Mystery Repeats

Rosalie's POV

ca. a day after Bella's 18th birthday party

The throbbing feeling behind Rose’s eyes had subsided substantially after the little escapades in the forest. Fresh air was always a winner. Emmett had gone ahead, heading home as soon as possible. Rosalie on the other hand had wanted to take her time. She had to calm down before she did something she would regret.

She tied her blond hair behind her head and let out a small sigh. Nature was astounding.

Back when she was human, she had never had cared that much. A shame really. None of the forest critters were now brave enough to come even close to her. She hummed to herself. It was just another part of life that Carlisle had taken away from her.

But she did not mind it. At least, not anymore. She smelled the fresh crisp cold autumn water running through the small creek in the distance. A constant. Somehow ever-changing. Ever flowing with a new source of water. But also always staying the same.

Since she had turned, the Cullens had been her constant. Her everything. They had been the rock she was craving for. The ones that she had returned to. But they also did not understand her. Not really.

Before she had found Emmett, she had been judged. Not that she had cared much. Even now, years after, her shoulders still shrugged in the same response to the memory.

Because, she had done the most un-Cullen-like thing possible.

She had killed Royce and his friends in cold blood.

A hunt. A chase. A fucking thrill. But she had never drank their blood. She killed for revenge. Vengeance. And a tiny part of her had killed for fun. Smelling the sweat. Tasting the fear. The air thick with adrenaline, laced with hints of terror. It had been her high.

The fact that Royce had locked himself up in a random hotel room, drinking himself stupid, days before she even got to him, made it even better. He had been terrified of the thought of what was coming.

She smiled. He should have been. She had waited for a few days. She had let her ex-fiance surround himself with the self-destructive tendencies of fear. She had been close enough to hear and smell everything that was going on. And it had fuelled her.

Truth be told, Rose had relished in it.

Unfortunately, that was a part of her personality that the Cullens did not find as endearing, or even tolerable. But the part of her existed, and Edward had seen it. In detail.

Shielding her thoughts in the early days of her life had been difficult. Especially with the whiplash of emotions that came from being a newborn. She saw the judgment. Felt it. And tried to escape it as much as possible – something the Cullen patriarch and his golden son did not appreciate. They had reprimanded her. Talked to her as if she was just a child. They just wanted to fulfill the one reason why Carlisle had turned her: She was supposed to be Edward's mate. His fucking Mate.

A shudder went through her spine as she put her hands in the cold creek.

Mating was the most special bond a vampire could have. Forever. Together. But it was not immediate, or uninfluenceable. A vampire’s nature was part human, part animalistic – and a mating bond perfectly combined these two.

It needed words. Just like a human marriage and its vows. Words tying each other together. And then the bond needed to be sealed. Physically, both through an exchange of venom as well as an exchange of other bodily fluids. That much she had figured out over the years. Not that the Cullens ever elaborated on the topic - or on any vampire-related issue at all for that matter. She had just observed the relationships around her and made her own deductions. Rosalie Hale was anything but stupid.

She crinkled her nose, thinking back on how Edward had tried to push for a mating bond with her, as she had come out of her first few weeks as a newborn. But she had not known him. She only had known mistrust. She just almost died at the hands of the one person in the world she was sure she loved, and that he loved her. Why would she, being forever 23, tie herself to someone she didn’t know at all?

This human response, which still lingered in her, had been entirely unexpected by the Cullen clan. She had felt anger and rage spreading from her stomach, as Edward had uttered his proposition. She remembered it vividly. The smell of roses in the air. His mother's ring in the red velvet box. Edward down on one knee. And worst of all, Carlisle and Esme on the couch, happily smiling to themselves, feeling the joy in anticipation of their happy family.

She couldn't think. She couldn't move. The lack of thoughts in Rose’s head at that moment had provided Eddie with a false sense of assurance. But as the red-hot mix of dismay, hurt, and hostility raged through her venom-laced veins, her eyes had said it all. Without wasting any words, as if on instinct, she turned around and left. She had to hunt. She had to get out. She had to let them pay for what they did to her.

While she was away those few months, she had surprised herself by sticking to the Cullen diet. It had been difficult. The ache and pain in her throat were barely softened by the musty animal liquid. But she did not want to hurt innocents. She did not want to hurt anyone at all, except those who deserved it.

The cold movement of water along her wrists broke her thoughts, as she took her hands out of the creek and continued her stroll. The soft moss let her feet bounce as she stepped. Fresh fallen leaves, and pine, combined with clear air filled her lungs. The corners of her mouth curled up. In all this chaos, it was either in Emmett’s arms or here, where she found peace. Embracing the calm, her thoughts drifted off again.

After she had returned to the Cullens from her little escapades in 1933, the welcome had been eerie. They had seemed grateful for her golden eyes, but her thoughts had betrayed her. The judgemental comments had followed suit. Although, all in all, she had branded this a blessing in disguise. Little moral superior Eddie had been disgusted with her thought. The emotion dripped off his face every time he looked at her. He had not spoken a word of the proposal since.

Good riddance. But still, the Cullens functioned as her stabilizer. After all, where else should she go? Every few months, she took a break. Running through the country, traveling, experiencing. But in the end, everyone moved on. She had to move on. And, in the end, she always returned to the house in Montana which the Cullens called home at the time.

It was only two years later that she decided to explore the south of the United States. And while traveling through Tennessee, she somehow had felt the need to stay. To investigate. There was a humming in her head, a feeling, that something here was important.

As she stumbled upon a hunting cabin on the outskirts of Gatlinburg, near the Baskin Creek Falls, the humming in her head had stopped. The little hut looked unoccupied, as she took her residence. At least, it should have been. She had enjoyed her time with the local wildlife and taking in the sight of the waterfalls. A month after her arrival, a tall handsome hunter had come by. She had evacuated the cabin, and from the treetops, she had observed him. She was mesmerized by the way he moved. Enchanted. He had not sensed her, and for a few days, he went about his normal hunting routine, none the wiser that he was being followed.

He had plenty of chances to shoot bucks or even a wolf. But it seemed that the handsome stranger was looking out for a bigger challenge. And on the third day, he set out for a hike that turned out to be his last.

Rosalie had not been thinking about the effect that she had on the wildlife, and as in a trance had followed the dark-haired hunter as he started his hike. She had not been listening. She had shut off her awareness. Lost in the scent of bourbon and pine. It was the growl of the grizzly and the piercing scream of the hunter that snapped her back to reality. And at that point, she had been too late. Fury had overtaken her.

She had killed the grizzly within 5 seconds and then put her attention on the stranger below her. He had looked at her, his eyes glassy with pain, but there was something else swirling in his eyes. With what seemed to be his last words he asked her

“Are you an angel?”

It was that sentence that tipped Rose over the edge, falling head first into her decision. He is mine. She looked at the man with determination, a small smile playing on her lips. Then, she had bitten his neck and pushed the venom. It was easy. It was the way this was supposed to go.

At least, that is what she told her conscience afterward.

She took him back to the hunting cabin, hoping it would be secluded enough for the change. And if by a miracle, they both came through the following few months unscathed.

Unfortunately, three hunters did not.

During that time spent together at the cabin, she discovered that her handsome stranger was called Emmett. Emmet McCarthy. A renowned trapper and marksman in his human time, he now took to vampirism surprisingly well. The happiness that he brought with him, warmed Rose’s core. It was like someone had turned up the dials of life, and suddenly everything was extra. As long as they were together, life was perfect. They had hunted. They had kissed. They had made love. And one summer eve, two months after Emmett’s change, she had mumbled her love for him.

She had been scared. Terrified even, to open up her heart again. But the peace he gave her, and the way his cute dimples showed up as his face broke out in a radiant smile, were just magnificent. He quelled her insecurities.

He was home.

And so, when Emmett had taken her hands in his. Kissing them softly. The smell of bourbon and pine surrounded her. He had promised that he would take care of her forever, as he winked at his last word.

Their lips had met, and what started as a slow kiss quickly turned into heated passion. Their limbs intertwined and trembled. And as they came together, both had bit down on instinct. Both of them were overwhelmed with the need to protect, to love, to care. And thus, under the summer stars, they had unknowingly completed the mating ritual.

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