IMPORTANT NOTE: I originally posted this story 10 years ago under the names Carlisla Cooper/Joker's Daughter/Blood of Your Lips. After the publication of a very popular fanfic-turned book series-turned movie series, I took the story down. I am now making SMALL edits and reposting. Also, the first part of this story takes place in "real time", meaning there are very few jumps in the timeline, be they major or minor. The first three chapters alone are just the first night! Chapters 4-7 are just the second night! So when you look closely, you can see that the first part of the story really, really takes its time. I don't know why, but for some strange reason, I really like writing "in real time".
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any pre-existing content from the Twilight novels or films. I am not making any money from this story. I am the writer of the original fan-work Feral Blood and any resemblance to any other work is entirely coincidental, particularly as the story is over 10 years old!
WARNINGS: language, sexual situations, violence, Dom/sub and BDSM themes, and mentions of rape.
Well, this can't be good.
Those were the only words that formed in my head when I heard a dark snarl rip from Jasper's throat. As he lunged toward me, I could not help but think that this whole incident was a big shame. For one, I did not even want a party. Parties stopped being fun when I was twelve. And to top it off, it felt very awkward for me to just stand amid mythical, immortal creatures and be the only one to eat cake. Of course, I still did not understand what had possessed Alice to get a cake, particularly such a large one. It wasn't like her family could eat. Well, anything but me.
Normally, that thought would have made me smirk in amusement, but unfortunately for me, two black eyes were eyeing me with a raging hunger. That was also a shame because poor Jasper had such a difficult time being around human blood. And from what I gathered from Edward, I seemed to be especially tempting, which under normal circumstances would have been quite flattering. These, however, were not normal circumstances, and due to my own thoughtless klutziness, I was putting these vampires in a very painful situation.
I was jerked, or rather slammed, from my odd reverie when Edward's arm shot out to push me out of harm's way. Alas, he seemed to have forgotten his strength in the heat of the moment, and before I could register what was happening to me, my small form was flying through the air. I came to an abrupt and rather pain-filled halt against the large glass picture frame that hung above a table that just happened to be covered with glass candle holders. And if smashing into a glass frame was painful, it could not compare to the feeling of your entire weight landing in a pile of broken shards. Had I only hit the frame, it would reason that I would have several cuts, but I doubted I would have had so much glass embedded in my flesh as I did now.
Of course, that was not the worst of it.
Instead of just one vampire snarling at me, I had a whole house full of them staring at me as if were some forbidden delicacy to be devoured.
Talk about awkward!
And in the back of my twisted mind, I could not help but feel terrible about bleeding all over Esme's beautiful carpet.
Thankfully, Carlisle was by my side in an instant, inspecting the wounds on my arm, which effectively stopped my mind from wandering. After a particularly loud roar echoed through the room, his head snapped around. To my immense surprise, his eyes narrowed and he gave a low growl, the rumbled warning emanating from deep inside his chest. I blinked at him in wonder and was distantly aware of Emmett dragging his brother outside and the footsteps of their mother and mates following them. Edward, of course, seemed determined to hang around until I was aware of him again, and when I let my gaze catch his own, he gave me a pained look that somehow conveyed the vaguest hint of 'I told you so'.
I could not recall what it was, if anything, that Carlisle had said to get Edward to leave the house. But all too soon I was alone in the office, perched atop his desk and well aware of him towering over me. I squirmed at his closeness and prayed, foolishly, that he did not notice.
"Are you quite all right, Bella?" he questioned softly, his topaz eyes filled with concern and something else I did not hope to identify.
I nodded and kept my gaze schooled on the buttons of his light blue shirt. It had not escaped my notice that he looked much younger now that he had removed his suit jacket and scarf. That youthfulness only added to his inhuman beauty, and as I studied the small buttons, my mind wandered to the first time I had ever laid eyes on the Cullens' head-figure. He had been dressed then much the same way as he was now – in dark trousers and light blue shirt. Blue was a good color on him, I decided. It just seemed to make him glow somehow.
My gaze widened from the matching buttons to take in the expanse of his body. His shoulders were broad, and I had a healthy appreciation of the way the light material stretched over his deltoids. An equally broad chest led to a narrow waist, and I could feel my heart rate increase as I fantasized about what might be underneath that nicely fitted shirt. I felt a little bit guilty for letting my mind wandering to forbidden fruits, but if Edward was attractive then Carlisle was stunning. I could remember the moment he walked into the emergency room the first time I saw him and I'd decided then he was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on.
I mentally shook myself. I shouldn't be thinking that way about my boyfriend's father. Even if he had not been married, I was with Edward.
I refocused my gaze. "Um… sorry. I was just thinking."
He chuckled. "Obviously."
"It's just… I really didn't want to have a party." When he just raised an eyebrow, as if urging me to continue, I did so with a heavy sigh. "Parties aren't really my thing in general, and I haven't really had a birthday party since I was twelve. It's a little… Well, I'm just too old for birthday parties, don't you think?"
He laughed as he continued to carefully pluck pieces of glass from my arm. "Bella, you're only eighteen."
"Exactly," I argued. "Birthday parties are a little awkward when you hit your teen years and just seem odd when you become an adult. I mean, I guess I can kind of understand people having dinner at Olive Garden or drinks at a club or something with a few friends, but the whole cake-and-presents thing is just a little too much to me personally."
"Well, you know easily excitable Alice gets," the blond returned calmly. "Once she has an idea in her head, it is very difficult to dissuade her from it."
I snorted. "No kidding." When I saw the vampire watching me intently, I felt myself blush. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I should have paid more attention."
"Oh, Bella. It is not your fault. Jasper had a very difficult time after being changed and he is not as accustomed to this lifestyle as the rest of us. It can be quite a struggle for him sometimes."
"But this wouldn't have happened if—"
"Isabella, what happened was an accident."
I was silent for a while before gazing up into his hypnotic eyes, trying my best not to get lost in their gentle pull. "How do you do it?"
"Centuries of practice." His gaze barely left mine as he retrieved a needle and thread. "But as with everything else in life, I just had to make the best of what I was given."
I found my gaze drifting back over his fit body. "Did you ever think of doing it the easy way?"
Carlisle sighed and paused in his stitching. His eyes seemed to focus on a spot just above my head. "No," he breathed out. "I knew who I wanted to be. I have always only wished to help people. Though, if I am to be honest, it is not always easy."
I noticed that he said is rather than was, which surprised me. From what I had learned from Edward, Carlisle was supposed to be practically immune to human blood. Given how he had taken care of me during the James fiasco, I could not imagine the vampire leader having to struggle. I was very curious and could not stop myself from asking, "What do you mean? I thought… Well, I was led to believe that you aren't, um, exactly susceptible to the scent of human blood."
His entire body froze momentarily then his eyes swept over my face, and I could see that he was debating something. It was like he was weighing the options of what he wanted to say and was trying to gauge how I might react. When he released a heavy breath and bowed his head, I knew that whatever decision Carlisle had made was one that he believed would upset me. Still, his hands moved with careful confidence over my skin as he continued to stitch the wounds.
"Isabella, for nearly two hundred years, I have been almost entirely desensitized to the scent of human blood. It took many long decades – the greater part of a century – but I eventually overcame my instinctive hunger. But even in my worst days since being changed, I have never once given in to its seductive pull. However," he drawled softly, his faint English accent making me shiver, "there was an occasion when I was immensely shocked to find myself absolutely overcome with the desire for a human's blood. The desire was even more potent than my awaking to my first thirst. Before I first laid eyes on her, I briefly thought she might be my singer – a human whose blood calls so strongly to a vampire that it is almost painful for the vampire to resist.
"It should be said that you are Edward's singer," he continued. "When Edward first encountered your scent, he wanted nothing more than to…"
"Drain me dry as dry as a desert?" I supplied with a wry grin, earning a chuckle from the vampire.
"Yes, I suppose that is one way to put it." He smiled thoughtfully at me before glancing back down to his work. "That is not the reaction that I have toward my mate."
I was taken aback. There was no way Carlisle meant what I thought he did, so I argued, "But I thought Esme was your mate."
"No." His laugh was soft and a little sad. "No, my dear. It would seem that way to you, but Esme is not my mate nor is she my wife. It is part of the façade to make us seem more human."
"You can't mean…" My question faded into nothingness as his topaz gaze held my chocolate one firmly, and after a moment, my lips parted in a silent O. I dropped my head and stared at the floor for a minute or two, before nearly choking on a nervous chuckle. "Forgive me if… This is a lot." I licked my lips as a hundred questions danced in my head, but before I could stop myself, a couple of them spewed forth. "If I'm your mate, why didn't you say anything in the first place? And how would it be possible for you to want my blood?"
"That last one is somewhat more complicated." The curl of his lips was tender as he finished up my stitches. "I suppose it will be easiest if I start with the first question, the answer to which is the first time I ever encountered you was in the emergency room." He smirked at my blush. "One of your classmates was on the gurney beside yours, your father was standing right next to you while I examined you, and there were half a dozen nurses and doctors wandering through triage. It would have been highly inappropriate for me to confess to you there what I was and what you are to me. It was also acutely apparent that you were developing feelings for my son." There was a hint of anger in his voice, though I got the feeling it wasn't directed at me. "So while it broke my heart to step aside, as your mate, I live only to see you happy."
He placed all of the soaked gauzes in a bowl with the shards of glass and poured just a drop or two of bleach into the mix before lighting it. We both watched as all traces of my blood burned away before he spoke again. "Had I believed even for an instant, Isabella, that what I felt coming from you could have been more than a passing fancy, I would have come forward far sooner in regards to my affections for you. But you seemed very… smitten with Edward."
I leaned backwards and was pleasantly shocked when he stepped between my parted thighs. "Didn't Alice see this coming, though?"
"Indeed." He ran his cool hands up and down my arms and pulled me closer to him. "I might recall her having dropped a hint or two that, perhaps, Edward was not destined to have you. However, in a rather poor and rare choice for me, I bet against Alice. I felt that Edward was the one you loved and that Edward would be the one you would always choose while human. But I also was painfully aware that Edward had no intention of turning you and I did not feel that I could steal that choice from you, Isabella."
As I looked into his eyes, I felt myself being pulled deeper, tumbling into their golden depths. I swayed on my feet. "Carlisle…"
He scooped me up into his arms before I fell against him, and in the blink of an eye, we were behind the desk and seated in the large leather chair where he snuggled me in his arms. "It might take a while to explain my lure to your blood." It was several long minutes before he spoke again. "It seems to be your blood and only your blood that I am drawn to," he commented as he lifted a hand to play with my hair. "My best and, frankly, only guess is that this stems from the fact that you are mate. It's a relatively fascinating paradox, considering that the one thing which seems to drive me to want to drink from you is the same thing that leaves me completely incapable of doing so. I can only surmise that it comes from the urge to have a claim to every part of you, including the one part that I will not allow other predators to partake in."
I blinked then gave him a soft, shy curl of my lips. "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"Well as I said, you are most definitely Edward's singer. However," Carlisle sighed, "you are also his first love.
"I fear sometimes that I did Edward a huge disservice by changing him. He was only seventeen when he became a vampire and had not experienced his first crush or his first love. Being a vampire, he was too hesitant to get close to any human to allow himself that experience. Now, between the mixed emotions of you being his first love and his singer, he believes that you must be his mate." He stared into thin air, and I recognized the expression on his face almost instantly. He was debating whether or not he should tell me what he wanted to tell me next. Like the last time, he sighed and settled on the blatant truth. "When a vampire finds their singer, the human rarely survives. I must say that I am surprised he was able to resist your blood, given the fact that Edward has tasted human blood before. I suppose that I should be thankful for his feelings toward you, as they were probably the only thing that kept you alive."
He shifted me in his lap and buried a kiss in my chocolate curls. "A singer is like a drug to an addict—"
"That's what he said," I said through the snort of laughter that bubbled up. "He said that I was like his own personal heroin."
"That comparison is not far from the truth when it comes to singers." He hummed into my hair before resting his chin on the top of my head. "I would surmise that for most vampires, human blood would be quite like a drug such as Lortab to a patient waking from minor surgery. However, for whatever reason, the human becomes addicted and needs something stronger. A singer, for a vampire, is that stronger substance. Unfortunately, coming across a singer can be quite disastrous to anyone following this way of life. The singer is almost irresistible, and a vampire almost always drains them the instant they come across them. Like a human addicted to any such substances, vampires then spend centuries trying to find something that equals the taste of their singer. They obviously fail and then tend to develop destructive tendencies. Singers are, in essence, the perfect drug to vampires."
"It's a shame we come in limited supply, I guess." I could feel his chest vibrating beneath me with laughter. "Well, thank God for crushes then."
"Indeed." There was a long pause as he formulated his next words. When he spoke, it was a loving coo in my ear. "Yes, mia bella, I should thank God for your life being spared. And your blood." He pulled my hair back from my neck and let his fingers trail over the pulsing vein he found there. "You do look quite lovely in green, Isabella. It brings out the tiny flecks of jade in your eyes."
I chortled softly. "Why am I surprised that you can see colors in my eyes that I can't? And why are you trying to distract me?"
I did not have to look at him to know that he was smirking.
"What you want to know, dear Isabella, is rather a lot to take in. I fear that it will inevitably alter your perception of me," he sighed, "and not for the better." He nuzzled my ear as he murmured, "I could not bear it if you thought less of me."
"Carlisle Cullen, there is nothing in this world that could possibly change my thoughts about you." I pulled away and stared directly into his citrine eyes. "You are the kindest, most gentle, loving man that I have ever met. There is nothing that will make me think less of you." I felt a strong blush color my cheeks. "Do you think less of me for so easily accepting that I am your mate and—"
"No, cara," he said firmly, planting a chaste kiss on my cheek. "The pull between mates is ordinarily strong when acknowledged by both parties, though if it is between a vampire and human, the draw the human feels to the vampire can be rather confusing if not explained and reciprocated. Until now, we have rarely been alone. It would only stand to reason that you would believe you were meant to be with Edward and felt only the typical desire that most humans feel toward vampires. I could never even fathom thinking ill of you for allowing your feelings to surface."
"Then please do not think that I could think anything bad about anything you feel toward me," I retorted with a smile.
He groaned. "Bella mia…"
"Please," I begged. "I promise that I won't get upset. Just… tell me. Please?"
I felt him nod above me and heard his heavy sigh before he started to speak again. "While you are like a drug to my son, to be devoured completely, to me you are like a rare wine." His fingers caressed my throat slowly. "You are something so rare and divine that it would be a sin to just drain you thoughtlessly. No, Isabella. I would only occasionally soothe my palette with your delicious flavor, for you, mia bella, are the most tempting delight. You—" he trailed his tongue over my fluttering vein— "you are meant to be sampled, mia passerotta. That is what your blood is to me," he cooed. "I could never just drink of you so carelessly until the last drop was pulled from you. No, no, no… I wish to savor your blood for years to come."
His tongue had just begun to trail gently over my neck, when the door to his study was slammed open, to a reveal a panicked looking Alice.
"We have a problem."
In the words of Bob Ross:
However you think it should be, that's exactly how it should be.