Prophecy - Book 5 of Twilight Saga (Fan Fiction)
Refusing to follow the path laid out for her, Nessie unearths a plot that threatens her very existence. Once again the Olympic Coven must take a stand... but who can they trust? Gripping spin-off in the Twilight Saga Series as Bella and Edward struggle to keep their family together in a desperate bid to survive.
I would love any feedback at all on the Prophecy; something that i have loved writing and want to develop to be as good as it can be!!
2. Chapter 2: Renesmee
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Chapter Two: Renesmee
The room was crowded and I was outnumbered by the pack, fifteen to one. There were speeches, a derisory buffet, then the first dance. It wasn’t an exhaustive list of obstacles. I had endured longer than this in the midst of humans, but then it struck me; the warm, delicate scent.
It reminded me of poppies dancing in the breeze, mixed with mature apples, juicy and succulent. There was crushed lavender in the blend, and something that provoked images of a fresh harvest, something that was perhaps not altogether quenching but intriguing nonetheless.
Sixty or so guests lined the room, arranged in neat formation on long bench tables around a small timber dance floor. The sweet smell seeped from them twisting in a dangerous haze around me.
As for the humans, their eyes faced forward obliviously, nodding and pretending to follow the front where an older lady stood. She shuffled cards within her palms, speaking fast in a foreign tongue that I wasn’t supposed to understand. It was Mrs Uley who spoke, and she reminisced the couple’s long and happy courtship with pride. But she too was oblivious of my raging thirst.
Beside me Jacob leaned forward concentrating on the speech. This was the time when couples would normally hold hands or whisper to each other to pass the time. Not Jake and I; we weren’t like that, well not yet. I was there because he’d imprinted on me, and in wolf terms that was a pretty big deal.
So, sitting in the crowded room in front of all these people, he wouldn’t have even had a clue that something was up. Not in the presence of his fellow shape-shifters - who could phase into wolves - would he have believed that I, Renesmee Cullen, half-vampire, half-human, could be a threat.
How had he forgotten how dangerous I was?
Four tanned faces sat opposite me, with their faces turned at right angles towards Mrs Uley. Those who didn’t understand the Quileute language wore blank, jaded expressions. They chewed at bread knots and drew patterns with the confetti along the table. But that was all incidental. It wasn’t their behavior that aggravated my appetite, nor was it Mrs Uley’s speech that caught my breath. It was the overwhelming and irresistible smell of human blood, which made my throat flicker and throb.
I stopped the air from flowing into my lungs, something my father, Edward, had taught me to do. It wasn’t painful at first, I could hold my breath for a long time but unlike the full-bloods I couldn’t persevere indefinitely. I had ten minutes, max.
I pursed my lips tighter.
Hot, dry, aching, craving.
Should I bolt now, complain of a stomach bug and make for the bathroom? Or would that attract unnecessary attention? No, that would be blatant. Vampires are never ill. Jacob would guess something was wrong, he would follow me, and he would see me for who I really am.
I stayed. Three minutes passed, maybe four. My throat continued to pulsate and prickle in equal measure building up slowly for the scent that preyed upon me, so fresh. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my lips closed, I had to inhale it more. And as the aroma encompassed me, any words of warning I had been armed with melted into insignificance. I was no longer afraid of this nostalgia; I had to embrace it.
If only I was like my mother, Bella, so soft and kind; with a gift of resisting the overwhelming urges for human blood. Although ashamed by my thoughts, the desperation rippled through my body with an urgency I couldn’t ignore.
I waited, hands clasped and body tensed for another few moments. But it wasn’t the clapping signaling the end of the speech that broke my concentration. Nor was it Jacob rising to his feet to address the groom. It was the shrill scream that pierced the air and stopped me cold.
All at once I heard screams, growls and galloping paws, but it was too late. An innocent was dead and the treaty had been broken.
The monster inside me had won.
I woke up violently, teeth bared and ready for attack. The thirst I had dreamt of so vividly lingered at the back of my esophagus, burning like lava up my throat. Another nightmare; the third this week alone. Only this time Jacob was there, and even he couldn’t stop me.
I reached for the phone.
“Mom?” I said, in a voice that I tried hard to keep even. “It’s happened again.” This time the rift in my tone betrayed me, and tears spilt down my cheeks.
“Nessie, what happened? Another dream?” Bella said.
Nightmare. I visualized all those horrified wedding guests; their aghast expressions forged into the forefront of my mind. Jacob’s indignant look as he saw beneath my facade, when for the first time, he saw me for who I really was. A vampire… a murderer.
I collected myself enough to take her through it from the beginning. How I’d been at Rachel Black’s wedding and how I’d lost control. My gift of portraying visions was uncomfortably good and it was times like these when I wished I couldn’t recall such intense detail. The body, the blood, the wolves, the expression Jacob failed to hide.
“Oh,” she said, when I was done talking. “Nes, it wasn’t real.”
“But it will be,” I said, pulling myself up from the center of my four-poster bed. I tried to shake it off like it was a tangible object that would flake off and melt away into insignificance. Yet the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach remained. “Jacob’s sister gets married in five weeks,” I said. “And I know what you’re gonna say, Mom, but…” I chewed over the words. “I think I should be discussing this with him? If he knew what to expect, maybe he could help?”
“Discuss this with Jacob? And start a feud with the wolves?” She said, her tone an octave higher. “We’ve been over this again and again. Our relationship with them is fragile enough as it is, held together only by you. Jacob’s source of strength is from the Quileute’s, his people. You know I love Jacob, but don’t you see the kind of dilemma this presents? You understand what I’m saying? He imprinted on you, which means he’s totally and utterly connected to you, as you are to him, and a revelation like this would completely tear him up; pull him too tightly between his heart and his gut instinct.”
“I know, I know, but if he really is, you know, imprinted, shouldn’t he understand?”
This time she paused.
“Nes, you can talk to us, you don’t need to worry him. Your father and I are always just on the other end of the phone. And you know Alice, Jazz, Carlisle, Esme, Rose and Emmett are all there for you too. They’ll understand far more than Jacob ever could.”
I jerked forward, alarmed. “You haven’t told them have you?”
“No, of course not.”
I pushed the covers off and wandered across the room, kicking yesterday’s jeans from the sheepskin rug to the corner of the room where a pile had started to form.
“Thank you,” I added, stopping beneath an archway that led to a long, narrow, stonewalled room. At the far end, a full-length mirror reflected my nearly full-grown image back at me. A tangle of mud-colored curls tumbled past my chin resting just shy of my shoulder blades. It framed my paltry expression, clear white skin, and eyes as black as night.
“And I guess you’re right about Jake but I just feel like I’m lying to him. If I lost control in real life—.”
“You’re stronger than that. I know you are,” she said.
Neither of us spoke, as I pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans and an oversized purple top.
“Should we come home?” She added, dubiously.
“Don’t be silly,” I shot back, easing a pair of boots over the tight denim. “You’re home so often, I could hardly ask you to return again.”
She sighed down the receiver. “Okay point taken, no need to be sarcastic. Things have been hectic over here, but we’re definitely coming home at the weekend.” Another promise they wouldn’t keep.
My parents left Forks back in the fall to study bio-chemistry at university. That’s when the nightmares had started. I’d stayed in the cottage, alone, which I thought I could handle, seeing as the rest of the Cullens, my extended family lived in the main house on the other side of the estate. They’d asked Jacob to keep an eye on me too, which was a given seeing as we spent so much time together. Technically speaking he was the one I should have been able to confide in after all this time, although that was easier said than done. He was a werewolf whose sole mission was to kill vampires. Therein the dichotomy did lie.
If I told him about my dreams, he would no doubt back away, or worse, suffocate me with overprotective policing. And so, as my fingers tapped in his number on the cell phone in my palm, I was not upset to reach his voicemail. Maybe my parents were right; it was not his burden to bear.
I took the quickest route to the main house; through the woods, over the river, and along the line of silver birches leading to the bi-fold glass doors that punctuated the back of the main house. For the first time ever, the doors were locked.
I banged impatiently on the glass.
“Morning Nessie,” Alice said, coming round the corner and making her way towards me in no hurry whatsoever. She grinned as she approached with a knowing look in the sparkle of her rich golden eyes.
I pushed the handle as she turned the key.
“It’s Carlie to you, remember!”
Carlie was actually my middle name but I was assuming the hard task of adopting it to be more in-fitting in school. Nothing spelled ‘outsider’ like my birth name, ‘Renesmee’, and the only person who couldn’t understand my decision was the very one who had picked it. My mother.
“Since when do we lock doors around here?” I said to Alice.
She shrugged. “Dunno.”
Typical, they’d actually forgotten I was even out there.
“You sleep okay, Carlie?”
“Fine, as always.” I shrugged defensively visualizing the nightmare once more. The thing about a psychic like Alice was that she had a pretty accurate idea of everyone else’s next move, but not mine. She’d never been able to see me. Perhaps because I was only a half-blood; half them and half human? I studied her face trying to gauge if she’d been told about my nightmares, but she’d already moved onto the sofa, kicking her legs up onto the coffee table.
“Where is everyone?” I said.
“Hmm, Carlisle’s at work, and Rosalie, Emmett and Esme are waiting for you.” She picked up a magazine and started to leaf through it.
Perfect. That would be just the medicine I needed. “You coming?” I said.
“Nope.” Her yellow eyes glowed.
“And Jacob?” Dull remnants of his scent were everywhere, as usual.
“Not sure, not seen him today.” She looked up and peered through the windows across the forest like he would pop out at any given moment. “Who are you kidding? It’s Sunday morning, he’ll still be in bed.”
There was movement but it wasn’t from outside. I turned towards the soft patter of footsteps down the stairs.
“Hey Jazz,” I said.
“Not seen him either,” he replied nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose slightly. I ignored it and checked my watch. It would have to wait.
“I’ll catch up with him after the hunt then.” I raised my voice slightly as I left the lounge although they would have heard me just fine even if I’d whispered.
I found Esme with Rose and Emmett in the garage.
“You ready?” I said. They turned to me with large, ebony eyes and grinned.
Later that night I lay awake fearing another nightmare.
‘It’s only a dream, Nessie,’ my mother had said, for the hundredth time, and, ‘I’ll bet you won’t have another one now you’ve hunted.’
She was wrong.
The next morning I woke with a growl and a shiver that rocked me to my core. Another nightmare. My longing for human blood was getting worse.
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