deeply she submerged herself, it was never enough to feel as clean or warm as she craved.

Nothing but time in her future, Rose paced herself to fill the passing hours. Putting away her negative thoughts, Rose cleaned and rearranged the room as she wanted. When finished, Rose started on the lower portion of the house, removing more furniture coverings and polishing items until her shimmery reflection shone on their surfaces. Her hands reeked of soap, lemons, and the wax she had used on the rich wooden furniture.

By the time the sun went down, Rose wanted a bath. More than that, she was thirsty. She desperately needed time alone where her every thought was not being overheard. She rushed out the front door and into the woods, eager to escape the confines of the house. Rosalie yanked the pins from her hair as she ran, letting it flow freely behind her, tangling and picking up bits of nature along the way.

Soon, Rose came across a few deer in a small clearing. She caught one and drained it within a few seconds, relishing the warmth as it soothed the ache in her throat.

As she made her way north, Rose came upon a deep pool tucked around the curve of a creek. The water ran clear, the rocks underneath visible, shining in the moonlight. Despite the expected cold, she could not resist the urge to step in. She lifted her skirt and walked in carefully, cautious of the temperature rather than the sharp rocks underneath her impenetrable flesh.

Rose chuckled with relief at the comfortable temperature and stepped back out to undress. Naked, she walked toward the deepest spot and sunk into the water. Content, she floated there on her back with her eyes closed. Rose focused on the sounds of the creek, silently willing her frustrations away.

Though muffled by the flowing water, the cracking of a twig nearby caught her attention. Rose crouched down, submerging herself entirely until recalling how clear the water had been from the creek side. She swam toward where she could resume her crouched position with her head out of the water. Rose gasped in surprise as she spotted a human leaning against a tree not ten paces from her. A short black hat sat crookedly over his long dark hair. His shirt was handmade and coarsely woven, hanging long and loose over his dark trousers. He stared at Rose in wide-eyed disbelief.

Who was this man? Had she gone too far from the new property? Perhaps she was on sovereign land, she thought with embarrassment. Carlisle had warned about a nearby reservation and respecting their property lines. Rose had not expected to come across anyone so far out in the forest alone.

Trembling visibly, he called out, "Why are you here?" His voice was deep and rough, though he could not have been over twenty. While his form was very tall and fit, his face still had a soft, round, innocent appeal. His eyes, large and deep brown, narrowed at her, and his full lips gaped in disbelief.

Rosalie said, "I only intended to swim for a moment. If you turn your back, I will dress and leave."

Glancing around cautiously, he asked, "Are you lost?" Moonlight shone off his blue-black hair as the wind hit his back, leaving the thick strands fluttering around his neck and shoulders.

She looked around at her surroundings, unable to hide her embarrassment as she tried to think of an excuse and failed. "I can find my way back," she answered, still crouched in the water. Too many men had seen her naked without permission, and she wasn't about to add to that number.

"There is not a house nearby for miles," he said, still facing her.

Though he sounded concerned, Rose couldn't help but wonder if his trembling words were a threat. Had she still been human, she would have been frightened. Unfortunately for anyone foolish enough to try, little could scare Rose now. She was dead and had died in a most humiliating, degrading way. Outside of protecting Carlisle, she had nothing to lose. Despite that, the man's bold ogling was maddening, and she was not about to walk around naked in front of him.

"That is of no importance," she said impatiently, "Please at least turn your back so I can dress and leave."

He glanced down at her clothing on the creek bank. "You have no shoes?"

She glared at him silently, becoming further irritated by the second. He scoffed and slowly turned his back to her. Rose rushed from the water and dressed quickly. Before he could turn to face her again, she ran.

"Where are you going?"

Rosalie kept to a human pace until she could dart behind something large enough to hide her before fleeing his sight entirely. The last thing she needed was for him to suspect she was anything but human.

Staying hidden is why we moved, and I almost exposed myself on the first evening here. Spotting a boulder jutting out from the hillside with just enough space under its overhang to conceal herself, Rosalie darted under it and held her breath. The man stopped a few paces from the steep incline, quietly searching for any sign of her. She carefully peeked out from under the stone to watch him scan his surroundings.

Suddenly, footsteps pounded behind him, revealing another young male with similar, broad features and dress. "Ephriam!"

"Shhh," the first man warned, as the other stopped walking and held still. There was silence for a moment as they listened to the silent forest.

The second man whispered, "What do you search for, Ephriam?"

Ephriam waved one arm at him in aggravation and whispered, "Did you not see her? The pale woman I was following? Barefoot, great gams, and long blonde hair. She had the strangest golden-colored eyes I'd ever seen. Like honey."

"A barefoot white woman? Out here alone?" The second man sighed, slapping Ephriam on the shoulder. "You imagine things, my friend. You need some sleep. We will catch nothing tonight. We should head back and start again in the morning."

Perhaps the deer she had killed earlier was the one they were looking for, she thought. It seemed such a waste to allow the meat to rot in the ground when it was otherwise usable and needed. Rose watched and waited as the two men turned their backs and walked away. Once she was sure they were far enough out of sight, she fled.

When she returned to the house, she found Edward waiting, pacing furiously. Rushing to block her path, he snapped, "Where have you been?

"Hunting." She rolled her eyes and let Edward see the memory of the deer before shoving past him to head for her room.

The door leading to the porch in my bedroom will come in handy. To avoid Edward's needling, if nothing else. She would be sure to use it from then on.

"You cannot just take off like that!"

Rose spun on him and hissed, "Are you my husband? Are you my father? We moved here so that I could hunt freely. I will be damned if you think you get to be my prison warden, Edward." She turned her back to walk away, and he reached out to grab her arm.

Rose glared up at him and jerked her arm from his grip. "Do that again, and I will rip your arm off to beat you with it."

Edward gaped at her in surprise. Rosalie did not use curse words, nor was she prone to violence. Between Edward's snappishness throughout the day and the human who had ruined her first peaceful moment in weeks, Rose felt more frustrated than ever. She could not control her thoughts of the stranger, unconsciously comparing his dark contrast to Edward's blatantly Irish heritage.

He scowled and snapped, "Where is the human, Rose?"

"In the woods, I am assuming. He was entirely unharmed when I left. I got out of sight and ran away. I highly doubt I'll ever see him again."

"Let's hope not." He turned to stomp away from her.

"You are lucky my mother taught me better," she grumbled after him and hurried toward her room.

The audacity of him. Edward's constant criticism was smothering. It is ridiculous to be viewed as untrustworthy because you tried to keep what was rightfully yours. To be considered a danger to other humans when you only wish to protect others from what happened to you. Why are women always blamed for lecherous men who could not control their impulses and get treated as if we were the dangerous ones when our minds break from the pressure?

"I know you know I can hear everything you have just thought," Edward said from her doorway.

She spun to face him. Don't you knock?

The corner of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smile before he schooled his features. "Rose, I do not blame you for what happened to you. I never have, nor would I. I killed men like Royce for less long before we ever met. I've seen inside minds so heinous that it makes me grateful I no longer dream. Believe it or not, I worry for your safety."

"You worry too much," Rose whispered. The man outside her bedroom door would forever appear as the seventeen-year-old boy he had been when Carlisle changed him. However, Edward's mind belonged to a thirty-two-year-old consciousness, and his tone left Rose feeling chastised.

"I only wish for you to be cautious. You do not know whose land you were on, who that man was, or if he will try to seek you out now."

"I am not worried about that," Rose said. "I went for a swim in a peaceful spot that I found. If I do not return, there should not be a problem."

"Let us hope you are right," he said and nodded.

Rose could almost swear that she detected a hint of envy in his voice and wondered what it meant.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward again, and he teased, "Careful with the swearing." Edward pulled her door shut behind him as he left the room.

Rose released an aggravated sigh and gathered what she needed for a bath. Not for the first time, she desperately wished she could sleep. She had taken sleep for granted as a human, always eager to stay up late, to never miss a moment when she could be doing something far more entertaining. Had she known the option would be taken from her, Rose might have tried harder to get a good night's rest or remember her strange and colorful dreams.

The only dreams allowed now, Rose would never achieve. Out of any dark thoughts constantly swirling within her, that was the most depressing.