Disclaimer:(CONTENT and LEGAL) All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Notes: First of all, I can't believe I did this, but I forgot to thank my pre-readers and betas in the first chapter. Soo, my apologies, because they have been an enormous help and I really would hate to try to do this without them. Major, major thanks to ContentedTwiCow, Jules, Sunflower Fanfiction, and AshesAshes for some stellar work. They all helped with various aspects of whipping this story into shape and they did wonderful job with it. I heart them.

Secondly, thank you all for your enthusiasm for the story; I really think you're going to love it! I am so excited to be posting something new.

Finally, the warning I gave you about it being non-canon wasn't meant to scare you off. I just don't want you to expect a bubbly Alice and goofball Emmett. E&B will get their undead HEA together, but I am going to have fun doing something a little different than usual with all of the characters. As much as we love the original story, sometimes it's fun to play with them a bit and do something different.

p.s. And for those of you who thought the first chapter sounded familiar, yes, it was an entry in the Pick a Pic contest and then posted as a one shot on my profile as well. Ch. 2 starts something brand new.

Chapter Two

Bella's mouth on his neck was as agonizingly pleasurable as before. But there was a new desperation in the way she gulped down Edward's blood. It was different, more predatory. Or maybe that was only because he was more lucid this time. Before, he'd been drugged on pleasure, his mind fogged by whatever kind of spell she had put him under. This time his awareness was bright and sharp.

Mingling with the terrible, drawing sensation of his blood being stolen from him was the tingling of the nerve endings in his neck. The dizzying scent of Bella swirled around him, and Edward felt the soft brush of her hair against his cheek. Despite being fully aware of the fact that she was feeding from him, his cock grew even harder. He felt the lengthening and thickening, the way it pushed up against the soft fabric of his boxers.

Suddenly, a wave of vertigo overtook him. The stinging, prickling pleasure went on and on, before the pain began to overwhelm everything else. Edward cried out and weakly pushed at her small shoulders. She growled low in her throat, and his hands fell limply to his sides. He knew he couldn't fight her. Bella pushed him onto the bed as she continued to drink.

The woozy sensation continued and he tried again to stop her. "Stop, Bella, please," he said, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears. He hoped the use of her name would get her attention.

Bella, what an oddly sweet name for someone so strong and fierce, he thought hazily.

"Please," Edward begged brokenly, becoming aware of the thundering of his heart as it raced to pump the small volume of blood still in his veins.

He knew he was dying. She was killing him.

He could barely focus as Bella abruptly sat up, her nails digging into her own neck. He blinked dazedly as she lowered herself down on him again, so his lips were pressed right up against the gash in her throat. Something slippery and wet touched Edward's lips and he licked them, the dryness of his mouth compelling him to suck. It was the same burning, white-hot tingling mint of her arousal, but even more concentrated.

Somewhere in the dim recess of his mind, Edward was aware that she was changing him, making him into what she was. He wanted to protest—to tell her to stop. Edward knew that what she was doing wasn't right. He didn't want to change. He didn't ask to be changed. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop drinking from her. Bella finally pulled away, and his body shuddered underneath her. The pleasure was gone. The screaming agony of his dry veins burned inside him like fire, and real panic set in.

Edward's mind raced. He began to wonder he could ever survive such blinding pain. Should it hurt this much? he wondered. Perhaps she'd done something wrong; perhaps he wasn't going to be turned at all. He might just be dead. He had time for one, last, lucid thought before his mind was washed away in a haze of black. At least I'll make a beautiful corpse.

~Dreaming~

Edward was utterly disoriented when his consciousness returned. His body felt strange; curiously light, yet heavy at the same time. He wasn't uncomfortable; far from it. It was as though every bit of discomfort had been washed away. He blinked a few times and then opened his eyes. There was a concrete ceiling above him, and despite the distance, he could see every crack and chip on its surface.

His mind felt strangely blank, like he didn't know who or what or where he was. With a startling suddenness, it all came rushing back to him.

Bella.

Killing him, changing him—maybe.

The night before—had it been the night before?—he'd fallen unconscious from the lack of blood. He sat up abruptly, but instead of the light-headed dizziness he expected, he found himself pitching forward, his body moving faster and further than he'd intended. Edward shook his head in bewilderment, and looked around the room. He was in a large, open space; all surfaces made of concrete. There was scaffolding draped in plastic sheets, and a pile of lumber stacked along one wall. He could smell the dust in the air and the sharp scent of pine from the boards. Was he at a construction site? But where? Had Bella brought him there?

He looked around, but didn't see her. There were no hiding spaces where she could be lurking. She was just … gone. It was nighttime; he could tell from the lack of light coming in from the windows. But he had no concept of whether it had been hours, days, or even weeks since she'd bitten and drank from him.

Edward stood up, and noticed again how different his body seemed. Power seemed to hover under his skin; the muscles and tendons primed and ready for action. He took a step forward, testing out the strange feelings in his body. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the window—just a fraction of a second after he'd thought of doing it—that he realized his worst fears had come true.

Edward had become what she was. He was a vampire.

"No!" he growled. Edward felt the rage building within, bright and burning, and he let out a roar of frustration. Almost instantly, Bella was standing behind him. "Shh, Edward, it's all right. I'm here."

Her small hands, which had once felt hard as rock to him, felt soft against his back. She was trying to soothe him, but he found himself furious with her, and his skin prickled at her touch.

"You changed me into a goddamn vampire," he snarled, rounding on her. "What part of that all right?"

The calm expression on her face faltered for a moment. "You wanted this."

"I never said that. I was considering it, but you ... you killed me," he spat out.

"No, Edward, I ..." She looked bewildered. "I ..."

Her words trailed off again and she looked down at the floor. "Are you angry with me?"

"Of course, I'm fucking angry at you. You took away my life without ever giving me a chance to choose. I didn't decide this, Bella. You did."

She whimpered softly, her eyes looking sad and hopeless. "It wasn't supposed to be like this ..." Once again her words trailed off and she stared at the floor, not even seeing him.

"What did you think would happen? That I'd be grateful to you and we'd go off into the night, drinking blood and fucking? Did you expect some sort of undead happily ever after?"

She chewed on her lip; a strangely vulnerable, human gesture. But it only angered him further. He'd never felt so violated before, so out of control.

"I don't know. I didn't think you'd be angry with me," she whispered. "I thought you'd chosen to be with me."

His resentment grew with every word she spoke. "I didn't choose anything. I didn't ask for it. You took it from me. You did this to me," he roared, his rage backing her up against the wall as she shrank from him. "I would kill you if you weren't already dead."

She didn't flinch, but she did look away, the corners of her mouth turning down before she spoke softly. "You still could. Not kill me, exactly. But you could end me."

"A stake to the heart?" he snarled.

She laughed softly, bitterly. "No. A quick twist and you could remove my head from my body and burn me. That's all it would take."

"And you'd just stand there and let me do it?"

She shrugged. "Even if I fought, you'd win. Newly made vampires are the strongest of our kind."

Edward made a grating, growling sound in his throat that startled him, and he whirled around and stalked to the window. "Why? Why did you do this to me?"

"Because you're mine," she answered immediately. "Don't you understand? You belong to me." She whimpered again; a wounded sound that carried and echoed through the nearly empty space.

Edward shook his head and took a step in her direction. "You may have created me, but I don't belong to anyone." He was tense and irritable and felt like doing something to release the tension that crept through him.

There was a soft whisper of wind as she flew across the room to him, her fingertips digging into his upper arm. "You are mine," she hissed.

He whirled around and she let go, but he could see her strengthening her stance, a snarl curling her upper lip. He should have found her predatory possessiveness completely abhorrent, but something about it made his stomach clench and his cock throb.

"Why do you keep saying that?" he asked angrily, pushing away the part of him that still wanted her in spite of himself.

The anger in her eyes faded a little, but it was replaced by hurt. "In the vampire world, there are mated pairs. Soul mates, essentially. Twin spirits. They're often why a change takes place. The vampire meets their mate and changes them into a vampire so they can be together. You're mine."

He gave her a scathing look. "How on earth can you know that?"

"Your blood. It smells different to me."

"Different how?"

"I don't know how to explain it … I don't have the words for it. It's more intense, deeper, richer maybe. More appealing. My nose recognized it the moment I ran across your scent."

"And when was that? How long have you been stalking me?"

"I … I wasn't stalking you," she protested. "But I saw you months ago. You were walking home from the subway after work. I was out hunting in the area, but I followed you instead."

"Why not change me then? You could have dragged me into an alley and been done with it," he scoffed.

"I nearly did. But I wanted to know who you were as a human." Her tongue slipped out and wet her lips.

"Why would that matter?" he asked venomously.

"I love you," she whispered.

He blinked in astonishment and then laughed. It was a long, loud laugh that verged on the edge of hysteria. When it finally quieted, she seemed to have shrunk into herself, looking small and fragile. His amusement turned to anger. "You love me? You don't know me," he growled.

"I do know you," she said fiercely. "I learned everything about you. You grew up in Forks, Washington; son of Elizabeth and Edward Cullen, Sr. You moved to Manhattan to get your degree. Your parents died just after you finished there. You live alone. No family, no relationships."

"You think you can sum up my life in a few sentences?" he asked angrily. "I have dreams and ambitions. You know none of that!"

Her eyes flashed fire; her stance no longer meek and soft. "Your career? Meaningless. You were a financial drone. You had no hobbies, no plans to travel, and no friends. You had nothing."

He flinched at the cold, hard truth of her words. He found that he'd backed her against the wall again without even realizing it, his arm braced against the concrete, his snarling face just inches from her own. "And now I'm dead."

"No," she protested. "Now you're alive. Not physically, of course, but you have unlimited power and resources at your disposal. And time; you have all the time in the world. You can be whatever you want—do anything you've ever wanted to do. Don't you understand? I've given you the world."

Edward's hands balled into fists against the wall, sending chunks of it to the ground at their feet. "What I understand is that you changed me without my consent. I understand I'm stuck with a fucking vampire that thinks she's in love with me. And I understand, very clearly, the fact that I don't want any of it."

Her expression faltered, morphing once more into something sad and broken. Bella wilted before his eyes, drawing in on herself. She slipped out from under his arm, and he made no move to stop her. The rage that coursed through his body burned hot and furious, and he slammed a hand against the wall. He found the feeling of concrete shattering under his touch oddly satisfying. Digging his fingers into what should have been an impenetrable surface, Edward went mad. He ripped and tore at the wall, destroying huge sections and not caring about the damage he was causing.

Finally, he gave up, sinking to the floor amidst the rubble, staring at his white, unblemished hands. A six-foot, square section of wall was gone, obliterated in his fit of anger. He'd torn it down with his bare hands, and yet, they were unharmed with not a scratch or blemish on them. They were perfect. Better than perfect, in fact. Even the scar on the side of his thumb where he'd cut it as a child was gone. As were the faint freckles he used to have across the back of his hands. His skin was now bone-white, and his hands and forearms were smooth as marble.

He was flawless.

Edward looked up and saw Bella standing a few feet away; her face was curiously blank of all emotion except for the strange, hopeful expression in her eyes.

"I know you're angry with me." Her voice was quiet and cam, as though trying to soothe a wounded animal. "But you're also in desperate need of blood. It's part of why you're so angry. Being hungry makes us more volatile. Can I take you hunting?"

Just the thought of blood made a searing, scorching fire rip down his throat, the need for it tearing into him with a viciousness he'd never felt before. He was on his feet and standing in front of her immediately. He felt like his body was vibrating, humming with a high tension that made him grit his teeth together.

"Now," he rasped.

She nodded, reaching for his hand but withdrawing it, a crestfallen expression on her face, when he didn't take it. She turned and he followed as she moved toward the door.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"To the park." She opened the door and closed it immediately. "Before we go, you need to know that the desire to feed is going to be overwhelming, but you can control it."

"I won't just rip out the throat of the nearest person I run across?" he asked suddenly apprehensive.

She shook her head. "No. It's not an uncontrollable urge. It's terrible—frantic and urgent—but you can rein it in."

"How?"

"It helps me to think about other things; something else that I want more."

The laugh that left his mouth was hollow, and hoarse. "I want to wake up and find out this was all a fucking dream. Will that work?"

She looked down at the floor again, sad and vulnerable. Her voice was soft, as if pleading for him to understand. "I truly thought you wanted it. I thought you wanted me." She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry; I know I didn't give you a choice. But I couldn't survive without you."

They had reached the same impasse that they had been at before, so he gritted his teeth. He was irritated by her hyperbole. Couldn't live without me? Right, he voice was cold when he spoke. "Just tell me what I need to know and take me hunting."

"We'll go to Central Park. Follow my lead. I'll feed first, and you can watch. I'll show you what to do."

"How do we choose them … the people, I mean?"

Her shrug was careless, dismissive. "We choose whoever we want. Whoever smells the best or is the most accessible."

"Do we kill them?" he asked apprehensively, not entirely sure how he felt about the idea. He wasn't the type to think that all human life was inherently precious, but he had never been a violent person, either, and the thought of taking someone's life made him uneasy.

"The thirst is terrible, but not uncontrollable. We only kill them if we want to. You'll be able to hear when the heart starts to struggle. It'll be hard for you to stop, but I'll step in if it gets too close."

"How do we keep them from remembering?" His mind flashed back to the way she'd taken his memory from him, and then gave it back.

"Look at me," Bella said softly. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. Rather than the glowing crimson he remembered, they were softer looking, a deep amber color. He now remembered that her eyes had looked like that when they first met on the street. It was why she hadn't seemed quite so unnatural to him. The red was disconcerting.

"We have the ability to manipulate people's memories," Bella explained. "Normally, our eyes are the golden color. With concentration, you can learn to remove the memory. We can't exactly read minds, but we can pull the memory from them. When our eyes are red, it's when we're focusing on the memory. No one truly understands it; there aren't a lot of vampires doing research on it, after all. You just have to learn how to use it."

"You must be able to sense it somehow though, right?" he asked, frustrated that she wasn't explaining it more clearly.

She nodded. "I can feel it. It's like a low humming. I can go right to it and sort of … tug at it."

"Will I be able to control people's memories?"

"Eventually. It will take time and practice. I'll wipe the memory clean for you until you learn how."

"So I'm dependent on you until I learn to control myself," he said bitterly.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Fine," he said coldly. "Take me hunting."

~Dreaming~

On their walk to the park, Bella explained to him that the building they were in was an old warehouse being converted into expensive lofts. The interior had been gutted and new walls built—like the one he'd torn apart—to divide the space into apartments. Funding had fallen through for the developer, and the building remained unfinished while they tried to secure it again. "Why there?" Edward asked. "Why did you choose to take me there?"

Bella sighed. "It's a good place for a new vampire. You can destroy things to your heart's content without anyone noticing."

The walk from the unfinished loft to Central Park was not a short one, yet Edward was amazed to find that he wasn't tired at all. His body felt alive, humming with energy and purpose. Every sound, every scent was amplified, but he found he could almost tune it out, like he was turning the volume of a television set. He seemed to be able to control all of his senses in this way.

If he concentrated, he could hear the soft footfalls of Bella's shoes, the whisper of the denim of her jeans, even the sound of the strands of her hair, sliding over her shoulder. He could still smell the heavy, sensual fragrance of her perfume, but his memory of it before seemed muted, and waterlogged. Now it was a complex, swirling amalgamation of notes, rich and full. It seemed to fill his nostrils and linger there. It made his chest feel tight, and his cock fill with blood. Or is it blood? What is my body composed of now? he thought with a frown. He didn't like that there was so much he didn't understand about what had happened to him.

Do I need to breathe? he wondered. Experimentally, he held his breath, but the burning in his chest or the feeling of being lightheaded he would have felt if he was human never came. How bizarre it was, to think of himself as not human. How quickly it had all changed.

Edward let out the air he'd been holding in an aggravated huff. Bella glanced over at him, and he was hit with another wave of her perfume when he breathed in again. So breathing was an automatic response; something he did out of habit, not from need. A small part of him was fascinated by all of it, no matter how unwelcome the change was; no matter how much resentment he harbored that the choice had been taken away from him.

He took another unnecessary, deep breath, and as his mind registered the scent of her perfume again; his irritation grew. It made his voice sharp when he spoke. "What the hell kind of perfume are you wearing? It's driving me crazy."

She looked up at him again, her large topaz eyes glittering in the dim light of the streetlamps. "It's not perfume, Edward. It's my scent; you're smelling … me."

"Okay," he said with an indignant snort. He didn't like that she was playing games with him despite knowing how upset he was. "So you just naturally smell like sex and sin, sprinkled with a bit of ecstasy?" he asked scathingly. "I think it's some kind of expensive perfume laced with pheromones or something."

Bella laughed. "You're partially right. It is pheromones, but I produce them naturally, as do you. The theory is that they're there to help lure in prey. Our scent appeals to them—makes them weaker and more compliant so they don't fight when they recognize our othernes."

"Hmm." He remained unconvinced. "So, you smell that good to humans, too?"

"I smell good," she corrected. "I only smell so appealing to you."

"Because I'm a vampire?"

Bella shrugged and nodded with a smirk. "Your sense of smell as a vampire is more acute. But it's also you, Edward. I smell that good to you because you are my mate, and I am yours."

He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous idea. "You didn't smell that good before you turned me."

She sighed. "It's complex. I smelled good to you as a human for two reasons. One was because of the mate-bond, and the other because of a vampire's natural appeal. You becoming a vampire only increased that. It strengthened the mate-bond because I was the one who turned you, because your sense of smell is more acute, and because it's a natural urge for us to mate."

"Mate? It's supposed to make me want to fuck you more?"

"Doesn't it?" she purred, wetting her lips.

"No," he said shortly, but he was lying. Edward knew he was lying. Her scent made him crazed to take her; to drive himself in to her; to feel her body surround his. To claim her.

She frowned. "It should. In a mated pair, where one turns the other, it's the strongest kind of bond. It's sealed by the sharing of first blood, and the claiming of one another as mates. It's a biologically driven response."

He didn't have to analyze his body's reactions to know that there were urges and instincts compelling him to do exactly that. But she didn't need to know that. "I think you were wrong about us being mates," he lied. His stomach twisted at speaking the words, but he continued. "I don't feel any of that for you."

A wounded, raw expression of hurt flashed across Bella's face, but there was a stubborn tilt to her jaw. "You don't mean that," she asserted. "You can't."

"Of course I do," he said simply, glancing at her wearily. "You're nothing to me, Bella. You're a silly, childish vampire, who saw something she wanted and stole it even though it wasn't hers to take. As soon as I know what I'm doing, I'm gone. I'm not going to stick around here while you beg me to mate with you. Go seduce some other unsuspecting prick and turn him. Maybe you'll actually find someone who gives a shit."

She let out a keening whimper as the viciousness of his words sank in. The sound of her pain made a spot in his chest throb with an ache so powerful he would have doubled over if he'd been human. But he wasn't, and it took all his strength to harden the vestiges of what had been his human heart and kept his face cold and impassive.

"You don't mean that," she repeated; her words a desperate plea. Edward gave her a cold, disinterested glare and she shook her head. "You're lying." Her voice was less sure sounding as doubt began to creep in.

"If I felt it, wouldn't I be desperate for you? Wouldn't I be completely unable to resist you?"

Another flicker of doubt crossed her face, and Edward took a sick, vicious pleasure in her pain. "It's just that you haven't fed yet," she stated firmly, trying to convince herself that she wasn't crazy; that they were, in fact, mates that were destined to be together.

Bella refused to speak again until they were inside the park. The noise of the city diminished, and Edward detected the small, rustling sounds of animals moving in the trees and bushes. He could hear the tiny thump of their heartbeats, and the smell of blood of several different species of animals filled him. He remembered Bella saying that some vampires fed from animals, and he wrinkled his nose. It sounded much worse than the idea of feeding from humans. He paused for a moment, shocked by that realization. It was an odd feeling to realize how much he'd changed.

As they passed near a group of humans, scorching, blazing fire in his throat made it feel raw, but Bella had been right; the urge to rip out their throats wasn't unbearable. He was acutely aware of the deep, rhythmic sounds of their hearts pumping blood through their bodies, and he wanted to feed more than anything in the world, but it hadn't been nearly as hard to resist as he'd feared. It made sense; how else could vampires exist among humans and have them be none the wiser? Taking their memory would only do so much if there were bodies drained of blood lying all over.

The further into the park they got, the quieter it became. Edward could pick out individual conversations as people murmured quietly to each other. He heard the sounds of two people kissing and noticed that, due to the low groans of pleasure, they must both be male.

"Do you hear the single heartbeat?" Bella asked. "The one with no others near it?"

"Yes." It was a few hundred yards to their left, and they left the paved path to head toward it. Bella led him to a better vantage point, and they spotted the man long before he could have hoped to spot them. He was middle-aged, worn and weary, and hunched over on a park bench smoking a cigarette. From the small pile on the ground between his knees, it was obvious he had been there a while.

Bella spoke so quietly he knew no human ear could have heard the words that passed her lips, but Edward heard them as clearly as if she'd whispered them into his ear. "Always choose someone alone, find the most secluded spot you can, and pay close attention to anyone coming near. The last is the most difficult, but also the most important. It's easy to tune everything else out when you're feeding, but keeping an ear out for others will get easier with practice."

He nodded once, his eyes locked on his meal. Edward felt none of the old symptoms of nervousness; no adrenaline, no racing heart, and yet, something remained; possibly, the ghost of those human emotions.

"Watch me first." Bella walked over to the man with gently swaying hips and smiled at him. A dazed, stunned expression crossed his face when she spoke. Her voice was low and husky, and he remembered when she'd spoken to him like that, although the words were different. "Hello. Could I trouble you for a light?"

A cigarette miraculously appeared in her outstretched fingers, and Edward saw the man's hand tremble as he lifted a lighter toward Bella. Faster than Edward could dream, she dropped the cigarette to the ground, knocked the lighter from the man's hand, and her hands clamped down on his shoulders. The man barely had time to blink before she wrenched his head to the side, fingers gripping his hair. She sank her teeth into his neck, and he let out a startled hiss of pain.

Edward's cock hardened in an instant. Watching the feral expression on Bella's face as she fed was more arousing than he could have dreamed. The gleam of her white teeth against the man's sallow skin, the tiny drop of bright red blood, the power in her body as she gripped the man twice her size, as if he weighed nothing at all; they made his cock throb and the pull of her body that much stronger.

Her whine of disappointment was familiar as Bella forced herself to let the man go. Edward remembered her making the same sound when she'd let go of him. The first time. She hadn't been so generous the second time. A flash of anger at the memory made his body ripple with resentment, and he heard a low snarl that he eventually realized was coming from his own throat.

She deposited the man, none-too-gently, onto the bench and looked over at Edward. A drop of ruby liquid hung on the curve of her full lip. His snarl grew louder when he realized he wanted to lick it off her, to share a mouthful of blood before driving his cock into her and denying all others the chance to have her ever again. The fact that she had been right about how much he wanted her only made him angrier, and the part of him that didn't want to mate with her, wanted to kill her.

She stalked over to him, as lithe and predatory as ever, and he shuddered with the suppressed urge to take. To fuck. To possess. To mate.

"Drink," Bella ordered him, and he didn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he was standing beside the body on the bench. The man was dazed and pliant as Edward lifted him. He didn't think once about how odd it was to have his lip pressed so intimately to a man's neck, or the fact that the moment he clamped his teeth down, he was drinking blood. He only thought of the way it fulfilled his need as the viscous liquid flowed into his mouth.

It took a moment to find a rhythm, to work the man's throat in a way that allowed Edward to gulp it greedily down as it pulsed into his mouth. He was only vaguely aware of Bella standing to his right, but nothing else. His eyes closed in ecstasy, the sensation of drinking blood was surprisingly sexual, even though he had no attraction to the body slumped in his grip.

The coppery scent of the man's blood filled the air around him, no longer nauseating, but compelling. He remembered loathing the smell of blood when he was a human. The sick, disgusting feel of it on his mouth the first night Bella had bitten him had made him heave in revulsion; his stomach had been queasy at the very sight of it.

Now there was only the urge for more. Rational thought fled Edward in the face of greedy, desperate hunger. He could feel blood running down his chin, and yet, he gave no thought to stopping or slowing down. It was only the feel of fingers on his wrist and his name being called that brought him back.

He lifted his head and turned with a snarl to see Bella's lips inches from his own. The drop of blood was still smeared on her lip and he closed the distance between them without a thought. His tongue captured the blood on her soft lower lip with a quick flick of the tip.

Bella's sensual moan ignited something in his body, and he drove his tongue between her parted lips to taste her. The rich scent of sin and sex that hung around her was amplified by the taste of the blood, and Edward growled against her mouth, feeling his cock throb with a distant, echoing memory of his human heartbeat. He let the limp, male body tumble to the ground and roughly pulled Bella's body to his. Her small frame no longer felt alien against his; it felt right. So, so right that it made his head spin.

She gasped and grabbed onto the back of his shirt, her grip firm, but no longer overpowering. Now they were evenly matched. Another low growl left his lips when her tongue invaded his mouth, bringing with it the fresh taste of blood. He could feel it against his tongue, and the intimacy of the gesture made him that much more desperate to claim her body.

The needs of his mind and body merged until they were both one word, one desire; take. She let out a low, purring sound as his hand snarled in her hair, yanking her head back so he could fuck her mouth with his tongue.

Yes, Edward thought, this is what I need.

Their bodies slammed against a tree, and Edward pinned her to it as he dug his hand into the rough bark over her head and continued to ravage her mouth. She responded just as aggressively, and the feel of her hands tearing at his hair and her sharp teeth biting at his lower lip only egged him on. He felt deranged and out of control with need as he ripped his mouth from hers and growled lowly in her ear.

Bella's whole body shuddered against him, and Edward caught a wave of her scent. As it washed over him, his knees went weak. He realized that it was her arousal he'd smelled all along; her desire for him. It pulled at him and compelled the urge for violent, wild rutting. Every memory of every human woman from his old life seemed bleached out and distant, while the memory of her grew sharper.

As intense as the previous experience with her had been, Edward knew any feelings of desire he'd felt for her then would be increased a thousand-fold now. He could sense the power in his body and knew he'd be able to thrust deeper, harder, and for longer. Bella would never tire either, doing anything and everything he wanted. The growl in his chest grew louder and more desperate; he felt unhinged by his need for her. She begged for more with a pleading whimper, and his hand thrust between her thighs. No longer cold or rigid to him, she felt burning hot, like he was in danger of going up in flames just being that close to her.

"I'm going to fuck you," Edward rasped, and she shivered again, pressing herself against him.

"Yes, Edward." Her hips moved against his hand roughly, desperately. "Take me; claim me; make me yours."

The moment the words left her mouth, the haze cleared. The staggering, blinding need for her disappeared. Angrily, he released Bella, and he heard the crack of the tree trunk as her back slammed against it.

"I said I want to fuck you. Not that I want to make you mine," Edward snarled, the pain of separating himself from her surprising him.

The look on her face and the howl that left her throat sent a chill down his spine. Never had he heard such a grieved, wordless wail of despair in all his life.

Notes: So, what did you think? Vampward is pissed! And poor Vampella is heartbroken. It's going to take them some time to get this all figured out, but that'll be half the fun! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on the chapter and I will see you next week!