So how about that? Was okay, needs improvement? I don't know anyways continuing on with this lovely story of mine.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Twilight characters only Stephanie Meyer does…
Izzy POV
The rumble of her motorcycle beneath her was a steady rhythm, a counterpoint to the swirling thoughts in Izzy's head. As she navigated the morning traffic, her mind drifted back, replaying the fragmented memories that led her to where she was today. It was like trying to piece together a shattered mirror, the reflections distorted and incomplete.
Years ago, she'd been just Isabella, a normal teenager navigating the awkward terrain of high school. One night, a party, too much cheap beer, and a decision to call it a night early. She'd told her friends she was heading home, promising to see them the next day. Taking a shortcut through an alley seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't.
The feeling of being watched had crept up on her slowly, a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She'd quickened her pace, her footsteps echoing in the narrow passage. Deciding to take an unfamiliar turn, she'd tried to shake off the feeling, telling herself she was just being paranoid. For a moment, it had worked. The feeling had subsided, lulling her into a false sense of security. Then, she'd heard it – the crunch of gravel beneath someone's feet.
Turning around, she'd come face to face with… the most beautiful person she'd ever seen. And that was where the memories fractured, dissolving into a hazy fog. She couldn't remember anything about her sire, not their face, not their voice, not even the circumstances of her turning. It was a gaping hole in her past, a void that both intrigued and unsettled her.
Izzy stopped at a red light, the city noises fading into the background as she continued her mental reconstruction project. She *did* know some things. She had a heartbeat, a normal one, and her body temperature was only slightly elevated. From the moment she'd first shifted into her wolf form, a magnificent russet creature, to the first time she'd felt the unsettling pull of bloodlust, she'd meticulously documented everything. It was a scientific approach to her own existence, a way to understand the strange alchemy that had transformed her.
The bloodlust was manageable, thankfully. She only needed to feed every three weeks, a far cry from the constant cravings she'd heard whispered about in hushed tones. And she was strong, stronger than any vampire or shifter she'd ever encountered. Her body healed at an accelerated rate, injuries closing in the blink of an eye. She couldn't be killed, not permanently, at least not by anything she'd encountered so far. It was a strange and unsettling gift, this invulnerability.
Then, there were the Volturi. Those creepy old fucks. She'd met them once, a tense, terrifying encounter. She'd had to argue for her right to exist, laying out her case with a ferocity she hadn't known she possessed. She'd convinced them, somehow, that she wasn't a threat, that she just wanted to be left alone. They'd agreed, or at least they'd said they had. But Izzy knew better than to trust them. They were always watching, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a reason to… what? She didn't even want to think about it.
The light changed, and Izzy revved her engine, pulling back into the flow of traffic. The memories were a constant weight, a reminder of the life she no longer understood. But they were also a source of strength. They were her history, however fragmented, and they had made her who she was. A hybrid, a shapeshifter, a survivor. And as she headed towards Forks High School, she knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them with the same resilience that had brought her this far.
The rumble of Izzy's motorcycle echoed through the almost-empty parking lot of Forks High School, drawing the attention of the few early-bird students milling around. As she pulled into a parking space, Damon smoothly parked the BMW next to her. Her family piled out, waiting patiently as Izzy cut the engine, the silence punctuated by the click of cooling metal. She removed her helmet, shaking her hair out in a cascade of russet waves. She could feel the eyes of the small crowd on them, their breaths hitching as they took in the sight of the newcomers arriving a month into the school year.
Before turning to face them, Izzy slipped on her dark shades, effectively masking the color of her eyes. She dismounted her bike, a smooth, fluid movement that spoke of confidence. Glancing at her phone, she saw 6:50 am. Then, a quick check of her watch confirmed it: 6:25 am. A groan escaped her lips. She turned to face Alex, her eyes narrowing into a playful glare. Alex, sensing the impending storm, quickly ducked behind Mark, who chuckled at her predicament.
Izzy sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Damon," she said, her voice laced with exasperation, "you're in charge of time management from now on. *Especially* when it comes to school."
Damon shook his head, a smile playing on his lips as he looked from Izzy to Alex. He put an arm around Izzy's waist, pulling her close for a quick, tender kiss. "It can't be *that* bad," he murmured against her lips, "even if we are a bit early."
"Easy for you to say," Izzy retorted, leaning into him. "You haven't had to go through high school twenty times."
They stood there for a moment, a small island of calm amidst the growing activity of the parking lot. Damon's arm flexed around Izzy's waist, his head dipping slightly as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo and conditioner. The smell of human blood was still a challenge for him, even after all this time. Izzy patted his chest reassuringly, leaning against him as Alex, Mark, and Jack chattered animatedly about their schedules, comparing classes and teachers.
Then, Izzy took a deep breath, and her world shifted. A scent, something wonderful, something… *intoxicating*, drifted on the breeze. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit her like a tidal wave. Her wolf side stirred, a low growl rumbling in her chest. Her vampire side, usually so controlled, felt a jolt of… something. Not bloodlust, not exactly. It was more like… recognition. A connection. A sense of… *rightness*. It was a scent that calmed the frenzied energy within her, a siren's call that resonated deep within her soul. She didn't know what it was, but she knew, with absolute certainty, that her life was about to change.
Izzy's nose twitched, her senses on high alert. The wonderful scent, the one that had sent her inner wolf and vampire into a state of near-euphoric calm, was still there, a beacon in the sea of mundane smells. It was like trying to capture a fleeting melody, a whisper of something extraordinary. She inhaled deeply, focusing all her attention on isolating the individual notes that made up this intoxicating aroma. It took only a second, but it felt like an eternity, a moment suspended in time.
And then, her eyes found the source.
Standing amidst a small group of people was the most beautiful, pixie-like female Izzy had ever seen. *Ever*. Izzy wasn't straight, not by a long shot. Her relationship with Damon was… complicated. They weren't officially "together." Their arrangement was born out of necessity. Izzy's overpowering earthy scents and alpha presence helped Damon mask the tantalizing scent of humans, a constant battle for him. And Damon, in turn, kept the overly enthusiastic hopefuls – both human and supernatural – away from Izzy. It was easier to hide their secrets that way, a mutually beneficial partnership forged in the shadows.
But this… this was different.
The pixie was surrounded by four other individuals. They all shared the same striking golden eyes, the telltale sign of vampires who abstained from human blood. They also shared a peculiar scent – an underlying note of… bleach? Yet, beneath the similarity, each had their own distinct aroma. There were two blondes, a male and a female who could easily pass as twins. There was a tall, lanky bronze-haired guy who radiated an aura of brooding intensity. And there was a tall, muscular guy with a dimpled smile that seemed at odds with the predatory gleam in his eyes.
But it was the pixie who held Izzy captive. Her delicate stature, her graceful movements, the way she held herself like a dancer on the verge of a pirouette. Her hair, a cascade of shimmering… something. Izzy couldn't even pinpoint the color. And those eyes, those *golden* eyes… Her voice, when she spoke, was like a beautiful symphony, a melody that resonated deep within Izzy's soul.
The only thought that formed in Izzy's mind, echoing from both her wolf and vampire halves, was a single, powerful word: *Mate*.
Izzy was so engrossed in the vision before her that she didn't even hear the school bell ring. It wasn't until Alex called out to her, her voice laced with concern, that Izzy was pulled back to reality. Damon, Alex, Mark, and Jack were all staring at her, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and worry.
Izzy blinked, a small, slightly dazed smile touching her lips. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I just… got lost in thought." She reached out and took Damon's hand, pulling him towards the school building. "Come on," she said, her voice regaining its usual playful edge. "We're going to be late for our shared class with the juniors." As they walked, she couldn't shake the image of the pixie from her mind. The scent, the eyes, the feeling… *mate*. It was all swirling within her, a potent cocktail of confusion, excitement, and a touch of fear.
Izzy moved through the school day in a daze, Damon a constant presence by her side. Class after class blurred into a meaningless drone of words and diagrams. For the first time in years, she couldn't recall a single thing the teachers had said. Her mind was a fog, her thoughts consumed by the intoxicating scent and the image of the pixie.
It wasn't until the class just before lunch, a class where Damon had a free period while she didn't, that she saw her again. Izzy was in art class, having chosen a seat near the back window. It gave her a vantage point to keep an eye out for Damon, who was taking advantage of his free time to let his wolf run in the nearby forest. She could hear him in her mind, the playful yips and the rhythmic thud of paws on the forest floor a soothing background hum to her chaotic thoughts.
Izzy smiled, glancing at her phone as she texted in the family group chat. Suddenly, the familiar scent drifted into the room, stronger now, more defined. The beasts within her both rumbled with contentment. Izzy's eyes snapped open, her senses on high alert. The scent was drawing closer… and then, she was there. Sat right beside her.
Izzy felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. This was it. The moment she had been subconsciously dreading and anticipating all day. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, and slowly turned her head. The pixie was staring at her, her golden eyes filled with curiosity, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Izzy swore her heart stopped beating.
She forced herself to breathe, to regain some semblance of composure. She managed a small smile in return. The pixie then introduced herself, her voice like the tinkling of wind chimes. "Hi. I'm Alice Cullen."
"Izzy Swan," she replied, her voice a little rougher than she intended. She extended a hand, palm up.
Alice took it, her fingers brushing against Izzy's. A jolt, like static electricity, shot through Izzy's arm. It was a small thing, barely noticeable, but it sent another shiver down her spine.
"So," Alice said, her eyes sparkling with interest. "You're new here. What brings you to Forks?"
Izzy chuckled, trying to play it cool. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked.
Alice tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Izzy laughed again. "My family loves to camp," she explained, "and we love the rain. Seemed like a good choice."
Alice's eyes widened in surprise, then she burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Most people who move here can't stand how much it rains."
"Guess that's what makes me different," Izzy replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "Probably a good thing I'm not most people." She turned to face the front of the classroom as the teacher began to speak, but her mind was still racing. Alice Cullen. *Mate*. The words echoed in her head, a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. This was going to be interesting.
"Alright, class," the art teacher announced, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Today, we're going to be working on portraiture. But with a twist! Instead of simply capturing your partner's physical likeness, I want you to try and convey their personality, their experiences, their *life* in your drawing. Think about what makes them unique. What are their passions? Their fears? Their dreams?" She paused, letting the information sink in. "Now, find your partners and get started. And remember," she added, glancing at Izzy, "if you're new to this, just follow along. Don't hesitate to ask your partner for guidance or come see me after class if you have any questions."
Izzy nodded her thanks, pulling out a composition pad and a pencil. She turned to Alice, who was already staring at her, a soft smile playing on her lips. Izzy's heart skipped a beat. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed, a breath escaping her lips. She watched as Alice took a deep breath, her eyes seeming to darken for a moment. Then, Alice closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and opened them again, revealing their usual bright gold.
"So," Izzy began, trying to sound casual, "tell me about yourself. What makes Alice Cullen tick?"
Alice's smile widened. "Where do I start?" she said, a playful glint in her eyes. "I love… well, I love a lot of things. Music, art, fast cars, shopping… I'm a bit of a magpie, I suppose. I'm drawn to anything shiny and interesting." She paused, considering. "I'm also fiercely loyal to my family. They're… everything to me."
Izzy nodded, sketching lightly on her pad. "And what about dislikes? Pet peeves?"
"Hmm," Alice mused. "I hate being underestimated. I also can't stand slow drivers. And I have a serious aversion to beige. It's just so… dull."
The questions flowed back and forth, easy and natural. Izzy asked about Alice's family, how she felt about them, what their dynamics were like. Alice answered honestly, her expressions shifting as she spoke, giving Izzy plenty to capture in her drawing.
Then, the tables turned. Alice asked Izzy about her life, her family, her passions. Izzy found herself opening up to Alice in a way she hadn't expected. There was something about the pixie's open, accepting demeanor that put her at ease.
The conversation took a turn, the questions becoming more playful, laced with a subtle flirtation. They laughed, their voices low, sharing secrets and whispered jokes. Izzy felt a sense of connection with Alice, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. It was comfortable, easy. She felt… seen. Alice seemed to understand her, to see past the facade she usually presented to the world. And it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. As she sketched, Izzy found herself capturing not just Alice's physical features, but also the sparkle in her eyes, the quicksilver changes in her expressions, the essence of the vibrant, captivating personality that shone through. She was drawing Alice, but she was also drawing something more. She was drawing the beginning of something… significant.
A new updated and rewritten chapter. Hopefully it is better than the previous one. Till next time!