Twilight Fan Fiction / Twilight Fan Fiction / Twilight Fan Fiction ❯ Sacrifice ❯ Sacrifice ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
** Disclaimer-
I do not claim any rights to the characters, or references made in this story. All credits go to the author of the Twilight series - Stephanie Meyer.
However, I do claim the rights to the storyline of this story and any additional characters aside from the ones feature in Twilight as mine.
Sacrifice contains mature adult content that is not suitable for anyone under 18. Please be aware. If dark romance, angst and sex scenes disturb you, please do not read.
Other than that, thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy reading. Please leave reviews, because every writer knows.. Feedback is the fuel and inspiration that keeps us going!
Thank you.
Prologue
Dreary echoes of faint chatters could be heard resonating off various drunken men and women below. Beyond the closed bedroom doors of a dimly lit room, crystal wine glasses filled with blood laced liquor met the regal lips of 200 attendees, all gathered in stressed unison on a chilly crescent moon of a cloudy November sky.
Tonight, they feast, they drink and they sacrifice for the celebration of Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan.
Just one week prior, the hasty decision was made and finalized between both delegates of each houses in hopes of bringing truce to the Crusade once and for all. Over the last two centuries, a raging war between the stone carved caves of the Undead and the surrounding rivers of Mystics has brought nothing but endless nights of gruesome deaths and bloodshed throughout the lands. The war was a ghastly battle between earth and water over the grounds of Volterra, hatred raging generation after generation of bloodlines. It was a fight for territory, power, and revenge for lost loved ones between these two natural elements of life- earth, and water -vampires, and their peacekeepers.
Times gone by, these two elements once originated from the heavens above as gifts endowed to the universe, both meant to exist harmoniously in unison as the foundation of good and bad among the Volturi natives. The vampires were cast to rule the lands, granted with the permission to procreate and establish life among the planes of Volterra. Whereas, the Mystics were peacekeepers, guardian angels sent by the Heavens above in order to ensure that there was peace throughout the lands. The Mystics provided the Vampires with ancient, purified blood, and in return, the Vampires kept the Mystic's life source alive by allowing themselves and their offspring to be tamed of their hunting instincts by cleansing in the holy Mystic waters running throughout the borders of the land.
The Gods had destined that both species drew life from one another, for neither shall live if the other dies.
However, through decades of corruption, scandals and treachery among the rulers of both species, the once united kingdom of Volterra began to fall apart. Hatred was formed, resulting in blood vendettas that lasted for two centuries, leaving not even the sparing the unborn.
Countless innocent lives were taken as a result of this deadly Crusade, and over the expansion of thousands of years, the lost souls of victims and unaccounted deaths began to rise, disrupting the balance of Heaven and Hell itself. There were those born innocent that were forced to kill among the evil, sinning their hands in blood, growing more and more evil with each kill. Whereas those already evil fell deeper into the heaves of darkness, tarnishing their already diminishing souls into becoming a foul entity of their own.
Alas, the Gods came to a decision and signaled their commands in order to end this Crusade once and for all. In the shadow filled depths of the Volterra mountains, and the murky castle beneath Mystic waters, enchanted flames engulfed the temples of the imperial grounds. Once extinguished, the ashes formed the inescapable terms that neither side dared to violate.
Three thousand four hundred fifty six. Three thousand four hundred fifty seven.
It had been almost an hour that Isabella sat waiting, rigidly perched on top of oxblood satin sheets, counting the flicker of the flame of a lonesome candle resting on top of the dresser across from the bed. She studied the single flame with impassive interest as it swept left and right, casting eerie shadows upon the vacant room with each draft of air that blew through the half open window.
Her pale fingers gripped tightly on to the soft white lace of her dress. Each hand was skillfully woven in expensive material. Interlacing patterns meant to be adorned only by the highest ranking nobles of Mystic standards.
Earlier in the night, she arrived alone at the caves of Volterra wearing only a singular teardrop pendant, naked and draped in sacred angel feathers, as is custom of her people during ritual marriage sacrifice. She laid face up and immobile on a crystallized platform, her russet hair cascading downwards gracefully along one side of the platform's edge. She was heaved forward into the cave's opening by the enchanted power of flowing mist and water. From there, half a dozen deus, vampire slaves, escorted her to an underground bathing chamber where she was immediately serviced to a bath. Then they dressed her in a revealing lace halter dress, the Volturi's version of a wedding dress. It had been an unbearable experience, almost painful to say the least. She recalled helplessly standing there like a puppet, staring lifelessly into the cave wall, unable to move as the many servants prepared her in every way.
Upon finishing, they guided her through a narrow hallway leading into a singular bedroom chamber. They sat her on top of the large bed, and then without another glance, quickly scurried away.
Isabella waited until she was finally alone for the perfect opportunity to do what she knew was her only way out of this dreadful destiny. She reached for the water crystal pendant chained around her neck and without a second thought, snapped it in half. The pendant revealed a fine white powder, the most toxic poison from the water lilies of her Mystic land. She wasted no time ingesting the substance into her body and closed her eyes with bitter relief. Finally her mission was finished, for by the break of dawn, she would have successfully accomplished her assassination. Come sunrise, she would die along with her future husband, Prince Edward Cullen.
Now all Isabella had to do was sit patiently and wait. It had been over an hour since she ingested the poison and if her calculations were correct, the substance should be well on its way through her bloodstream by now. She slowly began to feel faint, her heartbeat rapidly slowing as her vision began to blur. Isabella had to steady herself by leaning against the bedpost in order to keep herself from collapsing.
If this vampire took any more time, she was afraid she would not make it on time to see her mission through.
At that exact moment, the bedroom doors swung opened allowing a gush of icy cold, stale air to rush into the room. At last, the immortal prince had come.
Prince Edward Cullen stood in front of the bedroom door, debating on whether or not he should go in. He had spent a majority of the night drinking his mind away, pointlessly mingling with drunken guests in order to prolong this inevitable moment when he must see her.
Everything had happened so rapidly that he did not have time to register his appalling situation. Tonight was the night he was forced to sacrifice his freedom and wed his clan's ultimate adversary- a royal Mystic princess he had never seen, spoken to, or knew anything about.
Edward cringed at the prospect of having to spend eternity with her, and the thought of having to drink from her in mere moments made him sick to his stomach. How did he get himself into this situation and why were the Gods punishing him, of all people, in order to diminish this war?
He glanced over at the corner of the room and saw her sitting on top of his bed, her back to him. He briefly noted long tendrils of curled hair entwined with strands of gemstones cascading down her small frame. She sat rigidly still staring aimlessly at the wall before her, showing no signs of acknowledging that he was there.
Edward walked quietly into the bedroom and closed the stone doors behind him. He set his glass of blood wine onto the dresser next to the door and made his way to the window where he draped his cloak on a hook. He turned back to stare at her and debated whether or not he should make a run for it through the window. Freedom is so close, yet so far away.
With a heavy sigh, he hesitantly walked across to his 'bride', his heavy foot steps echoing soft thumps throughout the room. With a steady hand, he placed it on her shoulder in order to catch her attention.
A startled gasp escaped Isabella's lips as she jerked away and met his blood shot eyes. Prince Edward hovered over her, in all of his royal crimson glamor. He had tussled chestnut hair that brushed slightly over his forehead, a defined jaw line and snow white skin.
Isabella shot up and began to anxiously back herself away from him until her back met with the cold chamber wall. The room began to spin from the poison circulating in her system, forcing her to place both of her palms flat against the wall in order to steady herself from falling over.
Fear crept through her dark brown eyes as she stood there, staring guardedly at him, helpless with no where to go.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Edward said as he slowly put both of his hands up in front of him in order to show her he had no intentions of coming any closer.
Edward definitely had not expected her to respond this way. He knew she was afraid, being forced to come alone into the enemy's clan to live forever among the species she was born and bred to hate. He understood, like him, she had no choice in this arrangement what-so-ever.
He had thought to get her attention earlier, and then civilly conversed with her his plans to make their marriage arrangement as manageable as possible for both sides. However upon seeing him, she quickly backed away in fear, and now looks as if she would faint at any moment. Her face was devoid of all color, and her lips were ghostly pale. She was breathing heavily and Edward's sharpened senses could feel the terror resonating off her chest.
With a small step forward, Edward said, "Look, if you are this afraid of me now, it wont be easy for you later on. I really just want to get this ceremony over with."
Isabella shook her head rapidly as if she did not understand him. She placed one hand in front of her in defense to signal him not to come any closer. With her other hand as a guide, she began to inch herself slowly towards the left side of the room, aiming towards the bedroom door.
Edward scowled. He detested how she reacted to him with such fear, as if he was the one forcing her to wed him. Edward was in no hurry to get married any time soon, and if he had to, he knew exactly who he wanted his eternal bride to be. Jessica-now I will never know how it feels to taste your sweet, heavenly lips.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from her and walked towards the dresser to grab his glass of wine.
"Fine. If you want to act this way, then do as you must. But let me remind you that tonight is inevitable. You are not making it easy for either of us."
He drained the remainder of his glass of wine.
Edward set the glass back down and determinedly walked over to her, this time stopping at the edge of the bed. He held out his right arm and motioned for her to take it.
"They are waiting for us in the banquet hall, and everything is set in place. Do not test my patience princess. We do not have much time left before dawn."
Minutes lasted hours as Isabella debated on whether or not she should come to him. The poison in her body had already began to take affect and if she did not act soon, she would have sacrificed herself for nothing. It took Isabella all of her strength to lift herself off of the supporting wall as she hesitantly took a step forward towards Edward's arm. The poison running through her veins was beginning to cloud her vision even more so. Her hands became clammy and she began to sweat slightly as a fever spread throughout her body. Before she was able to steady herself, she lost her balance and stumbled forward towards the ground.
At that moment, Edward reached out to catch her fall, his deadly cold palms touched her heated skin for the very fist time, sending chills throughout her body. Unwillingly, she leaned into him for support.
"I've got you princess," he whispered, "I told you not to fear me. I'm not going to hurt you. "
They walked silently towards the banquet hall with her left arm wrapped tightly around his. With each stride, Isabella had to use all of her strength in order to not collapse. He supported her into the noisy, crowded banquet room, oblivious of the poison that was slowly killing her.
In his mind, he believed that she was simply so terrified, she was unable to function on her own.
Upon their arrival, the deafening chatters among the two-hundred some vampires in the crowded room came to an abrupt stop. All eyes laid upon them as Edward nodded to a couple standing just beyond the far right side of the banquet room.
With a nod back in return, Carlisle Cullen raised his ruby encrusted goblet into the air and soon after that, everyone followed suit. Without uttering a single word, the crowd began to promptly part ways in two separate directions, creating a walkway that revealed a raised dais in the dead center of the room. The dais was made of old tarnished wood, with four blazing torches placed at each corner of the stage. Tea light candles surrounded the platform.
As soon as Edward took a step forward towards the stage, they began to slowly chant in unison in the ancient tongue of the Volturi natives.
Vi la vi che ses se... Di la vai che ses sa… Di la ve che!
Bella instantly froze, panic threatening to engulf every ounce of control she had left in her body. Here she was in a room full of vampires, the Mystic's immortal enemies that slaughtered her ancestors and people for thousands of years.
Edward tightened his hold on her arm and had to pull her slightly to follow him. Now is not the right time for her to resist. If she continued to persist, he could lose control of his sense and harm her greatly.
He led her in front of the platform and without warning, released his grip and picked her up into his arms. Isabella wanted to protest but his sudden movement momentarily made her spinning head jerk and she briefly blacked out. The side of her head fell upon his chest. Within seconds when she regained awareness of her surroundings. Isabella found herself laying on top of the hard dais ground with Edward kneeling beside her starring intently down at her.
He gazed at her with haunting red eyes, the flames from the torches casting dark, frightening shadows upon his face. At that moment, his primal instinct burst to life as an animalistic, menacing look spread over his face. He slowly curled his upper lip, baring sharp, lethal fangs. The reality of what came next hit Isabella hard as she closed her eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She knew that within mere minutes, his fangs would pierce her neck. And from the moment Edward draws her blood to his lips, the poison from her body will surely spread onto him and paralyze him as it had already began doing to her. By the break of dawn, death will consume them both.
Edward allowed himself to be lost in the hypnotic chant of his ancient people, the instinct to bite overwhelming his senses. All had changed the moment he began to walk the princess down the aisle as the words of his people entranced him with the primitive instinct to hunt.
All will be over soon- He reminded himself just before he shut down his restraint and allowed himself to be lost in their spellbinding words.
He could not take his eyes off the pounding pulse on her neck as he bared his growing fangs, ready to strike at any moment. The crowd began to increase their chanting louder and louder. With each moment that passed, Edward's fangs ached to puncture her skin and draw in her savory blood, eternally binding them together.
Edward closed his eyes and leaned down, resting both his hands on either side of her head. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, a sweet mixture of mist and rain that reminded him of her true nature.
He, Prince Edward Cullen of the Volturi was about to bind himself eternally to Isabella Swan, a sworn enemy- the aquatic princess of Mystic Rivers.
I do not claim any rights to the characters, or references made in this story. All credits go to the author of the Twilight series - Stephanie Meyer.
However, I do claim the rights to the storyline of this story and any additional characters aside from the ones feature in Twilight as mine.
Sacrifice contains mature adult content that is not suitable for anyone under 18. Please be aware. If dark romance, angst and sex scenes disturb you, please do not read.
Other than that, thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy reading. Please leave reviews, because every writer knows.. Feedback is the fuel and inspiration that keeps us going!
Thank you.
Prologue
Dreary echoes of faint chatters could be heard resonating off various drunken men and women below. Beyond the closed bedroom doors of a dimly lit room, crystal wine glasses filled with blood laced liquor met the regal lips of 200 attendees, all gathered in stressed unison on a chilly crescent moon of a cloudy November sky.
Tonight, they feast, they drink and they sacrifice for the celebration of Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan.
Just one week prior, the hasty decision was made and finalized between both delegates of each houses in hopes of bringing truce to the Crusade once and for all. Over the last two centuries, a raging war between the stone carved caves of the Undead and the surrounding rivers of Mystics has brought nothing but endless nights of gruesome deaths and bloodshed throughout the lands. The war was a ghastly battle between earth and water over the grounds of Volterra, hatred raging generation after generation of bloodlines. It was a fight for territory, power, and revenge for lost loved ones between these two natural elements of life- earth, and water -vampires, and their peacekeepers.
Times gone by, these two elements once originated from the heavens above as gifts endowed to the universe, both meant to exist harmoniously in unison as the foundation of good and bad among the Volturi natives. The vampires were cast to rule the lands, granted with the permission to procreate and establish life among the planes of Volterra. Whereas, the Mystics were peacekeepers, guardian angels sent by the Heavens above in order to ensure that there was peace throughout the lands. The Mystics provided the Vampires with ancient, purified blood, and in return, the Vampires kept the Mystic's life source alive by allowing themselves and their offspring to be tamed of their hunting instincts by cleansing in the holy Mystic waters running throughout the borders of the land.
The Gods had destined that both species drew life from one another, for neither shall live if the other dies.
However, through decades of corruption, scandals and treachery among the rulers of both species, the once united kingdom of Volterra began to fall apart. Hatred was formed, resulting in blood vendettas that lasted for two centuries, leaving not even the sparing the unborn.
Countless innocent lives were taken as a result of this deadly Crusade, and over the expansion of thousands of years, the lost souls of victims and unaccounted deaths began to rise, disrupting the balance of Heaven and Hell itself. There were those born innocent that were forced to kill among the evil, sinning their hands in blood, growing more and more evil with each kill. Whereas those already evil fell deeper into the heaves of darkness, tarnishing their already diminishing souls into becoming a foul entity of their own.
Alas, the Gods came to a decision and signaled their commands in order to end this Crusade once and for all. In the shadow filled depths of the Volterra mountains, and the murky castle beneath Mystic waters, enchanted flames engulfed the temples of the imperial grounds. Once extinguished, the ashes formed the inescapable terms that neither side dared to violate.
Three thousand four hundred fifty six. Three thousand four hundred fifty seven.
It had been almost an hour that Isabella sat waiting, rigidly perched on top of oxblood satin sheets, counting the flicker of the flame of a lonesome candle resting on top of the dresser across from the bed. She studied the single flame with impassive interest as it swept left and right, casting eerie shadows upon the vacant room with each draft of air that blew through the half open window.
Her pale fingers gripped tightly on to the soft white lace of her dress. Each hand was skillfully woven in expensive material. Interlacing patterns meant to be adorned only by the highest ranking nobles of Mystic standards.
Earlier in the night, she arrived alone at the caves of Volterra wearing only a singular teardrop pendant, naked and draped in sacred angel feathers, as is custom of her people during ritual marriage sacrifice. She laid face up and immobile on a crystallized platform, her russet hair cascading downwards gracefully along one side of the platform's edge. She was heaved forward into the cave's opening by the enchanted power of flowing mist and water. From there, half a dozen deus, vampire slaves, escorted her to an underground bathing chamber where she was immediately serviced to a bath. Then they dressed her in a revealing lace halter dress, the Volturi's version of a wedding dress. It had been an unbearable experience, almost painful to say the least. She recalled helplessly standing there like a puppet, staring lifelessly into the cave wall, unable to move as the many servants prepared her in every way.
Upon finishing, they guided her through a narrow hallway leading into a singular bedroom chamber. They sat her on top of the large bed, and then without another glance, quickly scurried away.
Isabella waited until she was finally alone for the perfect opportunity to do what she knew was her only way out of this dreadful destiny. She reached for the water crystal pendant chained around her neck and without a second thought, snapped it in half. The pendant revealed a fine white powder, the most toxic poison from the water lilies of her Mystic land. She wasted no time ingesting the substance into her body and closed her eyes with bitter relief. Finally her mission was finished, for by the break of dawn, she would have successfully accomplished her assassination. Come sunrise, she would die along with her future husband, Prince Edward Cullen.
Now all Isabella had to do was sit patiently and wait. It had been over an hour since she ingested the poison and if her calculations were correct, the substance should be well on its way through her bloodstream by now. She slowly began to feel faint, her heartbeat rapidly slowing as her vision began to blur. Isabella had to steady herself by leaning against the bedpost in order to keep herself from collapsing.
If this vampire took any more time, she was afraid she would not make it on time to see her mission through.
At that exact moment, the bedroom doors swung opened allowing a gush of icy cold, stale air to rush into the room. At last, the immortal prince had come.
Prince Edward Cullen stood in front of the bedroom door, debating on whether or not he should go in. He had spent a majority of the night drinking his mind away, pointlessly mingling with drunken guests in order to prolong this inevitable moment when he must see her.
Everything had happened so rapidly that he did not have time to register his appalling situation. Tonight was the night he was forced to sacrifice his freedom and wed his clan's ultimate adversary- a royal Mystic princess he had never seen, spoken to, or knew anything about.
Edward cringed at the prospect of having to spend eternity with her, and the thought of having to drink from her in mere moments made him sick to his stomach. How did he get himself into this situation and why were the Gods punishing him, of all people, in order to diminish this war?
He glanced over at the corner of the room and saw her sitting on top of his bed, her back to him. He briefly noted long tendrils of curled hair entwined with strands of gemstones cascading down her small frame. She sat rigidly still staring aimlessly at the wall before her, showing no signs of acknowledging that he was there.
Edward walked quietly into the bedroom and closed the stone doors behind him. He set his glass of blood wine onto the dresser next to the door and made his way to the window where he draped his cloak on a hook. He turned back to stare at her and debated whether or not he should make a run for it through the window. Freedom is so close, yet so far away.
With a heavy sigh, he hesitantly walked across to his 'bride', his heavy foot steps echoing soft thumps throughout the room. With a steady hand, he placed it on her shoulder in order to catch her attention.
A startled gasp escaped Isabella's lips as she jerked away and met his blood shot eyes. Prince Edward hovered over her, in all of his royal crimson glamor. He had tussled chestnut hair that brushed slightly over his forehead, a defined jaw line and snow white skin.
Isabella shot up and began to anxiously back herself away from him until her back met with the cold chamber wall. The room began to spin from the poison circulating in her system, forcing her to place both of her palms flat against the wall in order to steady herself from falling over.
Fear crept through her dark brown eyes as she stood there, staring guardedly at him, helpless with no where to go.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Edward said as he slowly put both of his hands up in front of him in order to show her he had no intentions of coming any closer.
Edward definitely had not expected her to respond this way. He knew she was afraid, being forced to come alone into the enemy's clan to live forever among the species she was born and bred to hate. He understood, like him, she had no choice in this arrangement what-so-ever.
He had thought to get her attention earlier, and then civilly conversed with her his plans to make their marriage arrangement as manageable as possible for both sides. However upon seeing him, she quickly backed away in fear, and now looks as if she would faint at any moment. Her face was devoid of all color, and her lips were ghostly pale. She was breathing heavily and Edward's sharpened senses could feel the terror resonating off her chest.
With a small step forward, Edward said, "Look, if you are this afraid of me now, it wont be easy for you later on. I really just want to get this ceremony over with."
Isabella shook her head rapidly as if she did not understand him. She placed one hand in front of her in defense to signal him not to come any closer. With her other hand as a guide, she began to inch herself slowly towards the left side of the room, aiming towards the bedroom door.
Edward scowled. He detested how she reacted to him with such fear, as if he was the one forcing her to wed him. Edward was in no hurry to get married any time soon, and if he had to, he knew exactly who he wanted his eternal bride to be. Jessica-now I will never know how it feels to taste your sweet, heavenly lips.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from her and walked towards the dresser to grab his glass of wine.
"Fine. If you want to act this way, then do as you must. But let me remind you that tonight is inevitable. You are not making it easy for either of us."
He drained the remainder of his glass of wine.
Edward set the glass back down and determinedly walked over to her, this time stopping at the edge of the bed. He held out his right arm and motioned for her to take it.
"They are waiting for us in the banquet hall, and everything is set in place. Do not test my patience princess. We do not have much time left before dawn."
Minutes lasted hours as Isabella debated on whether or not she should come to him. The poison in her body had already began to take affect and if she did not act soon, she would have sacrificed herself for nothing. It took Isabella all of her strength to lift herself off of the supporting wall as she hesitantly took a step forward towards Edward's arm. The poison running through her veins was beginning to cloud her vision even more so. Her hands became clammy and she began to sweat slightly as a fever spread throughout her body. Before she was able to steady herself, she lost her balance and stumbled forward towards the ground.
At that moment, Edward reached out to catch her fall, his deadly cold palms touched her heated skin for the very fist time, sending chills throughout her body. Unwillingly, she leaned into him for support.
"I've got you princess," he whispered, "I told you not to fear me. I'm not going to hurt you. "
They walked silently towards the banquet hall with her left arm wrapped tightly around his. With each stride, Isabella had to use all of her strength in order to not collapse. He supported her into the noisy, crowded banquet room, oblivious of the poison that was slowly killing her.
In his mind, he believed that she was simply so terrified, she was unable to function on her own.
Upon their arrival, the deafening chatters among the two-hundred some vampires in the crowded room came to an abrupt stop. All eyes laid upon them as Edward nodded to a couple standing just beyond the far right side of the banquet room.
With a nod back in return, Carlisle Cullen raised his ruby encrusted goblet into the air and soon after that, everyone followed suit. Without uttering a single word, the crowd began to promptly part ways in two separate directions, creating a walkway that revealed a raised dais in the dead center of the room. The dais was made of old tarnished wood, with four blazing torches placed at each corner of the stage. Tea light candles surrounded the platform.
As soon as Edward took a step forward towards the stage, they began to slowly chant in unison in the ancient tongue of the Volturi natives.
Vi la vi che ses se... Di la vai che ses sa… Di la ve che!
Bella instantly froze, panic threatening to engulf every ounce of control she had left in her body. Here she was in a room full of vampires, the Mystic's immortal enemies that slaughtered her ancestors and people for thousands of years.
Edward tightened his hold on her arm and had to pull her slightly to follow him. Now is not the right time for her to resist. If she continued to persist, he could lose control of his sense and harm her greatly.
He led her in front of the platform and without warning, released his grip and picked her up into his arms. Isabella wanted to protest but his sudden movement momentarily made her spinning head jerk and she briefly blacked out. The side of her head fell upon his chest. Within seconds when she regained awareness of her surroundings. Isabella found herself laying on top of the hard dais ground with Edward kneeling beside her starring intently down at her.
He gazed at her with haunting red eyes, the flames from the torches casting dark, frightening shadows upon his face. At that moment, his primal instinct burst to life as an animalistic, menacing look spread over his face. He slowly curled his upper lip, baring sharp, lethal fangs. The reality of what came next hit Isabella hard as she closed her eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She knew that within mere minutes, his fangs would pierce her neck. And from the moment Edward draws her blood to his lips, the poison from her body will surely spread onto him and paralyze him as it had already began doing to her. By the break of dawn, death will consume them both.
Edward allowed himself to be lost in the hypnotic chant of his ancient people, the instinct to bite overwhelming his senses. All had changed the moment he began to walk the princess down the aisle as the words of his people entranced him with the primitive instinct to hunt.
All will be over soon- He reminded himself just before he shut down his restraint and allowed himself to be lost in their spellbinding words.
He could not take his eyes off the pounding pulse on her neck as he bared his growing fangs, ready to strike at any moment. The crowd began to increase their chanting louder and louder. With each moment that passed, Edward's fangs ached to puncture her skin and draw in her savory blood, eternally binding them together.
Edward closed his eyes and leaned down, resting both his hands on either side of her head. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, a sweet mixture of mist and rain that reminded him of her true nature.
He, Prince Edward Cullen of the Volturi was about to bind himself eternally to Isabella Swan, a sworn enemy- the aquatic princess of Mystic Rivers.