I was having a nightmare. I knew that's what it was. It had to be a nightmare. No scream came out from my open mouth; there was no pain as I dug my fingernails into my palms.

Wake up, Eleonora.

The part of my mind that knew I wasn't awake was fading.

ELLIE, WAKE UP.

And then it was too late. Everything was dark. My head was covered by the hood of my Volturi cloak. When I pushed it back, the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow was disorienting. Shielding my eyes with my arm, I looked around.

I was standing in the clearing. Several fires burned around the edges of the field; strangled moans and anguished sobs echoed from every direction. And then, suddenly they stopped. All at once, the scene changed. Or so I thought, before realizing that I hadn't noticed everything — or everyone — in the field with me. A circle of black-cloaked figures advanced around me like phantoms floating above the icy ground. Their forward progress stopped suddenly, and with one swift synchronized movement, they each removed their hoods. I gaped in horror - it wasn't the shadow of the hood that had obscured their faces from view.

They just…had no faces.

I was still staring at the featureless figures when their formation changed; a section of the circle opened, creating an opening. I walked through, feeling the slow movement of phantom guards walking close behind me. Ahead, I could see Caius — his blond hair just barely visible over another figure that stood between us. When he realized I was there, he slowly cocked his head so I could his sneering face. Without a word, he raised one hand up in the air, and like a marionette dangling from a wire, the figure turned around.

"No!" My scream reverberated beyond the trees, but Christopher only stared back at me. His face was even more frightening than the faceless zombie guard crowding around me. Even from the distance that separated us, I could make out his features — perfectly in place — but his eyes were wide with fear. Before I could run to him, an inky gray fog snaked across the meadow, swirling around his legs, and crawling up his body like a lover. As the wisps of smoky reached his face, all life — all recognition disappeared.

"Els, wake up." I was vaguely aware of a hand on my shoulders. "Ellie, love, wake up."

When my eyes finally opened, I squinted and blinked a few times. The reflected daylight off the crisp white walls was disorienting, but eventually, everything came into focus. Christopher lay on his side, one arm bent under his head. His brow furrowed and concern creased his face as he lightly rubbed my back.

"There you are." He smiled when he decided I was finally awake. "Good morning." His hand moved from my back to my face, his fingertips smoothing across my forehead and my cheek. "Bad dream?"

I swallowed, reaching to touch his face, unable to shake the nagging doubt that my waking state was reality. Maybe I just passed out in the field from fear or mental manipulation. I stared at his face, not speaking. After a few moments, the concern in his eyes returned.

"Els?"

"It was a dream?"

He smiled tenderly, stroking my lower lip with his thumb before leaning in for a soft kiss.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I took in a shaky breath. I closed my eyes, and the whole scene was as vivid as it was while I slept.

"It was the meadow. The one from the other day. Fires burned in the distance…people burned…" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, opening my eyes again. "I was surrounded by a sea of Volturi cloaks. I couldn't recognize anyone - their faces were hidden, but even when they weren't — their faces just weren't there."

Christopher's hand rubbed up and down my arm, watching me patiently as I struggled to form the words to describe the rest.

"It was Caius." I buried my hands in my hair, my elbows pressing into my knees. I couldn't bring myself to explain exactly what I saw. "It was always going to be Caius." Christopher waited patiently until I looked up at him again and explained. "My father thinks he has unassailable power — even among the three of them — simply because they can't possibly keep their thoughts secret. He knows every wish Marcus has ever had to end his entire existence." I swallowed. "And he knows every mutinous desire Caius has ever had — every time Aro has held him back the cruelty he wanted to inflict.

"There's a danger in that kind of omniscience. At least that's my fear if you could call it that. Aro will be too complacent. Too quick to assume that because he knows what Caius is capable of — maybe better than Caius himself — that will be enough to stop it."

Christopher nodded. "What did Caius do? In your dream?"

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. "Christopher, I can't."

"You can't what?"

"They'll come for us." Even with my eyes wide open, all I could see was the way his face deadened as Alec's mist enveloped him. "They'll come for us and they will kill you. He will kill you."

My heart was pounding faster and fast; I scrambled to sit up, wrapping my arms around my knees as I held them against my chest. I bent my head as if I could hide tears as they fell from my eyes. He was sitting beside me almost instantly, wrapping his arms around me and whispering into my hair. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I focused on the gentle murmur of his voice in my ear as I struggled to control myself. When the sobs calmed and the tears cried themselves out, I took a deep breath. I picked my head up, looking up at him with what I hoped was a determined, resolute exception.

"I have to go back to Boston." I kept my voice even; unemotional. I ignored the sensation that I was about to take a scalpel to myself, cutting out my own vital organs.

Christopher looked at me speculatively. "Okay. Let's go." He stood up and found his clothes, pulling on his pants. "Get dressed," he said when I didn't move from the bed. "I have a car here. We can be on the road as soon as you're ready."

"Christopher," my voice faltered. I pretended not to notice. "No. I can't go with you." I took a deep breath. "You can't come with me."

Christopher calmly finished buttoning his pants and then crossed his arms across his chest.

"No."

I squinted at him. "No what?"

"No. No deal. I don't agree."

I shrugged my shoulders. "That doesn't matter. I'm sorry. I never should have come here. If I had known…"

"Thank god you didn't know," he shot back sharply.

"Christopher, you have to listen to me. It's too—…"

Before I could finish my sentence, he was sitting in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"I have been listening Ellie. I hear you. I just don't agree with you."

I scowled. "You're making this harder."

"Good."

"Be serious, Christopher."

"I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life." He kept his expression even, staring at me with unwavering serenity. "Now, please, tell me what happened in your dream."

I glared. He waited, apparently satisfied to sit in silence, rubbing his thumbs in circles against my palms. After several minutes, his eyes softened and held out his arms wordlessly beckoning to me. I crawled into his lap, tucking my head between his chin and his chest. Suddenly, as he held me in his arms, I couldn't find my determination to abandon him; to abandon…whatever it was that was happening between us.

I took another unsteady breath. It was all I could do to whisper. "Caius had you. It was like he had control over you — like a puppet. He doesn't have abilities like that, but I think it was more…symbolic I guess. But I was surrounded by the guard. Faceless; all of them. And when Caius made you turn around to face me, he smiled this sick grin and all I do was stand there and watch you just…slip away."

"And just so I have this straight," he said slowly, dropping a kiss on the top of my head as if to let me know he wasn't trying to be harsh, "you want to go home and forget this ever happened. Because of a bad dream."

I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn't find the determination I felt a few minutes earlier.

He pulled back slightly, taking his chin in his hand and angling my face so he could look into my eyes.

"Ellie," he said, his face controlled and calm again. "If you tell me right now, honestly, that you don't think we should be together — that you don't want us to be together — I will take you to the airport, and you will never have to hear from me again."

His eyes burned into mine. I knew he knew what I would say.

"This is going to get you killed."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling victoriously. "Then I will die a happy man."

Sometime later, after we showered together and dressed, Christopher watched me from the bed as I combed through my hair. Glancing in the full-length mirror in front of me, I could see him leaning back against the headboard on the side where I'd slept. His long legs stretched out over the jumbled sheets. He smiled at my reflection before reaching over and plucking a ring I'd taken off from the small bedside table. I set the comb down and turned around, resting my elbow on the tall dresser and watching him turn the ring over in his hand, running his thumb over the ancient blue stone. He glanced back at me, smiling and holding it out to me. I took it, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed and sliding the ring back into place on my right hand.

"It was my mother's," I said, looking down at my outstretched fingers. The blue topaz was in remarkably good condition, considering it dated to the late 16th century. The engravings on the gold band and casing had long faded, and I often considered having the gem reset entirely. My eyes flicked up to meet his gaze. "At least that's what my father told me when he gave it to me."

"It's the same color as your eyes." Christopher raised his hand to lightly touch my face.

"Hers too, apparently." I looked down at my hand again. That was the only detail about the woman whose life ended because mine began that I ever learned. And it took years of begging my father to even get that much. For a brief moment, I could feel the centuries-old yearning to understand where I came from — who I came from — but I shook my head clear of those long-repressed emotions. When I looked at Christopher again, I shrugged. "That's all I know about her."

Just then, new voices — and the thrum of several heartbeats — could be heard from downstairs. We looked at the door for a moment and then back at each other.

"The wolves are back," Christopher said.

"Oh." I'd forgotten about the pack of wolves that stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Cullens and their witnesses. I had to admit, their appearance took me by surprise. Even more surprising was their appearance in the house now — in human form, casually chatting with members of the Cullen family. Christopher chuckled, understanding the look on my face.

"I know," he said. "It takes a little getting used to, but they are good guys."

I nodded, willing to take his word for it. The flurry of activity downstairs reminded me that we had probably been holed up in the bedroom longer than politeness permitted.

"I suppose," I said reluctantly, "we should make an appearance, too."