Disclaimer: Read my universal one. I own nothing! Oh, except my storyline! (Please, don't kick me for the slow update! Read the last update!)

One Breaking Dawn ­spoiler–the one involving the pack... I'm not going to say anymore...

Bella POV

The wolves growled as they flooded the clearing. I counted six pairs of glowing eyes, heard deep rumbling coming from six chests. The Sons of the Quileute's had come, shape shifters, able to shift from human form to wolf shape. They slunk around, letting off threatening snarls in my direction. Thick, acrid smoke billowed off from the fire and the burning vampire, the smell of burnt hair lingering in my sensitive nose.

I pulled out my special Egyptian stiletto with my left hand, leaving the other, smaller one in its sheath.

When I had first woken up, those many years ago, I had found afn immaculate, slim blade and its smaller sibling in my hands, sharp enough to cut my skin easily then, not anymore. I had had the blades copiedf, by the Egyptians, because I felt that killing with the real blades would desecrate them, and had no wish to do so. Incidentally, and amusingly, the Egyptian sun god, Ra, was based off of my dagger and me.

A few far off accounts in the earlier years of humanity were enough to plant the idea in peoples mind. Ironically, hawks were my dish of choice then, as I found it fun leap to up high enough to grab them when they sped down to catch their food. I was a predator god in the guise of a human. One time, slipping from patch of shade to patch of shade, I was seen to sparkle. Careless, I know, as it also began the legend of vampires. Though, calling me Ra was a tad disappointing, and not nearly feminine enough for my liking.

The added hieroglyphs were an addition of my choice, a reminder of my time under the cool night sky of Egypt. Also locked up with the stilettos was a necklace, a golden chain with a marvellously worked gold ankh and a ruby set in the loop.

I had named the larger blade Weeper, for the way the liquid ran off the end in little droplets like tears. A blood red ruby was held by the Egyptian sun god, Ra, sparkling in the light like I did in the sun. The smaller sister was unnamed, as it had never shed life or blood. Perhaps that was a victory in itself.

Now Weeper had an added iridescent shine, coated with bloody venom from my immortal victims and their food. If I came across a bitten person, to me it was human no longer. I viewed it as mercy, killing the humans before they endured the Change or died. There was no antivenin for our venom. It was amazing what a simple bite from vampiric teeth could do.

My canine teeth were slightly elongated, barely noticeable, which, along with my many talents, is another show of how very different I am to other vampires. It put good light on Darwin's theory of evolution, although vampires weren't strictly alive. Nowadays my kind is more equipped to blending in with humans, a necessary tool. I can also integrate with society; with my experience it's easy to hide the many signs of my unearthly traits.

I deceive other vampires, so no one but knows the extent of my difference, except myself. Perhaps my maker knows more of myself than I do, if he or she still survives. It's a possibility, but unlikely. I am unique, in body and mind. Years have warped me, changed me from what I was.

Concentrating, I joined my physical and mental self, becoming a single entity. I think, I move. Improvisation separates a weapons master from a warrior, with their rote responses, and being completely attuned helps.

I flexed my fingers and slowly bared all of my sharp teeth in a cold, aggressive smile. Letting the wolves know that I wouldn't go down without a fight, I let loose a vehement hiss of fury and defiance. In return, they gave me wolfy grins, clearly relishing the thought of a battle with me.

Fools.

The removal of Crazy's presence from my mind gave me enough energy to fight back. Using a handy ability, I began taking liveliness off the wolves, restoring my energy levels. For some unknown reason, I can't take energy off vampires, but other species shares theirs freely.

Brandishing the long dagger in one hand, I waved arrogantly at the large dogs. They had one advantage over me: they fought to kill, while I fought to survive but not slay. Still, I had the bonus of being older, faster, more experienced, and stronger. Although that strength was also a slight disadvantage. I had to hold back, limit my strength and hold back my strikes. With an ounce of pressure too much, I could cut through cut off limbs or cause irreparable damage. They might have adapted to be able to kill vampires with ease, but I am a master both unarmed and with any weapon that had ever been made. Running my tongue over my razor teeth, my grin widened. I am never truly unarmed.

I took some heat from the pack, warming up the ground slightly, one of my little used abilities. I could draw heat–or cold–from a source and relocated it. It was easy for me to change temperature levels, due to the fact it didn't use any energy, and it was handy in fights. I acted like a circuit, the heat flowing through me and into the ground. It was an uncomfortable feeling: I felt light-headed as it entered, powerful as I contained it, then relatively weak and feeble when it left. I was very careful to avoid adjusting the temperature near Angela; her weak human body wouldn't be able to handle the severe fluctuations. She was deeply unconscious, an added bonus.

I let my mind-reading gift run loose, warning me of any moves the wolves might make. My ability to tell the future was faintly weakened around wolves, not completely disabled like a younger vampire. In my own way, I was as unpredictable as them. If any of the wolves went catatonic due to my ability, it would just be another out of the way. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to kill any of the wolves, preferably I would be able scare them off, but for me, my survival was paramount. I didn't take the life of another lightly, unless they killed others, like most vampires, but I would if I had to.

An iron grey lunged at me first, circumnavigating the largest, a black that I took to be the Alpha. He took a fronton method, going straight for my throat. My royal blue skirt was ripped and torn beyond recognition, hanging around my legs in long, thick strands. It twirled as I swayed to the side, the iron grey plunging past me. I whipped my body around three times before letting fly a hard roundhouse kick.

(A/N: Just so you know, a roundhouse kick (also known as a round kick or turning kick) is a kick in which the attacker swings his or her leg around in a semicircular motion, striking with the front of the leg or foot. Thank you God for Wikipedia. The spinning here is just to add momentum. You do that and you can pack a real punch, but overbalancing is easy.)

I felt the solid blow as my foot collided with ribs. The added force from my spinning flung the wolf across the clearing. A crack sounded and the wolf whimpered. I executed a beautiful leaping, rolling somersault, landed gracefully and, spinning around, sunk back into my half-crouch. I swung my blade up and cut a deep line in a wolf's underbelly as it collided with my iron body. I felt the warm blood splash on my face, running down the planes of my face. My eyes repelled the invading liquid, and I licked at the blood that was running down my face, grimacing at the bad taste. Claws became blunt as they tore at my body, shredding my clothes further. Harsh metallic shrieks bounced off the trees, and I held back a scream as I pushed the over-sized dog off me. The cruel claws had torn painful rents from the soft skin at the base of my throat to my stomach, deep enough to expose the pale bone of my sternum.

The injury and the subsequent adrenaline rush sped up my venom gland, identical to the salivatory gland in humans. I let the excess spill out of my mouth and into my hand. Slapping it onto the wound, I winced slightly at the stinging sensation when I rubbed it into the wounds. The venom had some healing properties, and the faint scars that would form and the pain would be worth it if I survived. Vampires couldn't bleed out, but to fight I needed to be able to stretch and move completely. My body could heal itself, but I needed to be okay now, and these cuts were nasty. Only moments passed before the soreness eased, and only a dull ache remained of the slashes that would have killed a human.

The dogs snarled and redoubled their efforts as my injury healed, seeing a weakness that could be exploited disappear before their eyes. A gangly chocolate bounded forward, feinting to the right before lunging at my right arm, the one that didn't hold the dagger. I didn't fall for his ploy. I dropped an instant before he came at me, back on the ground. Grabbing a paw as he flew over me, I twisted it until I heard the satisfying crunch of bones snapping. I let go after an instant, my goal achieved. It was sad–this one was just a kid. He couldn't be any older than fourteen, and here he was, fighting me.

The wolf crashed to the ground, skidding across the blood splattered grass. The black Alpha had to jump over him to avoid being knocked back. The chocolate's crushed paw started to heal, but the tiny bones in the foot would have him in agony for hours. The air was becoming tangy, the smoke from the fire mixing with sweat from the wolves, making it hard to breathe fresh, clean air. I kept breathing however, the smell of the air being disturbed from a certain direction could warn me of movement.

A russet one came at me from the side. I felt bitterness rolling off him; obviously he hadn't wanted to join the ranks of the pack, and blamed my presence for his entry. I stepped aside, Weeper swinging, and I gave his flank a slash, red liquid congealing in the engraved hieroglyphs. To his credit, he made no sound, landing lightly on his front paws and darting out of range.

The pack regrouped, communicating silently. I received names and positions in the pack hierarchy. I realised–they weren't going to give up. This was a fight to the death. The knowledge saddened me, the wolves were protecting their families–even if they were enjoying the thought of disposing me–but I made peace with myself. It was either 'kill or be killed'; my grief for what I had to do was lost in determination.

After a moment, the russet–Jacob–ran forward again. He had learnt his lesson, and started circling me instead of rushing into a blind attack, looking for a weakness. The rest of the pack followed his example, letting loose snaps and snarls, finally becoming a coordinated group, or rather, pack. I wondered how ridiculous this must look to a human. The wolves were huge and dangerous-looking, and they were wary of little me, standing in the middle.

Though, I guess I didn't look too helpless anymore. I caught glimpses of myself in their minds. My face was noticed first. A streak of garnet blood ran down my face, contrasting vividly against its snowy background. The dramatic amalgamation of red and white made the savage black flames of my eyes larger and darker, turning them into black, endless, obsidian portals. Portals to my lost soul, one might say. My face was sharp, angular, wild, the curling hair framing it more auburn than brunette.

My lips were curled in a seemingly callous grin, bringing to my face a cold, heartless beauty. My outfit swirled, tattered but majestic, around my lithe body. My slim, long limbs twirled in an elegant ballet. In one hand a shining dagger was clutched, blood forming intricate tattoos along the arm. The other had red fingernails, the fingers long and slim, looking fragile but for the blood staining the white skin. I looked cruel, inhuman... feral. And I loved it. This was the real me. No matter how much I pretended to be domesticated and tame, I was wild. I was an animal that could never be tamed.

I felt a shift in the air, and a slight breeze carried the sound of someone's passage in the forest to me. My nose separated the scents that floated on the breeze. One penetrated the wolves' stench, a mouth-watering smell that I wanted to breathe in until I drowned in delight. I was elated by Edward's arrival, but also devastated; I loathed the thought of him being hurt. I moaned on the inside, but didn't let my anxiety show on my face. The wolves were too intent on the fight, too intent on me, to hear the woodland dash, and their noses weren't as sensitive as mine.

The previous presence of multiple vampires made detecting Edward by smell near impossible, especially as our scent burnt the wolves' noses, making sniffing undesirable. The wolves didn't know that Edward was here, and I wanted to keep it that way. I concentrated on the task at hand: survival. I held no animosity against the wolves, they were just another exotic species of wildlife in this large world, but now I had Edward, I had a reason to live, and was in no hurry to die.

The melee grew more heated–faster and more intense. I remained in my half-crouch, sliding out of the way of a rear attack from the huge black Alpha, Sam. He just avoided a cut from my diamond nails, twisting his body athletically in mid-leap. The iron grey, Paul, came at me a bare moment later, but I was prepared. I spun Weeper and gave him a clean cut on his hindquarters, sharp blade easily cutting through muscles and tendons.

I swiftly changed the temperature again, drawing on a never-ending supply of cold from my body, making sure there was a reasonable distance between Angela and the cold. I saw the wolves flinch with the instantaneous switch from hot to icy, the dancing flames of the fire going out as the ground was covered with a slight covering of frost. I leapt at Jacob, biting him, careful too only inject a mild dose of venom, not a lethal amount, so he would only become ill. At the same time, I stabbed through his leg, muscle parting easily before the razor-sharp silver. Blood made my grip on Weepers' hilt slippery, but I firmly yanked the blade out as I skipped back, out of the way of Jacob's furious jaws.

The gangly chocolate–Quil–decided to jump, and I sent a bolt of pain towards him. Ashes flew in the air as he writhed among the remnants of the dead fire, the blood in his chocolate coat combined with specks of grey ash made clumps of sticky mass in his fur. My energy began to dwindle, and I began to draw more and more off the wolves. I waited for Edward to intervene, but he seemed frozen. I felt awe, and something else coming from him. Fear? I pushed the thought away as I fought, telling myself I would think on it later.

A cut finally landed on one of Sam's huge, muscular legs. Shallow, but it would still bleed for the few seconds that it took to heal. I rolled under Sam, jumping lightly up into a tree. I pulled on my temperature gift as I flew through the air, taking heat away from the wolves and pushing it into the earth. This time, the gap between Angela and the warmth was quite large, in case of radiated heat. The wolves were suddenly freezing as their warmth was transferred into the ground. A few stumbled at the huge heat fluctuation: while they were freezing, the ground was super-heated for an instant, burning their paws. This effectively put them into a daze, and they were lucky that it didn't knock them out completely. It was a very risky move on my behalf–there was little oxygen to start a fire, but the ground was still scorched. The move could have easily killed any of the wolves: when their blood literally became cold, their hearts wouldn't be in good condition. But when the heat suddenly boiled their blood, and the body and organs had to deal with the shock a second time... Hypothermia and hyperthermia in less than a second–not good.

I grasped the trunk of the tree for a moment, holding on with all fours like a cat. Absorbing my forward momentum, the tree acted as a springboard, allowing me to vault off the tree. It groaned, but didn't break. I landed on the other side of the clearing, off to the side of the big wolves. I heard a gasp come from where Edward was watching. I prayed that it would be lost in the sound of my fighting, that the less sensitive ears of the wolves wouldn't catch it. But my prayer wasn't answered, of course.

Jacob turned towards the sound, as did Quil and Paul, but they turned back after a warning growl from the big, bristling russet. He continued forward alone. I fought desperately, trying to force a gap in the ranks of the pack so that I could take Jacob down. The pack seemed to bristle in response, their attacks becoming faster, protecting Jacob from me. I began to panic, sensing Jacob's intentions. Even if it killed him, he would kill Edward. And I was too far away to stop him.

I tried to leap over the pack, but four also tensed up their muscles in preparation to jump. That was when I knew that it would be hopeless to save Edward and not kill any of the wolves. If Edward was to live, the wolves had to die. With a tremor in my heart, I prepared to kill them all. I would have to move quickly, make it painless. These victims fought to save their family, friends and homes, and I was going to kill them to save the love of my existence. I knew my action wasn't justified, it was selfish, but didn't I deserve some happiness? After living in the darkness of loneliness for so long, and sacrificing so much to save others, didn't I deserve some light? Still, this slaughter–there was no other word to describe it–would leave a scar on my heart.

Over the turmoil in the clearing, I heard the sound of frantic passage in the forest. My spirits lifted even as I told myself not to hope. As the sounds grew nearer, I felt my body relax with relief, even as I fought. Jasper's influence swept through the clearing, washing around me like a rock in water, the wave forcibly soothing the wolves.

The Cullens walked out of the trees and flanked Edward, Alice glaring at Jacob. I laughed silently, my chest heaving. Jasper shook from the high emotions, and I tried to alleviate his suffering by sending out my own wave of calm, and spinning a faint shield over him. He shot me a quick look of gratitude, but his eyes told me to let it go. I did so with relief: I couldn't have maintained it anyway. My power felt like a slippery eel, slithering through my grasping hands.

Jacob did his best to ignore Jasper's emotional influence, and was still posed to jump, although his muscles weren't as tense. He was aware of what the price of his action would be, but willing to risk it all for his family. Just as he was about to leap, I threw one desperate piece of my power out, not bothering to waste any time covering it up so that Sam didn't know that the suggestion was mine. With my less-than-subtle urge, Sam slowly turned and whined, telling Jacob to help finish me off. Sam shot me a look of pure white rage, but I ignored him, throwing in an extra decree so that Sam wouldn't counteract his–or rather my–order.

Although it was clumsy, it did its job; Jacob struggled for an instant, back bend from the compulsive power of the command, then he turned away from the Cullens with one last insolent look. It wasn't like he had a choice–he was compelled by the power of the leader. But before he could attack, Jasper sent a stronger compulsion to rest, until they lay down on the ground in a drugged stupor, heads resting on their paws

Edward shook himself out of his reverie, and once he and his family deemed that the wolves were deeply in their induced trance they ran over, darting past the wolves to join me. The big dogs tensed when they surrounded me, trying to throw off the enchanted daze. Jasper sent another wave of calm through the clearing, the wolves relaxing unwillingly.

Edward came and stood by my side, and I sagged onto him, utterly spent. It was an odd feeling–my body was still mm strong, but my mind was exhausted. Feeding would fix that little problem, though. It always did. Edward grabbed my stiletto and, with a slight hesitation, I let him take it. He held it for a moment, before handing it to someone. Jasper, I guessed. I didn't lift my head away from Edward's chest to see.

I didn't know now what Edward felt towards me–the fear that had come off him before had shaken my observation of our relationship. I knew it could have been fear for me, but I felt it was something different, and my gut-feelings are rarely wrong. Pushing away unhappy thoughts, I snuggled closer into Edward's chest. Edward couldn't hide a small flinch at my chilliness. I let myself relax into him, letting my head roll onto his shoulder. I knew I was blood-spattered, and probably getting him filthy, but I couldn't have cared less. I was in the arms of the man–the vampire–I loved, and we could sort through any problems we had together.

(A/N: I could end here. It's a sweet ending to this chapter, but I like you guys and I feel guilty, so I'll go on!)

Edward murmured reassurances to me, like I was a small animal needing comfort. I leant into his voice, letting the smooth waves of velvet roll over me. I nestled into his shirt, wanting this day, this night, to be over. Heavy paws padded into the trees, snapping underfoot twigs, before returning, this time with two feet. I looked up slightly when I felt his heavy gaze on me. Quickly, I connected my mind to his, baring my emotions and throwing thought after thought at him, all in an attempt to convey my reasons to Sam for controlling him. Blocking Edward's seeking thought probe so that he couldn't listen in, I willingly shared my feelings for Edward with Sam Uley, a complete stranger.

His glare softened slightly when I hit upon a memory of his Emily, and the depth of the love they shared. He bristled a bit when I first stumbled across the thought, trying to protect her, but soothed when I showed him the comparison between their affection and Edward and mine's. His imprint was much the same as my bond with Edward–unexplainable but shockingly compelling. He knew that he couldn't live without Emily, and I knew and I couldn't survive without Edward. My heart and Edward's heart were one, so entwined that one was indistinguishable from the other.

I heard Carlisle speaking soothingly. Sam stepped up to discuss consequences with him, and eventually an agreement was reached. Someone–Jacob–stormed out of the clearing, coming back spitting metaphorical fire. Surprising me, Jacob muttered only one heated, derogatory remark before stepping down, albeit grudgingly. I mildly noted Sam's wry comment about my ability, taking it as a compliment.

"We'll return the human to her house, if you will tell us the address," Sam spoke with finality. Carlisle refuted, stating that I needed to adjust her memory.

"She can do that here, can she not? The girl will be safe with us. Much safer than with you leeches." Poor deluded Jacob: she was much safer with us than a pack of teenaged wolves that had enough trouble with control thinking of vampires, let alone carrying a human female back who smelled of them. Still, I trusted Sam enough not to voice my concern.

"We'll take her home. I think you have other things to do," Sam said tranquilly.

Yes, we had a lot to discuss. I turned and writhed out of Edward's arms, walking towards Carlisle with a slow, even gait. I made sure I had no sign of weakness in my stride, although I nearly stumbled when I had first touched the ground fully. Calmly, I whispered in his ear, and he dug around in the suitcase that he carried around. I grinned at him as he gave me a Syrette. (A/N: it's like a syringe, but a bit different. Yes, the first letter is meant to be in caps.)

Sam looked askance at me when I turned, and shied away when I approached him.

"It' not our venom or poison," I pointed out. "It's morphine for Angela, the girl. Morphine was the only thing we had on us. Hopefully, it will also prevent shock, although I'm going to have to make up a cover-story for her injuries."

Jacob glared viciously at me as I reached Sam's side, and I heard Edward step forward threateningly in response. I looked back at him, rolling my eyes playfully. Boys.

Lifting one hand, I touched Sam lightly on the arm and sent a bolt of thought through him. He flinched away, but I held onto him. His russet skin was uncomfortably warm to me, and I knew that my freezing hand would hurt him a bit. He jerked his arm away more firmly, but I had shown him what I needed to. I conveyed a series of images, showing street names, houses, and signs. I didn't share the images with the pack, knowing that they might get confused and contradict each other.

What I did do was use the connection Sam had with the pack and show them the cover story. I told them that they could tell their elders what had really happened, but the general public would know only the made-up version. When a few lips curled in rebellion, I reminded them that this was for Angela, not for us. How would she live her life, having nightmares about creatures that were pale and stalked the night, and huge wolves? They all backed down, thinking, bar one. Jacob still stared at me, anger in his eyes.

I moved past Sam now, heading into the centre of the clearing, to the ashes of the dead fire, the only evidence aside from the greasy smoke, faint purple smudges against the gradually lightening sky. Bending down at the waist, I scooped up the two ruby eyes that were all that remained of Crazy, one in each hand. I held them for a second, reminiscing, before clenching my fists lightly.

When I opened my fists all that remained of the two eyes was shimmery dust, cupped in my palms. I tilted my hands, letting the slight breeze float the powder away. Walking over to Angela's limp form, I swore under my breath. Crazy hadn't been very gentle with her, and why would she? To her, Angela was just a piece of meat, a light snack, and nothing more. Nevertheless, the injuries that Angela had suffered were really, really bad. She needed to get to hospital. The only reason she wasn't in agony now was that she was so deeply unconscious.

Along with the fine particles, I willed Angela's memory to flow away, to be washed clean. I found from her memories that her parents were away, and this was the first time they'd trusted her to 'keep the house' while they were gone.

She would remember a hit-and-run car accident. It accounted for her injuries, and it was a handy excuse. She'd been having a walk, when she was hit by a car. The Quileute boys happened upon her on their way to the movies. They'd panicked, taken her back to the reserve. Someone there injected the morphine, and then drove her to Forks hospital. The hospital would call Carlisle, and he'd come in to make sure that she was okay. The delicate procedure was difficult, but not as hard as doing it to a vampire, because humans didn't have such vivid memories.

I changed her sleep from an enchanted slumber to a natural one, albeit one much deeper than normal. She would be in a comatose state. It wasn't uncommon for someone who had their memory altered to dream about the events, especially if the events were traumatic, but they were nightmares only just glimpsed, forgotten in the light of day. With careful monitoring for the next few weeks and maybe a few slight readjustments, Angela wouldn't be affected in the long-term at all.

I whispered an apology for getting her involved in this. Where I walked, chaos followed, and the small town of Forks was no exception. Joy had come to me here, yes, but I was unnatural, and nothing could change that. I also murmured a blessing in Latin over her, aware that her family was very religious. I didn't know whether a prayer from the damned walking dead would be heard, even if there was a god above, but there was no harm in trying. If God loved, he'd pay attention to a plea for one of his Children, even if it came from a Child of Satan. If God created all, then Satan was His Child, and then we were His Children also, even if by a roundabout way. And if we are His Children, shouldn't he love us also?

We can't change what we are, and I doubt many would kill themselves to gain the love of God. Life is sweet, and our days can last forever. That is a curse for some, and although many humans would kill thousands to be immortal, they don't know how the days stretch forth and grow darker with each death on their head and in their heart. Many immortals can't stand the test of time, and go insane. If God is real, he would want our days to be joyful. That's maybe why he let the human's lives be short–so that they don't endure the mind-numbing weariness that comes with eternity.

With a shock, I realised that I had thought out that little piece of philosophy while still connected to Angela's mind. I quickly erased that particular argument, and examined my work. It was precise, clean. A work of art, I might call it. No dreams of unnatural beings should haunt her dreams. Still, the unconscious mind was a formidable opponent, and it might pull up some trivial piece of information that I forgot or overlooked would bring back her memories, creating a domino effect. Still, if I erased a whole chuck of her memory, it could be detrimental to her psychological wellbeing.

Carefully, I made a make-shift tourniquet out of a strip of my shirt around her arm. Removing the plastic hood from the Syrette, I prepared to inject Angela. Carefully, I positioned it over the muscle at the back of her left arm. Quickly but carefully, I thrust the entire needle into her arm, making sure to not push too hard. I looked up at Carlisle, who gave me a reassuring smile. Slowly this time, I started to squeeze the tube. Everyone looked on solemnly, waiting. When all the morphine was all injected, I massaged her arm to help circulate the morphine.

"Carlisle?" I asked. "Pen and time?" He gave me a pen, and showed me his watch. I wrote the time and date on the tourniquet, and slowly stood up and stepped back. Idly, I noted that Jasper had stepped back, away from Angela and her warm blood.

"Give that to the doctor when you arrive. Make up the rest of the details when on your way, like who injected the morphine. She shouldn't wake up soon," I told Sam. "Do not lose that material, okay?"

Job finished, I returned to Edward's side, careful not to stagger. Sam picked up Angela's limp form easily. The Cullens walked slowly backwards, Edward supporting me, to the edge of the trees. Jacob phased, his shorts exploding as his human form was replaced with a larger-than-life snarling wolf. Sam walked away, Angela cradled like a doll in arms. I trusted that he would remember the way to her house.

The pack merged back among the trees, growling, although my sharp eyes could still see three of them waiting. Our guard, or watchers, I assumed. Ignoring them, I stood on my toes, seeking Edward's mouth. The Cullens started to head away, giving us some privacy. Edward willing complied, giving me a chaste kiss. He pulled back slightly, as if afraid of a reaction, but I craned up further, and he surrendered. For too quickly, he moved away, putting his finger on my mouth to stifle the protest on my tongue. I looked up amiably, and Edward lifted me into his arms. Carrying me, bridal style, he jogged through the woods. I ignored the wolves and closed my eyes, focussed on the feeling of being in Edward's arms. On the spur of the moment, without thinking, I spoke.

"I love you, my Edward." Did that sound a bit too possessive?

"I love you too, my Bella." I loved the way he spoke my name, and I wondered if he liked it I when I spoke his name.

I relaxed totally, concentrating on the rocking motion as he carried me, the way he held me close to his chest. As soon as we crossed the treaty line the three wolves dropped back, watching. I tapped Edward's arm, and we stopped too. Edward held me carefully as I hopped down. Nevertheless, I staggered slightly, but strong arms supported me, preventing me from an awkward plop to the ground. I could tell that the wolves were uneasy, but I ignored them.

As loathe was I was to leave Edward now, I needed to hunt. Going alone would be much faster and allow me to feed more. Leaning up, I gave Edward a kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "I need a snack."

Dashing away, sniffing at the air, I followed the slightly repugnant smell of herbivore, followed a trail of a warm touch on the ground. I hunted down a small herd of deer, and targeted a doe, standing meekly away from the herd, near the trees. She stood just a few metres away, an easy snack. Not as nice as some other animals, but good enough. Quickly, I dashed in and grabbed her, not alerting the animals to my presence. I expertly snapped her neck, being careful to only paralyse–not to kill–and dragged the body away. I eagerly fed, not straining the heart too much, letting it pump the blood to me.

When the body was drained, I childishly hurled it into the Quileute territory for the wolves to deal with. Try as I might, I was still a bit irritated. Unlike most of the rest of my kind, I didn't like fighting. Vampires changed over time–just because we could fight and were deadly, didn't mean we had to. A long time ago, even the vampires who fed off humans were sophisticated. From where I stood, it was a romantic, sensual world with grand parties and close companions. I stood on the outside, watching and occasionally darting in when it became a bit too corrupted.

The thump when the doe landed alerted the herd that there was a predator in the vicinity. Shaking off the memories of times long past, I darted in amongst the panicked animals, breaking all the necks I could reach. My hands were soon coated with blood, red droplets leaking out when some shattered bones broke the skin of a deer.

I drained the dead herd hastily; preternatural speed allowing me to drain and remove evidence of the dead animals swiftly. Finishing, I began to hurry back to Edward. A quick glimpse as I ran past a puddle showed me that my eyes were almost luminescent in their golden brilliance, standing out from the vivid red that painted my face. Stopping abruptly, I skidded across the damp ground before returning to the shallow pool. Kneeling down, I hurriedly scrubbed the worst of the wolves' blood off, watching as the pool was tinted pink.

Through the rosy haze, I saw that my lips were stained red, and a faint flush simmered under my cheeks. The influx of blood restored my mental wellbeing. I felt strong and invincible again. Getting to my feet, I continued my journey back to the arms of the love of my existence.

And, thinking of the future, I felt hope.

A/N: No cliffy at all! I know that it's lousy, and there is bound to be a heap of mistakes – and tell me so I can fix them up! I just couldn't resist the fight scene. I changed bit, but I'm going back to the last chapter and fixing it so that it matches. If you get something saying that chapter 14 is up, that'll be why. I will try to update soon, I promise! Reviews will make me update faster and feel better. I'm getting better.

I'm only allowed on the internet for a few minutes, and I'm doing this instead of checking my emails, although I did read your reviews. Yes, my life is one huge cliché. My friends thought it was hilarious when they found out that what had happened to me, also happened to the character in my favourite book series. And several pledged to read Twilight, so I guess that's one benefit. So, what are you waiting for? Review, review, review!

Ninja Spork (mmm... seafood sauce... yummy...)