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Dazed and disoriented, I looked up from the bright red blood pulsing out of my arm—into the fevered eyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.
“I’d rather die than be with Mike Newton,” I protested. “I’d rather die than be with anyone but you.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, please.”
Alright sassy king💅🏽
It was his music, his compositions. The first piece on the CD was my lullaby.
“Carlisle told me about that, and I don’t care, Edward. I don’t care! You can have my soul. I don’t want it without you—it’s yours already!”
“Bella, I don’t want you to come with me.” He spoke the words slowly and precisely, his cold eyes on my face, watching as I absorbed what he was really saying.
TIME PASSES. EVEN WHEN IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE. EVEN WHEN each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.
Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder I was so eager to see him.
“Five foot four is perfectly average.” I sniffed. “It’s not my fault you’re a freak.”
One thing I truly knew—knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest—was how love gave someone the power to break you.
Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore.
Love is irrational, I reminded myself. The more you loved someone, the less sense anything made.
Goodbye, I love you, was my last thought.
I’d forgotten how hard she was; it was like running headlong into a wall of cement.
“My name was Mary Alice Brandon,” she told me quietly. “I had a little sister named Cynthia. Her daughter—my niece—is still alive in Biloxi.”
“My birth was announced… and my death. I found my grave. I also filched my admissions sheet from the old asylum archives. The date on the admission and the date on my tombstone are the same.”
And the last seven months meant nothing. And his words in the forest meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me. I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I lived.
At least I could be with him again before I died. That was better than a long life.
“They have a name for someone who smells the way Bella does to me. They call her my singer—because her blood sings for me.”
After all, how many ways can one heart be mangled and still be expected to keep beating?
“Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars—points of light and reason.… And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn’t see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything.”
“Let me explain,” she pleaded. “I don’t mean that I have any aversion to you as a sister. It’s just that… this is not the life I would have chosen for myself. I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me.”
Rosalie☹️
