Disclaimer: Characters you recognise belong to Stephenie Meyer. Characters you don't, belong to me.

A/N: I already have the first chapter written. I'm just going over it so it will probably be posted soon.


The girl moaned and squirmed in his arms but he pressed his lips down harder. It wasn't a cold night but he closed his eyes as a shiver ran through him. He ran his hands through her smooth, blonde hair and she let out a squeak of protest. Seconds later, he felt her slump against him and he let her fall to the ground.

He tipped his head back, savouring the last few drops of blood as it trickled down his throat. He eyed the body with a sigh of inconvenience. He'd have to get rid of it but it was too risky to take care of it here. Not enough cover and if anyone did happen to see him, the Volturi would be on him within days.

He picked the girl up and hoisted her over his shoulder with little effort. He was closing the trunk of his car when he smelt it first.

The was no way he could describe it only to say that he had never smelt anything sweeter. The scent lingered in the air, delicate notes misted around him. No other smell, natural or artificial, could match this intoxicating perfection.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, each breath giving spark to senses he had never even imagined he possessed. Even as a human, he had never felt so alive. So connected with the world around him. Eyes still closed, he unconsciously moved towards the smell.

He rounded a corner, his sated thirst a dull memory; and one that held no comparison to this new feeling that blossomed inside him. Moving without knowing where he was going, he eventually found himself in a secluded ally.

A dark figure perched upon a stack of crates. She was young, perhaps no more than sixteen. Dark hair fell past her shoulders in loose curls and the air around her seemed to shift and change at random.

Her lips curved in a smile. Not exactly warm and welcoming, more playful with a slight edge of disgust and danger but he was too enraptured to take note.

"I thought you were never going to show up," she said, her voice lilting and teasing.

His breath caught in his throat as she stood. She rose gracefully, stretching long limbs in a slow routine. She caught him watching and gave him a disapproving smile before moving slowly towards him.

She stood before him and looked up at him. She was small and dainty, looking all the more like a child, but her dark eyes glittered knowingly. The scent of her this close was overwhelming. She grasped his hand and her warm touch burned through his icy skin. Her eyes never left his face.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice sounding ragged and broken compared to her soft melody.

She grinned. With her teeth bared and her eyes shining, she looked wild...dangerous but he couldn't hold the thought. Couldn't consider it...couldn't follow up on it. All he could do was stand there.

"That's not what you really want to know, is it?"

She swayed on her the balls of her feet. Soft and slow. The wind blew tendrils of hair around her face and he watched as they breezed across her skin in a soft caress.

"What are you?" He whispered. Somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn't an answer he wanted to hear. A tiny voice niggled at the back of his head. Buried instinct, smothered by her sweet perfume, told him to fight her hold on him.

Her small hand, still in his, felt even warmer. Her eyes were lighter now. Green flecks seeping through the darkness and a black shadow fell across her skin. She stretched once more and let out a gurgling moan that was somewhere between pain and pleasure. She grinned, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth that made the dead girl's blood freeze in his veins. On her human face, the grin looked horrific and he instinctively dropped her hand and stepped back.

He watched in terrified fascination as short black hair sprouted from under her skin. It covered her body quickly, like creeping moss, and her back hunched with a loud crack. The rest of her bones popped and crunched as they morphed into place. Her heart beat wildly, wet and quick, and he could hear muscles and tendons tearing and ripping under her changing flesh.

It was over in a matter of minutes. The girl was gone and before him stood a large beast. It was slightly taller than a fully grown wolf but nowhere near as big. He could just make out a diamond shaped patch of white fur on its silky, black chest. Yellow eyes fixed on his throat. The beast bared its teeth with a low, rumbling snarl and his senses flooded back to him.

This was an enemy before him. A dangerous predator. One he didn't know. It wasn't a werewolf, he had fought one of those long ago. He readied himself to fight but had barely sunk into a defensive crouch when the beast lunged at him. He didn't have time to react before he felt strong jaws close around his neck. He felt sharp claws digging into his skin. He managed to choke out a strangled plea but the animal continued to jerk its head furiously from side to side.

This isn't right. He thought. He was the predator. The hunter. He was the one to be feared. How many had he killed, knowing that they could never outrun him, or fight him. Young women to old men, all taken with the arrogance and confidence of a creature who knows he sits at the top of the food chain.

His senses dulled and the world around him faded. His last glance was of a dark sky with one single shining star set right in the middle of it.

He didn't live long enough to hear a sharp, distant howl cut through the air.