Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer but the story is all me. All for the love of Bella, Carlisle, Edward, and the rest of the beloved characters of the Twilight saga.
Read and Review, please. Enjoy.
ETERNALLY BOUND FOR THE UNPREPARED
Chapter 1: Awakening
The sweet, floral scent slammed into him without warning, knocking every thought and breath from him with the force of a thousand trains. His eyes widened, staring blankly at the papers in front of him, trying to gain control with every ounce of his body. The scent strengthened, thickening in the halls, clinging to every matter, surrounding him relentlessly. It permeated his white coat, his tousled golden hair, his very being.
Don't breathe. Don't. Breathe.
His hands clenched into tight fists. If he were human, blood would have been dripping from where he fingernails dug into the palm of his hands. There would be indents, but no blood. There would never be blood.
A quick exhale to try to expel that delicious aroma, to no avail. His entire body tensed. His throat burned, scorching his insides, refusing to give him relief.
He knew that his eyes were darkening, hinting at the dark onyx they could become in a matter of seconds, the telltale sign of his bloodlust. The bloodlust he hasn't felt for nearly three hundred years.
Where is this scent coming from?
His head snapped up, his eyes catching on the nurse who has been trying to capture his attention. Her eyes were wide, almost fearful but never without desire. It's the desire that runs through every female he comes in contact with. He watched her swallow.
The nurse's eyes widened at the sight of his dark eyes and she quickly looked away, a blush rising to her cheek, heartbeat quickening to an abnormal rate. She fidgeted with the papers that she was holding in front of her.
"T…These are for you to look at, D-Dr. C-Cullen," her voice was small and a bit high pitched, "There was a truck a-accident at the high school. There a couple of students in the ER. Nothing serious but…" She trailed off, suddenly staring wide at his hands.
Trying to fight the burn in his throat and to control his inner beast, he looked down at his hands and froze. His right hand was clutching a black ink pen that had been snapped in half due to the force of his grip. Ink splattered down from his fingers to his wrist. Black ink against the smooth paleness of his ivory skin.
The dripping pattern…like blood running down a pale throat…
His eyes snapped up to hers again, seeing the caution and the hesitation flashing in them. He quickly sought for composure, forcing his lungs to acquaint themselves with the mouthwatering scent that is quickly drowning him. Damn it. Three hundred goddamn years of control and he was not about to throw it all away now because of some blood- where the hell is it coming from- that smells better than anything he has come in contact with as a doctor. Yes…much better than anything he has ever smelled…ever…
The beast in him that has been suppressed since his rebirth growled in appreciation.
No. No blood is worth killing for and losing my humanity.
Throwing away the ruined pen and taking the papers off the nurse's hands, he forced on a smile- one that he knew dazed humans. He knew these smiles saved him from suspicion and allowed him to main his well-established façade of calm and stability.
"Thank you, Ms. Shore. I'll head there right now," He kept the smile on his face and turned away from Kelly Shore's stammering and blushing face.
Trying to keep his composure, he walked quickly in the direction of the ER. His eyes widened and flashed with each step as he realized that the closer he got to the wide double doors, the stronger the scent became. His steps became labored and he clamped his mouth closed, careful not to inhale. Venom pooled in his mouth and he was quick to swallow it down.
It always gets easier after the first burn.
The thought played like a mantra in his mind as he trudged forward. His hand hesitantly pushed against the swinging door, pausing a moment to regain his senses. The scent impaled him the moment the door swung open. The floral scent mixed with something heavy, laden with musk and fresh earth. It was intoxicating.
God, it was too damn much.
Fuck. It's supposed to get easier after the first burn.
The scorching flames were near unbearable now. Venom pooled. Eyes darkened to an almost impossible shade of black. He held his breath. His eyes darted around the room, unconsciously searching for the reason for his possible fall from humanity. Almost immediately, they snapped to the figure of a girl sitting on one of the beds. His smoldering eyes traveled up her small waist to the tumble of curls flowing down her back. The blouse she wore barely met the top of low cut jeans and he could see a sliver of pale, smooth skin, the two dimples on the small of her back.
It's her. His inner monster groaned at the overwhelming bloodlust clouding his mind and body.
"Dr. Cullen…" His other side- the caring, human side- welcomed the intrusion but the monster did not- it growled and threatened to lunge at the man standing between him and his prey. A shudder went through his body, too quick for the human eye to detect. No, suppress. Suppress it. It's Charlie Swan. He's a good man. He's a protector. No on deserves to die for blood, especially him.
His eyes bore into the man standing next to his temptation.
Charlie Swan. Chief Charlie Swan. His Daughter. Isabella Marie Swan. Bella Swan. Bella Swan. Edward. Bloodlust. Edward. Edward's singer. The girl responsible for turning his son's life upside, for torturing Edward's senses, making him crave something he has given up for seventy years, for making him run from the only home he knew. Without knowing it, she has caused his perfect, confident, brooding son to stumble and fall, completely. All with one whiff of her intoxicating sweetness.
For a moment, his mind threatened to blow open. His brain tried to process all these thoughts, running a mile a minute, trying to catch up to a conclusion- he now understood.
The craving. The bloodlust. He's craving for Bella Swan's blood, the first since his change. Not even after he awoke as a newborn did he feel such powerful lust. It was all consuming. Never wavering. Only growing in need, in want.
Bella Swan. His own damn singer.
He hasn't breathed since the doors opened and he sure as hell was not going to breathe now. Charlie Swan's life was his daughter. She was all he had. Remember…she is a human being- someone's child, someone's love.
Edward has managed to keep her alive all these weeks. You taught him the ways to suppress this need. You are much stronger. One little girl is not going to make you cave. Remember the regret you will feel after you drain her, after see the life drain out of her eyes.
With every ounce of self-control he has developed, his lips curled into a serene smile- how difficult it was, no one will be able to understand- and crossed the few feet leading to the reason for his crumbling self-restraint.
One step. The monster threatened to lunge. No. He kept the smile in place, eyes focused on Charlie rather than the slim girl sitting on the bed.
Another few steps. The agony, the torture. In his lungs- burning his eyes and mind.
The smile is still in place. Clipboard clutched tightly in his hands. Must not think about blood- hot, pulsing, sweet, dripping…
"I see that the Chief's daughter is here." Yes, keep it light. Don't lose it. Not now.
He felt a pair of eyes burning into him from the bed. Searing through layers of clothing, suddenly making his cold body ablaze with warmth. Ignore it. Concentrate.
Charlie's eyes are wild, clouded with panic and regret, "Carlisle. A truck almost maimed my daughter-he choked- make sure she's alright?" Please, see that I haven't screwed up and damaged my precious daughter already. I can't lose her. That was the silent plea.
Still not breathing, Carlisle nodded at Charlie, trying to soothe the man from further self-loathing. The pained eyes of Charlie will help him keep his resolve. Remember those eyes as you tend to Bella. Imagine what those eyes will look like if you take her from him.
His bloodlust did not falter, but his determination strengthened.
Remember those eyes. Don't breathe her in. She's just a little girl. Now, look at her.
His mind was never completely his own again.
One look at Isabella Swan and the perfect world he set up for himself and his family tilted on its axis. It swayed and threatened to crumble into a million pieces, as did his mind as he stared into the chocolate depths of her eyes. The impossibly huge, doe-eyes blinking widely at him, framed by long, thick lashes. Those expressive eyes, filled with curiosity and surprise as they drank in his golden ones.
His gaze travelled down her smooth, ivory face to a button nose, plump lips. Red. Filled with blood, the tantalizing blood still threatening to suffocate him. Full, pouty, red lips in a small 'o' as her wide eyes took in his pale, hard skin and golden eyes. Her gaze, that innocently curious gaze, made his body burn with fire. He trailed down to her pale, slender neck, pulsing with the same blood pumping throughout the rest of her slim frame hugged by a delicate, thin blouse, from her delicate collarbone to her pert breasts– a strangled sound nearly made its way past his lips- to her small waist and finally to full hips and slim legs that trailed on for miles, hidden beneath tight, low cut jeans.
Hot. Burning. Scorching. That intense gaze of hers. Slicing into him, trying to figure him out. Leaving him vulnerable, his secrets waiting to be spoken.
One glance into the mesmerizing eyes of Isabella Swan, and he knew. Even as the monster continued to growl, he knew. In that moment, standing in front of temptation and undeniable perfection, he was unconditionally and irrevocably, changed.