Hey. I found this Chapter saved on my computer, I wrote it around a year ago. I thought I would publish it, but doesn't necessarily mean I will continue writing this story. Enjoy.


Chapter Twelve:

EPOV:

Every time I thought of how my mate was wrapped up in satin sheets on my bed, a prideful grin stretched across my face. I felt a surge of triumphance course through my entire being. My mate was with me. Here. And she was mine. My mind kept replaying the scene of my fingers lightly circling her clitoris, her soft mewls playing in my head like a broken record.
I vowed to never let her out of my sight again; I wouldn't be able to handle another separation.

I remember, seventeen years ago, when the Volturi alerted me about my beautiful mate's birth.
I was in Italy at the time, accompanied by a cool autumn night and a crescent shaped moon. Tanya Denali's manicured claws scratched down the length of my back and high pitched moans left her lips with each thrust. White linen sheets billowed around our feet and a mosaic of clothes littered the carpeted floor.
I heard my brick-of-a-phone ring from the beds headboard, the screen partially lightening up the room. I ignored the black square at first; too focused on Tanya's DD breasts. The ringing died out as I picked up my speed. Tanya wrapped her legs around my waist and linked her ankles as my phone started up again. I glared at it, growling in frustration, and snatched it from the headboard, pressing the 'answer' button and snarling into it. "What." I spat.
"Hello, Edward." Aro Volturi spoke from the other side of the phone. I growled in frustration and held the phone between my shoulder and my ear, pinning Tanya's arms above her head.
"I apologise for the late night call, but I have urgent news." He spoke formally, as usual. "We have found your mate."
The phone dropped from between my ear and shoulder and I stilled my movements. It was silent, except for Tanya's complaining. I rolled off of the strawberry blonde, despite her protests, climbing back into my jeans and sliding on a T-shirt and a pair of shoes. I turned to face the annoying blonde on my bed. "Go home, Tanya." She gaped at me. I raised my eyebrows impatiently. Her eyes narrowed as she slithered off the bed, letting the towel fall to show off her size 2 figure.
"Fine." She spat. I chucked her dress and stilettos at her, not bothering with 'good bye' as I strode out the door of my master suite. My mate had been born. She was alive. And she was mine. My lips curled into a grin at the last thought. My brother, Emmett, had been alerted of his mates birth two months ago. Since then he had learned that his Mate was from Santa Barbra, California, and was called Rosalie Hale. I was looking forward to my mate's seventeenth birthday.

The memory was still fresh in my mind, as though it had only happened yesterday. Even though I was thrilled with having finally found my mate, I was still displeased with Isabella's behavior this morning. Carlisle had warned me that she may act out or become aggressive due to the change in lifestyle and being separated from her family. I growled at that last thought. I was her family.
I strode into the large mocha wooden kitchen, pausing momentarily as I decided what to make Isabella for breakfast. It was 5:30am, and soft pastels of blue and pink were highlighting the kitchen through the bay window. I opened my large fridge, my ruby red eyes scanning each food item with distaste. All the food items in my kitchen were new, all to cater for Isabella.
After being alive for over five hundred years, I had mastered the ability to cook pretty well, and I knew that every meal for Isabella should be perfected.
I retrieved ingredients from both fridge and pantry, settling on French toast with banana, blueberries, and cinnamon, accompanied by a cup of hot cocoa. I cracked eggs into bowls and sliced thick pieces of baguette, my mind wandering to different scenarios featuring Isabella and I.

Isabella's legs were wrapped around my waist, her crossed ankles digging into my flesh. Her hands pulled and tugged at my hair, her back pressed flat against the shower wall. Water droplets cascaded down her ivory skin. I thrust into Isabella, her head falling backwards as a moan slipped from between her lips. My fingers dug into her silky skin like talons, supporting her hips and legs, while my mouth aggressively attacked her neck.

I clenched my eyes shut, clearing the scene from my head before I ran upstairs to my room and took Isabella in every way imaginable. One part of me liked that idea. Fuck it. All of me liked that idea. But I wanted the pleasure of Isabella coming to me first.

When I entered my bedroom, Isabella was still asleep, the faded pink hues of sunrise highlighting her angelic complexion. I set down the silver tray with Isabella's breakfast on the coffee coloured bedside table, observing her sleeping form. She was curled into a ball, sheets tangled around her legs, hair fanned out across the pillow. I sat on the edge of the bed and began running my hand slowly up her creamy thigh. She sighed in her sleep, burrowing her head deeper into her silk pillow.
"Isabella." I spoke in a hushed voice, a smile creeping along my face as my mate furrowed her eyebrows in refusal. "Wake up, love." I brushed a stray off hair from her face, letting my hand linger on her cheek while her eyes fluttered open. She groaned in frustration, her dazed brown orbs taking in her surroundings. I smirked when her eyes landed on me, widening considerably. I leaned over her half-awake form, planting a chaste kiss to her forehead. I pulled back slightly so that I could watch the fear creeping into her brown eyes. I felt my lips tug into a smirk.
"Good morning, love." I sat upright and watched her push herself back against the headboard, running a hand through her messy locks. She glanced wearily around the room, bringing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She watched me silently, an array of emotions flickering in her eyes. Fuck, what I would give to read her thoughts.
I nodded to the tray of food on the bedside table. "I made you breakfast. Eat up."
I watched as Isabella nimbly examined the plate of food, poking at the egg-toasted pieces of baguette with a fork. Her eyes flickered to me, narrowing slightly, before crossing her legs and balancing the tray on her lap.
"I'm going to assume you didn't drug this food." She spoke in a monotone voice, though I could hear the edge beneath each word. I didn't like her attitude.
"What am I supposed to do here?" her voice still hadn't lost the bitterness, as I watched her stab at a blueberry maliciously with her fork.

Some ideas ran through my mind. Naked ideas. Which involved not leaving my bed for a couple of days.

I glanced over-exaggeratedly round the room, pursing my lips. "Well, there are books, there's a TV, and of course-" I gestured grandly to myself "-yours truly." I winked at Isabella, watching her roll her eyes in annoyance.
She chewed her lip and glanced down at her lap, prodding at her food with her knife and fork. Something was wrong.
"What is it?" I couldn't disguise the concern that crept into my voice. Her wide doe-eyes flickered to mine, sparkling with moisture.
She shook her head, chewing on the bottom of my lip as she glanced wearily around the room.


I haven't actually written a complete ending to this chapter because I couldn't think of anything at the time. Feel free to make something up in your head.
Sorry if this chapter seems to kind of waffle.