A/N: I was delighted at the feedback, all the favorites, alerts and reviews. Thanks to everyone who has read this story. I decided to continue it, but am not sure if I will leave it as this. Might remain a two-shot or three-shot. I'm not sure, but anyways I hope you appreciate my efforts. Warning: this contains graphic imagery and violent situations. If you do not like, do not read.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

"When the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers." - Oscar Wilde

She stirred, the pain in her head not really gone. Just as fast she had fallen asleep, she had woken up. She didn't understand it, she was so tired that she was sure she would have knocked out for the night. But this tired was the kind of tired that made it that she couldn't sleep, even as much as she wanted to. All she could do was try, she had nothing else.

She held a hand to her face, and cried out weakly. The tension in her skull wouldn't subside, she could feel the blood pounding in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would go away, but it never did. It stayed, ramming her head like a wrecking ball. She wished Edward was there, even though he wouldn't have been able to make it go away. But he could hold her, that was all she wanted.

But even the thought of him didn't make her feel any better. It only made her feel all the more worse because she hadn't thought to think of him. The first face she had seen behind her eyelids were his. His hypnotic eyes, the darkness that drew her in, the pool of his soul. She saw everything when she saw him, he wouldn't go away. She tortured herself thinking of him, but she couldn't stop.

She could only wonder if there was something wrong with her, the masochism she had bestowed upon herself was unthinkable. It seemed she had lost herself to the devil, only she hadn't agreed to sell her soul. She tried to bare the amount of pain she was in, but it was the only thing distracting that kept her from closing her eyes. She didn't want to fall back asleep. She wasn't sure if she could take it.

It seemed not only when she was awake that she was haunted by his penetrating gaze, but even while she was unconscious. Her mind was consumed by the images of him, she couldn't escape. She didn't know what was worse, that she couldn't stop thinking about him, or that she wasn't sure that she could. The mere image of him was burned into her brain, she had never been so afraid for her life.

Bella couldn't believe she had made it out of the Cullen's front door still breathing. It seemed like a dream, tightly holding Edwards hand, as they walked speechless to the Volvo. They didn't say a word to each other, not even cast a glance at one another. Her heart beat was still thumping rapidly in her chest from such adrenaline, and she couldn't contain herself. She stared ahead, not really seeing anything at all, her eyes glazed over.

In that moment, she had just realized she had escaped death by the skin of her teeth. She couldn't believe it, none of it really sinking in. Nothing that had just happened seemed real, it couldn't be. She had never imagined something of this nature would happen, nonetheless to her. She had never really felt in danger in the presence of anyone until now. Her defense mechanism had finally kicked in.

But she knew she couldn't really harm or do any damage to a vampire. It was unthinkable, her being a fragile human. Just like a piece of glass, she could break in an instant, and shatter into pieces. A bubble that could be popped with a measly poke, she simply wasn't made for anything that required force. She was the one that needed saving. But it seemed to her she would never be.

They stayed both in silence, the only sound heard being made from the soft hum of the car. The tires didn't squeak with such speed, instead faded into the background of the road. Outside the windows, the images of where they were passing, blurred. The picture of quiet trees a green mess, although it was so dark at this time at night, she couldn't see anything.

Edward was at a loss of words as his ghostly hands gripped the steering wheel with such uncontrolled strength, he had to restrain himself from snapping it into pieces. His jaw was rigid, and tense. His teeth were clenched, the lining of his neck struggling not to bob. He held himself, fearing that the rage coursing through his veins would frighten her. It was the last thing she needed, and he knew things would never be the same again.

He wasn't sure if he could keep from snapping in the confided space of the car, but he knew he had to control himself, Bella was in the car. He couldn't scare her, she had been through enough in a night, even for a lifetime. He felt the ever more worse because it had been him, himself, that had put her in the danger of exposure. It was his fault that anything had happened, he was risking her life every time he had let her near anyone else who couldn't be trusted.

He should have known Jasper wouldn't have been able to handle any encounter having to do with Bella, the arch of her neck, the warm pulsation of her blood. Edward even at times couldn't bare to keep himself away when it seemed like she was teasing him, but he had to. She was his life, and all that he lived for. He wouldn't lose her, much less allow himself to take away the thing he held most dear in the world.

But he was far too gone to suppress what he had seen on this night.

His hands shook on the steering wheel, he didn't see anything through the front lining of glass. The scene kept replaying in his head.

The crimson they oozed from the slice on her finger, way she had fallen when his arms reached out to push her. He could hear the animistic thoughts coming from Jasper, his teeth already barred. He struggled in Emmett and Rosalie's hold. His head thrashed violently from side to side.

His eyes were the worst of all to see. The darkest of black, he felt the most undying hunger for the innocent human. She crashed into the table full of glass plates, the shards slicing her right arm. Jagged lines of blood trickled down the skin of her arm to her wrist. She whimpered in pain, the piercing broken skin burning. She looked up from seeing the blood, feeling nausea crept in the pit of her stomach, with tears in her eyes.

She was starting to feel dizzy, the walls of her vision were clouded, the last thing she saw before blacking out were the eyes of the predator. She felt her arms give out and completely fell limp to the ground, the blood still gushing from her body. It formed a pool around her, and Edward rushed to tend to her wounds. He wasn't breathing, but he could feel the venom rush into his mouth.

His eyes weren't butterscotch anymore, the atmosphere completely changing the thirst in his throat. He had too, longed to have a taste, but he wouldn't. He couldn't be the monster he had once was, drinking blood from humans, he was a changed man. He wasn't about to ruin it, or even dare to drink from the wine that gave her life, but he was tempted. He was already overwhelmed with not only his thoughts, but with the ones of Jasper.

He wanted to call him a vile creature for even imagining his lips upon her skin, but he was too, imagining the same. He hated himself for it, as he looked down at her bloody form, even the image ever lasting in his mind even when he was pulled away. He wouldn't budge when he felt a hand on his shoulder, that is, not until he heard the thoughts of those surrounding him. He could see himself in there minds, on the brink of relapse. He was shaken out of his daze, horrified at what he must of looked like.

Uncontrollable, rigid, and with the strongest of all hungers. His teeth ached against his gums, they were burning to feel the warmth of the crimson liquid, the ends of his incisors were blazing. He couldn't help but to trace his sore mouth with his tongue, but even the pressure didn't do anything to lessen his pain. He was ashamed that the body he had been sacrificed into was betraying him, this wasn't what he wanted, but he needed it.

Oh what a monster, in the worst of anguish and torture, he had thought. Even a room away he could smell it, smell her blood, but he could hear it too. How her heart beat and pumped the thick elixir, sweet and innocent in her veins. He could her hear her soft voice, quiet, as she talked with his father. She wasn't upset about her injury or even that she had almost been attacked, she was upset about him.

She didn't want to cause him any pain, hadn't meant anything of it, but he knew that it was his fault. He could only blame himself for being as selfish as risking her life by bringing her around those that could only bring her harm. But he hated himself the more because he had caused her to feel like she had something to do with their uncontrollable ways. He wanted nothing more but to go in the other room and pick her up in his arms, and shake her until she had come to her senses.

Why couldn't she realize that if they weren't immortal she could live a normal life? Have a stable relationship? Be able to kiss the one she loved properly? He hated himself, he had taken everything from her, and he couldn't give her anything. He couldn't even understand how she could think he was enough, she deserved better, she could have anyone she wanted. She really didn't see herself clearly, he was the lucky one, she was just stuck with him.

But he didn't want her to realize this, he wanted her all for himself, he wouldn't be able to go one and live without her. He knew he was a self being but all these years without her, and to now finally be with her, and have her taken away would be just like death. Only worse, he would have to keep living, with his memories that could only torture. But it was more than a gift to even remember, his memory would live on, and so would his heart, but he would be dead. He wouldn't have nothing to live for except to wait for her in the wings, if she came back, he wouldn't even care if she had left.

As long as he had her.

The thing that bothered him further was that she wanted to be just like him, he could hear her talking to Carlisle, reasoning that he in fact had a soul no matter what he thought. But he didn't believe he did, and he wouldn't dare threaten to risk losing hers. He wouldn't know what to do if that ended up being the outcome, he was afraid that if he even as much as let his venom in her system, she would entirely change into something he feared.

She would be nothing like the girl he had fallen in love with. Fragile, soft..warm. She would be indestructible, hard and cold. He wouldn't change her, no matter how much she begged, pleaded..or even cried. She wouldn't destroy the person he had fallen in love with, wouldn't take away the thing that made her who she was, he wouldn't be able to survive without her mortality. It was the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

But it was also the thing that was driving him to the point of insanity. It couldn't work both ways, but he decided, he decided for the both of them she wouldn't be changed. It wasn't going to hang on her if something went wrong, if he took to much blood while trying to exchange his venom, if he accidentally killed her. He didn't know the fine line of his strength, but he was sure he wasn't strong enough to not want to take her blood.

He was too absorbed in his own mind to even notice her leaning against the doorway, her hand holding her bandaged arm to her chest, but he could sense someone was watching him. And he, could too, smell the tiny pigments of he could on dream of tasting on his tongue. He looked up from his head in his hands, and watched as she smiled sadly to him, before going and bravely putting her arms around him.

He instantly stiffened as he could smell the aroma of her softness, of her skin, of her flesh. She was calling to him and she didn't even know what she was asking for.

When they arrived at her home, Edward didn't have to sneak into the Swan residence, Charlie was already sound asleep on the couch oblivious to any of the regretful thoughts. He was regretting letting her anywhere near him. He was regretting letting her anywhere near someone so powerful. He regretted not being able to protect her. But the thing he regretted the most was that, he regretted not being able to change the thing that entirely consumed his being. Immortality.

He wasn't anything to be considered normal, he wasn't anything that deserved to feel humanity, he wasn't anything that should have been kept to live. He was an obscurity, an abomination, he was just like him.

The darkness of twilight, the dusk of gray was now surrounding, the clouds almost deadly in size. The rain had stopped before, but now it was only going to get worse when it finally hit. But the cool crispness of the air didn't dare mask or suffocate, even have the power to hide the blood boiling in the small room above him. He could, too, hear small noises that urged him on to climb the jagged tree branch. She was whimpering, almost moaning in a sense. But not in pleasure, in pain. He liked that fact more than he should have, not that he felt any guilt for what was to come.

He couldn't wait to smell the fear come off her waves, he wouldn't do anything in the slightest to try to alter her emotions, he wanted her as vulnerable as she was. He wanted her weak, and begging. He wanted her to cry; cry for him to stop, cry for him let her die, cry for anything could save her. But nothing would be able to make him stop, they could try, even attempt to be able to have the power. But if they came in any distance of risking his chance, coming any close to surpassing his plans, they would die.

He would make sure of it with his bare hands. She would watch too. She would be grateful it was them and not her, then she would give him anything he wanted. But he didn't want it without a fight, there was a certain thrill that came with the chase. Something about the want that made everything all the more wild, all the more desirable.

His boot-clad legs brushed the weakly staggered vines along the ground, the heavy thud of his steps leaving footprints in the soil. There was a strange gleam in his eye, almost a red glint in the fading horizon of sunset. It was one of those nights that could only tell you that the worst was yet to come. And there he was, only a some odd number of feet below her, but not for long.

He reached out suddenly, pushing himself of the ground with a leap, he grabbed onto a branch latching himself on the tree. The heels of his boots kicked against the bark as he hosteled himself up, his lethal movements bring him further upward. His head of honey blond hair reached the bottom sill of the window, the glass frosted at the sensitive edges, but he could see; see her withering, almost convulsing in nothing more than a camisole tank visible above the blanket.

If he didn't see that her hooded eyes were not fully closed, but slightly open, her top eyelid not fully touching her water line, he would have bee convinced that she was having a nightmare. Even if she was, nothing would compare to him, folklore and monsters weren't anything to be afraid of next to the real creatures of the night. He couldn't help but to grin evilly, the slight jagged edge of canines biting into the flesh of his own lips.

He didn't bleed; instead teased himself with the slight touch of pressure, he simply couldn't wait to sink his teeth into her. The bottom of his knee now was firmly planted on the flimsy tree, his tall figure making his hunch slightly so that his head wouldn't get caught in the stray branches. He could see from outside that there was a latch that was meant to be some sort of safety; a lock.

But it didn't stand a chance against his deadly strength. He didn't have to think twice or even hesitate before taking the small ledge and lifting it until the metal broke apart into separate pieces. A single noise tore her away from wiggling around, shuffling in her sheets, until she lifted her head; her eyes searching.

He was inside before she could even comprehend what the light thud of noise had been.

He towered over the small height of the single bed, his stance menacing in the dark. The weight of his footsteps made her shiver, clutching at the duvet nearing her chest. Her lips were trembling, her eyes teary; she didn't have it in her to risk her chances at live by blinking. Anything could happen in that moment of time; it was almost too precious. He could crush her in seconds, break her bones causing them to shatter into her lungs, drain her dry with a single swoop of his head.

She wasn't exactly breathing; she was panting unevenly. She couldn't fully comprehend what was going on; not really knowing where to draw the precise line between what was reality and what was fiction. She didn't want to believe what she was seeing with her own eyes, she would have found it more comfortable to know she was going insane, it couldn't be real. He couldn't be real.

But she was too reluctant to test her theory, she could only shuffle against the hard headboard, watching as his eyes seemed to glow in the misty darkness. She could see the narrow passage of his nose, the curve of his perfectly pink lips and the outline of his angular jaw. Even with her fuzzy vision, his features; his bones, seemed sharp, almost too outstretched for his skin.

Her chest moved with her uneven breaths, the salty liquid of tears welled up in her eyes, but she knew nothing of what she could control herself of doing wasn't going to help her. The sight of her weakness made his lips tremble, she was practically giving herself over to him with the way she was looking at him. The midnight sun of moonlight reflected in her eyes, there was no one here to save her. She felt it before she could even think.

"I would tell you not to be afraid, that I am not going to hurt you. But then I would be lying and I am no liar," his southern drawl crawled up her spine and sent shivers down her back. "Trust me, I am a man of my word." The grin that he suddenly wore made her gasp and bring up the thin covers barely concealing the milk cream of her collarbones.

"No, , don't. I'll call for my father!" The grin disappeared from his lips before she could open her mouth to scream bloody murder. She would do no such thing. She would be a fool to think that would stop him, that her weak attempt to threaten him would faze him, that she had anything of a chance at escaping him. A fool.

"Try. I'll snap his neck before you even get a word out, and then you will wear the guilt of his death. Go ahead, I'm not the one who is going to be killing him. You are." Her face was scrunched up in sheer misery, for she knew he was right and that there was nothing that could help her. He was going to have her, whether she wanted it or not. But she had to do something, she had to fight.

Only how?

"Jasper, you wouldn't do that. I know you. I know you can feel my pain, and that you will feel the same as I. Please, you wouldn't want that?" Her words weren't be heard as far as Bella was concerned. He wasn't listening to her, instead he was walking slowly over to the left of her bed. She cowered into the right, trying her mightiest to make sure she made herself as small as possible. But if he were to come close, she would try to shove him off.

He could feel the anxiousness in her skin, he could see it in the way she was holding herself back and hear it in her shaky words. Nothing would do. She wasn't actually thinking she would stand a chance? That she would even get him down, even for a second? He wasn't Edward, he wasn't afraid of hurting her. He wanted to.

He held a ghostly finger to his lips and closed his eyes, shifting his footsteps until he was at the end, his legs touching the outer edge of her clothed mattress. "Shh," he cooed softly to her, "If you knew me like you say you do, you'd know that is all I want. To feel.

"To feel your pain, to feel you struggle, to feel you almost com-bust with all of the emotion you keep so dear to your heart. Your humanity. I can't feel, I am not human, but you are. And what better choice that such a lovely creature.

"See - you shouldn't feel so insecure, or inadequate - but I'm glad you do. It feeds me, it drives me, such things of which I could never know of."

Edward picked up his head from the lion with shortness of breath, the blood thickly coated around the shape of his mouth. He could feel his eyes changing, from the darkest of black to the topaz he had known for almost a good century. The coppery taste of crimson to humans, tasted like wine on his tongue, but it was blood from an animal; the kind of wine you got a from a box in the place of an aged bottle.

It wasn't what he had wanted to drink or drink from, but he wouldn't indulge himself in anything but. He was lucky enough that it was a lion he had found wandering along the mountain side instead of a lone deer. It would do to satisfy him, but even that of a wild animal couldn't bring him to his knees. He wanted more, and more, but even with more, the taste wasn't in the least the same of what a human could provide.

He needed to drink to live, but he didn't drink for the pleasure of the kill.

He wasn't that kid of person, or man, but if he had ever told you he didn't have the urge to run, or the longing to capture something in his arms and tightly squeeze until he felt the bones from within break, and dig his teeth as deep as he could...he would be lying.

That was exactly what his body wanted to do, he wanted to have and to hold that kind of signature power, but it wasn't in him to give himself over. He wouldn't even if that was the last thing he could do or ever do, not even if there was a promise of no consequences to come. He couldn't do that to Bella, he couldn't.

He shouldn't have to feed this often or this much, but the longer he stayed with Bella, he was risking her life and his. If he had ever felt that she was in danger near him, it wouldn't just be the end of her, he would surely die from just the pain of knowing she was gone at his hands and his hands alone. It was his nature, but even with knowing it was natural for him, he fought with all he had to resist. But his control wasn't everything of what it used to be.

He dropped the carcass that still felt warm to the touch to the ground and continued on, his ears listening to the sounds of the night.

She couldn't look away from his eyes, they were holding hers to his, almost like a fish on a hook - motionless when dead. She wasn't so sure if she could hear or if she was breathing, or even if she were real. In that moment, she wasn't really believing anything was. It surely didn't feel like anything like this would happen to someone like her, if anything like this could happen at all, was everything she had known as a child really a lie?

Did monsters really exist? And if so, could they scavenge? Did they come out at night? Did he really want her? Why did he want her? He had already told her how he felt, and why he felt they way he did about her, but Bella was far from comprehending. His almost soft spoken words, said so gently, were laced were the evilest of meanings.

"Now, that you're quiet. Should we proceed and continue?"

"What?" her small voice quivered with confusion, she didn't want to know what he had in mind. But even with her reluctance to find a source of thought, she knew that whatever he was thinking, she was not going to like it and could only mean the worst. She started to realize, even with her spine lightly hitting the wooden headboard, she wasn't that far from him. In fact, she could feel the chill of his body in the air, making the rosy buds beneath her camisole rise.

She tried her hardest to remain modest and conceal her body from the hunger of his eyes, but just as she pulled the sheet up further up her chest, she was stopped by the ice of his fingers. Before she could gasp, his lips silenced her, quickly pressing against her own roughly until she felt the rawness of the skin break, the flesh immediately disturbed.

She pushed at his chest, her fragile fingers nothing but a caress to the hardness that was this dead man, now an immortal creature. Her lips fought, but his teeth were faster and sharper, catching her bottom lip and biting down with the quickest of sliver from the razor enamel.

She started to feel the prickle of tears in her eyes and the sound of a growing sob in her throat, the sound almost a victory in his ears. He continued on with drawing her blood, feeling the heat of the wine on the edges of his tongue. The taste, the taste was more than divine, more than anything he had even imagined. He was savoring all he could take without killing her. Where would the fun in that be?

"Dad!" The sound of her plea, and cry was caught in her throat. Jasper had extracted his teeth and now his face was all she could see. The almost playful taunting in his eyes, the bubble of laughter rising to a chuckle from his throat made her flinch beneath him.

"Do really wish death on that poor old man?" his question was a soft whisper, almost deathly. The threat in his voice was apparent and no way a lie. She knew, she knew.

"Why?" her voice broke, she gave her silent defeat, gracefully. Without another word, he slipped his almost numb feeling fingers beneath the soft cloth that was draped over her skin.

"Shh, my darling. No more of this."

"Pleas-se," she whimpered, her lips stinging from his forceful mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes trying to search, trying to see what the thing that was inside him wanted. Why was she the one who would suffer? Why was she the one he choose? Why was it that she had to feel pain?

He stopped her from wasting her breath further, running his cool thumb over her bottom lip, catching the precious droplet of blood that didn't need wasting. He brought the crimson to his face and inhaled and breathed in the aroma of her infectious liquor. He closed his eyes to the scent before taking his thumb into his mouth.

He was tempted to suckle what he could, he wanted everything, not a drop was to be gone. But why resist the wine right in front of him? He fought with animal instincts before deciding her blood wasn't all he wanted. The strange happening that had attracted attention to his lower regions, the heat radiated and burned him was the calling of her silken thigh.

She was moving, too. Even if she thought that wiggling around was going to get her anywhere, she was wrong. It was getting her into more trouble, it was making his loins burn with need and desire. His hand itched from her face, cradling the hollow edge of her jaw, pulling her face closer to his; bringing his teeth that could end her life close again to her lips. His thumb kneaded the tension in her neck, moving further down, bringing his sharp nail to tease her skin.

Bumps rose on her along her translucent neck, and fear screamed from her eyes. There was no more with pleaded, she had to will him.

"Jasper," her voice brought his eyes up from watching the vein of her artery pump right ever so near his mouth. His eyes darted up to where she was having difficulty keeping her breathing evenly, and she had almost had him if he didn't sense the mystery of her anxiety that was about being so near him, it was about getting away from him.

He brought his forearm under her neck and pressed it against her throat, feeling his small hands clutch at his unbreakable hold. "You have better chance of surviving, if you would just cooperate." His voice was strong and hard, sending her into an unspoken panic. It was finally sinking in, nothing would stop him. There was no chance of getting away, and no chance of anyone coming to save her. Edward coming to save her.

He saw her stomach struggle, and lift with her feeble attempts to take his forearm off her her windpipe and he finally lessened and took away his limb. When she could finally breathe, he moved his hand down her collarbone and to her breast, taking and cupping it in his hand. While he felt her gasp with sudden surprising sensation, his fingers slowly trailed down her arm, down her hip and caught up in the delicious curve of her womanhood.

"It will hurt, but I know - deep down inside - you want me to pierce you. You want me to go inside, to stretch and devour the depths of your pink flesh."

He lowered his head above her cream bosom, taking a pert nibble between his teeth, still clothed and bit down. The fabric turned to shambles and the bruising red came to his mouth.

He hovered over her small form, the skin of his cool body grazing her bare chest. She shook beneath him, but not just from the lack of warmth he would have provided if he were a human, but from the suggestive leer on his face. His inhumanly hard; almost granite, surface seemed to crush her. She was on the verge of suffocation under him, feeling the heavy weight of him hold her down against her will, pinning her to the bed.

She didn't struggle; they were past that, she had to be. Her fathers life was at stake, she would do anything to save him, and everything to make sure he was all right. But there was an evil voice whispering to her in the back of her mind; What if he had already done something to him? Was he alright? If so, how was he still sleeping when she needed him? She couldn't yell, or even open her mouth to speak. She was have been frozen if her body would allow her to do so, but with Jasper so close and so personal, it wasn't possible. But her life hanged in the balance as well.

His lean muscular legs dug into her thighs, his hands keeping a firm grip on her wrists, that were sure to bruise, bound to the bed. The only thing that kept her from fully sobbing was the pressure of his pelvis on her stomach. She could feel her length, long and hard, almost like wood stabbing into her opening. It caused her almost immediate pain as the head of him poked through between her lips.

She feared at any moment, he would thrust deep and tear her insides apart, but she wasn't able to brace herself even to think of it. But instead of diving into the hot flesh beneath him, he was intent on demoralizing her by inching further along inside, toying with her by coating the sensitive pucker with her juices. On the tip of him, he could feel the pre-cum of venom ooze, he dragged it along her clitoris and back to the very point where he could make her bleed.

She was crying, her chest shaking, her pert nibbles almost raw looking from having his mouth on them.

He pulls up his eyes from watching there bodies a-line in union over and over, feeling ever more so each time going inside her, her muscles tightening around his shaft; the consuming heat of her around him, clenching and pulling him deep. She couldn't escape.

A/N: There you go! I worked really hard on this, please leave me some feedback and I might continue. I see something in the way this story is working for me.