NOTE: I did alot of research to be as accurate as possible within the context and confines of this story.

arashshara = "great chief"

Itzpapalotl = "obsidian butterfly"

Six - I'm Not the One You Were Meant to Find

1342

The Silk Road, Persia

When he saw her again, Edward recognized her immediately by her kohl-rimmed eyes; it didn't matter that they were set in slightly darker, sun-kissed skin. The sheer crimson veil that shielded the bottom half of her lovely face had thrown him at first, but the moment she looked at him, he knew. He could feel it, as if the turmoil and despair of losing her was all washed away in an instant and, just as he remembered, there was nothing but a wall of slate where her thoughts should be.

Isabella.

The timestone had dropped him in the middle of a desert and it was only his extensive history courses in college that led him to the conclusion of where he'd landed – based on the clothing, language, and merchandise being moved neary in caravans full of horses and camels, he was probably somewhere Persia on the Silk Road. His initial assumption was that Bella must be a laborer, helping to control and supply the goods that traversed the trading route most likely into Arabia or Egypt. That was, until she caught sight of him lying in the sand nearby and immediately rounded her horse and came to poise the deadly point of her spear at his throat. Despite the precarious position, Edward's heart warmed affectionately at the woman assessing him. Bella was a warrior here – how appropriate.

Her beautiful eyes were narrowed on his face, the words thrown at him in what he recognized was Farsi, "Whatever it is you are seeking, you will not find it here. I suggest you go back to wherever it is you appeared from."

Edward wanted to prostrate himself at her feet, to embrace her tightly and reassure himself that she was truly well and alive but he remembered Kair's words.

Isabella will be different from the girl you knew, but she is still your soulmate under whatever physical facade her soul takes on. She won't remember you, but she will know you. Do not repress her, do not try to control her. Do not attempt to force her to remember.

Wherever the timestone brought him, he had one chance to get it right, to give Bella what her soul was seeking and every move, every decision had to be made with that in mind. He would need to properly modulate his speech, his mannerisms, and his actions if there was any hope for reaching the real her.

"I would, my lady," Edward carefully raised his hands in a show of submission, "but I do not know how."

She pressed the tip of the blade into his skin and though he was no longer sparkling, he felt no pain from her weapon, "I should slit your throat, but I would bet everything in my caravan that you would not die."

Her caravan? Of course Bella wouldn't just settle for being a warrior when she could be the one making the decisions for the welfare of others who needed it. He should have expected something like this from his little Valkyrie. "You would be correct."

"There is no room in my ranks for a sorcerer," she warned, lowering her spear. "My people are wary and mistrustful of magic."

Edward felt it was finally safe to sit up and noticed he was dressed in airy trousers and a loose shirt reminiscent of what he remembered was appropriate for the time period, "I can assure you, I am not a sorcerer, my lady. I have no magic for anyone to fear."

"Your golden eyes and lack of concern for death say otherwise."

"Inhuman is not the same as magic," he admitted, unwilling to ever lie to her again so long as it did not break Kair's rules. "I will pose no threat to you or your people. I swear it."

She looked wholly unconvinced, "The word of men has long since ceased to mean anything to me, but since I cannot seem to send you away, what is it that you want? I will give you silver or goods, but I do not deal in the flesh trade."

What felt like bile rose in his throat at the thought of what she was implying. It was so easy to forget what life was often like for these women when he'd become accustomed to their life back home. Was that why men's words no longer rang true for her? Had someone…?

Edward stifled the murderous rage clawing at his insides at the thought of someone hurting his mate. He bowed at the waist in respect, hands once again raised in submission, as he addressed her, "I have no need for anything like that. I only request a place in your caravan, perhaps as someone to aid you. I am not magic, but I can read minds. My skill may be of use to you, my lady."

"Perhaps," she relaxed a little, quickly checking behind her to see if anyone noticed them and was pleased when no one paid them any mind. "If you are to stay with us, I should know what to call you."

Do not attempt to force her to remember.

Edward made a snap decision then, just to be safe, "Masen, my lady."

Her brow furrowed, "Masen…" She tested the letters on her tongue slowly, seemingly tasting each letter until it made sense to her mouth under the sheer veil. "You may accompany us so long as you keep your word and prove useful to me, Masen."

He bowed slightly again without taking his eyes off of her, "Thank you, my lady."

"Izzat," she corrected, tossing her dark chestnut hair over her shoulder as she tugged the reins of her horse to lead him back to the group. "My name is Izzat."

Edward stifled a smile when the meaning of her name clicked in his mind.

Respect. Might. Glory. Honor.

"As you say, Izzat."

x-x-x

As Edward was still unable to sleep, he had devised a night routine of hiding out near the wagons carrying the goods in order to protect them while Bella – Izzat, her name here was Izzat – slept. She was a fierce leader for her people but, exactly the same as before, she had a tendency to run herself ragged in the pursuit of aiding others and curiously, listened to no one save for Edward.

He'd been with Izzat for nearly a week now and had indeed been able to prove his worth in numerous ways. Twice now, one of her own men had planned to steal some of the goods they were transporting and Edward was able to inform her before it happened so she could intervene and avoid exiling them for stealing. She hated doing that.

His sweet, soft-hearted mate.

He'd also been able to alert her to a group of would-be bandits that had approached their caravan a few nights prior. Without hesitation, Izzat had snatched up her spear and slain the bandits – single-handedly as she'd strictly forbidden him from interfering – in the dead of night while the rest of her guards slept peacefully in their tents. Watching her fight had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Bella – Izzat – was a force to be reckoned with when given a weapon and though he still longed to hide her away to keep her safe, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't seriously impressed and even a little… Christ, just remembering the way she looked in the midst of a fight was igniting the ever-present embers at the base of his spine.

A shrill, female scream broke his reverie and Edward took off towards the center of camp at a slightly-faster-than-human sprint (also one of her rules) to find a pair of gruff men he recognized as caravan guards violently attempting to silence the woman screaming. Not half a second later, Izzat appeared beside him with her spear, kaftan tied haphazardly by a light sash around the waist and hair wild about her unveiled face.

"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded of the men. "Explain yourselves now!"

"She was stealing food, arashshara," one of the guards roughly threw the crying woman into the sand like garbage.

The other guard quickly agreed, "Lucky we caught her when we did."

Edward narrowed his eyes as their lascivious thoughts immediately gave away their lies but he remained silent. His mate wanted no interference from him when doling out justice if it could be avoided, lest he undermine her authority.

Izzat knelt in front of the woman and put a hand on her shoulder, "What happened?" She asked quietly. "I doubt you tore your dress stealing food."

The disheveled woman sobbed into her hands, scrabbling away from the men and towards her leader, "They came into my tent. They tried to… Please, arashshara, I would never steal from you!"

Izzat's glare was sharp enough to kill and the men knew they had made a grave mistake in overestimating their usefulness. A crowd was gathering at the epicenter of camp as they backed away slightly, eyeing each other with fear when she began to advance on them, "You dare? After everything I have done for you, after I provided food, shelter, and paid work for you, you dare try to force yourselves on someone you swore to protect?" She caught Edward's eye and inclined her head towards the now rapidly retreating men.

Edward, having been given permission, used his vampire speed to catch the fleeing cowards and dragged them back before his mate, keeping them on their knees with his hands gripping their long hair.

"You have broken my trust and the trust of those you swore to protect," Izzat announced while raising her spear to their throats. "The punishment is death."

Everyone in the crowd murmured their agreement.

In one quick slash, the two guards fell in unison, lifeless before the fire – their blood now staining the sand.

She instructed some of the other guards to dispose of the bodies and reassured her people that they were safe to return to their beds. Edward followed her discreetly to her tent at the edge of camp, though he did not intrude on her privacy until the first tears fell. Her sorrow, her pain, was like a knife to his stomach and it was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

"Izzat," he murmured through the tent's fabric, "may I come in?"

There was no answer, which wasn't a 'no' so Edward took his chances and – after ensuring no one was watching – slipped into her tent silently. She was doubled over on her makeshift bed, face in her hands as she cried. He sat beside her and, unable to stop himself, pulled her into the circle of his arms, encouraged when she all but melted into his embrace.

"I cannot do this. I am not made for this life, Masen."

His heart broke as she fell to pieces before him so he rocked her slightly, staying silent so she wouldn't feel interrupted or judged.

"They were good men, I swear they were. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have put my women in danger like that? Those men could have… if you had not been here, if I had been too late…"

"Their choices aren't your fault," Edward assured her, brushing his lips against the crown of her head. "You couldn't have known they would break their word."

She pushed away from Edward violently, moving away from the bed to pace the tent like a caged animal while twisting her fingers in front of her, "They always do. It does not matter their station – all men are the same! They are all deceivers, promising the moon to get what they want and spitting at the feet of whoever assigns the retribution for breaking those promises." Izzat rounded on him with fire and tears burning in her eyes. "You think I cannot hear what they say about me? They do not respect me as their leader. Why would they? I am just a woman who happens to be swifter with a spear than most of them. I provide them with food, shelter, and coin but if they had their way, they would all attack me just as my guards nearly raped that woman tonight."

Edward ground his teeth because he knew she was right. Her men, most of them anyway, were vile and their thoughts were constantly filled with explicitly nauseating images of the ways in which they believed their leader's 'womanly talents' – flowery words for the body they drooled over in secret – could be put to better use than bossing them all around. He would have killed them for her, had she asked, but Izzat – his kind-hearted, caring Isabella – would never ask such a thing.

"I do not enjoy bloodshed," she continued, almost pleading with Edward unnecessarily to understand, "but if I do not keep them in line with an iron fist and unshakeable rules, they would come for me in the middle of the night."

"I know," he sighed. "And I know that you hate hurting people, but you did the right thing tonight, Izzat." Edward took her hands in his and pulled her closer to stop her pacing. "Many of their malicious thoughts were quelled at seeing you give those men no mercy."

"I have been where that woman was tonight," Izzat admittedly with a sniff, hanging her head in shame. "I have been helpless at the hands of others and I swore to myself that if I was ever in a position where I could prevent that, if I was ever able to defend others, I would. Spilling blood weighs heavily on my conscience every day but I would not take it back because I believe, with all of my heart, that it was the right choice. Does that make me a monster? That it weighs on me yet I do not regret killing them?"

And with that, his heart was thoroughly shattered. Edward threw caution to the wind and pulled her down to crush his lips to hers. Izzat hesitated for half a second before collapsing into his arms and slanting her mouth to deepen the kiss. Her fingers carded through his messy copper hair, gripping as she climbed onto his lap until she was a mass of limbs wound around his body like a little octopus… exactly as she had the night he'd carried her to bed after her girl's night with Esme, Rosalie, and Alice.

"You could never be a monster. You are a warrior, a protector," Edward panted against her mouth, fully allowing her to take control so she didn't feel pressured. "You are perfect, sweetheart."

The endearment had accidentally slipped through his lips and they both stopped to stare at each other, the loaded word hanging between them in the air.

"Izzat, I…"

She put her fingers on his mouth to stop him, "Since the moment I saw you in the sand, I felt this… this pull. Like something was drawing me to you, into your golden eyes. I thought you a sorcerer because, surely, you had bewitched me." Izzat bit her lip in the way Edward could literally draw from memory. "What is it you truly desire from me, Masen? I fear that whatever it is, I may be unable to resist."

"The truth?"

"Yes."

Edward cupped her face, thumb swiping across her cheek from muscle memory, "I only want your heart. Nothing else matters to me in this world other than that."

His only love, his treasured mate fell back into his embrace with a genuine smile and everything felt right. Her thick, dark hair even smelled of strawberries.

Izzat. Isabella.

My mate.

My love.

x-x-x

Something was wrong.

The traders, the laborers, the guards, the royalty. They were all coming down with the same illness. Many of them were fine in the morning but by nightfall, they were doubled over in pain, vomiting, sometimes bleeding and too weak to stand, with a raging fever and blackening fingers. Most, if lucky, were dead the next day.

"We must do something!" Izzat ground out, stamping her foot in true Bella-frustration. "At this rate, we will not have anyone left!"

"What do you suggest?" Edward asked from his contemplative place on their cotton sheets. He knew all too well what the illness was but was unsure if he should tell her, unsure if he should break her hope just yet.

"You are inhuman; can you not heal them?"

He shook his head, "My gift is not of the healing variety, you know that. I heal if injured, but can not do it to others. Even if I could, this disease spreads much too rapidly for something to cure it. There is not enough time to intervene before it kills."

She sighed as she fell into bed beside him, her head on his shoulder exactly as she used to, "I wish there was more we could do for them. They have all worked so hard for this. I have worked hard for this."

He pressed his lips to her smooth forehead and pulled her closer, "I know, sweetheart."

Izzat turned, gripping Edward's hair and yanking him so their lips could meet, "Help me to forget for tonight." She breathed, tongue slipping into his mouth. "Masen…"

With his human surname on her lips, he ripped the cumbersome kaftan from her body and ravaged every inch of her sun-kissed flesh with his glacial mouth and icy hands until they both collapsed with exhaustion.

x-x-x

She awoke in the middle of the night, retching with her arms clenched around her abdomen and sweating from the fever that gripped her. The tips of her toes were turning black.

Edward knew all too well what was coming, well-versed on the Black Death from his many years in various medical schools.

Izzat shivered as her temperature climbed and, moving in and out of consciousness, she murmured nonsensically about things she was seeing from the fever ravaging her failing body. He simply held her close, whispering comforting words and attempting to keep her cool with wet cloths and his own wintry skin. It was devastating to watch her losing her battle with the disease, but Edward was staunchly determined to do as Kair told him – he would give her what she needed to the best of his abilities in the hopes that the timestone would take him to see her again.

He would not fail her, ever again.

Just as he reached for another cold cloth from the water bucket beside their bed, Izzat weakly reached up to place her fingertips on his chin, "Edward…?"

His stone heart dropped firmly into his stomach and, though he didn't need to breathe, his breath caught in his throat at the familiar recognition in her eyes, "I'm here, Bella." He stroked her face reverently. "I'm here, sweetheart."

She smiled with glassy eyes, her words breathy and feeble, "Bella… that was my name. What h-happened? Where… where did I go?"

Edward barely stifled a sob as he kissed her damp forehead, "It's an extremely long and tedious story, love. I'll tell you about it in the morning, after you've had some rest. Okay?"

His mate nodded once, humming as she began to slip back into unconsciousness, "Mmkay. Love… you."

Eyes burning with tears he could never shed, Edward buried his face into the scorching flesh of her neck and cradled her close, "I love you too, Isabella."

Izzat did not awaken again and the timestone hidden in his pocket only waited long enough for her to be buried before spiriting Edward away once more.

x-x-x

1521

Aztec Empire, Mexico

The timestone deposited him rather unceremoniously on his back again, though this time there was no sand to cushion the landing but rather hard blocks of stone. The only light illuminating the chamber was from torches lit against the stone walls and, though there were four large windows – one on each side of the tall structure – only meager beams of moon and starlight filtered through. He could hear sounds of animal life teeming within the surrounding rainforest and the humidity was stifling, even for a vampire.

"I have never had my prayers answered quite so literally before."

Edward sat up at the sound of her unmistakable voice, the same yet sounding minutely different when speaking Nahuatl.

Bella was slightly different again, but it was still undeniably her and his soul rejoiced.

Her hair was a deep, rich blanket of black silk that billowed away from her face like ghostly waves in the torchlight and her skin was several shades darker than it had been in Forks and even in Persia. Her eyes were such an intense chocolate-brown that they almost appeared black as they gazed at him from her perch on the ornate bed across the room. She wore a circular chest-piece reminiscent of flames from her neck of yellow, red, orange, and black that reached just below the bottom curve of her breasts along with large, intricately carved golden discs infused with blood red stones in her ears. The top ¾ of her face was painted white and her eyes were darkened with large black smudges that almost reached her eyebrows, like a skull. Edward's eyes tracked down her bare abdomen to see that there was a woven gold belt around the slope of her hips, the rectangular loincloth covering her lower half matching the burning colors and fiery designs of her chest-piece. She was barefoot, but her hands and feet were a rich scarlet with the tip of her fingers and toes whiter than fresh snow.

She was absolutely stunning in this sacred form. Though, wasn't she always the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen?

Edward let his instincts guide him and he moved to bow on the floor before her, "Forgive me for my intrusion on your sanctuary, Goddess."

"There is nothing to forgive," she assured him with a bright smile. "I am the one who asked for you, and here you are!"

He looked up, brow furrowed, "You asked for me?"

Bella nodded and gestured to the magnificent stone surrounding them, "The humans have built me a temple-pyramid, but I cannot begin to answer their prayers without a conduit. Conduits appear as human except for their golden eyes and shimmering, hardened skin." Her eyes flicked downwards and it was then that he noticed he was wearing only a traditional maxtlatl around his hips and groin and the bare skin of his chest, arms, and legs glittered faintly like diamond facets under the torchlight. Apparently, the timestone was very thorough. "Are you… not the one I asked for?"

Edward was beginning to understand; she may be a powerful Goddess but even her powers had their limits – that must be why he was brought here. He inclined his head, willing to be whatever she needed to remain close to her, to heal the broken pieces of her soul, "I am. I can read minds, Goddess, and I will happily be your conduit."

She cocked her head to the side, intrigued, "Can you read mine?"

"No," he chuckled softly. "I am not so lucky."

One of her eyebrows raised before she let out an amused laugh; it was the same laugh he remembered from so many, many years ago, "Insolent; I like that. What should I call you?"

"Cullen," Edward supplied, confident now that it was the correct course of action. Should she remember him, just as Izzat had, she would call him by his true name and he would know for sure. "You may call me whatever you wish, but most call me Cullen."

"Cullen…" The way she purred his family name sent ripples of lightning across the synapses in his brain. With every incarnation of her, he noticed that the bond between them grew more impatient. "Thank you for being the answer to my time of need, Cullen. I am Itzpapalotl, the Goddess of Revenge and I am pleased to have you in my service."

He couldn't stifle the heat in his gaze, "I assure, Goddess, the pleasure is mine."

Anything for you, Bella.

Anything to bring you home.

x-x-x

It was difficult to keep track of time, not only because of where they were, but because he was so devoted to his mate – his Goddess, his Bella – that Edward had little need for anything else as the days turned into weeks.

In the lower, larger part of the temple-pyramid was a space exclusively for the humans, priests and otherwise, to worship and pray while the very top was Itzpapalotl's private bedroom, where anyone but she and her conduit were forbidden to tread. Between the two extremes was a small, 6x6 sacred space containing nothing more than a few torches, some cushions for the floor, and a rack that held Itzpapalotl's battle armor; that ceremonial room was where they spent much of their time together as Edward listened to the thoughts and words of the humans below them, relating them to his mate with soft whispers in her ear.

So far, the area surrounding the temple had been calm and prayers of the humans had been simple enough to sift through – many of them had presented petty requests for retribution that were manageable on their own without the interference of a Goddess, minus one or two occasions where they were called to avenge the unjust death of a loved one due to warring family squabbles. And, same as always, nothing mattered to his love more than fairness and justice, which was highly ironic as the local stories surrounding Itzpapalotl were that she was a bloodthirsty, seductive omen of death, interested in nothing more than killing men to grow her own power.

Her own people were so wrong about her, it was almost laughable.

Bella – Itzpapalotl – took her duties extremely seriously and did not relish at all in the blood that inevitably stained her hands. In fact, she actively avoided it at every available opportunity, often choosing less lethal forms of retribution to appease the prayers that warranted her assistance.

That was, until now.

Edward's eyes snapped open at the distressed women currently in the temple proper, desolately weeping her prayers to them and presenting handfuls of cacao beans, copper coins, and wads of cotton cloth as offerings.

Please, she wept towards the sky. Please, help me Goddess. They came in the night and stole my children! My girls are not yet married and my boys are training to be warriors, to defend our land and pay homage to you and the other Gods. Please Goddess, they are all I have left in this world. Please, help me.

He quickly relayed this information to Itzpapalotl and could see in her inky, narrowed eyes that this one, she would go to war for. She quickly donned her armor – a yellow, red, and black feathered headpiece and brilliant amber butterfly wings tipped with razor-sharp blades of obsidian that melded into the curve of her spine like a second skin. A quick flex of her white fingers and her nails were elongated into lethal, honed claws.

"Come, Cullen," she commanded, death already waiting to be doled out from her hands. "She needs us."

Edward bowed and followed her from the ceremonial room without hesitation, "Yes, my Goddess."

x-x-x

It had been a massacre.

Upon reaching the village of the men who had stolen the woman's children, Edward had known that not all of them would be able to be saved. The large, bloodied steps of the sacrificial temple in the epicenter of the village seemed to mock them as they moved among the awestruck humans, half of which ran for cover while the remaining half fell to their knees in reverence and fear.

Their chaotic thoughts confirmed it was their first time seeing a true Goddess and, what they assumed Edward to be, her God.

Itzpapalotl flexed her clenching fists in anticipation as they approached the sacrificial temple, ready to cut anyone and everyone down to bring the woman's children back to her. Everything had happened swiftly once the village elders brought out the woman's daughters, bruised and battered, in chains in preparation for being sold or enslaved and the sacrificial priest confirmed the death of both stolen boys by way of showing her their mutilated bodies.

Per his mate's instruction, Edward quickly led the chained girls away from the impending doom, to a short distance where he could still see and hear what was happening but the others would be safe from injury, as his love passed her final judgment.

Please, Goddess! They were a gift, the priest had pleaded. A gift for the Gods and Goddess of our land.

In order for them to be a gift, they must be willing, his mate had snarled. How can they be willing sacrifices if they were stolen from their home in a neighboring village? And the girls? Why did you take them as well?

The priest had looked to his men but they were prostrated before her feet already, I… please, Goddess. Have mercy! There was no one willing left in our village and all of our women were already taken. We all agreed that there was no other choice.

Just as I now have no choice, the sheer savagery that danced in her eyes, the wrath he could feel pulsing off of her in waves like a deadly perfume was enough to shake even Edward for a moment for it reminded him of his own vigilante days past of hunting down murderers and rapists. He knew all too well the dichotomy she would face within – the horror and guilt of murder caught in an unending dance with the sense of rightness from ridding the world of someone so utterly dishonorable. Itzpapalotl poised herself for combat. There will be no mercy from me today.

With an unholy, hellish bellow, Itzpapalotl unleashed her tightly controlled rage and razed the village to the ground in a vicious show of vengeance the likes of which he'd not yet seen from her in any life. Once it was done and everyone was dead, she came to them, panting as she instructed him to return the girls to their home along with a set of bloodied necklaces that she'd taken from their brother's bodies.

Edward had done exactly as she had asked and, once the girls and the necklaces were safe with their mother, returned swiftly to the temple, to the Goddess's side where he was certain she would need comfort, for she did not revel in the violence that was sometimes required of her and even less brutal days made her seek shelter in the safety of his body.

That was how now he found himself, sprawled naked across her opulent bed at the apex of her stone temple, enjoying her enthusiastic attentions quite thoroughly under the light of the torches and the moon.

"Cullen," she purred, rubbing her nose like a cat against the copper hair leading in a trial down to his groin. His bright golden eyes peered down as he hungrily devoured the sight of her.

"My sweet Itzpapalotl," he crooned breathlessly, winding his long fingers through her midnight tresses that, even now, floated around her head as if suspended in water. "Why do you tease me so?"

"It helps me forget," she blinked sadly up at him. "Being with you like this, for as long as I can make it last, helps me to forget what a monster I am for a little while."

The pads of his fingers danced across her lovely cheek, an ache firmly lodged in his chest, "I know it must be difficult, what you were made to do, but it weighs on you so heavily because you are kind, and just, and good. You answer the prayers of those who cannot protect themselves or those they love, you answer the prayers of those who truly need you. That is what matters, Itzpapalotl, not how the prayers are answered. You could never be a monster, love."

Tears glistened in her eyes, her fingers on his bare thighs, "I am not supposed to want things. My life is meant to serve others, not to want…" She bit her lip. "You are turning me into something I was not meant to be."

"I disagree," Edward sat up to kiss her swiftly but firmly. "You are exactly who you were meant to be. But say the word and I will leave. Send me away, Goddess, if you must."

"Never," she nipped his inner thigh with her teeth as she pushed him back to lay on the bed. "I could never."

x-x-x

He was stroking her hair in the dark, peppering kisses across her puckered brow and down her cheeks, when Itzpapalotl pulled at his face so he would stop to look at her.

"Something is coming, dearest. Do you feel it?"

Edward nodded. He certainly did – he'd been feeling it in the air for weeks now. They all had; even her people's thoughts grew increasingly uneasy.

"I fear…" She bit her lip in the way that was now custom for her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I fear our time together may be coming to an end."

That, too, he could feel. Kair had told him he would keep her when he was worthy and he knew that this time, it was not yet meant to be. He would be forced to wait for her once more.

But he would. He always, always would.

His soul demanded as much.

"I am certain of it," Edward rested his head against her bare chest, relishing in the sound of her heart. "But why does that mean you should feel sadness? Surely, you must know we will meet again in another life."

"Can you promise me?" Itzpapalotl wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders tightly and nuzzled into his wild hair. "That we will find one another again?"

Edward looked up at his mate, at the woman he had traveled and would continue to travel so far for, and his smile was blinding even in the all-encompassing darkness that was only broken by scant moonbeams filtering through the stone. Hope filled his heart and, for the first time, it felt right, "Always."

x-x-x

The Spanish – Cortés and his men – were invading her lands and much like Izzat, much like Isabella, Itzpapalotl was bound and determined to protect the people who needed her. She donned the battle armor from the ceremonial room and readied her claws when Edward caught her arm.

"Be safe," he urged, desperately repeating Kair's words in his head so he wouldn't jeopardize his chances of seeing her again by begging her not to go. "Save as many as you can."

"I will," her eyes flitted between his, something like recognition flaring deep within. "You will find me again… won't you, Edward?"

Once again, Bella remembered him in the end. They embraced tightly for a long moment, his hand cupping the back of her head and her hands bunched against the bare skin of his back as they breathed each other in. "I will always find you, Bella," his voice broke on her name. "I will keep finding you until I bring you back to Forks."

"Good, because I'm ready to go home."

A few more hungry, impetuous kisses were exchanged between them, teeth clacking together and claws leaving shallow gouges in marble skin, before Bella finally pulled away.

"I love you, Edward."

Edward held her face, pressing his lips to her eyes and her nose before ending on her forehead, "I love you. Now, go. I'll see you soon."

With that, his mate: Isabella – his Goddess: Itzpapalotl – disappeared from the temple and into the midst of the burgeoning war.

She did not return to the temple and the next morning, the timestone nestled safely in his maxtlatl heaved Edward through time again.