Notes: As always, thanks to my betas, ContentedTwiCow, Sunflower Fanfiction, Jules, and AshesAshes. I couldn't do this without you!

Bella still hadn't returned by the time morning came. He'd grown restless in her absence, tormented by the images of her past. He wanted to believe he was indifferent to her, but after several agonizing hours of pacing the space like an enraged animal, he finally admitted that, despite his best efforts, Bella had gotten under his skin. He'd been a man who had prided himself on his detachment. Detachment from women … from life in general. It was ironic; in death, he seemed to have lost that.

He hated her maker, the vampire who'd taken her human life and taught her nothing but twisted desire. But it was the doctor he wanted to rip limb from limb. That was what confused him the most. He was jealous—unreasonably jealous. He recognized the emotion objectively, but he'd truly never felt it before. He wanted to believe it was only a product of his change, but he couldn't. It was clear that Bella alone brought this out in him.

He'd never been jealous as a human. The women he'd been with had been pleasurable distractions from work—a way to sate an urge and nothing more. Short of his concern for his own health, he couldn't have cared less how many men were in their pasts. As long as they were healthy, and there wasn't a jealous boyfriend or husband waiting to kill him, he never thought about the men in their lives. If they were skilled in the bedroom, so much the better.

The thought of Bella falling in love with the battlefield vampire doctor made him enraged. The man hadn't so much as kissed or touched her, but he hated him. Why was that? Why did he care? Maybe it was the way her lip had trembled, the way she looked on the verge of tears when she spoke about him. The wounded look on her face when she described what happened.

He wanted to dismiss her explanation of vampire mates as ridiculous and impossible, but he couldn't deny the way he hungered for her. It was much like his desire for blood. He could control it, push it away, but it was always there, lingering on the edge of his consciousness. The longer he denied it, the stronger it seemed to get.

Stunned, Edward staggered and sank to the couch.

His mate.

Was that even possible? Could he really be bound to the beautiful vampire who had stolen his life and humanity? Bound, not by fear of being alone or surviving as a vampire, but because he loved her?

He shied away from the word immediately.

Not love.

But he did feel the connection to her. His reaction to her history was proof of that. He wanted to soothe the wounded child he saw in her eyes, the lovesick woman who pined for another from nearly a hundred years prior. And he desperately wanted to be inside of the beautiful vixen that had tormented him since the moment she appeared in his bedroom. She was all of those things. Underneath all of the bravado and seduction, there was something frail and delicate there. It made him want to protect her. Would he really feel that way if he didn't care for her?

He belatedly realized he probably should have gone with Bella. He didn't like the idea of her being alone. Intellectually, he knew she was as strong as he was, and far more experienced. And yet … that instinct to want to protect her was undeniably there. It dawned on him that perhaps she felt that way about him, too. Maybe she thought of herself as his protector. Edward knew he'd been too harsh with her, and he didn't like being kept in the dark about what was going on, but he could understand why she was doing it if she thought she was watching out for him. She was tough, she had to be to have made it through everything she'd experienced, but a strange part of him still wanted to be the one to watch over her.

He groaned and let his head fall heavily into his hands. What on earth had she done to him? How hadshe managed to get under his skin in the first place?

Confused and beyond bewildered, Edward was busy trying to comprehend the utterly illogical when the door opened, signaling Bella's return. Without conscious thought, he was on his feet and in front of her. He was so close she had to tilt her head back to see him. "Did something happen while I was gone?" she asked worriedly.

"No," he said, but his thoughts screamed, Yes! I've realized I care for you.

Edward managed to keep his musings internal and said nothing else. Instead, he dipped his head low and brushed his lips across hers. She made a low, startled sound in the back of her throat and froze. He softened the kiss, coaxing her lips open. She sighed and softened against him, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. The length of her body pressed tightly against his as he tightened his grip on her. His mind was dizzy; muddled from the scent and feel of her, but the lingering thought that kept running through his head was how good this felt, how right.

Need flared through him like always, making his cock harden. He deepened the kiss, his hands splaying out on her back. She was so small against him, feeling so fragilein his arms. This wasn't the fierce vampire he'd slammed against a tree in his desperate need to taste her, but the young woman who'd been changed against her will. The stories about Bella's past had brought that needy, yearning girl forward, and something in him ached to reassure her.

Bella was shaking when she drew back. He stared down at her, unsure of why she'd stopped. She licked her lips, her golden eyes wide and soft. "What color were your eyes when you were human?" he blurted out.

She gave him a startled look and then turned her head away, dragging her palms down his arms. "Brown, why?" Her voice was hesitant, puzzled.

He cleared his throat—a pointless, human gesture. "Just wondering."

"Edward? What is thisabout?" She gestured between them, and this time, he was the one who couldn't meet her eyes.

"I … I don't know," he replied hesitantly.

"You seem different," she answered, chewing at her lip. "I don't understand."

He sighed and pulled away, trying not to wince at the ache that bloomed through his body when he was no longer touching her. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from him. He sighed and struggled to explain it. He barely understood what had changed, or why he was feeling the way he was; trying to explain it to her was that much more difficult. "I … don't know."

She let out a soft, shuddering sigh and was silent for a long time. When she turned to face him, her expression was blank. "Fine."

He sighed, too, knowing that he had just hurt her but unsure of what to do about it. None of this made sense to him. How was he supposed to know how to deal with feelings that were so foreign to him? When had he ever allowed a woman to get close to him? Throw in the vampire mating business, and it was more than he knew how to handle.

They spent the rest of the day not speaking. He did more research into genetics and biology as she read. He didn't understand how she could spend all day doing nothing but reading fiction; it would have bored him to tears. Her expression was placid though, and she looked comfortable curled up in the armchair in the adjoining room. He wanted to tell himself that he hadn't picked his position at the dining room table to do his research because he could see her from it, but that would be a lie.

Edward spent as much time watching her as he did anything else. He watched her brush her long hair away from her face, watched the way her fingers skimmed the pages as if she was caressing them. He ached to feel her touch him like that. He could practically feel the ghost of her fingertips across his skin, and it took everything in him not to go to her, not to touch her.

It was dark, the middle of the night, before he cracked. They'd gone to the park to feed and returned to the apartment. Edward paced while she showered, struggling to keep himself from shoving open the door and stepping under the water beside her. He wanted his hands all over her, his lips on her lips, and his cock so deep inside her he'd never want to leave her body.

Edward stood outside of her bedroom door until he heard the water shut off. He could picture every movement she made; the soft sounds told him she was drying off, smoothing lotion on her skin, dressing. He could picture it all in excruciating detail and smell her scent. His cock ached, and so did a spot in the center of his chest. The feelings stirring inside him were more than just the desire for her body, or the release he'd find inside her.

It was so much more, and that was what scared him.

She was still and silent inside the room for the longest time. Eventually, he heard soft footfalls and a whispered voice, hesitant and hopeful, from inches away. "Come inside, if you want." He could imagine her fingertips pressed against the wood, and he rested his palm flat against his side of the door.

It was all she said, and he heard the sound of her footsteps retreating from him a moment later. He hesitated, torn, knowing that if he opened the door and crawled into her bed, he was making a decision that would change everything between them.

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the heavy wooden door. Whether it was a whiff of her scent that he caught, or some memory that randomly surfaced, he was suddenly reminded of the feel of her fingers tightly clasping his. The way she'd made the pain of the thoughts of losing his family recede. He stood there frozen, immobile, needing her.

What was keeping him from going to Bella?

Pride?

Anger at what she'd done?

Was punishing her by staying away doing anything but punishing himself as well? He wasn't sure if they were mates or not, but he knew he needed Bella; he ached for her.

Edward grasped the doorknob and turned, stepping inside before he could second-guess himself.

The light was dim, with only a small lamp beside the bed illuminating the space. Bella was stretched out on the bed, her eyes closed, her fingers tightly gripping the pillow beside her. Her shoulders were shaking as she silently cried. She sat up abruptly, her hair spilling down her back as she turned to face him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The sound of the door closing behind him made him flinch.

"Bella," he said, hesitating in front of the door, "I don't know what I'm feeling or why. If you want me to leave, I will. But … I want to lay down on that bed with you. I'm not saying that I completely forgive you for changing me without my consent, or that I honestly understand this idea of mates any better than I ever have. I can't promise you anything … I just …"

He broke off with a sigh, looking at her helplessly. He didn't know what to say, or how to explain how he was feeling. Yet somehow, she seemed to understand. She nodded slowly and patted the bed beside her. She remained silent and laid back, her eyes wide and trusting. Edward's gaze never left hers as he kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt, discarding his clothes on the floor.

Edward didn't feel like a vampire as he crawled onto the soft sheets next to her. He didn't feel like anything but a man about to take a leap into the unknown; terrified and exhilarated all at once. He'd had plenty of fantasies about taking her in this bed, of pinning her to it and fucking her. He'd pictured it rough and desperate—primal. He imagined the way she'd beg him for more, bite him. But, somehow, the feel of her small, silk-clad body curling around him, her head resting lightly on his chest, and her fingers threaded through his was every bit as satisfying.

They lay there for hours, neither of them speaking. They moved little, other than the occasional soft sigh from Bella, or the times Edward caught himself stroking her hair. Although they couldn't sleep, it was restful. The anxious discontent that Edward had been feeling since Bella changed him melted away. Eyes closed, breathing in her scent, he relaxed.

Eventually, she tilted her head, and he felt the exhalation of her breath against his neck. The first kiss was wary, tentative, like someone approaching a wild animal that they were afraid to spook. Then again, he thought wryly, that is pretty close to the truth.

He didn't move though; just let her continue her soft, hesitant exploration. Her fingertips began to run across his chest, gently stroking over his shirt, caressing. It felt good, almost too good. It threatened to rip the last of the anger he'd been holding on to away, opening him wide to let Bella in, all the way.

Terrified, he lay there still under her touch, but he didn't stop her, didn't get up and leave. Instead, he closed his eyes, breathing in her heady, drugging scent and allowing her to touch him. When she slowly slid up his body and pressed her lips to his, he hesitated for a long moment before he responded. When he finally allowed his lips to open, she let out a startled little gasp. He smoothed his hand over her hair and tightened his grip on her. With a soft, shuddering sob of relief, she kissed him more deeply.

Edward had no idea how long the kiss went on, but it seemed endless. She hovered over him so that her lips were the only thing that touched him. Craving more, his hand slid to the back of her neck, opening his mouth to taste her better. His head swam and his body tingled, but for the longest time, all they did, was kiss.

He shivered when she nipped at his lower lip with her sharp teeth and found himself unable to stop the groan that left his lips. She giggled softly, and despite himself, Edward smiled. He kissed her again, torn between wanting more and reveling in the simple perfection of his lips on hers.

The moment was broken by the soft chirp of her phone. She sat up with a frown, leaning away from him to pick it up from her nightstand. Edward absently trailed his fingers down her spine, the silk of her pajamas no softer than the skin of her exposed lower back. She drew her knees up; wrapping an arm around them as she deftly swiped her thumb across the screen. He idly wondered how she seemed so at home with modern technology when she was nearly a hundred years old and decided he'd ask her when she was done with the call.

He didn't focus on anything but the feel of her soft, soft skin beneath his fingertips as he continued to touch her. He heard the low rise and fall of her voice, but he was so wrapped up in imagining his lips traveling up her spine that he wasn't listening to what she was saying. It wasn't until her back stiffened and she abruptly sat up that his attention sharpened.

"What? Are you sure, Emmett?" she asked, her voice tight and strained. "It can't be. You have to be wrong, you have to be."

She trembled beneath his hands as he sat up and stroked her narrow back. He felt her body heave as she let out a sob and the phone fell from her shaking fingers. Edward picked it up, curling one arm around Bella and pulling her tightly against him.

"What the hell did you just say to Bella?" he barked into the phone, fear for Bella curling in the pit of his stomach.

Emmett's tone was short and clipped. "Talk to Bella."

"She's freaking out," he protested. "Goddamn it, Emmett."

"Talk. To. Her."

Without another word, Emmett hung up, and Edward growled, pitching the phone onto the bed and turning to Bella before it had even stopped bouncing. She was still shaking, hunched in on herself, her arms wrapped around her knees. She made a low, whimpering sound and he gathered her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap. "Shh, shh," he whispered, trying to soothe her. Bella hardly seemed to be aware of him though. He cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were tightly shut and she was murmuring the word "no" over and over.

"Please, Bella. Tell me what's going on," he implored. "I'm right here. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified. "I don't know what to do."

"Just tell me what's going on," he coaxed, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

His touch calmed her; she drew in a deep, quivering breath and her shaking seemed to subside. It was a long time before she spoke, and when she did, her voice was whisper-quiet. "Emmett confirmed what I suspected."

"About what?"

"About the vampire in the woods the other night."

His body strung tight with tension, Edward spoke between clenched teeth. "Who was it, Bella?"

"My maker."

Notes: Well, Edward's finally realizing he does have feelings for Bella and they're starting to make their first tentative progress.

And please don't kill me for the cliff-hanger!