Anala stared at the empty glass as she picked up the bottle and took a swig. She had quit on that cup two drinks in and now it sat uselessly on the counter. She looked at the bottle in her hand. Didn't they have anything other than vodka in the house? Stupid, liquor-depraved house. The stereo blared from upstairs, spitting garbled nonsense with a bass-heavy beat. She took another swig and rubbed at her damp cheeks. Her tears had stopped nearly an hour ago but some still slipped out on occasion. Her tears were pointless. She had no claim to Emmett anymore. The unexpected incident she had seen required alcohol, and a lot of it, the image sticking in her head like paste. It was actually what she had originally wanted. A humorless laugh bubbled on her lips. Anala wanted him to be happy, no matter what. She just never thought of what it would actually look like to see him with someone else. To see his hands on them, knowing what it felt like to have those very hands on her own flesh. She was stupid to hold onto the hope that she could still have him. Stupid and selfish. Anala had dragged Emmett, and by default his family, into a minefield and by some beautiful miracle they survived. She had kept him in the dark to have just a little longer. She'd hate her too. Despite all of that, Anala loved him. She had fallen in love with Emmett and she knew it ruined her for anyone else. Anala wouldn't love another like she did him.

It wasn't possible anymore.

How unlucky did she have to be to be dropped into life and wind up a drunk, murdering, life-ruining being? Anala stumbled into the hall and sat on the second stair, turning to brace a foot against the banister and setting the bottle on the floor as carefully as she could manage. She couldn't even be angry about seeing him and the striking woman together. How could she possibly?! She hadn't even had a stream of consciousness until she was thrown into an abyss and shoved through the veil and into the world again. Life continued in her absence and she was finding it hard to remember that. Emmett could do what he wished, it wasn't her business to know anymore. It felt like not too long ago that she had been in that field, looking at the people she loved for the last time and being relieved this would end for them, but time had passed her by because she was here again with no explanation nor reason.

She picked up the bottle and swallowed another mouthful, drunk enough to not mind the burn and taste anymore. What was she even doing here? Her visions had come to pass, her death the finale. To think everything she had lived through, the long years with death looming over her had all led to now, this moment, it was pitiful and terribly cruel. She hadn't had any visions since her return, so she was left in confusion. Anala didn't want to think anymore. She was pleasantly numb at the moment and wanted to hold onto it. She briefly wondered where Javan had gone. Anala smiled at the thought of the man. She wanted lay with his wolf and pet the thick, black coat of his fur. But he wasn't here. Maybe he went hunting. Or went to find some unsuspecting person to corrupt. At least they'd enjoy it. Anala wished Nolan was there. Her sweet, loving brother. It would've been much better if he'd drank with her. They could have bought better liquor. A fresh wave of tears stung the back of her eyes. No. No more. She dropped her head onto her knee, fighting the urge to weep. It seemed the vodka hadn't completely numbed the pain in her chest and she wondered how much more she'd have to drink to achieve her goal. She squinted at the bottle pensively. Anala really wanted to turn the music off. But the stairs were moving and she didn't think she should try to climb them. Screw the stairs. There was a knock on the front door and Anala sighed.

"Go away," she groaned quietly as she gathered her legs and used the wall to slide up, trying not to fall. She placed the vodka on the hall table and moved to the door. Her heart stung as she opened it.

Just the man she shouldn't be seeing.

Music blared from the upstairs of the house. Emmett had been standing at the edge of the lawn for over twenty minutes now. He could hear her, moving around. The image of her seeing him with Kate had been seared at the forefront of his mind. He was filled with a sickening sense of remorse. Even if she angered him beyond reason, he had to make this right. Emmett couldn't ignore this. It would be spiteful and the thought of intentionally focusing malice towards Anala made him distinctly uncomfortable. Edward had known instantly. Emmett couldn't keep it out of his head. He had stared at him for a long moment before breaking eye contact and walking away. Where did he get off looking at him like that? They weren't together. It wasn't like he cheated on her. What the fuck was this? A movie? Emmett didn't need to hear it. But it hadn't been his fault! How could he know she'd be coming? It was true but it didn't change how he felt. Kate had demanded an explanation and he had no choice but to tell her who she was. Anala was the one she'd heard about. His dead Mate. Well, undead . . . ex-girlfriend now. The only thing left to do now was stand outside her house. Like a cowardly shit. He was a six foot five vampire with incredible strength and speed who could make fire and was terrified of facing a woman who just barely reached his chest and was creeped out by robot movies. Emmett walked across the lawn and onto the porch. Going in through the balcony seemed too casual and strolling in through the front door uninvited would just make him look like a dick and he may be many things but Emmett had been raised to use good manners, be a gentleman, at least when it counted. So he knocked.

She sighed and groaned. "Go away."

Emmett hesitated. She couldn't have known it was him . . . right? This was Anala, it wouldn't surprise him. He contemplated leaving but then heard her approaching the door. The door pulled open partially and Anala appeared. Her gleaming eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks and nose were a bit rosy. His heart sank. Damn. She'd been crying. The sharp smell of alcohol reached him as she exhaled. She didn't say anything and her penetrating gaze didn't waver from his face. Christ woman, speak!Dosomething. Your silence is scaring the hell out of me. He could take yelling, or more crying or getting the door slammed in his face or possibly killed right where he stood but the silence was scarier than any alternative reaction he could think of. Rosalie had never been this silent. When she was pissed he knew. She'd share her thoughts in an explosion of wrath but he wasn't used to such enigmatic women as this one. Anala turned away and began to move away from the door, confusing him. She hadn't slammed the door on him, but she hadn't said anything either. He took it as an okay and pushed open the door, slipping in and shutting it behind him.

The soft blue-green tank top and little grey shorts looked soft and comfortable and unfairly sexy on her. Anala grabbed a bottle of vodka from the side table. She had consumed over half the bottle. She brought it to her lips.

"You didn't have to come. I'll leave you alone." She took a swig, looking at the wall. "I just thought I'd give your things back."

"That's not why I'm here." He said, following after her as she swayed into the kitchen, helplessly raking his gaze over the curves of her full hips and ass and down her bare legs that beckoned him to run his lips along. Anala leaned against the island. "Wh'd you want then?" she slurred, still not looking at him.

"I . . . I just didn't want you to think I was rubbing it in or anything, I didn't mean for you to walk in on us."

Anala's long hair fell around her loosely and Emmett couldn't stop recalling how soft it was, how much he had always enjoyed running his hands through it. A laugh left her and Anala placed the bottle on the counter. She still hadn't looked at him and Emmett kept his body in place, afraid to get too close and touch her and end up upsetting her. Anala moved around the island and turned, finally looking at him. "I was the one who showed up uninvited."

He risked a step forward, a sentence on his lips but Anala beat him to it. "What's her name?"

Emmett hesitated, unsure of the abrupt shift in conversation. He was way out of his element here. "Katrina, but she prefers Kate."

"That's a nice name. She's very beautiful. You'll have to tell her I'm sorry for interrupting you."

She wasn't angry? Emmett wasn't quite sure what to think. He knew what he wanted to do; like kiss her, hold her and apologize, and then scream at her because she had left him alone in the world without her. His demon didn't give a shit about his thoughts or uncertain emotions. The only thing it focused on was Anala in front of him, her unforgettable scent that saturated her home. Emmett didn't know what to do anymore. He was still angry, terribly so, but it wasn't the same anymore. It was becoming harder to keep hating her. Anala's effect on him hadn't changed. He still felt a sense of . . . tranquility in her presence. He despised it, Emmett didn't want to feel it.

"Do you love her?" Emmett hadn't expected the sudden question. She lowered her eyes. "Never mind. It's not my business."

Emmett pressed his lips together. "Anala . . ."

She snorted softly. "You know, I couldn't even be mad? I tried but it didn't make any sense to. What right do I have to be angry?" she shook her head. "Besides, it's my own fault. I shouldn't even be here." She looked at him, coming around the island and stepping closer to him. She stopped a few feet from him, making him instantly think of how she wasn't close enough. She stared up at him, cheeks flush with liquor and emotion.

"You were right you know," her voice was low and subdued. "I should be dead."

Emmett cringed, physically impacted by her words.

"I shouldn't have said that."

"Why? You were right. I don't belong here. What's dead should stay that way. Me, being here, it's against nature."

Emmett stepped forward, hands twitching with the urge to reach out and touch her. No matter what he may have felt in the moment, what he had said was wrong and extremely cruel. "No. No, that was—I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did."

He shook his head firmly. "No, I crossed a line. I apologize."

"Why are you here Emmett?"

"I told you—"

"It's more than that." A weird and wonderful sensation filled him. How was she doing that? Always with the knowing look that came out of nowhere and Emmett swore she'd be looking into his very soul, rooting around and leaving him absolutely dumbfounded by what she found.

"Why are youhere?" Anala's emerald green eyes stared into him with a focused intensity that caught him completely off guard. She looked sad and cautious. She probably thought he was going to lose his temper again and he didn't blame her if she did. But the question did raise curiosity. Why was he here? He didn't have to be, but his conscious hadn't let him let it go.

". . . I don't know." He eventually murmured, lacking a substantial answer.

Her eyes became soft. "I can see it, in your eyes. The anger. The pain I've caused you." Tears pooled in her eyes, making them impossibly bright. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She stepped closer to him, arms tucked to her chest unsurely and leaned her head against his chest. His entire body warmed at the contact. "You didn't deserve to go through that. I only wanted you out of all of that, I never thought . . . I don't care if you hate me. If it'll make you feel better you can even kill me, though I won't ever say I regret it. I don't. But I'm sorry Emmett. Truly. I just—I just want you to know I didn't mean to—" she trembled, cutting off her sob and Emmett didn't know what to do anymore. His hand began to lift, unconsciously wanting to rest against her body and he lowered it when she moved. She looked up tears clinging to her lashes and sliding down her cheeks. "I don't expect you to forgive me but I needed you to hear it."

The turmoil was back, fucking with his head. Anala was so beautiful in that moment. Sad, yes. Drunk, definitely. But hell if there wasn't a clarity to her. Emmett thought back to when he was standing over his bed, looking down at her for the first time since that night in the clearing. He couldn't deny it to himself. The tedious months of empty sex and blood and travel were exactly that. Empty. A few moments in Anala's presence gave him more emotion than all that time tallied together. She had decided to give up her life, and him, telling no one because it was fate. He was pissed.

And he loved her.

Emmett loved her more than he could comprehend. The anger he had felt had proven it. He had hated how she looked at him, how she haunted him, how he fantasized about her. Alright, fine. He could admit his anger was definitely waning with each passing day. Though that didn't change the fact that while she was dead he was becoming a complete monster. Anala stepped away from him and wiped the tears off her face. He stepped forward, unable to help himself, like gravity had transferred from the earth to her. Anala was staring at her bare feet, not looking at him anymore.

"Anala?"

She didn't look at him. "We can never return to what we were, can we?" she wasn't seeking an answer from him, they both knew the answer. And it hurt.

"Please, just . . . go away," she whispered.