This work is an unofficial, transformative fan adaptation inspired by Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. All core characters, settings, and original story elements from the Twilight universe are the creation and intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer, and are used here with deep respect and gratitude for her imagination and storytelling. This book is not endorsed by, affiliated with, or sponsored by Stephenie Meyer, her publishers, or any rights holders; it exists solely as a fan-made tribute to the world and characters she created.

Preface – vampire love romance

I had rarely considered how my life might end—though the preceding months had offered ample opportunity—but I certainly hadn’t imagined it like this. Gazing across the vast room into the hunter’s obsidian eyes, he smiled pleasantly back at me. Dying in the place of someone I loved seemed like a noble way to go, surely that counted for something.

Although terrified, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the decision to come to Forks. When life gives you a dream that far exceeds your expectations, it’s unreasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.

The hunter smiled amiably as he strolled forward to kill me.

First Sight – vampire love romance

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows down, the seventy-five-degree heat of Phoenix streaming in beneath a flawless blue sky. I wore my favourite sleeveless lace top as a final gesture to the sun.

In the north-west corner of Washington State, beneath a near-permanent shroud of rain and cloud, lies the inconsequential town of Forks. It was from this damp obscurity that my mother had escaped with me as a baby, and it was here I was now compelled to return.

I loved Phoenix. I loved the blistering heat, the sunburnt landscape. But I was exiling myself to Forks so that my mother, Renée, could travel freely with her new husband, Phil—a minor league baseball player. “You don’t have to do this,” she told me, but I lied and said I wanted to.

The journey involved a four-hour flight to Seattle, a small plane to Port Angeles, and finally an hour’s drive with my father, Charlie. Charlie is the Chief of Police in Forks. We’re both quiet by nature, so the drive was awkward, though I could tell he was genuinely pleased to have me. When we arrived, it was raining.

Charlie had a homecoming present waiting for me: a truck he’d bought from his friend, Billy Black. It was a faded red Chevrolet, probably from the sixties, with a rounded cab and solid iron fenders. To my surprise, I loved it at once. It was reliable, sturdy—something that would keep me from having to ride around in the Chief’s cruiser.

I unpacked in my old bedroom, which hadn’t changed much since I was a child. Charlie left me to it, which I appreciated—it gave me a chance to stare glumly out at the rain and cry. I was anxious about fitting in at Forks High School, which had only three hundred and fifty-eight students. I was pale as a ghost, clumsy, and painfully out of place—not exactly what one might expect from a girl who’d grown up in Arizona.

The next morning, the world outside was lost in dense fog. Breakfast with Charlie was quiet, and I drove my roaring truck to school. The campus looked less like a school and more like a collection of matching brick cottages scattered among the trees. In the front office, a red-haired receptionist named Ms Cope gave me my timetable and a map, clearly aware that I was the Chief’s daughter.

My first class was English. A boy named Eric introduced himself and offered to show me to my next class. He made a few comments about the weather and my complete lack of a tan. The rest of the morning passed with various students introducing themselves, including a small girl with curly hair named Jessica, who invited me to sit with her at lunch.

It was in the cafeteria that I first saw them.

Five students sat together at a table in the far corner, each of them devastatingly, unnaturally beautiful. They didn’t eat. They didn’t speak. Their skin was pale as alabaster, with deep shadows beneath their eyes. Jessica explained they were Dr Cullen’s adopted children: Emmett, tall and burly; Rosalie, striking and statuesque; Jasper, lean and blond; Alice, pixie-like and graceful; and Edward, who had tousled bronze hair and an unreadable expression. Jessica implied that the doctor and his wife were a bit odd for adopting so many teenagers.

As I watched them, the youngest—Edward—glanced up and locked eyes with me. His expression was one of intense frustration. Jessica noted casually that Edward didn’t date.

Later, in Biology, the only empty seat was beside Edward Cullen. As I approached, he stiffened, glaring at me as though I were some kind of threat. Throughout the lesson, he leaned as far away from me as possible, his hand clenched into a fist.

Confused, I discreetly sniffed my hair. It smelt like strawberries.

As soon as the bell rang, Edward bolted from the room.

After class, a friendly boy named Mike Newton walked me to Gym. He commented on Edward’s strange behaviour, saying it looked like he’d been in actual pain. At the end of the day, I stopped by the office and found Edward there, arguing with the receptionist. He was trying to transfer out of our Biology class.

The moment he noticed me, he fell silent, fixed me with a glare of icy hatred, and then turned and left.

I drove home to Charlie’s, trying not to cry—utterly bewildered by the intense loathing of a boy I had never even met.

Phenomenon – vampire love romance

The morning brought a striking transformation. The ever-present fog had vanished, replaced by a pristine blanket of snow and a fine glaze of ice that coated every surface—the trees, the rooftops, the roads. Light glittered across the frozen landscape like powdered glass, dazzling and treacherous. Despite the icy conditions, I found myself unreasonably eager to get to school.

I knew exactly why.
Edward Cullen.
The thought made me scowl at myself.

When I stepped outside, I discovered my truck already fitted with snow chains. Charlie must have gone out early to do it before leaving for work. He hadn’t said a word about it, but the quiet thoughtfulness of the gesture stayed with me as I drove.

The school car park was chaotic—snow piled along the edges, patches of black ice lurking beneath the tyres. I parked and climbed out, boots crunching in the frozen slush. That’s when it happened.

A sharp, metallic screech cut through the air.

I looked up.

Tyler Crowley’s van was careening out of control, tyres locked as it skidded across the ice. The vehicle spun, tipping onto two wheels, its back end swinging directly towards me. There was no time to move.

But in that suspended second—where time both fractured and sharpened—I saw Edward Cullen. He was standing across the car park, at least four vehicles away. Our eyes locked. His expression was one of sheer panic.

Then he was no longer across the car park.
He was in front of me.

One hand slammed into the side of the van, halting its lethal momentum with a thunderous crunch. The metal groaned as it caved beneath his grip, crumpling inward like paper. With his other arm, he wrapped himself around me, shielding me as the van impacted.

We hit the ground. Or rather, he hit the ground, and I landed atop him. There was no pain—only the wind knocked from my lungs, the cold seeping through my clothes, and the impossible realisation that I was alive.

The silence broke with a wave of shouting. Students and teachers rushed over in a blur of voices and panic. Tyler, wide-eyed and trembling, stumbled from the driver’s seat. Edward’s arms were still around me.

“You alright?”

he asked quietly, breath steady, voice impossibly calm.

I stared up at him, completely stunned.

“You… were across the car park.”

He didn’t answer.

In minutes, paramedics arrived. Edward and I were ushered into separate ambulances, despite my insistence that I was fine. I caught sight of the van—it bore the clear imprint of Edward’s hand, a deep, palm-shaped dent in the metal panel that should have crushed me.

At the hospital, the fluorescent lighting and sterile smell made everything seem even more surreal. I was ushered into a room and examined, though aside from a few bruises, I was unharmed. Tyler sat in a wheelchair nearby, still apologising incessantly.

“I swear, I didn’t see you,”

he said for the fifth time.

“I tried to brake—”

“It’s fine,”

I muttered, though I wasn’t listening. My mind was elsewhere.
On him.

Moments later, Dr Carlisle Cullen entered the room. He was impossibly handsome, like something from a classic film—tall, fair-haired, with a face that could have been carved from marble. His expression was serene, his voice kind as he reassured both Tyler and me.

“You’re both extremely lucky,”

he said.

“It could have been much worse.”

Lucky.
I didn’t feel lucky.
I felt shaken. Confused. Suspicious.

When I saw Edward again, it was in the hallway outside the exam rooms. He was leaning against a wall, arms folded, looking exactly as he had at school—not a hair out of place, no mark on him at all.

I cornered him immediately.

“You want to tell me what really happened?”

I demanded, keeping my voice low.

He stared at me, eyes unreadable.

“I was right next to you. You hit your head.”

“No,”

I snapped.

“You were across the car park. I saw you. Everyone saw you.”

“Bella,”

he said slowly, with infuriating calm,

“no one will believe you.”

“I don’t need anyone to believe me,”

I retorted.

“I know what I saw.”

His jaw clenched, frustration flickering in his eyes.

“You think you hit your head—but you’re confused. You’re welcome to your theories, but I’m not going to confirm them.”

“You stopped that van,”

I said.

“You pushed it away. With your hand.”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re not going to drop it.”

“No.”

He stared at me, exasperated.

“Then I hope you enjoy disappointment.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing there, breathless with fury and confusion.

That night, after calling my mother to assure her everything was fine—glossing over the details and insisting there was no concussion—I finally allowed myself to collapse into bed.

Sleep came fitfully, uneasy and tangled.
And for the first time since arriving in Forks,
I dreamed of Edward Cullen.

Invitations – vampire love romance

My nights became haunted by a recurring dream: Edward Cullen walking away from me, vanishing into an endless darkness. No matter how I ran or shouted, he never turned. I never caught up.

In waking life, the month following the accident was thick with tension. At school, Tyler Crowley hovered around me constantly, desperate to apologise for nearly killing me. Meanwhile, Edward—and the entire Cullen family—resumed their campaign of total silence. In Biology, he sat beside me without a word, without even a glance, as though I simply didn’t exist. Yet I watched him from the corner of my eye, noting how his irises darkened by the day, shifting from golden to almost coal-black.

The halls of Forks High began to buzz with talk of the upcoming spring dance—a girls’ choice event. Jessica asked Mike Newton if he would go with her, and though he didn’t decline, he also didn’t accept. Instead, he came to me later, casually wondering if I had any plans to ask someone. I lied, saying I had made arrangements to be in Seattle that Saturday, hoping to avoid the whole thing entirely. He looked faintly disappointed, but eventually agreed to go with Jessica.

Still, I felt guilty.

The days passed in silence until, finally, Edward spoke. It was in Biology, his voice low and frustrated.

“Bella,”

he said.

“I’m sorry.”

I looked up, startled.

“I’m being very rude, I know. But it’s better this way, really.”

“Better if we’re not friends?”

I asked, my voice rising.

He nodded once.

“Believe me.”

I stared at him, angry and confused.

“Do you regret saving my life?”

He flinched slightly.

“I don’t know what you think you saw.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hesitated, eyes stormy.

“No, I don’t regret it. But you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In my rush to escape, I tripped, sending my books clattering across the floor. He was immediately beside me, helping me gather them. I snatched them from his hands and stalked off without a word, furious.

After class, I found Eric leaning against my truck, blushing. He asked if I’d go to the spring dance with him. I repeated my Seattle excuse—he seemed let down, but accepted it.

As I was about to leave, a familiar silver Volvo pulled into place and cut me off, blocking my path. I glared at it, waiting while the Cullens climbed in. I didn’t realise someone was approaching until a knock on the window made me jump.

It was Tyler.

“Hey, Bella,”

he said cheerfully.

“So… I was thinking—since Mike said no—maybe you’d go to the dance with me?”

I stared at him.

“I’m going to Seattle that day, Tyler.”

“Oh,”

he blinked.

“Right. You’re not just… saying that to let me down easy?”

“No,”

I said firmly.

As he walked away, I caught a glimpse of Edward Cullen in the Volvo. He was doubled over in the driver’s seat, shaking with laughter.

That night, over dinner, I laid the groundwork for my Seattle cover story. Charlie was sceptical about the idea of my old truck making the journey, but I reassured him and promised to check the weather. He didn’t argue.

The next morning, I parked at the far end of the lot to avoid Edward, but he appeared out of nowhere as I fumbled with my keys.

“So,”

he said casually,

“that whole parking lot incident yesterday—was that your way of trying to attract a crowd?”

I shot him a look.

“You’re hilarious.”

He grinned.

“And Tyler Crowley thinks you’re going to prom with him.”

“He’ll figure it out eventually.”

We walked together toward the school, and I tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest.

“I wanted to apologise for being rude,”

he said, more serious now.

“It’s nothing personal. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,”

I muttered, unsure whether I meant it.

Then, completely out of nowhere, he asked,

“You’re going to Seattle this Saturday, right?”

I blinked.

“Yes… why?”

“Do you want a lift?”

I stared at him.

“You’re… offering to drive me?”

“Yes. I’m going anyway. It’ll save your truck the mileage, and the environment will thank you.”

“You don’t even know if I’m going to let you.”

“I’m betting you will.”

He was right. I said yes.

He gave a small, satisfied smile.

“It’s probably better if we’re not friends,”

he said again.

“But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to know you.”

He turned and headed towards his next class, leaving me standing there in the cold, heart racing, utterly dazed.

Blood Type – vampire love romance

I arrived late to English, earning a pointed remark from Mr Mason. I mumbled an apology and slid into my seat, cheeks burning. The rest of the morning passed in a distracted blur. I counted down the minutes until lunch, heart racing with anticipation I tried not to acknowledge.

When I finally entered the cafeteria, my spirits sank—Edward Cullen was not seated at his usual table with his siblings. I tried not to show my disappointment as I joined Jessica and the others.

Then Jessica nudged me.

“He’s over there,”

she whispered.

I followed her gaze. Edward was seated alone at a table across the room, looking straight at me. As our eyes met, he lifted one hand in a beckoning gesture.

I stood and walked toward him, vaguely aware of Jessica’s stunned expression behind me.

“Why are you sitting alone?”

I asked as I sat down across from him.

He smiled crookedly.

“It’s more private this way.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You’re avoiding your family for privacy?”

“I’m giving up,”

he said softly.

“Giving up?”

“On pretending I can stay away from you.”

His tone was casual, but the meaning hit me like a stone. I looked down, unsure what to say.

“It’s probably not… sensible,”

he added.

“But I’ve decided to stop pretending. Though I meant what I said before—I’m not a good friend for you.”

“You’ve mentioned that,”

I said dryly.

He laughed once under his breath.

“And yet here we are.”

We sat in a quiet pause before he continued.

“You had some theories, didn’t you? About what I am.”

I blinked.

“You’re asking me now?”

“I’m curious.”

I hesitated.

“I don’t want to say anything that might offend you.”

He smirked.

“Go on, I can take it. Radioactive spiders? Kryptonite?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Nothing quite so comic-book.”

He leaned forward, eyes glinting.

“What if I’m the bad guy?”

“You don’t seem like the bad guy.”

His smile faltered slightly.

“You don’t know how wrong you are.”

I looked at him closely.

“I think you’re dangerous.”

“Only to you,”

he said quietly.

Before I could respond, the bell rang. He stood.

“I’m skipping Biology today,”

he said lightly.

“See you later.”

I watched him walk away, unable to gather a coherent thought.

In Biology, Mr Banner handed out a lab assignment: blood typing. We were to prick our fingers and examine our blood samples. The very description made my stomach churn.

As the procedure was demonstrated, a wave of nausea hit me. My hands turned clammy, and the room tilted.

“Bella?”

Mr Banner said, frowning.

“I don’t feel well,”

I murmured.

He called Mike Newton to escort me to the nurse.

Outside, I barely made it to the edge of the pavement before I collapsed onto the cold concrete, head spinning.

“Bella!”

Mike cried, kneeling beside me.

Then a new voice spoke, low and calm.

“I’ll take it from here.”

I opened my eyes to see Edward crouched beside me. He ignored Mike’s protests, sliding one arm beneath my shoulders and another beneath my knees, lifting me effortlessly. My face burned, but I couldn’t summon the strength to protest.

In the front office, Edward was utterly composed, charming the receptionist as he explained he’d been listening to music in his car when he saw me collapse.

The nurse led me to the cot in the back room and checked my pulse.

“You’re just a bit faint,”

she said kindly.

I lay back, trying to breathe normally. Moments later, Mike arrived, helping in another student who was actually bleeding from the hand.

The moment the sharp, metallic scent hit me, my stomach twisted. I bolted upright and fled the room.

Edward was already beside me again.

“All right?”

I nodded weakly.

“I can smell the blood. It smells like rust… and salt.”

He looked at me with an unreadable expression.

“You’re very observant.”

He insisted on driving me home. I protested, weakly, but he was insistent—and had already arranged for Alice to drive my truck.

We walked to his Volvo. The interior was warm, smooth leather and faintly fragrant. As he pulled onto the road, a gentle piano melody filled the car.

“What is this?”

I asked.

“Clair de Lune,”

he replied.

“Debussy.”

It was calming, and I allowed myself to relax into the seat.

We talked easily as he drove. He asked about my mother, and I told him about her recent marriage to Phil. He listened intently, then spoke warmly of Carlisle and Esme, his adoptive parents. The affection in his voice surprised me—it was real.

When we pulled up outside Charlie’s house, he turned to me.

“Are you still going to La Push this weekend?”

“Yes. With a few people from school.”

He nodded.

“I’m not going.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I’ll be hiking with Emmett. Goat Rocks Wilderness. You’ll be safe enough.”

I frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gave me a crooked smile.

“Let’s just say… you seem to attract accidents like a magnet.”

I laughed once, in spite of myself.

“Seriously, Bella,”

he added, eyes dark,

“try not to fall into the ocean or get hit by anything.”

“I’ll do my best.”

And with that, he was gone—leaving me with the feeling that something between us had shifted again, something I couldn’t name, but couldn’t ignore either.

Scary Stories – vampire love romance

I sat in my room, textbook open to Macbeth, though the words may as well have been in another language. My attention was fixed on the window, eyes flicking to the rain-slicked street. Despite the downpour, I heard the familiar growl of an engine—my truck had returned. Silently, it rolled into the driveway. Alice must have delivered it back without a sound.

Friday was a letdown. Edward wasn’t at school, and my anticipation of seeing him fizzled into disappointment. Jessica was eager for details about our lunch the day before, pressing for information with thinly veiled annoyance when I gave her little to work with. I had no juicy revelations, no declarations to share. I’d hardly understood what had happened myself.

At lunch, I caught myself glancing towards the Cullens’ table. Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper were there—but Edward was absent once again. As we left the cafeteria, I overheard Lauren muttering bitterly to Mike.

“Why doesn’t she just sit with the Cullens if she’s so obsessed with them?”

Mike, to his credit, whispered back,

“She’s my friend.”

His tone was protective, but I felt a pang of discomfort. I hadn’t asked for loyalty. The whole situation was growing more complicated by the hour.

That evening, when I mentioned the La Push outing, Charlie was pleased. I casually asked about Goat Rocks—Edward had mentioned it—but Charlie immediately shifted into dad mode, warning me about bears.

“Don’t stray too far into the forest,”

he said.

“Especially not up there.”

Saturday morning brought a shock: sunlight. The sky was a pale, buttery yellow—the kind of brightness that felt unnatural in Forks. I stared at it in disbelief before setting off for the Newtons’ store, where the group was gathering.

Mike beamed when I arrived, his enthusiasm uncomfortably transparent. Jessica gave me a tight smile. With too many passengers and not enough seats in Mike’s Suburban, we ended up awkwardly crammed together—I in the front seat with Mike and Jessica, who clearly wasn’t thrilled.

The drive to La Push was beautiful: dense, mossy forest giving way to the slate-grey coast. First Beach was wide and strewn with driftwood, the sea restless under the early spring light. We built a fire with the salt-bleached wood, and Mike took the opportunity to show off, tossing bits into the flames to turn them blue and green.

Later, some of the boys decided to hike out to the tidal pools. I went along, welcoming the distraction. The pools were full of wonders—starfish, anemones, the slick gleam of eels slithering through shallow water. Still, Edward lingered in my mind, his absence pressing at the back of my thoughts.

When we returned to the beach for lunch, a group of local teenagers had joined the party—boys from the Quileute reservation. Among them was a tall, lean boy with glossy black hair pulled back in a ponytail and warm russet skin.

“Hey, I’m Jacob,”

he said, flashing a grin.

“Jacob Black. My dad’s Billy. Yours is Charlie, right?”

I smiled.

“Right. So, you’re the one I got the truck from.”

He laughed.

“Guilty. My sisters were thrilled to have it gone.”

We chatted about his family—twins, Rachel and Rebecca—and I learned Rebecca had married and moved to Hawaii. Jacob was quick-witted and easy to talk to, with an openness that made him feel familiar almost immediately.

While we ate, Lauren’s voice cut through the conversation.

“Did anyone invite the Cullens?”

she asked with faux innocence.

The air went still for a moment. Then Sam, one of the older Quileute boys, answered flatly,

“The Cullens don’t come here.”

His tone brooked no argument.

My curiosity flared. Something in Sam’s voice—final, wary—made me sit up straighter. I turned to Jacob, who seemed to notice my interest. Emboldened by his easy manner—and the way his eyes flicked to me—I took a risk.

“Walk with me?”

I asked.

He looked surprised, then pleased.

“Sure.”

We strolled down the beach, the wind tangling our hair and lifting the scent of salt from the sea. I tried to keep it light, smiling too much and tripping over my own words in a clumsy attempt at flirtation. Jacob didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re not like the others,”

I said casually.

“They all clammed up when Lauren mentioned the Cullens.”

His grin faltered.

“I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”

I tilted my head.

“You don’t have to… unless you want to.”

He hesitated—then gave a sheepish smile.

“I could tell you… a scary story.”

I leaned in.

“I love scary stories.”

We sat on a driftwood log, and Jacob began.

He told me of ancient Quileute legends—of a Great Flood, of spirit warriors, of how his people were descended from wolves. Then, lowering his voice, he spoke of the Cold Ones.

“According to my great-grandfather, they’re our natural enemies,”

he said, glancing around theatrically.

“They look like people—but they’re not. They came to our territory long ago, a different kind than most. They didn’t hunt humans.”

“And… your great-grandfather made a treaty with them?”

Jacob nodded.

“They agreed to stay off our lands, and in return, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale-faces.”

I kept my voice neutral.

“Are they still around?”

“They are. Same ones. The Cullens.”

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Jacob, still caught up in the story, didn’t notice.

“They’re… what you’d call vampires,”

he said, grinning at my expression.

“But the story says they don’t drink human blood. They’re, like, vegetarian vampires or something.”

I looked out to the sea, keeping my face calm as everything suddenly made sense. The pieces—Edward’s strength, his speed, his cold skin, the eyes—slotted together with terrifying clarity.

Jacob laughed.

“You okay? That gave you goosebumps.”

“Yeah,”

I said faintly.

“Just the story. Very… vivid.”

Mike and Jessica reappeared then, interrupting us. Mike looked distinctly displeased.

“We’re packing up,”

he said shortly.

The clouds had returned, greying the sky once more. I climbed into the back of the Suburban, closed my eyes, and leaned against the window.

I didn’t want to think.
I didn’t want to believe.
But I couldn’t stop the word echoing through my head.

Vampire.

Nightmare – vampire love romance

I told Charlie I had too much homework to join him for dinner and retreated to the sanctuary of my room. I needed to escape my thoughts—the knot of anxiety twisting tighter in my chest. I slipped on my headphones and blasted one of Phil’s CDs, a chaotic blend of bass and screeching guitar. Eventually, the noise dulled my senses enough to lull me into a shallow sleep.

But sleep brought no relief.

I dreamt I was lost in a forest, the trees dark and twisted, the air humming with threat. Jacob Black clutched my hand, pulling me back from the shoreline where sunlight glittered. His voice was urgent—run, he said, though I didn’t know why. Somewhere behind the trees, Mike Newton called out, but I couldn’t see him.

Then Jacob began to shake, his body convulsing violently before erupting into a massive, russet-coloured wolf. His teeth were bared, eyes blazing.

Across the water’s edge stood Edward, bathed in sunlight, radiant and terrible. He smiled—sharp, inhuman teeth gleaming—and reached a hand toward me. I stepped forward, drawn by something I couldn’t explain.

The wolf launched at him, snarling.

I woke up screaming.

It was half-past five. Pale grey light seeped through the curtains. I sat upright, heart thudding, the final image of the dream still seared into my vision. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping again.

I crossed the room, sat down at the computer, and opened the browser. I typed in one word:

Vampire.

Thousands of results poured in. I clicked through article after article—film characters, goth clubs, novelty websites. Nothing useful. After an hour, I found one site that stood out: a collection of vampire myths from around the world. I skimmed quickly—Filipino Danag, Hebrew Estrie, the Slavic Nosferatu. Most bore no resemblance to what I had observed.

Then I found a passing reference to the Stregoni benefici—an Italian legend about benevolent vampires who protected humans rather than hunted them. The description was vague, but something about it made me pause.

I leaned back in my chair, thoughts racing. I mentally checked off the traits: inhuman speed, impossible strength, ice-cold, pale skin, the changing eye colour, the aversion to sunlight—and now, Jacob’s “scary story” of the Cold Ones.

It made no sense. And yet… it was the only explanation that made any sense at all.

Frustrated, I slammed the laptop shut.

I needed air.

I pulled on my raincoat and headed into the woods behind the house, walking east. The trees closed in around me, damp and moss-draped, the silence broken only by the occasional cry of a jay or the rustle of a squirrel.

I found a mossy log and sat. For a long while, I simply listened.

Here, in the hush of the forest, the idea didn’t feel so absurd. The world was older here, untouched by logic and science. If there was a place to believe in monsters, it was here.

I forced myself to ask the first question: Was it possible Edward Cullen was a vampire?

No rational part of me wanted to say yes—but the evidence left little room for anything else. Denying it wouldn’t make it less true.

Then came the second question: If he was, what would I do?

I thought of the van in the car park, the way he’d thrown himself between me and death without hesitation. If he meant to harm me, he’d had every chance. Instead, he had saved me. Again and again.

I pictured the dream—Edward’s face in the light, not terrifying, but sorrowful.

I wasn’t afraid of him.
I was afraid for him.

The truth settled over me with alarming clarity. I knew what I wanted—regardless of what he was.

I wanted to be with him.

The decision brought a strange calm. My heart still pounded, but the fear had changed shape. Not dread—resolve.

I returned home, sat down, and wrote my essay on Macbeth with methodical precision. I prepared dinner for Charlie and asked about his day. That night, I slept deeply.

No dreams.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window—brilliant and warm. The rare weather lifted my mood instantly. At school, I sat on one of the picnic benches outside to check my Trigonometry homework, doodling dark eyes in the margins of my notebook.

Mike Newton appeared, all smiles.

“Hey, Bella! Your hair looks really red in the sun.”

“Thanks,”

I said awkwardly, tucking it behind my ear.

He lingered, clearly building up to something. I cut him off gently.

“Jessica’s really excited about the dance.”

He blinked.

“Oh… yeah. Right.”

I steered the conversation safely away, grateful when the bell rang.

In class, Jessica and Angela invited me to go shopping in Port Angeles the next evening—they needed dresses for the spring dance. I agreed without hesitation. I needed a distraction.

I searched the cafeteria and every class for Edward, but the Cullens were absent. Sunlight. Of course. The knowledge only deepened my disappointment.

That evening, Jessica rang to ask if we could postpone our trip—Mike had finally asked her to dinner. I agreed. The change didn’t bother me. I spent the afternoon in the garden attempting to read Sense and Sensibility, but the warmth lulled me into a peaceful doze. When Charlie came home, we shared a quiet evening. I asked if I could go to Port Angeles the following night; he nodded without hesitation.

Tuesday arrived grey and misty again. I scanned the car park, then the cafeteria. No sign of Edward.

By the end of the day, I was resigned. There would be no Edward, no answers.

When Jessica picked me up, I climbed into the passenger seat. We stopped to collect Angela, and then left Forks behind us.

Port Angeles – vampire love romance

Jessica drove, chatting excitedly the entire way to Port Angeles. It was unexpectedly pleasant—an easy rhythm forming between the three of us. The shared mission of dress shopping seemed to smooth out differences.

Jessica gave us an update on her pursuit of Mike Newton. She was optimistic, hoping dinner might lead to a kiss. Angela, ever quieter, admitted she wasn’t as enthusiastic about her upcoming date with Eric. She didn’t dislike him—he was just… fine.

At the department store, we combed through racks of pastel gowns. The girls were stunned to learn I had never attended a dance, let alone had a boyfriend. I shrugged, embarrassed.

Then came the real horror.

“Did you know Tyler Crowley’s telling everyone he’s taking you to Prom?”

Jessica asked, entirely too casual.

I froze.

“He what?”

Angela nodded, trying not to laugh.

“He told Lauren. Said you’re being shy about it.”

I groaned.

“I’m going to run him over. Twice.”

They laughed. Jessica eventually settled on a vibrant blue dress that hugged her frame, and Angela chose a soft pink one that complemented her complexion. I helped them decide, grateful for the distraction.

While they returned their purchases to the car, I decided to find a bookshop. I wandered down the main street until I spotted one tucked between a coffee shop and a novelty store. But inside, I found shelves lined with crystals, incense, and books on spiritual healing—not the kind of material I was after.

Disappointed, I walked on, letting my feet guide me southward without much thought. The streets became quieter, the shops fewer. A chill crept into the air.

That’s when I noticed them.

Four men, lounging near the mouth of an alleyway between old warehouse buildings. Their eyes followed me with an intent that turned my stomach. As I turned back the way I came, I realised two had begun following—positioning themselves so I couldn’t double back. The others spread out ahead.

They were herding me.

My hands began to shake. I looked around—no one. No traffic. Just looming concrete and dark windows. My breath hitched. I reached into my bag, fingers curling around my keys, sharp end out.

I kept walking. Fast.

Then a roar—an engine, tyres screeching.

A silver Volvo tore around the corner and skidded to a halt in front of me. The passenger door flung open.

“Get in,”

Edward growled.

I didn’t hesitate.

The moment the door closed, he was driving—too fast, tyres squealing, the engine revving with fury. I clutched the seat, stunned.

His face was stone. Every muscle in his jaw clenched. His hands gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled silence.

“Edward?”

I whispered.

He didn’t answer at first. When he spoke, his voice was tight, trembling with rage.

“I should go back and rip their throats out.”

My breath caught.

“Don’t.”

He forced a breath through his teeth, eyes burning.

“It was so close. I saw it—your face, in their minds. I don’t think you realise how near it was.”

Trying to steady him, I blurted,

“Well, if it helps, I’m planning to run over Tyler Crowley. He’s delusional.”

Edward blinked. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. Then, to my immense relief, he laughed—short and sharp, but it broke the tension like a snapped thread.

We returned to the main strip, where Jessica and Angela were emerging from the car park.

Edward pulled over.

“Mind if I borrow Bella for dinner?”

he asked smoothly, leaning across me to open the window.

Jessica, momentarily stunned, nodded.

“Sure. I mean—yeah, of course.”

Angela gave me a small smile.

“Have fun.”

Edward pulled back onto the road before I could say anything.

The restaurant was cosy and softly lit. A small Italian place called La Bella Italia. Edward approached the hostess and, with a flash of charm and a subtle bill folded into his hand, secured us a booth in the back.

I ordered mushroom ravioli. He took nothing.

“You’re not eating?”

I asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

The waitress came and went. I picked at my food, distracted by the weight of everything unsaid between us.

Eventually, I set my fork down.

“You’re going to have to explain some things.”

He didn’t flinch.

“All right.”

“Starting with how you knew where I was tonight.”

He hesitated, then met my eyes.

“I followed you.”

I blinked.

“You followed me to Port Angeles?”

“I… worried,”

he said, voice low.

“You have a gift for attracting trouble. I tracked you by your scent—then I found those men, in their thoughts. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

I shivered, but not from fear.

He went on.

“I can hear what people are thinking—every voice, every thought… except yours. You’re silent.”

I stared at him.

“You can’t hear anything I think?”

“Nothing,”

he confirmed.

“It’s… frustrating.”

“And you were really going to go back and… kill them?”

His jaw tensed.

“Yes.”

We sat in silence. My food cooled. He watched me as if he were trying to memorise every detail of my expression.

“You said you weren’t hunting today,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I was. With Emmett. We cut it short. I couldn’t stay away.”

There was nothing light left in the air between us. Just heat, and danger, and a truth too sharp to ignore.

Theory – vampire love romance

The drive back to Forks was a blur of trees, headlights, and unrelenting speed. Edward drove like a predator—smooth, controlled, terrifyingly fast. The speedometer nudged one hundred miles per hour, and though the road twisted through dark forest, he didn’t falter for a second. His hands were calm on the wheel, his gaze steady.

I, on the other hand, gripped the seatbelt in silent panic.

“Do you mind slowing down?”

I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

He glanced at me, amused.

“Afraid of crashing?”

I nodded stiffly.

“I’ve never been in an accident,”

he said.

“Nor have I ever been ticketed. I have excellent reflexes, and a… built-in radar for cops.”

I wasn’t reassured. He chuckled and eased off the accelerator slightly, though the Volvo still hummed at a speed no one else would call safe.

“I have questions,”

I said.

“I thought you might.”

I pressed on.

“How did you find me in Port Angeles?”

He answered without hesitation.

“Your scent.”

I blinked.

“You tracked me… by smell?”

He nodded once.

“It’s a little like a signature. Some are stronger than others. Yours… well, yours is unusually potent.”

I tried not to read too deeply into that.

“What about the mind-reading?”

I asked next.

“How does that actually work?”

He paused.

“It’s like a constant stream of voices in the background. Thoughts—some clear, some fragmented. I can choose to focus on specific people or let it all wash over me. Within a few miles, I can hear nearly everyone.”

“Except me.”

He glanced at me again, eyes thoughtful.

“You’re… silent. Like you’re tuned to a different frequency. Everyone else is AM, and you’re FM.”

“I suppose I should be flattered.”

He laughed once.

“You should be. It’s fascinating.”

Silence stretched between us, the wind hissing against the car windows. Then he said,

“Your turn.”

“For what?”

“I’ve answered your questions. Now I want to hear your theory.”

I hesitated.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

I asked.

He didn’t blink.

“No.”

I took a breath.

“It started with Jacob Black. He told me some old tribal stories—about the ‘cold ones.’ Vampires.”

Edward didn’t flinch, but his hands tightened ever so slightly on the steering wheel.

“I may have… tricked him,”

I added, glancing out the window.

“A bit of flirting. He seemed eager to impress.”

Edward let out a dry, humourless laugh.

“That’s despicable. I like it.”

I met his eyes.

“Did it bother you? That I figured it out?”

He looked at me hard.

“What did Jacob say exactly?”

“That your family—the Cullens—are the same group from the legends. That you’re different. You don’t hunt humans. You have some sort of treaty.”

He exhaled slowly.

“Did that convince you?”

I considered the question.

“Not entirely. The evidence did that.”

“And it doesn’t… matter to you?”

“No,”

I said, my voice steady.

“It doesn’t.”

He looked away sharply, jaw clenched.

“That’s not the right answer,”

he muttered.

“You’re supposed to be frightened. You’re supposed to run screaming into the night.”

“I probably should.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer.

He was silent for a moment. Then:

“Do you want to know how old I am?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been seventeen for… quite a while.”

I digested that.

“You don’t sleep in a coffin, I assume?”

“No coffins. No burning in sunlight. Though we do avoid it—for obvious reasons.”

“What about sleep?”

He smiled faintly.

“I don’t sleep. Ever.”

I looked at him, stunned.

“Not at all?”

He shook his head.

“Not even dreams.”

We turned onto the final road into Forks. Trees blurred by. The night was thick around us.

“Your family… you hunt animals?”

He nodded.

“We call ourselves vegetarians. It’s a poor analogy, but close enough. It keeps us strong enough to survive without… slipping.”

“But it’s not easy.”

“Imagine being a human living only on tofu. Strong enough to function, but never… satisfied.”

“And me?”

He was quiet.

“Tell me.”

“You’re like… my own personal brand of heroin.”

The words stole my breath.

“I’ve never wanted a human’s blood so badly,”

he confessed.

“I wanted to kill you. From the very first moment. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of the others—my family, the students, the teachers. But I was this close to slaughtering everyone in that room.”

I swallowed hard.

“I ran. I fled to Alaska. I had to escape… but it didn’t help. Being away from you was worse.”

We turned into my street. The familiar shape of Charlie’s police cruiser sat in the drive.

“I’ve had to monitor you constantly,”

Edward said softly.

“I couldn’t stop imagining you slipping in the shower, or stepping off a kerb into traffic.”

I looked down at my hands. Faint scratches still marked the skin from my last fall.

He reached across and brushed his fingers along them.

“I hate seeing you hurt,”

he murmured.

I opened the car door slowly, mind spinning.

“Bella,”

he said before I could leave,

“promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t go into the woods alone.”

I frowned.

“Why not?”

“I’m not the most dangerous thing out there.”

The warning in his voice sent a chill down my spine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,”

he added, softer now.

“Try to sleep.”

And then he was gone, swallowed by the night—leaving me standing in the glow of the porch light, heart pounding, trying to reconcile everything I now knew.

Interrogations – vampire love romance

I woke to a world swallowed by fog—thick, damp, clinging to the windows like breath on glass. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if the night before had been real. The car ride, the confessions, the warning… it felt like a fever dream.

Then I saw his jacket draped across the back of my chair. Not a dream.

I pulled it on before heading downstairs.

To my shock, Edward was waiting in the drive, leaned against his Volvo as though he belonged there. My battered truck sat quietly beside him, already returned.

“I thought you might need a lift,”

he said casually.

“You took your jacket back.”

“Of course. I have a reputation to maintain.”

On the drive to school, the forest melted past in a blur of grey and green. I kept sneaking glances at him, trying to read what I couldn’t hear. He caught me once and smirked.

“You’re very calm about all this,”

he said.

“It’s… irritating.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, you’re not.”

I smiled to myself.

When we arrived, he pulled into a space beside a gleaming red convertible.

“That’s Rosalie’s car,”

he explained.

“They’re punishing me for… breaking the rules.”

“Rules?”

He didn’t elaborate.

Under the cafeteria awning stood Jessica, holding my jacket and wearing an expression of stunned disbelief. Edward approached her with impeccable charm.

“Hello, Jessica.”

She blinked.

“Er—hi.”

He took my jacket from her, then politely excused himself. As we walked away, I could feel Jessica’s eyes burning into my back.

“She’s wondering if we’re secretly dating,”

Edward murmured.

“And whether you’re serious about me.”

“You read her mind?”

He nodded.

“You should say yes to the first one.”

“And the second?”

“I’ll be listening.”

We split up for class, but as soon as I sat down in Trig, Jessica pounced.

“Oh. My. God. Tell me everything.”

I tried to sound casual.

“We’re going out. He’s taking me to Seattle.”

Her eyes widened.

“How long has that been going on?”

“Not long.”

She leaned closer.

“And? Do you like him?”

I glanced down, fiddling with my pencil.

“Too much,”

I whispered.

“More than he likes you?”

I didn’t answer. She took that as confirmation.

Later, in Biology, Mike cornered me.

“So how was Port Angeles?”

“Jessica had a good time,”

I said carefully.

That seemed to satisfy him.

After Spanish, Edward was waiting again. He fell into step beside me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Every student in the corridor turned to stare.

In the refectory, he insisted on buying lunch and even took a slice of pizza for himself. He bit into it with visible reluctance.

“Tastes like dirt,”

he muttered.

“But it’s all for show.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You can eat?”

“I can. I don’t.”

As we sat, he leaned in, voice low.

“You think you care more than I do.”

“You heard that, didn’t you?”

“I hear everything. And you’re wrong.”

I frowned.

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m fighting every instinct I’ve ever had to not leave you,” he said. “Because it would be safer for you if I did. That’s how much I care.”

The silence that followed was too full, too sharp.

“You are the absolute opposite of ordinary,”

he added, voice softer now.

We changed the subject.

He asked about the weekend.

“You’re not really going to Seattle,”

he said.

“No.”

“You were avoiding the dance.”

“Obviously.”

He smirked.

“What if I offered a better plan?”

“I’m listening.”

“If the weather’s good, I’ll take you somewhere private. So I can show you why I avoid sunlight.”

“You’re not going to let me go to Seattle alone, are you?”

“Bella, you’re a magnet for trouble. I’d be derelict not to intervene.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You weren’t at school yesterday,”

I said.

“Emmett and I went hiking.”

“In Goat Rocks?”

He smiled faintly.

“You asked Charlie about it, didn’t you?”

“I might’ve.”

He chuckled.

“We were hunting.”

I grimaced.

“Bears,”

he clarified.

“You should see Emmett’s face when he catches one.”

“And your preference?”

“Mountain lion.”

My stomach turned.

“That’s… disturbing.”

“You’re not wrong.”

I hesitated.

“Could I ever see you hunt?”

He stopped smiling.

“No,”

he said sharply.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t need to see me like that.”

His eyes were dark now, stormy.

“You think I scare you now?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He stood.

“Alice and I have Biology,”

he said.

“I’ll see you after school.”

And just like that, he was gone—leaving me with too many questions, and the uncomfortable realisation that I’d barely scratched the surface of what he really was.

Balancing – vampire love romance

As Edward pulled up to the house, my stomach tightened.

A weathered red Ford was already parked in the driveway, its paint dull beneath the drizzle. On the passenger side, Jacob Black sat with his long arms crossed, and beside him, Billy—watching the house with narrowed eyes.

Edward went still beside me, jaw tightening.

“They’re crossing the line,”

he muttered.

“They’re just visiting,”

I said quietly.

He didn’t look convinced.

“Jacob doesn’t know anything,”

he said.

“But Billy does. Be careful. I’ll go. You handle it.”

I nodded, stepping out into the rain.

Billy’s eyes tracked me as I approached, heavy with meaning. His face was grim, his expression unreadable. Jacob, by contrast, lit up when he saw me, hopping out to greet me like nothing was amiss.

“Bella!”

he grinned.

“Surprise.”

I smiled back, trying not to glance at Edward’s car as it reversed down the street.

Charlie welcomed them in warmly, ushering Billy through the door with a clap on the back. They settled into the front room, swapping old fishing stories. I escaped to the kitchen, seizing the excuse to make grilled cheese sandwiches.

Jacob followed me, casually leaning against the counter.

“So… where’s your truck?”

he asked, scanning the drive.

I hesitated.

“I didn’t drive today.”

His brow lifted.

“Let me guess—Cullen?”

I flushed.

“Yes.”

Jacob snorted.

“That explains a lot. My dad was in a right state when we pulled up.”

I glanced at the living room. Billy’s voice carried—measured, a little too calm. He didn’t say anything to Charlie about Edward, but I knew he wanted to. The tension was thick, clinging to every word, every glance.

We ate in the lounge, laughter forced, conversation awkward. Billy never stopped watching me.

As they were leaving, Billy wheeled himself to the doorway and paused. Jacob was already bounding back to the truck.

“Take care, Bella,”

Billy said, eyes piercing.

“I will.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Once they were gone, Charlie surprised me by turning down the television and saying,

“You could’ve invited Mike to the dance, you know.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“He seems like a nice kid.”

“I don’t want to go to the dance, Dad.”

Charlie shrugged.

“Fair enough. Good thing I’m out on the lake Saturday. The house’ll be yours.”

Relief washed over me.

“Fishing?”

“All weekend. Don’t wait up.”

Friday morning brought weak sunshine and an unexpected lightness in my step.

Edward was waiting in the driveway again, leaning against his car with that infuriating smile. I climbed in without a word.

On the drive to school, and throughout the morning, he turned the tables on me—question after question.

“Favourite colour?”

“Um… green, I think.”

“Favourite book?”

“Depends on the mood.”

He wanted everything—what films I liked, how I felt about rain, what I wanted to do after school, where I’d travelled as a child. No answer was too mundane. He absorbed it all like it mattered.

At lunch, he sat beside me as usual—but just before the bell, he turned serious.

“I’m leaving early. Alice and I need to hunt.”

I blinked.

“Now?”

“I want to be well-fed,”

he said with a wry smile.

“Makes me… safer. Tomorrow.”

The words sent a shiver through me.

After school, I returned to the car park to find my truck waiting, parked neatly in the same space I’d left it. The key sat in the ignition. On the seat was a folded note in Edward’s handwriting:

Be safe.

I stared at it for a long moment, then tucked it into my pocket.

That evening, I set to work maintaining my cover story. I rang Jessica, pretending to confirm a day trip to Seattle. She seemed distracted—likely thinking about Mike. I did the same with Mike himself, making sure no one had reason to question my absence. I hated lying, but I couldn’t risk interference.

Nerves crept in as night fell. The thought of what tomorrow would bring was too overwhelming. I took cold medicine—more than necessary—just to force my mind to rest.

Sleep came, deep and mercifully dreamless.

The morning sky was pale with thin cloud cover—just enough to filter the sun without blocking it entirely. I dressed in a tan jumper and jeans, then stepped outside to find Edward waiting in the drive.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Nice jumper.”

I looked down.

“We match.”

He chuckled.

“How mortifying.”

We drove north, leaving the town behind. The road narrowed, then vanished entirely into packed earth and gravel. The forest grew denser, older, until the car could go no further.

“We hike from here.”

I nodded, stepping out into the quiet.

We trekked deep into the woods, five miles through untouched green. The trees towered above us, moss dripping from their limbs like curtains. Edward moved effortlessly, guiding me over fallen logs, catching my elbow whenever I stumbled. His hands were always cold—but steady, comforting.

Finally, the gloom began to lift. Light shimmered ahead.

And then, like a breath of magic, the trees opened.

We stepped into a circular meadow, secret and wild, a basin of blooming wildflowers beneath a sky split with sunlight.

Edward stopped at the tree line. He looked wary, hesitant.

I turned to him, beckoning with one hand.

He inhaled once—deeply.

Then, slowly, he stepped into the light.

Confessions – vampire love romance

Edward stepped into the sunlight.

It was not the inferno I had imagined—not flames or smoke, no searing flesh. Instead, his skin refracted the light in a way no human skin could. It glittered. Truly glittered—as though thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded beneath the surface. He looked sculpted, impossibly perfect, like a statue carved from marble or crystal, every angle polished and luminous.

He lay back in the grass, motionless, his eyes closed. A fallen god.

I couldn’t look away.

Eventually, I sat beside him, studying every facet of his face in silence. I reached out slowly, brushing the back of his hand with my fingers. It was smooth, cool, unyielding. I leaned closer, curiosity rising like a tide.

Then I inhaled—his scent, cool and sweet and unmistakably Edward.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

I gasped and turned to find him twenty feet away, standing in the shadows.

“I’m trying to be good,”

he said, voice tight.

Then, to demonstrate why I should be afraid, he moved.

One moment, he stood still. The next, he was across the clearing, wrenching a thick branch from a tree as though it were a twig. He hurled it against another trunk, where it shattered with a sharp crack.

“I’m dangerous, Bella,”

he said.

“Don’t ever forget that. I’m what hunts you at night.”

I stared at him, unmoving.

He waited—watching for fear. But I didn’t run.

Eventually, he returned, sitting beside me once more.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scared you.”

“I wasn’t scared,”

I said.

He smiled crookedly, shaking his head.

“You should be.”

We sat in silence again, the sun warming the meadow around us, though not him. He remained cool, unchanging.

“It’s all so absurd,”

he murmured.

“The lion fell in love with the lamb.”

“What a stupid lamb,”

I whispered.

“What a sick, masochistic lion,”

he replied.

And yet, here we were.

He explained his thirst using the metaphor of addiction.

“Imagine,”

he said,

“a recovering alcoholic in a room full of open bottles. His favourite, strongest vintage, sitting right there. You are that… to me. My own personal brand of heroin.”

I looked away, shaken.

“You have no idea how close it was,”

he continued.

“The first day—I was this close to killing every person in that room just to get to you.”

I met his gaze.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t want to be… that monster. I ran. I fled to Alaska. But I couldn’t stay away.”

He confessed that even when he saved me from the van, he had come perilously close to revealing everything—losing control, exposing himself.

“But I couldn’t let you die,”

he said simply.

“Even if it meant… everything else.”

Despite it all, I found myself leaning into him. He pulled me gently into his arms, holding me like something breakable. He rested his head against my chest, listening to the beat of my heart with closed eyes.

“It’s the most precious sound I’ve ever heard,”

he murmured.

Later, he asked if I wanted to see how he moved through the forest.

I nodded.

He crouched.

“Climb on.”

I clung to his back, and in an instant, we were flying—trees blurring past, wind whipping my hair. He moved like a bullet, his stride silent and seamless, weaving through trunks and over ravines without effort.

By the time we stopped, I was breathless, dizzy, and flushed. My legs trembled as I slid to the ground.

“You okay?”

he asked, grinning.

“I might throw up.”

“Please don’t.”

As my balance returned, he stepped closer.

“I want to try something.”

He leaned down slowly and pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was soft at first—tentative, careful. His lips were impossibly cold, but gentle, and the contact sent a jolt through me like electricity.

I responded instinctively, pulling closer.

He froze.

Then he broke away, stepping back abruptly.

“That,”

he said, struggling for control,

“was… an experiment.”

“And?”

He smiled, crooked and breathless.

“I had to test my limits.”

Still dizzy, I followed him back to the truck.

“I’m driving,”

he said firmly.

“But—”

“Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.”

I didn’t argue. There was no point.

I was completely intoxicated—and we both knew it.

Mind Over Matter – vampire love romance

Edward drove fast—elegant, fluid speed—but always in control. One hand gripped the wheel, the other held mine.

The forest melted away behind us as the sky began to dim. My head spun with everything I’d seen, everything he’d told me. And still, there was more to learn.

“Tell me how old you are,”

I said, turning to look at him.

He hesitated, then smiled faintly.

“Seventeen.”

I rolled my eyes.

“How long have you been seventeen?”

He exhaled through his nose, amused.

“Since 1918.”

The answer landed like a stone.

“I was born in Chicago,”

he continued.

“Carlisle found me in a hospital during the summer of the influenza. My parents had already died. There was no one left to claim me. No one to notice when I disappeared.”

His voice was quiet, matter-of-fact, but I could hear the weight behind it.

“He acted out of loneliness,”

Edward said.

“He’d been alone for so long. He couldn’t bear it any more.”

“What was it like?”

I asked.

“The change?”

He grimaced.

“Agony. Every nerve in your body… burning. You don’t forget it.”

I shivered.

He went on to tell me about the rest of his family.

“Carlisle found Esme first, just after me. She had fallen from a cliff and was taken to the morgue—but her heart was still beating. He saved her.”

His voice softened slightly.

“Rosalie came next. Carlisle hoped she would be to me what Esme is to him. But Rosalie and I… we’ve never been more than siblings.”

He glanced at me, gauging my reaction, then continued.

“Two years later, Rosalie found Emmett. He’d been mauled by a bear. She carried him over a hundred miles to Carlisle. Emmett’s… different. But they’re very happy together.”

“And Alice and Jasper?”

“They found us,”

Edward said.

“Alice has a gift—she sees the future. Or rather, she sees the possibilities. It’s all based on decisions, so things change.”

“She saw Jasper coming before he even knew where he was going.”

It was a strange and beautiful web of connections—some accidental, others inevitable.

We pulled into the drive. The porch light was off. Charlie wasn’t home yet.

Edward gazed at the house, then said,

“We stay in places like Forks because of the cloud cover. It’s rare to find somewhere so consistently grey. Sunlight doesn’t hurt us—but it reveals what we are.”

“Eighty years of night gets tiresome.”

I laughed softly, then realised something.

“I haven’t eaten all day.”

He looked mildly alarmed.

“Then let’s fix that.”

To my surprise, he followed me to the door.

“You’re coming in?”

“If that’s all right.”

I blinked.

“Yes. It’s just… unexpected.”

He retrieved the spare key from its hiding place under the eave.

“I’ve been here before,”

he said.

My mouth dropped open.

“You what?”

“Only to watch you sleep.”

The words took a moment to register. I paused halfway through unlocking the door.

“You watch me?”

“I find it… fascinating. You talk in your sleep.”

Mortified, I shoved the door open and hurried inside.

While I reheated leftover lasagna in the microwave, he stood silently in the kitchen. The domesticity of it all made it surreal—Edward Cullen, eternal predator, leaning casually against my counter.

“If I could dream,”

he said suddenly,

“it would be about you.”

My hands shook slightly as I served myself dinner. He didn’t touch anything, just watched me with quiet amusement.

Then came the sound of tyres in the drive. Headlights flashed. Charlie.

Edward vanished.

Charlie stepped through the door, surprised to see me at the table, flustered and red-cheeked.

“Hi, Dad.”

He eyed me suspiciously.

“You okay?”

“Just hungry.”

He accepted the explanation. We had a quiet dinner—he watched the game, I picked at my food and tried not to smile.

When I finally slipped upstairs, I opened my bedroom door to find Edward stretched across my bed, grinning.

I froze in the doorway.

“You’re insufferable.”

He tilted his head.

“You’re late.”

I dashed into the bathroom, changed into old sweats and washed my face as quickly as possible, heart pounding the whole time.

When I returned, he was still there, perfectly still.

“I’m becoming more comfortable being close to you,”

he said.

“It’s… mind over matter.”

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Earlier, when Mike asked you to the dance,”

he said suddenly,

“I wanted to break his jaw.”

I blinked.

“Really?”

“I didn’t understand what I was feeling at the time. Jealousy was… new.”

He held me gently, arms cold but firm, and I rested my head against his chest.

“You don’t know how difficult this is for me,”

he said.

“I could crush your skull with one careless movement.”

“But you won’t.”

“I won’t,”

he agreed.

“Because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

His voice broke slightly on the last word.

He promised then that he would stay with me—for as long as I wanted him. As long as it made me happy.

My eyelids began to droop. Sleep tugged at me, even as I tried to stay awake in his arms.

Before the darkness took me, I whispered,

“I’m betting on Alice.”

He smiled, and his voice was the last thing I heard before I drifted away.

The Cullens – vampire love romance

I woke to a soft grey light filtering through the curtains. For a fleeting second, I wondered if I had dreamt everything—but then I saw him.

Edward was sitting in the rocking chair by the window, still and perfect. He’d changed his clothes; he told me he’d gone home briefly while I slept. The realisation that he had remained nearby all night settled in me like a strange comfort.

He carried me downstairs—easily, like I weighed nothing—and set me gently at the kitchen table. I ate cereal while he watched with quiet amusement, like someone observing a peculiar, fragile creature.

“I think it’s time you met my family,”

he said suddenly.

I choked slightly on my spoon.

“They’re aware of everything,”

he added.

“Alice saw this coming. They’ve even placed bets on whether I’d bring you back.”

I stared at him.

“And I think I should meet your father properly,”

he continued, offhanded.

“As your boyfriend. It would explain why I’m constantly around.”

My face went red.

“Boyfriend?”

“It’s a convenient label. Unless you have another suggestion.”

I didn’t.

Upstairs, I changed into a long khaki skirt and a soft blue blouse. When I came down, he was waiting at the foot of the stairs, his gaze intense.

“You’re… very visually overwhelming,”

he said quietly.

Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead—so gently I barely felt it—then touched his cool fingers softly to my lips. Everything tilted. The floor seemed to recede.

When I came to, I was sitting against the wall, Edward crouched next to me with concern.

“I’m fine,”

I muttered, mortified.

“Just… forgot to breathe.”

He didn’t comment, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

We drove in my truck, Edward at the wheel. He navigated a winding forest road that eventually turned to gravel and then to dirt. The trees grew thicker and older until the forest suddenly opened up into a wide clearing.

The house that stood there was nothing like I’d imagined.

Painted a pale, weathered white, it was graceful and timeless, with a wide porch and vast south-facing windows that shimmered in the light. There were no cobwebs, no coffins—just elegant simplicity.

Inside, it was bright and spacious. Light streamed through the glass wall, dancing across pale wooden floors and minimalist furniture. It was silent, but not in a lifeless way.

Carlisle and Esme greeted us first.

Carlisle was breathtaking—blond, refined, impossibly youthful. Esme, with warm caramel hair and kind eyes, had a heart-shaped face that made her look endlessly gentle.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,”

Esme said, smiling.

From the staircase, Alice and Jasper appeared. Alice glided down and kissed my cheek, all enthusiasm and charm. Jasper kept his distance, his face composed but tense, as though being near me required immense restraint.

Rosalie and Emmett were conspicuously absent.

Edward led me to the gleaming grand piano in the centre of the room.

“Esme’s favourite,”

he murmured, then began to play.

The music was rich, intricate, and heartbreakingly beautiful. I stood frozen as his fingers danced over the keys. Then the melody shifted—something softer, slower, intimate.

“My lullaby for you,”

he said quietly.

Esme came to sit beside me while he played.

“Edward was the first of our sons,”

she said, her voice fond.

“He’s always been alone, until now.”

She told me about her past—how she’d jumped off a cliff in despair after losing her child, how Carlisle had saved her. There was a softness in her voice when she spoke of Edward—something between gratitude and hope.

Afterwards, Edward explained that Rosalie resented me—not personally, but for what I represented. My humanity. My choice. Emmett was with her, trying to talk her down.

Then came a brief, quiet exchange between Edward and Carlisle. Something had changed. Alice had seen visitors coming—vampires who weren’t like the Cullens. Edward grew visibly tense, and I felt the undercurrent of protectiveness swell between us.

He took my hand and led me upstairs.

“This was Carlisle’s,”

he said, showing me a wooden cross above the doorframe.

“The irony, right?”

he added with a wry smile.

Carlisle had been born in London in the 1640s, the son of a fanatical pastor who led hunts for witches and vampires. During one of those hunts, Carlisle had been bitten. He hid for three days in agony and emerged changed. Unlike others, he refused to become a monster. He tried starving himself, tried destroying himself. Eventually, he found he could survive on animal blood.

He travelled across Europe, studied medicine, even stayed briefly with an ancient Italian coven—the Volturi—before moving to America.

“In 1918,”

Edward said softly,

“he found me. Dying. Alone. He was… lonely.”

Edward paused, then admitted something more.

“For a time, I left him. Went my own way. I thought I could make use of what I was—preying on the wicked. Criminals. But it didn’t last. I could hear their thoughts, feel their fear. Eventually, I couldn’t bear it.”

We ended the tour in Edward’s room. It was minimalist and vast, with another wall of glass looking into the forest. There was no bed. Instead, shelves of music, and a sleek black stereo.

He put on a jazz record and sat beside me.

“You know everything now,”

he said.

“No secrets.”

I smiled.

“You’re not very scary.”

“Really?”

His eyes narrowed with playful danger.

He tackled me suddenly onto the black leather sofa, pinning me with terrifying ease. I laughed breathlessly, trying to wriggle free, but his grip was iron.

Then came the sound of footsteps.

Alice and Jasper.

“There’s a storm coming,”

Alice said brightly.

Edward’s eyes lit up.

“Baseball?”

he asked.

Alice grinned.

“Thunder’s perfect.”

Edward turned to me.

“You’ll come, won’t you?”

I stared at him.

“You play baseball?”

He only smiled.

Carlisle – vampire love romance

Edward led me to a room unlike any other in the house—a high-ceilinged study, its walls panelled in dark, polished wood and lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. The scent of old paper and leather-bound volumes filled the air. Carlisle stood by his desk, a stethoscope draped casually around his neck.

“I’m running late for my shift,”

he said warmly.

“But Edward knows these stories as well as I do.”

He gave me a kind smile before slipping out silently. Edward gestured for me to follow him deeper into the room.

He stopped in front of a large wall crowded with framed paintings and photographs. My eyes were drawn to an old oil painting near the top—an atmospheric depiction of 1650s London cloaked in fog.

“That’s where it began,”

Edward said softly.

“Carlisle was born there, in the 1640s. The son of a particularly devout Anglican pastor.”

He explained that Carlisle’s father had been a zealous man, obsessed with rooting out witches, werewolves, and vampires. When the elder man grew too old to lead the hunts, Carlisle inherited the task. Unlike his father, Carlisle approached it with methodical persistence—and uncovered something real: a coven of true vampires living beneath the city, in the sewers.

During one such hunt, a vampire—ancient and starved—emerged and attacked. Carlisle was bitten and left bleeding in the street. Knowing what awaited him if his father found him, he managed to crawl into a cellar and hide. There, amongst sacks of rotting potatoes, he endured the agony of transformation over three long days—completely alone.

“When he realised what he’d become,”

Edward continued,

“he was horrified. He tried to destroy himself—jumped from great heights, tried drowning. But nothing worked.”

Carlisle’s nature repelled him. He refused to feed on humans. Then, by chance, a herd of deer passed near his hiding place. Desperate, he fed—and realised he could survive without becoming the monster he feared.

“Eventually, he swam to France,”

Edward said.

I blinked.

“Swam?”

He smirked.

“Vampires don’t need to breathe. It’s more of a habit.”

Carlisle spent the next two centuries studying at European universities, perfecting his self-control until he could work among humans as a doctor. Edward pointed to another painting—an ornate, dramatic piece clearly of the Baroque era.

“That’s by Solimena,”

he said.

“It’s Carlisle… with the Volturi.”

The scene depicted four men—one of whom I recognised as Carlisle—surrounded by velvet and candlelight. The other three, Edward explained, were Aro, Marcus, and Caius: founders of an ancient and refined vampire coven based in Italy.

“They welcomed him,”

Edward said.

“But they couldn’t understand his… lifestyle. They believed humans were beneath us, meant to be prey. Carlisle left before they could convince him otherwise.”

He eventually came to America, where he continued practising medicine. During the Spanish influenza epidemic of 1918, Carlisle found a seventeen-year-old boy dying alone in a hospital. That boy was Edward. Having lost his entire family to the disease, Edward had no one left—so Carlisle, moved by loneliness, changed him.

“I was the first he turned,”

Edward said quietly.

“But ten years later, I left him.”

He described a dark period in his past—how he had once embraced a kind of vigilante justice, feeding on human blood, but only from those he believed deserved it: murderers, rapists, those who preyed on others. But their thoughts haunted him, and he could not continue. He returned to Carlisle, who welcomed him back without judgement.

From there, our path led back to Edward’s room—a wide, open space facing south, with an entire wall made of glass. It was light and airy, a room built for music and thought. There was no bed. Instead, rows of CDs and records filled the shelves, and a sleek black stereo occupied the far wall.

Edward put on a jazz record and smiled.

“No more secrets.”

I laughed.

“You’re really not very scary, you know.”

In response, he pounced—so fast I barely registered the movement—tackling me gently onto the leather sofa. His grip was unbreakable, but his eyes danced with amusement.

“I could scare you if I wanted to,”

he teased.

We were interrupted by light footsteps.

Alice leaned through the doorway, her grin bright.

“There’s a storm coming.”

Edward’s face lit up.

“Perfect.”

“Alice and I were thinking… baseball?”

I looked between them, confused.

“Baseball?”

Edward turned to me, barely containing his excitement.

“You’ll come, won’t you? You have to see it to understand.”

I blinked.

“You play baseball?”

He only grinned wider.

The Game – vampire love romance

Edward drove me home in silence, but the peace dissolved the moment we turned into the driveway. Parked beneath the dripping trees was a weathered Ford. Jacob and Billy Black were waiting in the rain.

Edward’s jaw clenched.

“They’re crossing the line,”

he muttered. His eyes narrowed, but after a tense pause, he nodded.

“I’ll go. You handle this. I’ll be back by nightfall.”

He barely waited for my response before reversing out of the drive and disappearing into the mist.

I opened the door and invited the Blacks inside. Billy’s gaze followed me with careful intensity as Jacob, red-faced with awkwardness, shuffled beside him. Billy handed me a warm parcel of homemade fish fry “for Charlie.” While Jacob went back to the car to fetch something, Billy’s tone shifted.

“I’d rather you didn’t spend time with the Cullens,”

he said lowly.

I stiffened, meeting his gaze.

“They haven’t set foot on your land,”

I replied.

“That’s true,”

he admitted,

“and we appreciate that. But I’m asking you, as Charlie’s friend… be careful. That family has a reputation, and not a good one.”

I resisted the urge to snap back and instead said,

“It’s my decision.”

Billy looked resigned, but not satisfied.

“Just think about what you’re doing,”

he said, as Jacob returned, grinning, with a photo in hand.

The visit ended shortly after. As they left, Billy gave me one final, searching glance. I knew it wouldn’t be the last of it.

Later, Charlie returned from work and devoured the fish fry gratefully. I sat at the kitchen table, nervously stirring a glass of water, trying to find the right way to tell him about my evening plans. Finally, I just said it.

“I have a date tonight… with Edward Cullen.”

Charlie froze mid-bite, eyes wide.

“Edward Cullen?”

he repeated, incredulous.

I hurried to clarify.

“The youngest one. He’s taking me to play baseball with his family.”

Charlie blinked.

“Baseball. In the rain?”

I shrugged.

“It’s a family thing. I won’t be late.”

He muttered something under his breath about strange kids and retreated to the living room, clearly still stunned but at least not furious.

When Edward arrived, he was every bit the gentleman. He greeted Charlie with a respectful “Chief Swan,” which caught my father off guard. The two of them exchanged small talk, Charlie clearly torn between suspicion and being impressed.

Outside, a massive Jeep was parked at the kerb, lifted high off the ground with thick off-road tyres. Edward chuckled at my expression.

“Emmett’s. It’s necessary.”

We drove out of town and deep into the forest. The paved roads gave way to a narrow, unmarked trail. Eventually, Edward stopped the car and insisted on carrying me.

“It’s faster,”

he said, grinning at my inevitable clumsiness.

Before I could argue, I was already on his back. He launched into a sprint, flying through the dense trees with supernatural speed. I clung on, the wind tearing at my face, the forest a blur.

We arrived minutes later in a wide clearing high in the mountains, surrounded by towering trees and mist. The rest of the family was already gathered: Emmett and Rosalie perched on a rocky ledge, while Alice and Jasper tossed a ball back and forth at astonishing speeds.

Esme greeted me warmly.

“I’m the referee,”

she said with a smile.

“Someone has to keep them honest.”

She stayed by my side, chatting comfortably. She told me about her past, how she had lost her baby shortly after giving birth and, in despair, had jumped from a cliff. Carlisle had saved her.

The first crack of thunder signalled the start of the game.

It was like nothing I’d ever seen. No gloves, no bases in the traditional sense—just raw power and precision. When the bat met the ball, the sound was explosive, like lightning striking. Players launched through the air, vanishing and reappearing at blinding speed. To tag someone out, they hurled the ball with terrifying force.

Even from the sidelines, I could feel the excitement coursing through them. It was graceful and feral, exhilarating and surreal.

Suddenly, Alice froze mid-motion.

“They’re coming,”

she said, eyes unfocused.

“Three of them. Much faster than I anticipated. They heard the game.”

The shift was immediate. Edward was beside me in an instant, tension radiating from him. He pulled the band from my hair and let it fall around my face.

“Cover your scent,”

he said urgently.

“It may help.”

Rosalie looked irritated. Emmett clenched his fists. Jasper moved closer to Alice, ready to shield her. Esme stood protectively in front of me.

Through the trees, I could see movement—three shadows approaching at a swift, predatory pace.

“They’re almost here,”

Edward murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

“Stay behind me.”

And then, the strangers stepped out of the forest.

The Hunt – vampire love romance

The three nomadic vampires stepped out from the trees with the sinuous elegance of predators, their every movement brimming with wary curiosity. The leader, Laurent, had dark skin and sleek black hair; beside him prowled Victoria, her wild orange curls knotted with leaves and debris. The third, James, looked ordinary by comparison, with nondescript features and pale blond hair—but his alert, predatory stance marked him as dangerous. Their eyes were deep burgundy, an unsettling contrast to the golden hues of the Cullens’, and their clothing was ragged—well-worn backpacker gear that marked them as wanderers.

Laurent was the first to speak, his tone courteous. He asked if they could join in the game. Carlisle responded diplomatically, declining the invitation under the pretext that they were just finishing. Ever cautious, Carlisle introduced his family vaguely, grouping them rather than naming individuals—avoiding any mention of me. The air was tense, but manageable.

As they casually discussed their travels, Laurent mentioned feeding just outside Seattle but agreed to respect the Cullens’ territory. The mood began to relax—until the wind shifted.

A breeze carried my scent across the field.

James’s reaction was immediate. He tensed, his nostrils flared, and a hungry gleam lit his eyes. In a blur, Edward stepped in front of me with a guttural snarl, his posture lethal. Instantly, the entire Cullen family closed ranks around me.

Laurent was clearly surprised.

“You brought a snack?”

he asked, incredulous.

Carlisle answered calmly but firmly. Despite the tension, Laurent quickly grasped the seriousness of the Cullens’ defensive stance. Trying to defuse the situation, he suggested that they continue their conversation at the Cullens’ home and promised that no harm would come to me. The Cullens allowed it—for now.

As soon as the strangers disappeared into the trees, Edward seized me and sprinted to Emmett’s Jeep with Alice and Emmett close behind. We tore away from the clearing at breakneck speed. Edward drove south at over one hundred miles per hour, his fury icy and controlled but terrifying.

In the darkness of the Jeep, Edward explained that James was a tracker—one of the most dangerous kinds of vampire. Once a tracker identified a target, the hunt became an obsession. By defending me, Edward had unwittingly turned me into James’s newest game. He wouldn’t stop until I was dead.

My blood turned to ice. My first thought was of Charlie. If James followed my scent back to the house, he’d be in mortal danger. I couldn’t let that happen.

Panic-stricken, I begged Edward to take me back. I needed to leave properly—make it look like I was running away for a mundane, human reason. If it seemed like I was simply a teenage girl leaving town after a heartbreak, James might not suspect the Cullens’ involvement or realise he was being deceived.

After some resistance, the family agreed to my plan.

I would return to my house and have a heated argument with Charlie, claiming I had broken up with Edward and was fleeing to Phoenix. That way, James would believe I was acting on my own. Alice and Jasper would then take me to Arizona while Edward, Carlisle, and Emmett would lead James on a false trail through the mountains, hoping to kill him.

The car turned back towards Forks, the weight of the coming hours settling on us all.

Just before we reached town, Edward spoke again, his voice grim and low:

“If anything happens to you, Bella—anything—I will hold you personally responsible.”

I didn’t argue. I understood the stakes.

And so, the hunt had begun.

Goodbyes – vampire love romance

Charlie was waiting up for me, every light in the house blazing. Edward pulled up cautiously, hyper-aware of his surroundings, with Alice and Emmett equally alert for any sign of the tracker. Edward confirmed James wasn’t nearby—for now—and reminded me of the plan: I had fifteen minutes to alienate my father, pack, and disappear.

Before stepping out of the car, I clutched Edward’s face between my hands and told him fiercely that I loved him—regardless of what happened next. His golden eyes burned into mine, but we both knew what had to come.

I shoved open the front door, slamming it behind me and shouting at Edward to leave me alone. Upstairs, I locked my bedroom door and packed at a frantic pace. Edward was already inside, tossing clothes into my duffel with inhuman speed. Charlie pounded on the door, shouting in confusion, demanding to know what was going on. I screamed back that I’d broken up with Edward.

Edward vanished out the window. I grabbed my bag and stumbled downstairs, only to find Charlie waiting, stunned and heartbroken. He tried to stop me, bewildered by my sudden change. In order to keep him safe, I had to say the very words that would wound him the most. I echoed the cruel phrases my mother had once used when she left him—calling Forks a stupid, boring town and saying I couldn’t stay trapped here anymore.

The blow hit its mark. Charlie froze, devastated, and I fled into the rainy night.

I barely made it to the truck before the sobs broke free, but Edward was already there, sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling me into his lap as he sped away. He explained grimly that the tracker had heard enough of the argument to be convinced. He was following—running behind the truck even now.

I panicked, begging Edward to turn back for Charlie, but Edward was firm. “We can’t go back,” he said. “That’s exactly what James wants.”

Tension in the car thickened. Edward wanted to keep driving, to get as far away as possible, but Alice and I both knew the tracker would simply wait for my return—or worse, hurt Charlie. I proposed a new idea: I’d head to Phoenix, giving the appearance that I was running home to my mum. That would make the most sense from a human perspective. James would follow the scent south, leaving Charlie behind.

Edward didn’t like it, but eventually conceded. Alice and Jasper would take me in a separate car and keep me hidden while the others tried to intercept the tracker.

We returned briefly to the Cullen house. The atmosphere was taut. Laurent was there, pacing, uneasy. He warned Carlisle that James was no ordinary vampire—he was a tracker by nature, and once he began a hunt, nothing would stop him. He wanted no part in it and left, heading for the Denali clan in Alaska.

As soon as he was gone, the Cullens sprang into action. Esme and Rosalie were to take my truck and drive north to lay a false trail. Rosalie, furious and jealous, resented having to wear my clothes and risk herself for me. But she obeyed.

Alice and Jasper readied a dark Mercedes to take me away. I clung to Edward one last time. He held me in his arms, his kiss brief and bruising, eyes searing into mine with pain and longing—before turning away, cold and emotionless, ready for the hunt.

Esme whispered in my ear to stay safe. Then Alice swept me into the car, and we sped into the night, leaving Forks—and everything familiar—behind.

Impatience – vampire love romance

I awoke in a bland hotel room in Phoenix, the remnants of disturbing dreams still clinging to me. The room was dim, the curtains tightly drawn. It took a moment to recall the long, tense journey through the night in the back of the dark Mercedes with Alice and Jasper. We had fled Forks in secret, attempting to draw the tracker, James, away from me—and from everyone I loved.

Now, hidden away in a nondescript suite, I sat quietly while Jasper stared at the muted television, feigning interest. The silence was heavy, and the unfamiliar setting only amplified my sense of helplessness.

When my panic and guilt became overwhelming—fearful that I was putting the entire Cullen family in danger—Jasper intervened. His strange, calming gift wrapped around me like a blanket, easing my hysteria. He assured me that none of them were angry; their only fear was losing me.

Alice, always gentle and reassuring, reminded me that Edward had spent nearly a century alone. She said it was clear to all of them how much he cared, and none of them wanted to see him suffer if he lost me. Her words gave me a fragile sense of peace.

Later, while Jasper stepped out, I turned to Alice with a question I had long been dreading but couldn’t hold in any longer: How does one become a vampire?

Alice explained that vampires are venomous, and their bite doesn’t kill—it transforms. The venom paralyses and begins spreading through the bloodstream, a process that takes several days. The heart continues to beat until the venom saturates the body, at which point it stops. She described the transformation as the most painful experience imaginable. More importantly, she noted how rare it was for a vampire to stop once they’d tasted blood—making the act of conversion incredibly difficult.

Suddenly, Alice froze, her eyes unfocused. A vision was coming. She saw a long, mirrored room with wooden floors—a ballet studio. James was there. He had made a decision, and the decision was to wait in that space.

Jasper returned just as Alice snapped out of the trance. He analysed her vision, noting the tracker had made up his mind to go to this location—this “mirror room”.

The hotel phone rang. It was Edward and Carlisle. They had lost James somewhere near Vancouver, and now believed he had boarded a plane—possibly heading to Phoenix. Edward’s voice, though calm, was laced with tension. He told me that Esme and Rosalie were guarding Charlie, and that Victoria, the red-haired vampire, was searching for clues in Forks but had found nothing.

After the call ended, Alice sat down with paper and pencil and began sketching the room from her vision. The drawing struck me immediately: I recognised it. It was the ballet studio I had attended as a child—just around the corner from my mother’s house in Phoenix.

Fear surged through me as I realised the tracker must be near my mother.

We made a decision to move closer to her home. Hoping she had not yet returned, I rang the house and left a desperate voicemail, begging her not to go anywhere until she spoke with me.

Phone Call – vampire love romance

I woke early, disoriented by the strange reversal of my sleeping patterns. The hotel suite was dim and quiet. Alice and Jasper were already in the sitting room—motionless, watchful. Alice was sketching again, her pencil gliding rapidly across the page.

The drawing showed a room with dark wooden beams, familiar panelling, and an old television set with a VCR beneath it.

My stomach dropped.

“It’s my mum’s house,”

I whispered.

Alice didn’t deny it. Instead, she immediately rang the number, listening intently to the ringing tone before hanging up. She turned to me with a calm determination.

“Edward, Emmett, and Carlisle are flying to Phoenix,”

she said.

“They’ll collect you at the airport. We’ll stay here to make sure your mother arrives safely.”

Her words should have reassured me, but dread pooled in my chest. If James had already been near my mother’s home… if he had tracked her movements… If the Cullens walked into a trap—it didn’t bear thinking about.

Before I could speak, the telephone rang again. Alice answered—and her expression changed instantly. She mouthed one word:

Your mother.

My breath caught as I took the receiver.

“Mum?”

I gasped.

“Bella?”

she cried, panicked.

“Bella, where are you? I—”

Her voice cut off abruptly.

A smooth, unremarkable male voice replaced it.

“Hello, Bella.”

My blood ran cold.

“Don’t scream,”

James said pleasantly. “Don’t make a sound.”

He instructed me to walk into the bathroom—somewhere private, somewhere Jasper couldn’t influence my emotions and Alice couldn’t see my face. I obeyed mechanically, gripping the phone with shaking hands.

“If you want your mother to live,”

he said,

“you will follow my instructions exactly. No tricks. No delays. No protectors.”

He told me my mother was with him—alive, but frightened—and that any deviation from his orders would result in her immediate death.

“You will go to your mother’s house,”

he said.

“There will be a number waiting. You will ring it, and I will tell you what to do next. If you bring anyone with you, if I sense any interference… it will be over for her.”

The calmness of his tone made it even more horrifying.

There was only one conclusion:
He didn’t have my mother.
He had a recording of her voice.
And the only life at risk was mine.

But he believed I would think she was in danger.
And that was enough to force my hand.

I had no choice. To keep everyone safe, I had to go to the “mirror room”—the ballet studio from Alice’s vision. I had to go alone. And I had to die.

I returned to the sitting room, forcing my expression into something flat and empty. Alice watched me carefully, but said nothing. I asked if I could write a letter for my mother before we left for the airport.

In truth, it wasn’t for her.

It was for Edward.

I wrote quickly, my hands trembling:

That I loved him.
That I was sorry.
That I couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt because of me.
That he must not come after James.

I sealed the envelope, praying he would understand—eventually—and that, somehow, the pain my words caused him would fade.

It was the last thing I could give him: the chance to live.

Hide-and-Seek – vampire love romance

The tension in the hotel room was suffocating. I sat perched on the edge of the bed, watching the muted flicker of television light dance across Jasper’s still face. Then Alice froze at the desk—her pencil suspended mid-air, eyes going blank as her head rocked from side to side in that eerie, trance-like motion. Jasper moved instantly to steady her, concern tightening every line of his body.

When she resurfaced, Alice insisted she had seen nothing new, but I recognised the hollow strain in her voice. Something had changed—something urgent. I was almost certain she had seen the ballet studio again, and that time was running out.

We prepared to leave for the airport to meet Edward. As I tied my shoes, I discreetly extracted my secret stash of money from my sock and slipped it into my pocket. Every move had to be timed perfectly.

On the drive, I pretended to be bored and mildly curious, trying to steer the conversation into harmless territory. I asked Alice to explain her visions. She told me the future shifted constantly—every decision made, every change of mind created new possibilities. It was enough to reassure Jasper, who kept scanning the horizon for threats, but inside, my heart hammered with dread.

At the airport, the crowds gave me cover. Edward’s flight was arriving early, which meant my small window of opportunity was narrowing. While Alice was distracted, I slid the sealed letter—my final words to Edward—deep into her bag.

Feigning hunger, I asked Jasper to walk with me to the food court but insisted I needed the ladies’ room first.

Inside, I ran.

I burst through the second exit, sprinting across the terminal. A pair of doors slid shut behind me just as Jasper appeared in the hall, searching. I darted into an arriving lift and hammered the “close” button. The doors sealed mercifully, cutting off Jasper’s line of sight.

The lift carried me to ground level. I fled through the airport, ignoring the stabbing in my chest and the trembling in my legs. Outside at the kerb, the first shuttle bus was pulling away. I waved desperately, the driver slowing just enough for me to leap aboard.

Once at the hotel drop-off, I caught a taxi and directed the driver to my mother’s house in Scottsdale.

The house was exactly as I remembered—sun-bleached and empty. Using the spare key, I let myself inside. I dialled the number James had left.

“Bella,” he answered, smooth as ever. “I’m so pleased you followed directions. Your mother is perfectly safe. I have no interest in her. My business is only with you.”

He told me to go to the ballet studio around the corner.

The heat outside was blistering. I ran anyway.

The familiar smell of varnished wood and cleaning fluid hit me as I pushed open the studio door. The room was silent—until suddenly, my mother’s panicked voice echoed from the back of the studio.

“Bella! Bella!”

I bolted toward the sound—only to find a small television playing an ancient home video. My mother’s image flickered onscreen, laughing on a beach. She had never been here. She was never captured.

James stepped out from the shadows.

“Well done,” he said lightly. “You really came. I honestly hoped for a better challenge.”

He set up a video camera aimed directly at me. He explained, almost conversationally, that he intended to film everything for Edward—something to torment him, something to ensure he came after James in a proper hunt.

Then he mentioned Alice.

He had hunted her once, long ago. Someone—an older vampire—had saved her by transforming her and hiding her in an asylum. The act had cost that vampire his life. Alice remembered none of it; James remembered everything.

And then the conversation ended.

James moved—a blur—and his foot crashed into my chest, hurling me across the room. My body slammed into the mirrored wall, glass shattering around me as my scalp split. Warm blood poured down my face.

He was on me again before I could breathe. His heel came down on my leg. The bone snapped with a nauseating crack. I screamed.

James lifted me by the arm, sneering, taunting me about Edward, about how foolish it had been to come alone. The scent of my blood overwhelmed him.

And then he bit me.

Agony—fiery and absolute—exploded up my arm. My scream dissolved into static as the venom burned through my veins. The room tilted, the mirrors fracturing into a thousand pieces of light.

The last thing I heard was the hunter’s low, satisfied growl as darkness swallowed me whole.

The Angel – vampire love romance

I floated in darkness, submerged in something heavy and thick, like water. Distant sounds reached me—feral growls, the crash of a vicious struggle—but above it all was a voice. An angel’s voice, calling my name in agony. I clung to it, sure now that I must be dead. Angels didn’t cry… but this one was weeping. That didn’t seem right.

Pressure pulsed at my head, and sharp pain radiated from my side—but none of it compared to what came next. My hand suddenly blazed with an unbearable, scalding fire. It devoured everything else, turning the other aches into background noise. I screamed for someone to stop it, to help me.

The angel’s voice was louder now—Edward’s voice—and he wasn’t alone. Another voice, calm and steady: Carlisle. They were speaking about me. I caught fragments—words like “venom”, “bite”, and “too late”.

Alice’s voice cut through the haze, urging Edward to act. But he roared in protest, terrified he wouldn’t be able to stop if he started. Carlisle countered that there was no other choice. He had to try—to suck the venom out before it spread too far.

Cold lips touched my burning hand.

The pain remained excruciating, but gradually, as Edward continued, the fire began to dim. The searing heat drew inwards, tightening into a single, blistering point, and then… it was gone.

I felt myself drifting, the darkness beckoning, but I clung desperately to the sound of Edward’s voice. I was afraid to let go, afraid I’d lose him again.

“I’m here,”

he whispered.

“I won’t leave.”

His voice was ragged. He told Carlisle that my blood had tasted… clean—like morphine. That, along with the venom, must have dulled my senses.

Carlisle’s voice returned, asking about my mother. I struggled to answer through cracked lips. “Safe… Florida…” I managed to explain that James had tricked me using old family videos.

I tried to warn Alice that James had known her from the asylum, that he had hunted her long ago, but my voice was too faint. Everything was fading again. The acrid smell of petrol hung in the air—they were burning James’s body and the studio, erasing all evidence.

I murmured something about sleep.

Edward’s arms wrapped around me then, lifting me gently. I felt the cold press of his chest against mine, a comforting anchor in the haze.

“Sleep, my Bella,”

he whispered.

“You’re safe now.”

The pain vanished. And I let the darkness take me.

An Impasse – vampire love romance

I woke beneath blinding white hospital lights, the familiar antiseptic smell stinging my nose. My body ached in a dozen places, and when I tried to move, I felt tubes tug at my skin and tape pull at my cheek. Panic fluttered, but before it could rise, Edward was there—leaning over me, his cool hands smoothing back my hair, his voice soft and urgent.

“You’re all right,”

he murmured.

“You’re safe.”

He explained my injuries as gently as possible: a broken leg, four broken ribs, a cracked skull, heavy bruising, and so much blood lost that I’d required transfusions. He admitted he had almost been too late. James’s venom had already begun to spread through my hand, but Edward had managed—against every instinct he possessed—to suck the venom out and then stop himself.

He said he was able to do it for one reason only:

“Because I love you.”

I was too drugged and aching to reply properly, but the words settled inside me with fierce clarity.

Edward then told me the rest. Emmett and Jasper had torn James apart and burned the remains while Edward was pulling him off me. To cover the supernatural violence, Alice had concocted a plausible story for the authorities: I had fallen down two flights of stairs and crashed through a hotel window.

Edward warned me my mother was here—and that she believed every word of the fabricated account.

Moments later, Renée rushed into the room, breathless and frantic. Relief softened her features when she saw me awake. She fussed endlessly—adjusting pillows, smoothing blankets, scolding me in half-sobs. She mentioned that Edward hadn’t left my side since I arrived. Then, in typical Renée fashion, she veered off into news of her own life: Phil had been picked up by the Suns, meaning they’d be moving to Jacksonville, Florida.

She assumed I would come with them.

I told her no. I wanted to finish school in Forks. I wanted to help Charlie. She gave me a knowing look.

“Is this about a boy?”

I hesitated, then admitted the truth:

“I’m… pretty crazy about him.”

Before leaving, she told me she’d heard on the news that a dance studio had burned down and a stolen car had been found there. She thought it was a strange coincidence. I didn’t comment.

When we were finally alone, Edward’s expression shifted, growing dark and conflicted.

“You should have gone with her,”

he said quietly.

“To Florida. I should leave you. You’d be safer.”

The words ripped through me. My pulse spiked, the monitor beside the bed shrieking with the acceleration of my heartbeat. I fought for breath until Edward’s icy hands cupped my face.

“I’m not going anywhere,”

he said quickly.

“Calm down. Breathe. I’m staying. I promise.”

Only then did my heartbeat begin to steady.

He told me the worst part of everything wasn’t the sight of my broken body—it was the knowledge that he had put me in danger, and the fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop once he tasted my blood.

“You should have let the venom spread,”

I whispered.

“You could have changed me.”

His face twisted with anger.

“Bella, no. I will not end your life.”

“You’re not ending it,”

I protested.

“You’re saving it. I can’t always be the one who needs rescuing. I’m tired of being Lois Lane. I want to be Superman.”

“Stop.”

His voice was cold.

“I will not condemn you to an existence like mine. You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Alice saw it,”

I insisted.

“She saw me becoming one of you.”

“Alice sees possibilities,”

Edward snapped.

“Not certainties. And she’s wrong.”

The space between us filled with quiet defiance. Neither of us would yield: I wanted forever; he insisted on my humanity. The argument dissolved into an aching silence—our first real impasse.

A nurse entered then, checking my vitals as though the emotional carnage in the room wasn’t visible. She administered more pain medication, and warmth seeped through my arm, pulling me under.

Edward leaned close, his voice a low promise.

“I’ll stay as long as it makes you happy.”

My eyes fluttered shut. The darkness grew soft, heavy.

“Still betting on Alice…”

I murmured, before sleep claimed me completely.

An Occasion – vampire love romance

Edward helped me carefully into his car, mindful of the stiff walking cast on my leg and the silk-and-chiffon confection Alice had forced me into. I was in a foul mood. I hated surprises, hated attention, and after the full day of grooming, preening, and beautifying, I felt less like a girl and more like Guinea Pig Barbie.

Alice had chosen a deep blue, off‑the‑shoulder gown with French labels I couldn’t pronounce, and she’d insisted on a single stiletto heel to complement it. The effect was elegant—and ridiculous, given that my other leg was encased in plaster.

Halfway through the drive, Edward’s phone rang. It was Charlie—but Charlie wasn’t the problem.
Tyler Crowley had called the house to “pick me up”.

Edward’s expression turned predatory with satisfaction.

“She’s unavailable tonight,”

he told Tyler pleasantly.

“And every night.”

Only then did the horrifying truth dawn on me.

He was taking me to the Prom.

Mortification crashed over me. I’d missed every poster at school, every hint. All that speculation I’d had about “occasions” and “permanent decisions”… utterly wrong. I wanted to sink into the car seat and disappear.

When we arrived, the school car park was overflowing with teenagers in tuxedos and glittering dresses. Edward circled to my side of the car and lifted me into his arms before I could protest, insisting I would trip and injure myself further if allowed to walk.

The gymnasium was decorated within an inch of its life—balloons, crêpe paper streamers, and a soft wash of coloured lights. The other Cullens were already there in a small clearing on the dance floor: Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper. Their presence had carved a respectful radius of space around them, as if the other students instinctively knew not to venture too close. Each of them looked impossibly beautiful; Rosalie, in a scarlet backless gown, resembled a dangerous goddess.

“I can’t dance,”

I whispered miserably.

“You don’t have to,”

Edward said. He slid me onto his feet, holding me firmly.

“Just let me move you.”

He waltzed us across the floor with effortless grace. I clung to him, praying not to humiliate myself. For a few minutes, everything was almost peaceful.

Then a familiar voice called my name.

Jacob Black—who appeared to have grown another foot since I last saw him—approached, awkward in an ill‑fitting suit. He muttered that he’d been paid twenty dollars by his father to come deliver a message, because Prom was a “safe” zone.

“Billy wants you to break up with him,”

Jacob said bluntly, jerking his chin toward Edward.

“Just passing it on. He says… we’ll be watching.”

I sighed, told Jacob to thank Billy, and assured him that Edward had saved my life, whatever Billy believed. Jacob left looking torn and embarrassed.

Edward reappeared at my side immediately afterward, his expression equal parts amusement and irritation.

He guided me outside, away from the noise and lights, to a bench under a cluster of madrone trees. The moonlight turned his skin silver. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

“I didn’t bring you here to torture you,”

Edward said quietly.

“I brought you because I don’t want you to miss anything. Your life should continue… as it would have if I hadn’t come into it.”

“I don’t want that life,”

I said.

“I want you.”

I hesitated, then confessed the truth that had been gnawing at me for days.

“I thought this occasion was… something else. A permanent change.”

He went still.

Then, in one fluid, deliberate motion, he leaned in and pressed his cold lips to the hollow of my throat. My breath caught—stopped entirely. I waited, heart hammering, for the bite, the fire, the choice.

But he pulled away, his low laugh curling darkly through the air.

“So willing,”

he murmured.

“So eager to surrender your humanity.”

My cheeks burned.

“If being with you forever is an option, why wouldn’t I want it?”

“Isn’t being with me now enough?”

he asked softly.

I touched his face—cool, perfect, impossible.

“It’s enough,”

I whispered.

“Enough for now.”

His arms closed around me, holding me beneath the moonlight as the music drifted faintly from the gym.

And for that moment, time was ours.

This work is an unofficial, transformative fan adaptation inspired by Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. All core characters, settings, and original story elements from the Twilight universe are the creation and intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer, and are used here with deep respect and gratitude for her imagination and storytelling. This book is not endorsed by, affiliated with, or sponsored by Stephenie Meyer, her publishers, or any rights holders; it exists solely as a fan-made tribute to the world and characters she created.