Chapter 17
With a deep sigh, I laid back on the double, four poster bed, feeling utterly ridiculous.
After an embarrassing meeting with etiquette at the dining table, I had 'retired' to my
room, and now I was sitting in a silky gold nightgown, much too posh and incredibly
scratchy to wear to bed, half-suffocating under a pile of richly embroidered eiderdowns.
I sighed. I missed Edward so much… It was like all the corners of my heart that had been
patched up a little, were ripped apart again and exposed to all the emotions he had
managed to block out for me – pain, loss, hurt. Perhaps he would come, I fantasized,
on a great white horse to rescue me like Rapunzal from her tower, and we would dash
away into the dark night… I smiled at the thought. A little knock at the door, woke me
from my reverie. I blushed automatically, calling,
"Come in!"
The door creaked open and Wovers sheepish face appeared. I grinned.
"Hey Wovers. Come in!" He sidled through the door, closing it silently behind him and
walked over to me, perching softly on the edge of my massive bed.
"How are you doing?" he asked concerned. "You must be missing your foster family."
I nodded, but added,
"I never really saw them as a foster family… They were like a real family to me. Friends.
The best of friends." My voice quavered, my lips trembling softly. Blushing a little, Wovers
edged closer to me, wrapping his lanky arm around my shoulders, his body warming
mine.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere, in the far-off winter forests of Canada, a vampire raced through the pine
trees, fear spurring him on, faster than he had ever been before. He had to reach his love
before the man attacked. That strange, strange man…
______________________________________________________________________________________
BPOV
I stiffened as Wovers drew closer.
"It's all right Ms Bella. You'll be fine. You're safe here." Gradually I relaxed again. I had
a friend here.
"I'm so glad," I snuffled gratefully, "That you're here."
______________________________________________________________________________________
The figure of a man blurred through the landscape.
______________________________________________________________________________________
I leant into his shirt, my tears running freely. That was probably why I didn't notice his
reaching further round my back and angling down. And why I didn't notice, until it was
too late, Wovers grasping my wrist firmly and cuffing it to one corner of the four poster
bed. I stared up at him, confused and fearful.
"What are you doing??" I tried to squirm away, the thumping of my heart telling me that I
had to get out, that I wasn't safe. He didn't reply, but I saw a manic glint rise in his skinny
features, as he grabbed the rest of my limbs and gave them the same treatment.
"Wovers! Go away. NOW!" I tried to be loud and forceful, but my voice was high-pitched
with fright and cracked nervously. I was overwhelmed with the speed in which my
situation had changed – just a minute ago I had been weeping pitifully into his crisp
white shirt! And now…
Casually, Wovers strolled over to the door and bolted it shut. He walked back over his
hand trailing over the bed clothes, and up my body. I shuddered against him, and his
eyes lit up excitedly, misinterpreting my disgust. A boy, with a man's tools.
"I've been waiting a while for this you know." he murmured conversationally, as he
crawled onto the bed.
"You're sick!" I spat, "Get the hell out of my room!!"
"Shhh, shhh my Bella." he soothed, "You don't know what you what… what you need."
With this, he straddled my waist, the bulge in his groin firmly pressed down. My heart sped
up furiously. I couldn't believe this… This was actually happening to me. Delicately, and
incredibly slowly, he unbuttoned my blouse. Savoring each moment.
"You've got a twisted little mind, you know that," I hissed, "Get the fuck off me."
"Language, my dear," he murmured, before drawing his face to my breasts. I gasped
in fright and disgust, as my chest heaved and I began to cry with fear and panic. I
couldn't do anything, helpless, afraid.
"Edward," I moaned, "Please, help me…"
