Essenza Del Lupo~

Everyone is doing their Story titles in different languages now, I thought I'd join the craze.

AU- Personalities will be somewhat different, especially Rosalie's. Canon couples, except for one. No humans, except for Bella.


"Now, now; don't be like that!" Emmett guffawed into the face of one rabid looking elk.

I sighed with my chin in my palm, watching from a few yards away, perched on my rock.

Winter was rearing it's head signalling the close to another year; something inconsequential to a Vampire, however. I worried my lip with my razor teeth, unable to break my own marble-like skin.

My husband enjoyed the simpler things in life, hunting and playing; he stayed unswervingly true to his real lifetime, a resident of the 40s. I loved him, as much as I could love Emmett. It was simple, our life together--comfortable, spare for the lacklustre stretch of days circling around our immobile lives that left me feeling bored and--although not possible--withered.

"Breakfast of champions." He grinned, striding up to me with the limp, furry animal in his ogre grasp.

I grimaced and shook my head in amusement.

"Nothing like some fresh blood to sooth the soul, is there?" I murmured, my eyes wandering again.

I imagined, as I often did, what life would be like without my partner; my life mate. It concerned me that I could see a future as such so easily. I had prayed for a relationship, a marriage, full of depth and mutual understanding. I understood Emmett perfectly; the problem was that is was too easy.

He worked through life with a constant smile on his face; a feature of himself he shared with me and that sometimes brought happiness out in me, too. I don't know if I was being selfish or if I craved drama, but I couldn't help my moods from fluctuating when it came to Emmett. At some points I would love him more than anything just for being him, but at other points, which occurred more frequently these days, I would find myself wishing for more.

The problem was that he would only see skin-deep with me.

He thought I was beautiful, he thought I was stubborn and pickheaded. He didn't know that I felt isolated sometimes; only Edward knew that, but he had the advantage of telepathy and tried his hardest to ignore it, especially if it came from my direction.

Emmett had only scratched the surface. He hadn't realised after over six decades with me, that there wasn't simply my looks about me, nor the personality I possessed in the presence of others.

He never asked.

I felt like I always ended up where I started.

"What's up Rosie?" he asked, percieving my distracted attitude.

I sighed long and heavy before moving lithely to my feet and nudging the dead elk with the toe of my boot. It's long, pink, grotesque tongue lolled out of it's mouth. I could smell it's breath; awful.

But it's heart was silent and it barely held any appeal when it was fresh. The blood would have cooled, infinitesimally, but enough to make the taste even worse. Deciding against more food, I took Emmett's hand listlessly and allowed my legs to carry me swiftly back home.

I didn't want or need perfection.

What I wanted was intensity and passion, more so than just physical gratification. But for some reason, that also remained in short supply. Emmett certainly sated my needs in that prospect, thankfully, or I'd have surely gone insane by now, but the metaphysical facet of lovemaking. The deep down-to-your-bones need for that person. Sadly, I couldn't seem to find it in Emmett.

Arriving home in our usually obtuse manner, Emmett stomped unnecesarily through the living room. The spotless, precise state of the house left little to the imagination to a commoner, not that we had many visitors that didn't belong to the supernatural faction. It felt so inhuman, much like the creatures that lived within the walls, but as if nothing resided inside at all.

It held little personality, spare for Edward's enormous piano off to the corner. I had wanted to learn for a long time now, noticing the solace my brother took while he composed and played for Esme and Bella. I felt like a distant soul in their company. I didn't matter half as much to them as they did to eachother.

I was the sullen sister; the one who was always so full of herself.

Edward knew who I was, really, but he dare not delve to deeply or he'd find himself in tremendous trouble.

And then there was also the fact that he and I could NEVER be romantically involved. I hardly saw him that way and he'd found his mate anyway. Alternatively, I could move away from the telepath, the second one in the entire world, and live alone for a few decades.

But Carlisle reassured me I was vital to our little coven, too.

I was tenacious. I rolled my eyes.

And pushing aside my puruit of self-discovery--how cliche for a never-aging Vampire--Emmett wouldn' be too pleased with the idea of me leaving him at home. I simply couldn't handle having him there while I tried to search for myself. It would defeat the purpose of leaving home in the first place.

I needed to understand where I was going, and what I was doing with this limitless life of mine.

If I had any reason to keep it.

At times, it seemed futile.

Had I been back to my selfish, human self--I would have enjoyed the prospect of living forever, of meeting a man like Emmett.

But the naivety of being human had long since disappeared from my mind and I now I realise the real meaning of immortality.

What the price was.

I was living an unnatural half-life; and I found myself thinking the way Edward occassionally does--thinking our existence an abomination, against the laws of nature.

If I was given this opportunity, why couldn't it have turned out better? Was I still waiting for fulfillment and would I have to find it with my own hands? Or was I being ungrateful?

If so, I couldn't help it.

The days followed monotonously and without many interesting events to dwell on.

Thursday preceeded Wednesday and then it somehow reached the next week, which molded into the subsequent month of November.

How time passed so fleetingly, yet somehow always painfully slow. Some days were exactly like others and I began to wander off on tangents for weeks at a time.

A significant anniversary loomed on the horizon, however, which shadowed the mediocrity of my average life.

The date I was changed--it was early December.

I sat on the white leather sofa, counting the pixels in the television screen and mulling over how that day could have gone so differently. I did not realise then, that today would begin a chain reaction of events--destiny, Carlisle would like to label it--that would have nothing to do at all with the connotation of my transformation all those years ago.

I was alone in the house apart from Esme, my feet propped lazily ontop of the glass coffee table. The wind shifted direction suddenly and the house was hit with a waft of something predominantly animalistic. I scrunched my nose up, not in distaste but in curiosity as the smell became stronger. Esme appeared at the front door, but her face held a subtle look of revulsion. I didn't find the scent that repugnant, but apparrently she did.

Sounds drifted on the wind, paired with the woodsy, furry smell; I stood up in preparation as Esme so willingly opened the door to the foreign scent.

Voices, deep and husky.

"The wolves are here," Esme declared.

Ah--understanding; I had never encountered the wolves, personally. The day the Cullen's created the treaty with them, I had been inclined to stay home from hunting and missed the following agreement they arranged.

Wolves were natural enemies to Vampires.

One, dark-skinned body jogged up the driveway, surprisingly fast for a half-breed. I assumed he was here on business. He made it, finally, up the porch steps and onto the landing, clad in cut-off denim shorts and nothing else.

His muscular chest and arms drew my eyes as I walked hesitantly to Esme's side. I folded my arms across my chest, indicating that I wasn't into making buddies with the mutt.

My eyes finally made it to the top of his head, which dominated the door frame, towering at least two and a half feet above my own head. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Is Bella here?" he enquired grudgingly.

"No, dear, she's with Edward," Esme answered cordially.

His mouth became a hard line. I assumed they were in their meadow and this boy didn't seem too happy about it, either.

"This won't take long," he muttered, striding past us to walk inside.

He looked around a bit before turning back to us. Esme closed the door behind me and I stared dubiously at the man-child, feet covered with dirt, his jet-black hair mussed and unevenly cut.

His eyes beared a bitter resentment of sorts, an unusual quality in one so young. For some reason it made me pity him. He'd obviously had no choice in his future, just the same as me.

"Our pack has been scouting the area around the Swan's house for weeks, there has been no further leads as to the red-headed blood sucker's location," he stated, I hissed menacingly.

He smirked and carried on.

"I think it would be appropriate if you let us take a look around your side...properly."

I shared a look with Esme.

"So, that means you have to butt the hell out and let us do our job while we help you kill this bitch."

Esme shot him a disapproving look; it was so like Esme to do that, even if the kid was a mutant.

"We don't take orders from a pack of dogs." I shot out, levelling my gaze with his.

"Get with the program, leech," he sneered.

"You called for our help--you either take it and give us right of way or we leave you to deal with this shit." he took a dangerous step closer.

Something inside me sparked; like two rocks colliding, striking one another to create a kindling. Witholding a gasp, I took a step back, fisting my hands and glaring.

He chuckled and winked condescendingly.

"Enough, you two--Jacob, thank you for passing the message on, I'll be sure to tell the others." Esme said softly, smiling maternally at the dog.

I sighed reluctantly.

"Don't forget to inform your pack leader." I sneered.

He stopped just a foot away from me, his smirk faltering and forming into a frown, creasing his forehead and casting his heavy brown eyes into shadow under his brows.

His voice, formerly layered with a deep loathing and distrust, came out unsure and wary.

"I will." his eyes tightened minisculely.

I found myself wanting his trust.

And with a curt nod in Esme's direction and a puzzled scowl at me; he broke into a run the minute his feet hit the gravel outside.

I was bewildered and yet...intrigued.

Could a bond form and bloom from a seed of hostility?